Forgive readers, I know it's not technically Friday anymore, but I think here on the Kerry blog I'm going to institue a new feature I'd like to call What the Hell Friday.
This is way more personal than I usually blog, but I can't sleep and whatev — it's my blog, i can change my own rules. Tonight was a night I had been looking forward to since we decided we were coming in for Thanksgiving. Not only did Scott and I have a night out, we were going to see my friend Will's band. Now, I haven't seen Will in 15 years, so I already had some anxiety about this because I'm me and I'm stupid. I've become friends with his wife, who is pretty fab and I would be seeing her and other friends I hadn't seen since I was a size 16, so my insecurity level was at Level Orange. No, that wasn't enough for my little brain. No. So, I forgot to pack undies for the trip and another pair of jeans. So, I figure I'd wear a dress I brought tonight because I didn't want my jeans to smell like smoke from the bar. No big. I put on my Spanx, new bra, and the dress and realize I'm showing WAY more cleavage than legally allowed in Caddo parish. So, I decide to wear my denim jacket and new scarf with it so I won't be arrested for indecent exposure. I decided I looked kinds cute, for me anyway.
Then I called my dad to see when we would see him tomorrow. That was my first mistake. No, second. Like a moron, i'd told him we were going to see Will's band. Dad tells me he and the new girlfriend would be dropping by the bar so I could meet her. What the hell?
Y'all, I don't go to bars. I don't drink, smoke bothers me, I was going to see my friend and hear the band. I haven't been in a bar since 1994. Do the math, people. So, Scott and I went to dinner, it was yum-o-rama. Then we went shopping (I had to have undies and something to wear home Sunday) and to Barnes and Noble and had coffee. My anxiety was rising like the flood waters during Katrina, and I'm on cleavage patrol the whole time.
We get to the bar, talk to Molly, say hi to Will, band starts playing, it's all good. Not 30 minutes in, Dad shows up with the GF. Now when someone says they're stopping by, how long do you think that means? Not almost two freakin' hours! What the hell?
Plus, no one told me it was bring your dad to the tavern night. I knew when he ordered drinks I was going to lose it. I was calm. The band took a break and I sat there trying not to think of breaking a pool cue over my dad's head. I so wanted to bust a ninja move. Really, I'm too damn nice. I wanted to talk to friends, but my dad wanted to make small talk and I loathe small talk. The band starts up again and dad gets the GF another beer. Perfect. Not only am I not wanting to play nice with them, I'm so not in the mood to hear about what a good man dad is when he leaves the table. What the hell?
I have no words. Can anything in my life go half-way normal? Of course not. Can I have one anxiety-ridden moment at a time? Hell no. I may tell the rest of the story later on, right now I'm going to see if a John Hughes movie is on or something with Hugh Grant. It's 2:30 am and I need a comedy not based in reality, 'cause hell if I don't have enough going on here.
What the hell Friday
Published
kerryfaler.blog 
Ok, the million dollar question is this…. was GF at least older than you? Disgusting I know. However, this has happened to me in the past with my own dear dad. Fuh true. And you think you had anxiety… I went like a dumb asss to the french quarter to have dinner with a friend. Doesnt sound bad… well, guess what weekend it is…. Grambling/Southern game. ‘nuf said.
LikeLike
I can’t believe Caddo Parish isn’t a dry parish like the rest of N. La….Man Kerry, I know you have one drink a year, but that whole “experience” might have led me straight to the bar.
LikeLike
Mel, the GF was my dad’s age, thank baby Jesus. I would have had a stroke if she was my age, luckily there were plenty of doctors in the bar, so I think I would have been ok.
Jenn, for realz, if alcohol did anything for me, I would have been drinking. I did think about eating a whole cheesecake, but why should my ass suffer for my emotional distress?
It’s not a dry parish, just full of crazy ass poeple like my popz. More later.
LikeLike
Shee zam. Sounds like things went a bit off plan for you. Sorry. Know you love your pops lots but this type of sitch puts a strain on things – in this case mostly you. Other than dad and gf, had a good time? I hope so. You’ll be well rested and ready to roll when you get back home.
Mel, I hears you. I’ve been there. Not pretty. Not funny.
LikeLike
Oooo-maybe we could all get together and write a book on divorced parents worst dating stories….like the time when my dad would bring his gf to my mom’s house to pick me up for the weekend…..anyone want to throw out a title? Beth?
LikeLike
I so wish you had not had been nervous — and certainly not on our account. Will and I are the most laid-back non-judgmental people you’ll ever meet!
I understand being upset about your dad. But at least you did the good daughter thing and rolled with it.
Things were kind of crazy anyway, with Will playing and not really being able to talk. As you noticed, I had to entertain several other folks too, so it’s no biggie.
Next time, we’ll all do something where it is just us and someplace quiet. I hope you are recovering from the trip!
LikeLike