the blandness continues...

This weekend was pretty much like the last one. It went high then dry, then ever so dry at some points. 

Friday started off dry and then went really high and sort of peaked, but Saturday started off really dry and just sat there in its dryness affecting everything around it, right until today, Sunday. I am still working on the low point, the rut, hopefully it is not the precursor to a very boring week. One can only hope, right? 

Friday. 

Went to a Whiskey Tasting event in Midtown. I was so particularly exhausted and had to talk myself into going. I know, when did that happen, me talk myself into going to get some very fine, very free whiskey, how did that happen? But hey, I am getting old. But I did go. I saw Michael Jordan battling Atlanta traffic with me with a cigar in his mouth in 70 degree weather. It was all good. At that point, I knew, things might just be looking up. And they did. The Macallan folks were ever so generous with their pours and their courtesy. There was just so much of it to go round and the night was still young. We ended at a little before 8pm on a hot Friday evening in Midtown, what's not to love? Bumped into some guy who was in the mood for some adventure and we spent the evening bar-hopping. We hit The Vortex, which is supposed to be some Atlanta staple (trust me you are not missing anything), and then ended the evening at Prohibition (which he was a huge fan of) where I proceeded to try some absinthe (yuck!). Wonderful. Went to bed at a little after 3 am. Exciting evening was over. Things that make you happy to be single in the city.

Saturday. 

The bad news. I got a dropped call from the guy from last weekend. He had "butt-dialed" me. I wasn't furious, just curious, Do you want to talk to me or not? So I sent him a text, "You seemed to have butt-dialed" me?" Here's the kicker. He acted like he didn't know who the fuck this was. I was irked. So irked. I spent the entire day being irked. I actually kinda liked him. He was sweet and soft-spoken, and I love the soft-spoken ones. Went to a bar and ended up chatting with another singleton who had just returned from a very horrid date on e-harmony. Surely her day was not as bad as mine. So we talked about my fury and she coined the phrase, "butt-dialing" which as you can see I've proceeded to use. It was the shining light to a very dry day. I always love it when I bump into other single women drinking at the bar. It's like I respect them and I understand them. We are comrades in this dating game, in this hole that life has squeezed us into, we are the few single women who leave our homes and TVs and choose to relax with some alcohol and conversation with strangers. Some choose to accept and some choose to ignore that this is their fate. We, my brief drinking partner, and I had come to accept it and for that we exchanged numbers and promised to do this again. 

I would like to say my evening got better but it didn't. Went to see a band with a group of friends and they were in a group. Groups tend to love themselves more than anyone else around them. They came in a group and left in a group. And then there was me. I was home by 1.30. Stopped by the video store to borrow some movies and bumped into this annoying lad that was reciting the movies to what I can only hope was his girlfriend. Yes, I took a picture of him. He refused to leave the place until I confronted him and asked him to buzz off, which he kindly obliged. I bet he thought, "Girl, you need to get a life and lay off the DVDs."

Oh, if he only knew. 

The end.