You’re welcome in advance for this not being a whiny post about my less than envious love life. Can I really even call it a love life if I haven’t had any semblance of a relationship in uh, years?! *cue sad music*
Anywho, this is a post about my fun weekend at the beach with a college friend. Well, a post about what I can remember from my fun weekend at the beach with a college friend. My friend and I are kind of in the same boat as far as guys go. She’s at least had a couple short lived relationships in the past few years, but the guys always either ghost, flip out or turn into someone other than who they appeared to be. She tries to slog through the wold of online dating as well. We are both convinced that our bad luck in love at our advanced ages is Karma firmly kicking us in the ass for all the fun we had in our 20s. Believe me, we had a LOT of fun back then.
Back to the beach. We arrived on Thursday afternoon and immediately decided to start day drinking. Bad decision #1. Bad decision #2 was to make an exceptionally strong (and large) vodka soda. Bad decision #3 was to decide, when I discovered that I forgot to bring lemons, to add an entire can of Mike’s Harder Lemonade to my already lighter-fluid-ish drink in order to get that lemon flavor. Bad decision #4 was to then decide, after sucking that gross tasting concoction down (can’t waste perfectly good alcohol) that since it was technically National Margarita Day (that’s a thing, right?) to go to the restaurant on property to enjoy some 2 for 1 Margaritas. Details after that are a little fuzzy. As in I don’t really remember shit. My friend did assure me that I didn’t make a complete ass of myself and that I was safely passed out on the couch without having embarrassed myself too much. Passed out on the couch by 8:30pm. Lovely.
The next couple of days included many many cocktails, a lobster-esque sunburn, getting lost multiple times in a town that I should really be able to navigate by now and not a single solitary conversation with anyone of the opposite sex. Well, that’s unless you include the short and sweet conversation we had with the ridiculously drunk and obnoxious husband of the wife teetering around on stiletto heals. At the beach. Oh, and by ‘short and sweet’ I of course mean ‘he was a ginormous idiot that I had to stop my friend from knocking out as he had absolutely NO filter when it came to what he thought was appropriate to say to complete strangers’.