It’s Friday date night in the ‘Ville. I look forward to this night, as it doesn’t come around with much regularity. It’s mostly my fault because I have filled my life with a lot of cool stuff, but the tradeoff is limited room around the edges. Every couple weeks, for my own sanity, I make an effort to clear some time and get out on a date.
I am fortunate that my date is always in a good mood and happy to spend time with me. He knows I’m busy during the week, always rushing to work, or skate practice or dance class. Lately, I’ve been even scarcer, working through lunches and staying late to finish some work on a project because the days keep being sucked into a vortex of meetings. There was not one day this week with fewer than three hours of meetings. That’s actually a conservative number, most days had nearly twice that much time incarcerated in the conference room, but I’m too brain-fried to think about it any further. Fortunately, when I leave work for the day, I leave work. It’s done. Move on to the next thing.
Tonight, the next thing was my date. He’s a great companion but shorter than I usually like my men to be. Hey, some stuff just needs to be overlooked – he makes up for it in personality. He’s handsome and makes me laugh, but his breath could use some help. And he has a problem with gas, but it’s been my experience that most males do – once they become comfortable, they just let it rip whenever and act like nothing happened.
We headed out, me in my short brown skirt with brown tweed tights and brown boots, maroon vee neck, and cream and brown hoodie, topped with my latest leather jacket acquisition from Goodwill – the same thing I wore to work. Why mess with cute? I already learned a lesson earlier this week about fixing something that wasn’t broken and messing it up big time in the end.
My guy looked great in a red and gray sweater with a narrow white stripe – my high school colors. We went to PetSmart for dog food and treats. It was a relaxing half hour of roaming the aisles and looking at dog beds (plusher than my own), rawhide chew toys, Science Diet Sensitive Skin formula food (more expensive than most of what I eat). I’d like to buy larger bags so I don’t have to go there every two weeks, but I don’t have a place to store the 15 or 30 pound bag, so, it was the 4.5 pound bag which fits neatly under the kitchen sink.
With that critical errand accomplished (there was not one nugget of Science Diet left), we headed back to the house. It was already dark, so walking at Dunbar Cave was out, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. The house is a cluttered mess because I’m never there long enough to clean up what I leave behind in my whirlwind jaunts through the place. Luckily for me, he doesn’t even notice.
Now that we’re home, my date is ignoring me. I might as well be wallpaper. He no longer cares to sit with me. All he cares about now is gnawing on a rawhide chew. He got what he needs (a trip out and some new chew toys) and now I’m on my own. Such a dog.