It Happens Every Time

Beers. Limes. Chips. Salsa. Hummus. Crackers. All the stuff Kate carries around in her Mary Poppins purse on a good day.

We have flagged down our favorite waitress and promise to move to her section as soon as we've polished off these last few beers, peed and applied lipstick.

Julia --- which we pronounce "Juuuuuuuuulia" has been our wing man waitress for three or four summers now. She hooks us up. She is a font of social intel. She knows all the bands, where the cute men are hanging out these days, and which girls are trouble. There are always girls who are trouble. Sometimes we are them. It depends on who is with us.

I finish my beer and decide to get a long sleeve shirt (perfectly coordinated with the bikini and shorts and tank, by the way, from the room. While I'm in there I'll pee, run a little gloss through my hair, put on a fun hat, and tweak the makeup. I will magically look like a casual beach babe from Bay Watch in under a minute.

I return to the gals and Jill is ready to get a table. She always looks like a babe from Bay Watch even after hours in the sweltering heat, so she is ready to go. I am instantly glad I reapplied moisturizer. Jill is glowing. She is a perfect wing man. She tells me Juuuuulia said that the band is fantastic and to get a table near the stage. That way we'll see everyone and everyone will see us. We love Juuuulia's logic.

Jill and I find a table that easily seats six and people around us seethe as we have derrieres for only 2 seats but claim they are taken when descended upon by large, flat-footed women with knocked knees and sturdy bathing suits who simply wanted to take a load off. Literally.

Kate drops by the table on the way to drop her stuff in the room and place her hat and wallet in front of one of the empty seats. At that very moment, Jill remarks about a couple of cute guys who may or may not be looking our way. Kate looks at them and says, "Liza, two of those guys are the ones we ran into on the way to my car. We said we'd find them. I think they found us first."

Juuuulia swings past with a drink order for another table and says as if she had overheard. "Yes, girls, those guys are checking you out. Surprise, surprise."

Moments later. Joy comes to the table looking fab. Then Kate comes back looking fresh and gorgeous. Juuuuulia comes and takes our drink order. And as she leaves, an envoy from the Pack of Guys comes over. He is sort of disheveled and cool looking. Like a trouble maker with a great sense of humor and a college degree. I am a total sucker for the type.

He sits in one of the few remaining chairs and makes a half assed introduction. Then he leans in and gestures for us to do the same. He needs to whisper something.

We are too cool to act that intrigued. At most, we shift a butt cheek. Lean on an elbow. Jill and I don't even bother. She is smoking and I am taking a first sip of something Juuuuulia told me to try.

"I am with a bunch of buddies on a guys weekend and we were wondering if you ladies knew where we could score some pot."

Joy is the first to become hysterical laughing. And she shrills, "You looked at all of these people at this bar and you figured that we would be your best bet for scoring pot? Are you INSANE?"

We are all laughing now. The ridiculousness of the notion gets funnier and funnier moment by moment. We are all parents. Some of us are teachers. Some of us are seeking jobs and will be subject to drug testing. Most of us have not even considered the idea in over 30 years if at all.

And as if on cue, the rest of his buddies descend on the table, all having found random chairs not occupied by butts at other tables. We make for a rambunctious group.

And suddenly the see-and-be-seen table has become the life of the party at the poolside beach bar on Girls Weekend.

As it should be.