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July 06, 2008
Hey La La La
Hey my friend it seems your eyes are troubled. Care to share your time with me? Would you say you're feeling low? And so a good idea would be to get it off your mind.
Dave, Dave, Dave. A prelude to an entire evening in a verse.
I love you, man.
So I did. I got it off my mind.
And he said, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Then before I could shake my head he asked again, more slowly, and if possible, with even more disbelief in his voice, “are…you…fucking…kidding…me. Who does that?”
And now that some time has passed, I can tell the story.
The he in question asking me this was a story all by himself. Many years younger than me, obscenely good looking, single, professional, and a very stylish dresser.
We were leaning on the railing of an outdoor balcony in a really nice hotel. How we got to be there was a story all by itself too. (He and I leaning – not the physics of getting to the hotel.) My girlfriends, sisters from different mothers, had been with me earlier in the evening (along with about 200 of our closest coworkers and managers) to see my long-term relationship with a man (one of the 200 present) implode. Maybe it was explode. Either way, there was a plode involved. (And that word is now (C) 2008 Me.)
And it would just be an understatement to say that it (the aforementioned plode, you're going to have to pay attention here) caught me off guard.
So my girlfriends rallied around me, deciding I need some distraction. And chose one of the single guys from the crowd as my date for the evening.
No half measures there.
First he should look like a GQ model. Check.
And be totally single and unattached. Check.
And be dressed to the nines, in that model-way. Check.
And be half my age, or there about, please and thank you.
Check. And you’re welcome.
I’ll tell you what I was telepathing to my BFFs and it just about rhymes with are you fucking kidding me: I’m 40, and have just been unceremoniously dismissed by a short, fat, bald man, and you taunt me with the eye candy.
And of course my potential date had an entire arsenal of responses which I’m sure in his young life he has used countless times to fend off ladies: he had plans; it was packing night; he had gone out the night before and wanted an early evening; not no but hell no you’re old; and the now infamous, AYFKM.
Did he use a one of them? Nope, he declared me and my outfit amazing, and took my hand for the rest of the evening.
This thusly began for us on the balcony. Where I got it off my mind. He learned why my girlfriends figured I might need some distraction and general looking-after at that particular moment in history.
And you already know his response.
Was there anything that could be done? No. Then make the best of what’s around.
Let’s see, short fat bald guy avoiding me like Dengue fever, or, um totally the opposite of that standing right there with me holding my hand.
You may already expect that Dave’s got the resolution.
Well she ran up into the light surprised
Her arms are open
Her mind's eye is
Seeing things from a
Better side than most can dream
On a clearer road I feel
Oh you could say she's safe
Whatever tears at her
Whatever holds her down
And if nothing can be done
She'll make the best of what's around.
Hey, la la la.
Written by Angela Tanner. July 6, 2008 01:40 PM