-This post is best enjoyed with a very dirty martini-

As I have been starting to get my single sea legs back I find myself going out quite a bit.  Yes I’m on dating sites but I still find that the good old fashioned meeting is far more exciting.  Luckily for me I have great friends from various parts of my life, at varying ages, with various interests; so I can get out and ideally meet people in many venues.  I’m finding that is easier said than done.

Basically Dating Sucks.  So I’m going to just enjoy my time with my friends and nurture those relationships.  Last night was one of those nights that will forever be a “remember when” moment for me and my friend Leah.

I met Leah because we both liked to watch football at a very small dive bar on Sundays and although she is a Giants fan we have become friends.  Like many of my friends now Leah is younger than me.  Most of the friends my age are married, getting married, having babies or buying second homes.  I’m just happy I got a dog last week. (more to come…)

Heading over to Leah’s to meet up with her and her friend visiting from Ireland I was digging my outfit although I quickly realized I looked like a dirty pirate hooker.  (Imagine grey knee high flat boots, grey jeans, basically a version of the Seinfeld puffy shirt just sluttier, denim jacket and huge earrings)  Even with that realization I still was digging it.  One point to me for learning to care less what people think about my clothes.

Since we were up for something different we decided to get out of our neighborhood bubble and head over the river into Boston.  I suggested we go see a friend I used to work with who manages a little restaurant in the north end; he had promised if I ever came to visit drinks were on him.  Things escalated quickly.

Within moments of sitting down at the bar, my old coworker (we’ll call him Peter*) was bouncing around us and asking us if we wanted to get stoned.  We all looked at each other and shrugged, sure.  Minutes later Peter came by and said OK lets go outside.  We wandered outside to the side alley near the restaurant and were joined by two other patrons, who we thought also knew Peter, turns out they had just paid their check and he simply invited them out.

So there we were, smoking a joint outside (cause now it’s legal) with someone I found myself catching up with, a good friend, her good friend and a random couple that looked to be about 23ish.  After finishing the joint Peter said “well I guess I should get back in and get back to work”.  The 5 of us found ourselves talking about politics which is scary enough with some of the people you know; dangerous when it is two total strangers.  Not only two strangers, but ones that, if I’m going to be honestly judgmental, I feared wouldn’t share any of our very liberal political views.  Lesson learned; don’t judge a book by it’s cover.  Somehow that lead into the  fact that Leah is a teacher, our new friends had a hard time wrapping their mind around the idea that teachers get drunk.  Leah quickly explained that when you spend the day with a toddler who is staring at you while picking his nose and then demanding you hold his snot fingered hand; dirty martini’s immediately after work are necessary.

Leah’s friend was quickly realizing that it was 4am Ireland time and she needed to go back and sleep.

Heading back in to have another drink we found out they had also just gotten a dog; so out came the pictures and stories.  Then the absolute greatest sentence ever uttered came out of our new friends mouth after he did a quick tequila shot with his girlfriend…

“What a night; I’m a little buzzed and I’m just so fricken excited to go home and see my dog!  I keep hoping I look alright to see him!” (He then nonchalantly ran his hand through his hair)

At that point we knew it was time to head out, so we paid our ridiculously low bill (THANKS PETER) and decided to traipse about.  We wandered around and went to a few typical Boston bars, people watching, giggling, half drinking the worst dirty martini ever, and having a heart to heart about the difficulty of finding authenticity in others.  Finally at our last stop standing at the bar sandwiched between the dude falling asleep on his bar stool and the grey sweatshirt mafia on our left; I had an interesting 3 part revelation.

Dating still Sucks especially if this is whats out there.

Thank god I have good friends.

I think the pirate look works for me.

*some names will be changed for a multitude of reasons.  Names not changed know I’m writing about them and I probably like them more than others.