I don’t know what it is about Fridays – well, specifically Friday evenings. For some reason, to me Fridays means celebrating. I feel like I should go out on Fridays after work – or when work would end, had I a “real” job. Friday means happy hour, date night, cocktails or dinner or meeting friends. It’s the night you celebrate the end of the work week and the arrival of the weekend.
Unfortunately, I rarely go out on Fridays – hell, I rarely go out any night, for that matter. I play wine wench at Tim’s Wine Market from 5-7pm on Fridays, where I pour wine at their weekly wine tasting. It’s usually a fun, party-like atmosphere. Sometimes there’s live music, chair massages, or art showings, but always there’s good wine and fun people. So that helps. But come 7pm, everyone else heads out to dinner, and I go – home. Alone. Yes, I could go out by myself, but that’s just not something that I do. So I head home, feeling like I’ve been sent to bed early, without my supper.
Except last night, because I had a date with a new girlfriend, Cat, and her friend Debbie. Cat’s a member of the book club I’ve recently started attending, which is a group of fun women who meet once a month to drink wine and discuss books (yet another of my attempts to put down roots in StA, joining groups!). Since Cat’s single and I’m single, we decided we should go out sometime, and chose tonight (she let me pick the night, and since it was Friday, it seemed like the perfect choice). We agreed to meet at the Tini Martini Bar, one of the few places I HAVE been in town (no, not alone), and really like. In another life, I’m a bartender there…
It was an interesting evening. We sat at the bar with our martinis and were entertained by Aaron, a soon-to-be groom, and his best man, Blake. Blake was hosting a two-man bachelor party for his best bud, and we soon became part of the party. Blake apparently had a list of tasks for Aaron to complete, in order to earn drinks. It started with Aaron dancing on a bar stool (he was too tall to dance on the bar), and progressed to a banana-eating contest. Which turned into a conversation about the size of Aaron’s – banana. He tried to tell us the story of how he and his future wife met and fell in love, but my cynical friends were stuck on that banana. Eventually I tired of the conversation, and decided to call it a night. Not that I’m adverse to – bananas – but have no desire to discuss the merits and drawbacks of oversized ones. So I bid my friends farewell, as they moved on to the next bar – and I went home. Alone. Again.
Hopefully we helped Aaron have a stellar bachelor party – I ordered him a glass of water, so I feel as though I did my part to help him remember the evening. And it was fun going out for a change, and spending time with new friends. I’ll do it again, and hopefully we’ll have a fruitless evening next time.
But the evening ended as they always do, with me at home, alone. Friends tell me my Friday night image is an illusion: that most folks are home. It’s just that they’re not home alone. Were I at home with a special guy, I’m sure it would be just fine. But there’s just something anticlimactic and melancholy about spending Friday night alone.
Next week will be much better – Jimmy and the boys are playing, so I’ll be spending Friday evening with my favorite guys. I can’t wait! The perfect way to spend a Friday. It almost made this Friday tolerable, knowing that the next one is going to be great. In fact, I might even bring my new girlfriends. I’ll just have to make them swear not to ask about the size of the boys’ bananas…
Anyway, I hope your Friday was everything you wanted it to be. I hope Aaron’s was everything he wanted it to me. I hope he remembers it.
And one of these days soon, I need to figure out how to make Fridays a lot more satisfying. You think the band might agree to play every Friday somewhere, just for me?