Edited by Rebecca Lomax
The Recycling Drive
Time-outs are great for kids who misbehave, but I find that a self-induced time-out is in order when you feel a little strung out and run down. Since I was feeling edgy as early as Wednesday, I declined the offer to get out of town on the Delta weekend fare with a friend and planned very little for myself this weekend.
The idea of being alone in my house seemed glorious. The problem is the new 12-week old puppy named Maggie who now resides at my house. She needs loads of attention and I was tapped out, so I enlisted Diamond, a friend's 6-year-old black Labrador. Doggy camp commenced in the fenced yard and I lay naked on my bed, freshly showered in the silence. This is just what I need. My Happy Hour nap was perfect.
My stomach woke me, reminding me that it needed fed just like the dogs out back. With a quick check I realized I could make the 7:45 movie at Tri-County Showcase Cinemas that now serves food of a million varieties. Puppy chow for dogs, junk food for my stomach and a chick flick for the soul.
The Ya Ya Sisterhood seemed like the ticket, since I'd missed the gang outing on Thursday night. They'd given it the thumbs up rating. I settled in with buttered popcorn, ready to be entertained. While I relished seeing Ashley Judd sans make-up, I cried more than I laughed. It's a powerful story of friendship and the gals sure could zing the one-liners, but it's heavy stuff. Thank God I didn't bring a guy along.
Saturday I lay around in bed with the newspapers, cleaned up my mountainous pile of clothes and ate out of containers in the refrigerator. The dogs watched eagerly every spoonful. I threw them a thousand balls, weeded the brick sidewalk and worked on a tan. Could I become a dog lady instead of a cat lady?
Fearing the recluse factor, I decided to go to a party in Hyde Park that a guy friend suggested earlier in the week. What the heck! Mike's harmless. Been there, done that with him more than four years before. Now we keep in touch by e-mail, gossip about mutual friends and discuss whom we're dating. I could use the company. He suggested that we meet at 9 at his house, which was near the party address, so I agreed.
I ran down to Turfway Race Track where the Burlington Horse Show was taking place to deliver a suit to a participant and decided to grab a bite to eat at the Taste of Boone County while I was there. Robin Lacy was on stage, which was perfect entertainment, as I ate my pulled pork sandwich. He's easy on the ears and the eyes, plus I love it that it's his wife playing washboard on the stage next to him. Otherwise, I'd be tempted to become a groupie for sure.
As the storm rolled in, I headed to my friend's house. Mike still needed to shower, so I flipped channels on the big screen. Guys have infinitely better equipment and more cable channels, so as the rain pelted the windows I forgot about the party altogether absorbed in TV land.
Finally, the rain subsided and Mike reappeared, so off we went to the party. The band was in the garage and sounded a lot like the U2 song they were playing. Beer was on tap with lots of the guests dressed like rock stars, so I settled into people watching mode.
Clint Black, Kid Rock and Madonna were my favorites. Mike liked the chick with the barbed wire tattoo on her arm. I agreed her arms had the look. Unfortunately, no guy entertained my fantasies in this crowd, but the music was good and I was among the living, not barking, so I couldn't complain.
Mike's ex-girlfriend showed up for a slightly awkward moment around midnight, so he was ready to go. I'd suppressed yawns for an hour anyway, so I was game. Back at his house, I plopped on the couch, grabbing my keys off the floor where I left them, as he entertained with a story of a threesome call.
Now I never thought there were many threesome offers floating around the Hyde Park single scene, but maybe I was wrong. He assured me that the person confessed she was appalled to get the call. I agreed this could be weird. Who wants to run into your threesome participants at The Echo or Teller's?
Laughter aside, I rose to leave when Mike laid it on me: "STAY."
If he meant the sofa, maybe, but he went on to say that he missed kissing me. He suggested that we have a standing date and an uncomplicated arrangement with no questions asked. All this poured out of his mouth quickly, smoothly and, it appeared, sincerely.
Politely, I declined his offers and headed home to check on the puppy and dog. Recycling will be left for Rumpke.
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