Whatever Happened to Saturday Night?

Saturday night I did something I don't normally do.

I not only fought back against a creep who was invading not only my personal space but also presumed that his physical attention was welcomed, but I had the best comeback ever. Movie line perfect, if I may say so myself.

And despite this shadow on my evening, I had a great time.

Let me back up.

Saturday night, I had dinner with several friends, old and new. Tom, Timmy, Matt & Laurel and I went to dinner at Sen, one of the best Thai restaurants around. After indulging in some truly delicious food and imbibing in the best martini ever, I popped away to go see Barry at an art event.

He was a participating artist and since I was downtown, I had to go see him.

It was crazy packed. It was also loud and pretentious.

I couldn't find Barry to save my life, so I went outside to text him, in the hopes that he would be able to direct me better than my aimless wandering seemed to do.

I set my purse on a column base, then proceeded to text. All of a sudden, I'm spun around. My phone goes flying (although, to be quite honest, it seems to work better now). I'm face to face with a guy at least ten years my junior... and drunk.

"What's a pretty gal doing here by herself?"

"Leave me the fuck alone," I reply, my eyes rolling. Here I am not talking to anyone, let alone making eye contact, and I'm still singled out. Fly paper for freaks, I am.

He tsks, then pulls me closer. "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

I'm internally cringing, watching his hand arc up to stroke either my cheek, my hair or -- worse -- my breast.

None of them are an option.

The fact that body parts are touching freaks me out, so I say sweetly, "Nope, the right knee." Then my right knee makes contact with his groin.

I grab my phone, then head inside.

Security asks what happened. I tell them that I was accosted, but fine. However, I'm not too sure how he is. Then I book into the crowd, determined to find Barry. And not deal with any more questions.

I do find him, crammed into a small wing, a live model wearing a skimpy bikini just a few feet from him. It's too loud to talk and to cramped for me to sit by him. Besides, he seemed to be in the drawing zone, so I kiss, chat briefly, then head back out to meet up with everyone at the Cabin Inn, over at the City Museum.

It's relaxed and laid back and just about perfect to just fall into a chair and drink a beer. I of course tell them all what happened. I'm then applauded for my line. And then we settle into our obligatory potty talk.

Who would have thought that my altercation would be overshadowed by the sad, drunk, possibly high woman at the bar?

Since my back was to her, I missed out on most of it -- thank God.

But the fact that her tag was sticking out of her t-back just HAD to be pointed out to me. And then it was proposed that someone go stick it back in for her. Now, mind you, this woman saw Matt's V8 tattoo on his forearm and mistook the engine symbol as something more astral. I said that I'd do it for ten bucks.

Tom ponied up and I was stuck. Crap.

But I squared my shoulders and went up to her, trying to gently explain the situation. She didn't understand and proceeded to get louder and louder, so I just tucked the tag back in and ran.

I think she yelled after me that she wanted me to tear off the tag, but I refused to make eye contact. Unfortunately, Tom, Matt and Tim got an eyeful. I could be wrong, but apparently she proceeded to pull her pants off.

I do know that she was escorted outside.

Barry had rolled into the madness around 10ish, but around 11:30 it was decided that breakfast food was on the menu. Barry parted ways and the rest of us headed over to Uncle Bill's on South Kingshighway.

Love me some bacon and blueberry waffles, but it was too bright to see such garish decor while having previously consumed three drinks. Since I don't drink much, I was grooving.

Plus, Uncle Bill's reminds me of illicit meetings and dirty thoughts, hence why it was way too bright in there.

But the food is cheap, fast and pretty good.

After giving Tom shit about his eating choices, because it was his health that we were out celebrating, we consumed, we became overstuffed, we all began to crash.

I desperately wanted to drive everyone back instead of Tom, but I parted ways in the parking lot and let them all get appropriately dispersed.

And while I certainly am much more low-key, homebody even, I really could do that night again.

Minus inappropriate guy and drunk woman.

Here's hoping they met up. Really think that they deserved each other.