When I first meet the wrong kind of right I will be bored with his looks and entertained with his personality. When I see the right kind of wrong, I will coyly glance in his direction and flirtatiously look away; the challenge and game of it all. Suck it. I am bored with that. So I started to do opposites. It’s very Seinfeld, George I believe. George threw out his traditional logic, granted it was George logic, he decided to go against his normal behavior and reverse everything. EVERYTHING. So I tried it. Opposite day was always on a Wednesday when we were kids however, it was Friday night. Opposites worked like a magic talisman I wore around my neck, proving their worth.
I ventured out Friday night exhausted from the work week with 4 pals by my side, we tempted trouble. We prepared ourselves with red bull, friendship and an empty tank of gas.
“I have you on the list, your coming right?”
“Um….yes we’ll be there,” (I only half meant it at the time) “Call me on your way and we’ll meet you outside.”
I still wanted to back out. However, I was stuck and was being drug halfway across town to change out of flip flops and into heels. Heels people, the one’s that promised, even threatened a blister or five. Because it was opposite day, how old am I, I decided to wear them on a Friday. We shot the bull, red of course, hopped in the Tank, new shoes and all.
That was only the beginning.
I did something I would never do.
I voted for Pedro.
I think he was stoned, he looked rather stoned. If he wasn’t stoned, he was from a farm in rural Texas and had a dilatory look about him. We captured Mullets, danced to Duran Duran, White Snake, Cyndi Lauper all the while Living On A Prayer …and Vodka. We danced surrendering our bodies to the 80’s and rejoicing in the memories of the era.
A good time was had by all; I wonder what Pedro eats when he gets the munchies.
Man, we’re getting old.
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