The Morning After The Night Before

I can hardly wait for the girls to wake up. And not just because the bed is sandy. Obviously Joy had gone for a walk on the beach at some point. And brought home half a dune to sleep on. Someone is on the other side of the room snoring. I can't tell who in the pitch blackness. But I am certain that I will never be able to get back to sleep now that I've gotten up to pee and there is a a slumbering rhinoceros in the the room.

I am dying to tell them about John.

I am dying to hear what I missed when John and I left the group in search of Snapple.

I am dying to know what they think of John. What Mark, Chris and The Beave have to say about their friend. Or am I really? I like him.

What if the girls think he is not worth my time? What if they think I can do better? What if they say that they looked him up on Facebook and it looks like he has a girlfriend? What if they say they think he's just a flirt on a guys weekend? What if they say that a friend of a friend of a friend works with him and he's a total asshole? Will that make me think differently? I never listened before and wound up married to Lars and then spent three years with J. when they knew in three weeks that he was not going to be good for me.

And what about the guys? What if the guys say he's a loser? Or a womanizer? Or has uncommonly bad hygiene on most days? Or has a girlfriend? Or is still in love with his ex-wife? Or cheated on his ex-wife? What will that tell me? And how much weight will I give it?

What if the guys diss me??? What if they think I'm too old? Or a clinger? Or not pretty enough? Or dance funny or talk funny or do anything funny except be funny?

Every opinion comes from somewhere. And that "somewhere" usually has a foundation on at least some kernel of truth. And I have not exactly been a shining star in when it has come to forming my own opinions. I have made some collossally bad choices. What if his friends think he has, too?

But I think everyone will be in favor. Something tells me I would have known if they weren't long before this morning.

Oh, wait. I did.

When the bell had rung for last call, and we'd all gottn our last drinks (for the moment), and the harsh department store lighting had come on (Who's adorable now...?), we'd all been in a group at the middle bar (as opposed to the far bar, the near bar, the back bar, the upstairs bar or the outside bar - to be specific). I had danced my tailfeathers off both with the girls and with the guys and specifically with John. I had hopped up on a bar stool at last call to enjoy my drink without the risk of falling down. (Joy had not been so lucky and took and Olympic ice skating caliber fall on the tiles. Bruised her ass, bruised her ego, but was not really hurt and did not destroy her outfit).

When the lights had come on, John had asked me to hold his drink for a moment, he was using the men's room. I'd turned to put it on the bar and Chris had materialized at my side.

"Hello," I'd said.

"Hello," he'd said with the same intonation.

"So you went with Plan B, huh?" I'd snarked. He'd laughed.

"You guys were not really Plan B," he'd admitted. "We were just teasing."

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes and no."

I'd looked at him like he was nuts.

He'd shaken his head like I'd missed something. "I had a great time. Band was great. The dancing. But my buddy got the girl."

I'd looked at him confused. He'd danced with lots of girls. Had gotten lots of attention. "But you are married. You can't really get the girl" I'd said, sounding like Sandra Dee, and still not getting it.

"You and John," he'd explained.

"Oh, THAT girl," I'd replied like a complete moron, getting it.

"Yes, my buddy got THAT girl."

I wasn't sure if that was a confession or an endorsement but whatever it was, it was clear that I was in favor. But was not at all clear if it was a good thing.