After all these years...

          This weekend, I hosted my little sister's bachelorette party.  It wasn't supposed to be anything too wild; just myself and five other friends having a good time back in our old college town.  When we arrived at the kareoke bar my sister requested, I felt like I was returning to the scene of a crime.  I was immediately flooded with memories of my own college days.  My intention was to be the grown up.  I am six years older than most of the girls, not to mention, married with a child.  When the night began, everything was going according to my plan.  I should have known that any night that began at a bar called Shenanigans would end with a few shenanigans too.  
          When the girls started doing kareoke, I sat at the table, guarding purses and taking pictures.  When we dealt the first hand of Bachelorette Dare Cards, I slyly slipped mine into my purse.  I was not about to ask a stranger to take a body shot off of me or find a bald man in the bar and kiss his head.  The only bald head I kiss these days is my husband's, thank you very much.  As the night wore on and the bar filled up, I began seeing old familiar faces.  When my Red Bull and vodka kicked in, I relaxed and even allowed my sister to pull me from my chair for a dance.  By the time the girls were ready to leave, I had come out of my shell and was beginning to remember how much fun it is to have a true girl's night out.  As we left Shenanigans, I spoke to the familiar old faces and gave them brief updates on our common acquaintances.  One guy introduced me to his friend.  I assumed he was just being polite, since his friend (we'll call him Tony--he looked like someone on "Jersey Shore") was standing there as we chatted.  At the next bar, I noticed that my old friend and Tony were there too.  Coincidence?  Maybe.  I hoped.  The girls and I danced in a tight-knit circle to prevent any guys from ruining our girl time.  We sipped water, except for the bride, who was still taking shots bought for her by old friends.  At closing time (2:00 a.m.), my Red Bull was still in full swing, and another bridesmaid and I tried to convince my sister and the other girls that we should find a late-night party.  Apparently Tony was listening in.  He pulled us aside and offered to host a late-night party at his house and invited all of us.  I informed him (again) that I was married and was just trying to make sure my sister enjoyed her last night out.  He was persistent.  As we walked to my SUV, his pleas were still ringing in my ears.  "Please come over.  I'll treat you right!"  "Can I have your number?  Can I call you?  I don't even know your name!" 

          In the car, I was giddy.  I had done it!  I had gone out with the girls and picked up a guy at a bar without even trying!  It was proof that I am still attractive to someone besides my husband.  I know it sounds silly that a happily married woman should need to find validation in such a way, but since the birth of my son, I have honestly wondered if I still "had it."  You know... it's that something you have in college that guys can't seem to resist, but somewhere along the way it gets lost.  Charm, spunk, appeal... or maybe it's just confidence... whatever it is, I felt it had disappeared after I settled into married life. 

          Back at the hotel, the girls and I finished the sangria that I had made and laughed about the antics of the night.  Finally, at four o'clock, we decided to get some sleep.  The next day, when my sister and I arrived back at my house, hungover and unshowered, my husband laughed.  He knows the sign of a good time.  He unloaded my car while we lounged on the couch and my son napped.  Later that I evening, I told him about Tony, the guy who wanted to take me home.  He smiled and spun me around in the kitchen.  As we danced in front of the sink he said, "That's my baby!  She's still got it after all these years."
Monday afternoon, I got an AARP notification in the mail.  Thank you for the reality check!