I loathed and loathed and loathed the idea of going to my co-workers son’s third birthday today.
With every part of my body I fought the urge to suddenly have a violent illness so I could stay home with my friend and watch divergent and complain about my hangover.
The coworker really wanted me to be there and I still don’t get that. When I see her son I basically greet him with “Hello, child” or ask something about his day. “Did you play today?” I imagine he says back in his mind “No you twig-wit” (I feel like that’s a scouring word for a three year old to say) “I paid the bills, of course I played!”These are the kinds of conversations I see myself and a three year old having. You can see why I don’t associate with them much.
So anyways I was a wonderful person and still went to this party even though I was decidedly late, wore a shirt that purposely showed my tattoo, and bought the present for the child just minutes before the actual event started.
Then I realized this party was an hour away. No three year old is worth this. Unless that three year old has a smoking hot dad.
I got lost, went down some windy streets, a couple in their car drove past me and asked if I needed help because I was basically throwing my phone on the dashboard hoping it would break so I could give up on my GPS and go home.
I parked down, down, down this long road after wondering if I would ever be able to make it back up. I’m a suburbs girl folks, I don’t know what you want from me.
So the party itself wasn’t all that bad. A girl my coworker knows who is 27 and single sat with me for most of the time and talked to me about everything going on in her life, which while not super fascinating was loads better than attempting to interact with the children.
The theme of the party was Pirates by the way, bandanas and medallions and eye patches galore. Then the pirate booty came and by that I mean a cute guy showed up.
Friends with the coworkers husband and appeared single simply because a three year old’s birthday party is exactly the party you bring your girlfriend to, and I know that only because everyone brought their girlfriend and or boyfriend to that party with the exception of me and the 27 year old, and of course, Mr. Pirate Booty.
If you’re wondering if I’m going to keep using the name let me assure you that I am. And if you’re wondering if he has a wonderful booty, I really couldn’t tell you because he was sitting down a lot.
Mr. Pirate Booty is not my usual physical type because he is blonde and looks like he goes to the gym on a regular basis.He did not look super nerdy or intelligent looking but he did come off as adorably shy with a twinge of awkward which basically makes me hot all over.
We were chatting a little bit and I had actually expected the 27 year old single girl to swoop in and claim him but she stayed rather aloof and disinterested in the conversation and I managed to ask him a couple of questions.
If you’re thinking that I’ve changed and have now begun hitting on guys at parties, I regret to inform you that I waited over an hour to say one word to him, I only said the one word because I had to. But never the less conversation did commence and we said goodbye twice!
I would really love for my coworker to bring him up at work tomorrow but if she doesn’t then I would really love to be brave enough to just ask her about him. And I would really really love if at every child’s birthday party there could be a cute single guy who wears pale blue v-necks and even laughs shyly, whom I could practice flirting with. That is the child-birthday-party-dream!
Also apparently Mr. PB was at this coworkers wedding which I attended several months ago, and people are surprised I did not remember him. People also forget how much I drink at weddings.
Well regardless if I have seen this guy before, I’ve seen him now, and I ain’t mad about it. If I ever see him again I’ll be sure to inform you readers whether he does or does not have a booty worth walking the plank for….
I’m sorry. I’m not sure what that means but Arrrgh matey!