I christen thee...

My husband and I have great fun naming our snacks before we eat them.
Yesterday we ate Paul, a lovely tasting chocolate bar.
I have been craving Herman, so today I’ll have him for a snack.

This weekend I went for beers with a friend at L’barouf. We didn’t get a big beer though. Too bad.
Then on Saturday we went out dancing at le diable vert. It’s okay there, except it’s always so packed. And hot.
The bathrooms are like a dungeon.
Wait a sec, why do I go there?
Oh yeah, to dance.
Another place for after-work beers is le divan orange. I like the atmosphere. Or at least I did the last time I was there.

I want to find a new place to go dancing. It has to have good music (not an eighties night), and cute boys. The boys are mostly for my single friends, although there’s nothing wrong with me looking.
And I don’t like places that have strict dress-codes. There’s no point in going out dancing if you have to wear heels, unless you like to wear heels.
Personally, it was more fun for me to wear heels as a kid playing dress-up. Wearing them as an adult makes me feel like I’m still playing dress-up, except noone else knows.

I didn’t drink too much this time. Yay for self-restraint.
Actually, I had everyone who was out with me make sure I was cut-off after a certain amount.
So, one side affect of being sober in a bar at 3:00am is that I got to see many guys in action, trying to make their moves.
And, it was hilarious.
One guy seemed to think that if he stood close enough to a girl, that she would turn around and take him home. Instead, she got creeped out, and walked off.
This same guy, moved onto another girl and her friend who were dancing. He started dancing behind them, but didn’t say anything. He just kept dancing closer and clsoer until he was bumping into them.
Maybe he thought that was close enough to getting lucky.
The girls just moved away from him.

I was sitting by myself for just a second, and was surrounded by guys. It was like being swarmed, except without any follow-up. They all just sort of let their presence be known.
I don’t have a traditional wedding band anyway, so it’s probably not obvious to people.
I got out of there, quick as I could though. I started to feel claustrophobic.
The end of the night pick-up hour can be intense, especially if you are an innocent bystander.

I guess it’s sort of funny that I go out for after-work beers so often. I don’t have a job. But when I did have a job, I never had time to go for beers. Go figure.