hot date

My boyfriend asks me things like this:

“Sooo…. would you be interested in playing beer pong and going to a bar with Dave and Lisa and [insert other people I don’t know] tonight?”

And I say things like:

“Um, I have to work tomorrow,

and Dave and Lisa probably are going to a bar by their place (and therefore barely accessible to us, by public transport),

and there’s laundry downstairs,

and I have homework/reading to do that simply MUST do tonight! There’s NO OTHER TIME!”

On Saturday nights, I am usually a dirty liar.

Things I Accomplished On This Average Saturday Evening:

– Rearranging (i.e. making a complete mess of) all of my books

– Updating all of the blogs-that-I-follow bookmarks

– Watching episodes of My Drunk Kitchen

– Stuffing myself silly on homemade pizza, garlic bread, salad, and Disaranno & Fancy, Local Sodas

– Browsing food blogs for tasty recipes to cook next month

But at about 9:01, my boyfriend left the apartment to catch a couple of buses and be a social beer-pong-butterfly.

At about 9:02, I turned on an episode of Mad Men and poured myself another glass of wine.

At about 9:03, my boyfriend reappeared, announcing that the trip was canceled, Dave&Lisa&co were staying in with takeout instead.

The Moral of the Story?

I did homework on a Saturday night as to not shame myself.

Lance watched a great deal of overtime hockey,

and read one of those books I left lying around.


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One Comment to “hot date”

  1. Ha ha. I’m glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t even believe myself when I declare that I’ll be doing homework on Saturday night. I guess I’d be forced to prove myself if someone was around to observe!

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