My amazingly cool group of friends are having a party this weekend. They’re calling it, “We’re too broke to make it to Dinah so we’re having an 80′s themed party!” OK. OK …. Maybe it’s not the catchiest name but you gotta admit, it gets the point across. My friends are nothing if not blunt.
Sounds good right? I mean, I can throw together some leg warmers and neon colored t-shirt/dress with a bad belt and capri leggings. My costume, unfortunately is not the problem. The issue is that like most lesbians, all my friends have conveniently coupled up with their perfect little girlfriends. Alas, I am the last single girl in the bunch. This however doesn’t usually bother me. My friends are great, not too mushy and when we’re at a club they get to make bets on how fast I can get the digits of the dime piece sitting by herself. I’m the proud owner of the biggest balls in the group.
But a house party full of couples and the only possible single person in sight is a straight guy smoking on the patio? Um, yea … I’ll pass.
I know you (like I) embrace singled-om, yet when it comes time to shine you bow down. I, alone, stood tall being single for a long time not having the only other single woman (you) with me. I didn’t shy away, I didn’t decline invites, I was able to look on and KNOW that love would find me when it and I were ready. And in the meantime, fucking all the wrong ones didn’t suck either.
You are an amazing woman, with amazing friends who want you in their presence. In a way, you are saying that you are unable to be amazing stag. Tisk tisk.
OK, OK … point taken … hard. But in my pathetic defense, I am under the weather. But you’re right, I should have grabbed my balls and donned a flash dance-esque costume and shown up. Oh well… I’ll dyke it up next time and be the woman you know I can be