With our ability to pick fun, creative (read: FLAKEY) babysitters, paired with the Mr’s working All The Freakin Time, Date night is an elusive beast. Usually we are content to sit on the couch drinking an evening cocktail, looking into each others eyes and saying…
It’s your turn to put him back in bed.
So when a friends college age daughter was in town and offered to babysit, we jumped at the chance like a BlogHer attendee on a swag bag.
We decided we would go out in our fairly undiscovered ‘burbs. Sure we know where all the parks are, and the public pools, libraries and the grocery stores. But we don’t know the location of the really important things.
Like where to find a good stiff drink.
So forgetting that we no longer live in The Big City, we dressed up all fancy and headed out into the
night, err, afternoon.
5pm. That’s when all the cool kids start their nights, right?
Mr in a suit and jacket, me all 1952 in a clingy pencil skirt dress made of super sexy slip material and sky high black stilettos head out to the local strip mall for happy hour. The dress was way too clingy for panties and it being date night and all… and us going to a movie and all… oh yeah.
We walk into Happy Hour and belly up the the bar smiling back at the gappin’ maws in tshirts and flip flops staring at us. We have a cocktail and an appetizer and start getting re-aquainted.
Turns out I still like him.
About 6pm, we stumble out into the sun and down to the giant multiplex down the street where we stand in line with kids half our age wearing half as much clothing. We are hoping to finally see The Avengers. They, I’m fairly certain, are going to see Katy Perry in 3D, and not for the first time. Finally to the window we ask the gum smacking 15 year old behind the counter for 2 tickets to the Avengers please!
“Um. That’s like totally not in theaters anymore.”
I’m pretty sure she finished with “you weirdo oldies, what do you think this is, like, May?” under her breath.
The Mr whips out his iPhone to look for other options and I run into the theater to pee.
And find out that I have started my period. Several days early. And I’m not wearing any underwear. No bikini’s to shove a wad of toilet paper in, no thong to do the toilet paper wrap. And the machine only has pads left.
I’m wearing something that is almost shear. I have one back-up tampon in my purse. But it’s one of those teeny tiny little ones that would be great for the last day or two. NOT for the first day. And certainly not for 5 hours, because yes, we have a sitter until 11 and goddamn it, this date night is going to 11.
Back to the wall, I head back out to the Mr, who has found a small theater that is showing Moonrise Kingdom and if we hurry, we may even have time to grab popcorn before it starts. And, I can sneak into the bathroom and buy a better tampon and… Date Night Saved!
Or is it.
We purchase tickets on line this time. The 2 bucks a ticket is well worth knowing that the movie really is showing and, you know, what if there is a line, because it is Friday night and things could be getting crazy over there.
We pull up in front of the small town two-plex and park in front. Right in front. We walk in the front door giggling, greeted by flickering florescent lights and four, obviously LONG time employees.
The six of us are the only people in the theater.
I’m thinking we could have saved that 2 bucks a ticket.
They stare and I’m really not certain if it’s because we are dressed funny, or that they are just plum surprised to have actual people in their theater, dressed or not. Then we tell them that we bought tickets on line and I’m pretty sure they all snickered.
And not under their breathe.
Then they searched my purse. Because. You know. That thing in Colorado.
Haha! Nothing in there any more dangerous then Silly Putty.
Suddenly things get tense. Well. Just don’t get it on the carpet.
AND HE WAS SERIOUS!
I’m dressed up all pretty and trying not to drip menstrual blood down my thighs and just got told not to get Silly Putty on the carpet.
This is totally not the date night I had envisioned.
I pinky swear to keep my putty in my purse and run to the women’s room where they have a full on convenience station attached to the wall, ala 1992. You can buy everything your little date night heart desires. Cherry flavored lip gloss, breathe freshener, tree shaped AIR freshener, Mother Fucking Sour Candy… and OB tampons. If this was indeed 1992. Because here, in 2012, OB tampons are crossed off and the little hole to put money in, is plugged.
Unlike, you know, my hole.
So I enjoy the movie atop a pile of paper napkins and the Mr promises to take me for a fancy cocktail afterwards at the fancy steak place down the street and I’m CERTAIN they will have supplies there.
And I know what you are thinking. At this point, what does this bitch not just stop at the local corner store and BUY some tampons. Certainly, she can afford to throw away 2 bucks on a convenience fee for a movie, she can blow the couple bucks to save herself walking with her legs clamped together and doing the worlds longest kegel in.
That would have been a great idea. Seriously. But in my brain, I just new that I could get to the women’s room at the fancy steak place and that they would have one and I would be fine, then I could go home and use the products I know and
love … tolerate. We’d been to that bar once before and I remembered it being the kind of place that had basically a buffet of women’s products in the bathroom.
Makes up for the fact that their $40 steak is totally NOT worth it. No?
This, unfortunately, is the buffet I was greeted with.
Mr and I like to talk about what OUR bar would be like. All the fancy cocktails we would serve. What the menu would look like. Wether we would attach a record store or a mani/pedi/shoe boutique combo to it. What theme nights we would have. How to keep people we don’t know out. How to swing the Free Babysitter During Happy Hour thing, both financially and legally.
I’m now going to have to insist that there also be free tampons in the bathrooms.
Any date night disasters in your past? And idea how to make that Free Babysitter During Happy Hour thing work? I would WAY rather have a free baby sitter then some free nachos.
And yes. I use the cup. And yes. I now have one in my wallet snuggled in where I used to keep a condom. Same ring … just now it looks like I’m a size queen.
PS. I am.