Grab a phone book and look up the address for Party Place

Oh, what the hell. It's only seven o'clock now. Feed the kids, ring up your sis and you're out the door by eight forty-five, tops, right? This day has been far too long, and far too obnoxious. Rooooooxaaaannnne. Argh! It's about time you did something fun, something random, something a little... wild.

Briefly overcome by nostalgia, you remember the days when you used to do this kind of the thing all the time. Walk into a strange bar, meet interesting people, get hammered and end up at a strip club with a bunch of sailors. Hang out with friends of friends who would end up taking you to djembe jam sessions. How long ago was that? Pre-kids, pre-hubby, that's for damn sure.

Yeah, this is going to be good. You call your sister. She, at least, still knows how to party.

"Deanna? Hey, it's Tara, " you say in a slightly quavering voice.

"Sup sis?" she trills. "You sound like you've been hitting the Starbucks a little hard." Sigh. Is she ever less than in perfectly soaring spirits?

"Oh, no I'm fine, just a little. Ergh." You pause, gathering your thoughts. "I'm fine, just need to get out of the house, you know? I was thinking we could go out tonight. How does karaoke sound?"

"Oooooh I love karaoke! I'm so bad I'm good, I'm telling you. Think they'll record it for us? Ohmygawd, that would be kickass!" Again, she's cheerfully chirruping into the phone. But this time, you find it just a little... infectious.

"That would be something else!" you say. "I'll pick you up at 9!" You find yourself sounding happier than you have in a while. Well, it's better than that nagging mom-tone you seem to find yourself using more than you would like to these days.

You hang up, and finish work on dinner.

The End

1 comment about this story Feed