Party Like a Rockstar

Y'all know I loved that song before it blew up and became everyone's song so I need you to recognize my gangsta. Recognized? Good. Moving on.

Guess who FINALLY got out of the house? Nope, not me. Just kidding! It was me! I called up my girl Lauren early in the morning and left her a message letting her know we would be going out and to prepare herself. She called around 9 and we decided to meet at Smokin Joe's on the South Side. They have 7,459,638 beers, give or take a few million. They say 300 bottles and 40 drafts and it looked it with the giant nearly floor to ceiling refrigerators. Yum! Vanessa, you do NOT want to go here, you'd never leave! I tried the East India Pale Ale. It was ok. Not my fave. Then I had a Yuengling draft.

We sat around and talked for a while, ordered some provolone sticks and chicken tenders. Then we headed down the street to Town Tavern. We see all these guys (40 or so) in camoflage shirts that say something like "Survival of the Fittest" on the back. I'm like, what is this? Summer camp??? So bizarre. So L stops some guy and asks him what the deal is. I can't hear him, but a dude introduces himself to me so I say, "What's with the weird shirts?" On the front there are no left turn signs.

He says, "It's Ben ***'s birthday." I couldn't understand him. I'm like, "Who? I don't know him." He says, "Ben Roethlisberger. Steelers quarterback." Ah.. no left turn. The motorcycle accident. Gotcha. But is it really necessary for there to be a gang of you dressed like the Von Trapp family singers? I think no. "How indeed do you solve a problem like Maria? How do you keep a wave upon the saaaaaaaaaaand. And how do you make her stay and listen to all you say..." Sorry. Y'all know how I am with songs.

So the guy tells me his name (which I immediately forgot as I do with all people I can't imagine speaking to again in life). Let me tell you how this dude looked at least 40 and had a brown striped polo shirt on under his tee. Stop. The madness. Anyhow, he says, "You're not from here, are you." What gave it away? Was it the royal blue baby doll top with the back sash from the Limited with flare-leg jeans and patent leather pumps (yes, they are my current go-to shoes)? The afro? The accent? The fly?

I replied, "No, I'm from North Carolina."
"Really?! What part?"
"Charlotte."
"I'm from New Bern!"
*blank stare because I've never been there or even met anyone from there (its 5 hours from Charlotte. Clearly I can be in Atlanta in less time).*
He asks, "Where did you go to school?"
"Hampton."
"Really?! When did you graduate?"
Dude is really excited. "'04."
*enter look of realization*
He says, "Oh. Do you know ---?"
"No."
"Oh. That's my niece. She came out in '05."
Wow... old dude.

Then someone blew a whistle and they started rounding each other up, just as I saw one more to my liking. One started yelling at the crowd of camos as L texted another co-worker to see where he was. Turns out he was in there, too. The camos exit via the front door and we find the other co-worker. And guess who he's with? The girl he supposedly broke up with a year prior who HATES ME!! I get sooooooooo excited. I LOVE when people hate on me for no reason.

The girl shakes my hand and says, "I remember you." She looked older so it took a while for me to recognize her (burn). Her friend didn't bother to shake my hand and just looked at me like I was the topic of a classic La post. To take after La, let's call her honey. So I'm dancing and they're steady over there whispering. HILARIOUS! Her man goes to fetch us some drinks and she's still hatin, then tries to do a lil two step in her jean skirt, tee shirt and old lady sandals. So unadorable. Anyway.

Somehow everyone goes in their odd directions except me and Honey. Wonderful. She uses the opportunity to slide up to me and ask, "So are you still with that guy?" "Nope. We broke up." "Oh I'm sorry to hear that." I bet you are. "Do you still not like Pittsburgh?" "Nope." "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Right. "I'm in a lot of different organizations so I get out a lot." Are congratulations in order? I say, "Are you from here?" "Yeah, but it's not like I've never been anywhere." Who asked you that? I say, "Oh. Where'd you go to school?" "Here," she responds then retreats to her corner.

Right. Here. Don't try to act like you've been somewhere when you are from here, went to school here and still live here. Get OUTTA here. Ridiculous. But let's not forget, I obviously must repeat this, I DON'T WANT YOUR MAN. If I did, I could have him, but I don't. I don't date my co-workers. Unnecessarily messy and I'm not interested. Plus he's more than 10 years older than me and not my type. More importantly, if you have to do all that over a man, then you have far more than me to worry about. Your relationship is obviously on shaky ground. You don't have to do all that with a relationship you are confident about. *yawn* Not my problem. But I do like to antagonize people so maybe we'll show up more often. What fun!