Out With The Girls

I just got back from a ladies party...you know what I'm talking about....where a group of women (no men allowed) all sit around and talk shit, make bad jokes, and discuss sex and talk about their man's staying power...or lack there of (snerk..chuckle..giggle)and buy....uh...marital aids (blush).

This is only the second one I've been too and I have had a really good time at both of them. Women are really funny when it comes to sex. I have heard some stories at these parties that have made my jaw drop and some that have made me laugh so hard I couldn't breathe. You could blame all the silliness on the alcohol or you could blame it on.....ummm...never mind....blame it on the alcohol.

Well, I learned the last time I went to a party, to make sure you dress NICELY...women can be very critical....and to make sure you SHAVE YOUR LEGS....and NOOOOO, I'm not going to tell you why.

So, I shaved and showered like a good girl. Did my hair, and my make up and went a made the dip I promised I'd bring (one 8oz cream cheese softened, one 8oz sour cream, put in mixer, mix until creamy, add one packet of taco seasoning. I use old el paso myself - it's always a big hit. Top with cubed tomatoes and green onions), and stuffed it in the refrigerator. Then I went and got dressed.

I had pulled a pair of jeans out of the back of the closet that I hadn't worn in a while and had forgotten about, and a nice purple sweater that seems to keep me at just the right temperature, and is casual and slightly dressy - and better yet, it comes down far enough to hide my hips but still shows a little ass. To finish, I slipped on some casual dress shoes (my shoe of choice) and beat feet to the party.

I was feeling pretty good. I felt like I looked pretty good and I was desperately in need of a night out with the girls (something I haven't had in many, many moons)...and I was on a high...just a feel good, be free for one night high. I damn near busted the speakers and strained a vocal cord on the way over to Old Friends house.

The evening progressed and we were shown various items and smelled stuff in bottles and were shown books and games and a whole bunch of other stuff that set a bunch of half drunk grown women with children - some of them married 15 years or more - tittering like school girls in sex education class in high school. We had all had a great time....

...and then it happened. That moment of keen embarassment....that OH SHIT moment....moments that are becoming more frequent to me the older I get.

I was sitting in the corner in a chair - in full view of the room, holding product samples on Q-tips... samples that are meant to go...uh well...uh...you know...down there......and then my fly burst open. No shit. My fly burst open.

Now, you could say that it was a sign that I needed to buy those products.

You could say that I had gotten to fat for my pants....I'm sure you, dear reader, could say a lot of things...what you couldn't say however, was that I was in a good position at that point...no pun intended.

Luckily, my sweater was covering my fly - remember I told you it was a little long...and it's a damn good thing.

I was sitting there with the samples in my hand, my fly wide open, and THEN the "Romance Enhancement Specialist" (aka the sales lady) pulls out a double sided dildo and announces we are going to play a game with it.

Oh SSSHHHIIIIIIIIIIITTT.

As I was desperately trying to figure out a way out of this situation, a vague memory of WHY THE DAMN PANTS WERE IN THE BACK OF THE CLOSET came to me. They were in the back of the closet because the lock on the zipper was broken and the frigging things would unzip all of the sudden...just like they had tonight. (I couldn't bear to throw them out and was just going to wear them around the house but forgot them instead).

I'm sitting there...slap dab in the middle of this oh shit moment, the sales lady is waving this double sided dildo in my face, my fly is open and the other half drunk ladies are urging me to go try out my samples in the bathroom.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

So I did what any one would do in that situation. I pretended I stubbed my toe and walked bent over all the way to the bathroom and zipped up my pants....after I went pee - because high stress moments like that make me have to go.

I emerged from the bathroom victorious. I had found a safety pin to keep my zipper up...and I was just drunk enough to smile about it...because safety pinning your pants when your drunk isn't easy...and all the other ladies agreed that the samples were great....I just let them think what they wanted. There was no damn way I was going to tell on myself. Would you?

I had forgotten all about the damned samples. Who gives a shit about samples at a time like that? Frankly, it scared me when she waved that double sided dildo at me. I had never seen one before, and I can safely say, I don't care to see another one...and definately not up that close.