Sunday, May 17, 2009

New Socks

So I'm gonna just run with this from my perspective, which probably has no bearing on truth or reality, except that perspective defines reality from a given position.


Yesterday I went up to Fredericksburg and bought a new car. I was giggling like a little girl all afternoon, and looking for any excuse to not stay home last night. So I called my buddy Daniel, and he passed along an invitation to a 70's party. I jumped at the chance to 1) drive my new car and 2) meet new people 3) especially the, uh, female kind. Cause you know what? I'm alone. Not quite single, but not married, either (I still wear my ring, and I miss Amanda tremendously, but there's a reality to this shit, too, that exceeds the romantic).

So I got there and within minutes met a stunning young lady. We were yukking it up in no time, and before I knew what was what, I was getting an offhanded invitation to come visit her at her house at some indefinite point. To share her hookah. Word, yo! Conversation with her and Daniel ventured to relative age, and he said that I was the oldest at the party. She didn't believe me, and asked how old I am. I made her guess.

She came back with 22. Holy somethingorother! Are you serious? I'm a 33-year-old widower who's just been told I look 22 AND been invited back to her house. Good, no?


Apparently she hadn't yet seen my socks. Or my belt-clip cell-phone holder. One look near my feet and she starts laughing and pointing. I wear short socks, but I wear socks. Evidently that's not done any more, 'cause then she blurts out, "If I'd seen the socks first, I would have said 30." Thank God I left my walker and golf pants in the car.

However, the moment is salvaged by some quick mental footwork and banter.

An hour LATER, after much alcohol, chitchat, flirtation, and heart palpitations, she says, "My husband should be here soon." Come again? Your what? [sing-song] AWKWARD.

Yep. So anyway, today I went and bought new socks. Really short ones that kind of hide in the shoe. Heaven forbid I should actually look my age. (Watch, these kids probably have some litmus test whereby they examine your footwear specifically for the kind of socks I'm trying to get away with. Bastards. Get off my lawn!)


Girl With Curious Hair said...

1. You hookah?!
2. She still guessed your age less than your real age--so it's still a win.
3. Her husband? Um.

ahamos said...

1. No, but I wasn't going to quibble.
2. By 11 years. Oh yes indeedy.
3. Yeah, and um, I'm embarrassed to say, I hadn't even bothered looking at her left hand until she mentioned him. At 24, I didn't expect her to be married. Moot point, though, I suppose. *Sigh*

Kim said...

I got teary laughing over this one. Oh the pain of getting back into the game...

That said - Good for you! First steps are the hardest. Was she impressed by your new wheels?!

Next time around demand Daniel whomever is a better wing guy (should have given you the word on the ring thing) and ensure your belt is also current. Another dead ringer for age. So they tell me.

ahamos said...

Daniel did quite well, truth be told. Most of this occurred with us on the well-lit side of a window, and she on the dark-side.

I'm pretty sure the belt is timeless. It's a leather belt from Structure (yes, over 10 years old) that strangely has been worn probably 2000 times and never wears out. But I will look into it.

She never saw the car, but my elation over it probably rubbed off on my general demeanor. Thank God I didn't offer her a ride: I was pretty well hammered.

Daniel said...

no comment.