Shooters in an egg cup – Part One

 

Since the tales of small town life were starting to run dry (not sure how much more about farm animals I had left in me) I thought I should go out and find some new material.  ‘Courage for the sake of a more ameezing blog’, my mantra as I armed myself with lip gloss and a warm coat and headed out, to the local pub. Alone. At night.  Just because.

Sure, girls do it in the movies all the time.  I watched Zooey Deschanel in ‘Winter Passing’ in scenes where she sits alone in a bar having shots with the barman and thought, ‘how does she do that?!’.  I have eaten breakfast, lunch and even dinner many times alone in restaurants, but a bar, with no bathroom window to escape out of, never.  I’m more of a Hermione Granger than a Coyote Ugly.

My friend Ryan suggested I have a shooter or two before I leave home. My parents are not shot glass kind of people so I shot gin out of an egg cup with a grinning lion on it and headed out the door.  I drove half way down the dirt road and realised I couldn’t see anything out the back window. The back lights didn’t seem to be working. A Coyote Ugly would have put the hazards on and driven there anyway, wind in her hair, Bon Jovi blasting on the radio. But I’m a Hermione Granger, so I turned around, went home and watched the Robert Pattinson special on E! instead.

This morning, at the auto garage, which looked like Brad Pitt’s house in Fight Club but with a parrot on the verandah that said ‘hello love’ alot,  the mechanic switched the car lights on (they worked perfectly) and said,  ‘It’s dark out here love, of course you couldn’t see anything’.  I turned the colour of a tourist who fell asleep in the sun and said, ‘Oh, I’m really stupid’ and he replied,  ‘Yes, maybe’.

So tonight, I will slap on some more lip gloss and head out the door again, car in complete working order.  And attempt to get further than just down the road.  I’ll let you know how it goes…

 

PS. Part Two.

 

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