Kissing a Fool..or a Fool for Trying?

Once upon a time, about 5 years ago, I'd listen to this song as I was getting ready to go out. I'd strap on my highest heels, and my friend Celeste and I would put on our game face (AKA man-hunting face) and head out, wherever. It didn't have to be a club or a bar, we could even be going for dinner, but we always looked our best because we were...on the hunt, I guess. It was never hard to find guys to flirt with, maybe even meet one that was worthy of deeming "a potential". This was around the time I graduated from UTEP, I myself worked in a bar (a gay bar, albeit) and I had dodged one engagement and had not yet met Noe, my self-admitted, alcoholic ex. This was when life was simple, I guess. So my task tonight seemed simple enough: find a stranger and kiss him. I haven't done anything like that since....I was 21, maybe? 23 if I really stretch it? I wanted it to be the last stupid hurrah of my 20's so I could say I did it. But the reality is, I'm not the same girl I was when I was 21, or even 23, or even 5 years ago. Now the person that I am is one who works. And studies. One who goes to sleep gratefully at 11, and wakes up early, and does not even consider kissing strange men. Being in a bar is probably the last place you will ever find me.

So as my brave friend Robert and I set out on Friday, I didn't know what to expect. My friend Robert is a noble soul. He was like, "Shouldn't you be doing this with...uhhhh...other chicks? Do you want me to act like your gay sidekick?" LOL. I told him it was fine to act like himself. We ended up at Alehouse, where we sat at the bar, and he had a few beers and I had one Malibu and cranberry. The bar was filled with rude GIs who insisted on leaning in to me like we were friends, and 25 years olds out hunting like I did a few years back. I didn't see one single person that even remotely appealed to me, and surprising, I was gripped with fear at the idea of approaching someone. I am not as cute as I was 5 years ago, not even nearly as thin, nor am I out to have a few fun drinks at the bar; I was on a mission.

A mission that failed miserably. I did not kiss anyone, but the truth is...I really didn't want to be there. I was happy that I was in good company with my friend Robert, who never fails to entertain me with his "El Coash" stories and as we navel-gaze together and talk about relationships...but our time would have been good anywhere. The more we were there, the more I realized that I hate bars and I hate what they represent. In my past I've had too many people I care about fall prey to alcoholism; one fiance, one serious boyfriend, and an aunt I love very much. While other people go to bars for fun...I'm just not like that. Maybe its dramatic of me, but a lot has changed for me in 5 years; many outlooks on life. What I learned today is that going out for drinks with co-workers on Fridays is something I can do. We stay an hour, re-cap the week, and go on about our lives. Going to a bar once in awhile with friends can be ok. But the lifestyle I used to lead, hanging out in bars all the time is not for me, and probably never will be again. Is this what you call growing up? My Mom has friends that still booze it up in bars all the time like they're still 21. To each their own, I guess. I'm not married, and I don't have kids...so I haven't yet had any real "You're an Adult now"type moments. Maybe it took this for me to realize it.

I guess what today served as was as another way of showing me that while change is rapid; it's subtle. It happens so quickly that we don't even notice. I thought I was still capable of acting like the same carefree girl I once was, but I'm not. I know better now. A casualty of that change is a friendship I had with Celeste, who I mentioned earlier. I guess when one person moves on to a different lifestyle, its hard to stay friends. Sometimes I'm sorry for it, but I also know that I can't keep up with that lifestyle anymore, nor do I want to. Does this make me lame as hell? Maybe. Does this mean I'll permanently trade in my heels and Pharrell? No, but I'll be bootyshaking in my car and while blow-drying my hair more than anywhere else. Lame? Maybe, but I'm ok with that. And you know what? I can bet my life that even if I was still as cute and thin as I was, I'd still feel the same. Sadly, the person I kiss most is my dog, Serena. She gets rained with kisses all over her ears when I get home everyday. This will not always be true (I hope, LOL). But I know that when I finally do meet a handsome stranger I want to kiss, chances are, it will not be in a bar. And for sure, I will never again be the girl that goes looking for him in one.