Thanks, But No Thanks.
We already know my girls are funny, but have I mentioned that after a Hummingbird (or five) they’re hilarious? Especially the taken ones. I have this theory that women who are happily boo’d up are like gay people who have been oppressed by society. I remember going to City Nights back in the day on gay night and thinking, “Holy shit. They’re worse than straight people!” I figured it was because they rarely got a chance to freely express themselves, so when they did they would wild the fuck out. Which is probably why the girls with boyfriends at dinner last Friday were the most outspoken when our hot chef came into the private dining room to greet us.
No, really. One gasped. One turned red. The other squealed with delight. And the last one grabbed his hand, held it up and said, “Look, no wedding ring!” Naturally someone chimed in with a, “So my friend Abigail over there is single …” Mortified, I buried my face in my hands thinking, and I forever will be if you guys keep doing this to me. Shortly after, a similar episode occurred when we left the restaurant to have our door opened for us by an even cuter doorman. “Abi will be back here later,” one of my precious little friends said. Hey, how about someone just shoot me already?
Let me make this clear – I adore my friends. Most of the time they’re actually great wing-woman. All of them. Yes, even the ones that make me want to dig myself a hole in the ground so that I can disintegrate in it and turn into mulch. This post wasn’t written in response to this one instance, it came as an exasperated plea due to a culmination of #thatawkwardmoment events. But I do understand that they’re just trying to look out for me. They want me to meet someone that will see the amazing they see, which is hard for me to do on my own considering I hide under the nearest table the minute I’m within twenty feet of any man I’m interested in. I get it, and I love you guys. Thanks for being so thoughtful. But please believe me when I say that pawing me off on the next guy by screaming, “Hey she’s single!” more than likely isn’t endearing to them. Especially when they’re good looking and probably used to it.
More importantly, it’s not endearing to me. It’s embarrassing, makes me feel self-conscious, and puts me in an even more awkward position. And yall know I’m already awkward as is. So please, ladies, if you ever want to live vicariously through me, if you ever want me to get laid, if you ever want some God children out of our relationship let the hooting and hollaring come from the drunk men that hit on US. I promise that if I’m ever that interested, but still that shy, I will ask you to run me some interference myself.