My daughter started her new job last night as a server at a local bar and grill. It is not what I would want for her, but it is a choice she has made for herself. Therefore, I feel the need to support her. More than that, I feel the need to check up on her.
So, I decided to crash opening night last night. She knew exactly what I wanted to do, and why. That's just how we roll. I don't pull punches with my kids. They know where I stand; I know where they stand. A beautiful, symbiotic relationship.
Well, at least it works for us.
I showed up at about 8p to a packed house ~ 80% male. Standing room only. I made my way to the end of the bar, exactly what I told her I would do.
I had no expectations and, honestly, in that atmosphere I imagined I would be simply a shadow. And, I was OK with that. I do not consider myself very social, particularly with people I don't know. Most often, I just like to watch people...and that is what I was prepared to do.
No seats at the bar, unfortunately, so to order my beer I had to wedge myself in between 2 guys. A smile and some conversation achieved that just fine. Within 5 minutes of talking with the guys to my right, one of them was offering me his seat.
Hhmmmmm.....he was just being chivalrous. Probably already under the influence. Shortly after that, within about 5 more minutes, the 3 of us had exchanged names and were discussing...well, the topic didn't really matter.
Within 5 more minutes, I knew where they are from, what they do for a living, where they live. Only a baby step from that to discussing travel, excercise, football, the death of Willie Nelson and its impact on the economy of Texas....
....stuff like that. Then, one of the guys left, my daughter came by and said 'Hi', the other guy went to the bathroom.
What did I do? I turned to the 2 guys on the left with whom I had briefly chatted up when I first sat down. This guy, seeing me order my Sam Adams, tried to convince me (while he was drinking his free Miller Lite...eeewwwww) that the Sam Adams Summer Ale is the best. OK? I proceeded to go through 20 questions to figure out how he could be drinking Miller Lite and be a beer connisseur. It just did not make sense to me.
Of course, his "friend" piped in and before I knew it the 3 of us were bantering away about new babies, teenage kids, and the fact that they had been drinking the free Miller Lite and were on about 7, no 8....
We spent an inordinate amount time trying to guess each other's ages. They were way off on guessing mine, fortunately in the right direction, until they asked my daughter. My daughter is proud of the fact that I look so young but I hate that she gave it away. I would much prefer they continue in the dark with that one.
You get the picture. More guys joined them. The guys at one of my daughter's tables bought me a Sex on the Beach shot and queried me about advice on girls and growing up. They wanted a quick, short, all-encompassing quote from me.
I disappointed them when I said such an animal does not exist....believe me. Moreover, nothing I say or write is ever "quick" and "short".
The landscape changed when my friend showed up. The Miller Lite guy wanted to know almost immediately whether or not he was my husband, boyfriend. WTH? He had a hard time believing me when we both chimed in NO, just friends. And it is his business how?
I guess the answer to whether I still have it, whatever it is, is yes. I can still play the social butterfly in those circumstances. I can still be marginally attractive to the opposite sex. I can still be the recipient of free drinks. I can still have fun.
But, I couldn't help thinking of myself as a stale piece of candy amid a swarm of bugs. I was nothing special in that environment. There were so many of them, and so few sweet things to land on. It was simply a lack of viable options.
Add the alcohol to the mix. Add the question of why are those guys at that bar, how often do they do this, etc. Probably not the type of attention I want.
This will not stop me from checking up on my daughter. In the process, I will end up honing my skills; skills which might get me somewhere, at some point, with a man who will be worth my effort and view me as his choice instead of a result of lack of options or, worse yet, just a plaything.
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