I thought this weekend was going to be awesome and I was right. Friday night I went out with three of my co-workers, it was just so SATC with the lemon drop cocktails, high heels and hot outfits. But we are way more interesting than Carrie and friends. Our new mom friend, E rounded up a few of us for drinks because: “I never go anywhere anymore unless it’s work and I‘m sick of staying at home.”
If you wanted to play the SATC name game you could call her Miranda. She resembles Miranda in that she’s tallish with chin length hair and has a uterus. But E is funny and without the bitter and markedly un-funny brittleness of Miranda. She’s also about a million and ten times more interesting than Miranda. E also really loves her boyfriend and doesn’t treat him like crap. It helps her Boy is more Aiden than Steve.
M. “Our Lady Of The Bouncy Ponytail” came a little late but was very much present before she got there. She is like Charlotte physically: gamine, cute and smart. A lot smarter than Charlotte. M just read a book with the title--I kid you not--Why Men Love Bitches to try and understand why her boyfriend started having meltdowns about her “rushing” him into marriage. She reely admits (but not too much) she isn't sure she wants to marry him and she knows she isn’t ready to get married. Cute, gamine, smart but not desperate like Charlotte. \So far the advice in the book has worked because M’s Boy has simmered the Hell down and has become the boy she was dating six months ago.
So before anyone starts thinking…I’m thinking of myself as the Bushnell character…stop…take a breath and look next to Carrie. I’m her weird little gay boyfriend with the big glasses and the bright suits. Total misfit with these babes. They keep me around because I'm funny. Or at least think I'm hilarious.
Last but certainly not least, there’s our MILF friend (she had a co-starring role in a blog last summer) Uh…huh…she is Samantha but this time Samantha landed Mr. Big. Our S actually funny and doesn’t pose or speak in smirky pronouncements that pretend to be biting when really they are yawn inducing. She’s also one of the most generous and down to earth women I know. Our Samantha is the real deal. S is also a new gramma at the ripe old age of 45 and proud to be The Hot Gramma. And boy howdy, she won’t let you forget she’s The Hot Gramma. S has probably the most perfectly augmented breasts I’ve ever seen in real life (IN HER CLOTHING…OMG I work with this woman!! Gawd, get your minds’ out of the gutter!) But we did almost get a full frontal of them, given the cut of her extremely cut top. When we met outside of the restaurant, I gave her a hug and confessed.
“So don’t hate me if I forget to look you in the eye, because damn…your breasts? Sort of hard to miss.”
“Oh don’t worry about it, I paid enough for them I want people to look at ’em. Why I have ’em!”
E joins us, gives both of us hugs and says,” S those are some breasts you’ve got there!”
“I told her that I was going to have a hard time looking her in the eye.”
“June, I’m going to have a hard time looking her in the eye! And girls have never really occurred to me as an option!” Clearly, E was already mesmerized by The Breasts, too.
Later after a couple of yummy Lemon drop Martinis we are seated and had met our waiter we were left on our own to muse about this young man who was incredibly monotone and a bit shall we say…stiff?
“June did you notice how when we gave him our order he didn’t even look at us but stared at S’s breasts?”
I narrowed my eyes and smiled an evil grin: “I did notice that. I wonder if he will look at us at all.”
“But Oh my gawd, he was so boring, he needs to you know…LOOSEN UP! Yay!! I mean talk to us, be friendly. Have a conversation with us!” S let go with one of her patent party girl moves that never fails to make me laugh even during the weirdest moments at work.
You can only imagine what happened over the next few hours, every time we called him to the table, S would bend over just a little bit and lean forward. Every time she did this patented Pin Up Girl move he would stammer and his affect would become even more flat. We had made an unspoken pact with one another to mess with this kid.
We acted like complete Mean Girls and squealing with laughter every time he took he and his discomfort away from the table with yet another drink order and sushi request. And after an hour of waiter torture M joined us. When she sat down with us, I thought this waiter was either going to have a seizure or run away crying like a scared little girl because M isn’t just pretty, she is Hollywood pretty. Luminous comes to mind when you see her. Not only is she pretty and smart but she reads people like Lady Cleo on the psychic network so after ordering her drink she turned to S and pointedly said:
“Dude, he is totally NOT looking at your face. You knew that didn’t you? I mean has he stopped looking at your boobs, at all?”
We all squealed with laughter again but while I was laughing I sort of felt sorry for him because I think he was hypnotized by her boobs and was in some kind of Tata induced trance which rendered him speechless. Or at least I hoped that’s what it was because if it wasn’t.
Dude was boring.