Saturday, October 29, 2011

Lesson In Leavin

Somebody's gonna give you a lesson in leavin'
Somebody's gonna give you back what you've been givin'
And I hope that I'm around
To watch 'em knock you down
It's like you to love 'em and leave 'em
Just like you loved me and left me

~ Jo Dee Messina

I DID IT!!! I DID IT!!! I got up and sang karaoke in front of a bar full of strangers. How's that for conquering fears? I am so proud of me!

Random hot drunk guy was right. I am stronger than I give myself credit for. Kit is going to rue the day he gave me up. I am the best thing that ever happened to him. I was the light in his life. I am a smart, sexy, confident woman whose heart was too big for him to handle. Wherever he is tonight, I hope he's sad, lonely and miserable thinking about how badly he screwed up and how much he misses me.

And just like that, the thought is over. It's not about Kit tonight. It's about me. My friends. My needs. My fun. My martinis!

People burst into applause when my song is over. Sara 1 and Sara 2 are screaming and clapping and I feel like a rock star. I have overcome something so scary that suddenly seems so simple. I can do this. I can do anything I set my mind to. I miss Kit in ways that I don't even want to acknowledge right now. But I can and will get by without him.

Not to quote the song or anything, but I Will Survive.

Safely back on my bar stool with a drink in my hand, my breath is still heavy and my heart is still racing. I have what can only be called a "shit-eating grin" on my face and the adrenaline mixed with alcohol makes me feel invincible. Perhaps this is a deadly combination. Perhaps it's exactly what I need: A little bad ass behavior to shake this good girl up!

I pick up my phone for the obligatory facebook status update when a tall, thin, much older man approaches me and slyly says "When you're done on your phone, sweetheart, we should go outside. You, me, my truck. I got pot. Know what I mean?" OMG. Please be kidding.

Me: Oh... yeah... wow... no, I'm good right here. Thanks anyway.

Old Dude: Naw, baby, you ain't hearing me. I got pot. Right?

Me: Yeah, no, I heard you. Thanks but that's not really my deal.

Old Dude: Baby, you don't have to worry about a thing. I ain't a singer. I'm a dancin man! Dig?

Old Dude then proceeds to bust out the absolute worst moves I've ever seen on the dance floor. Seriously, I was concerned for the patrons around him. Firstly, he had to have been in his 70's. Maybe 50's or 60's depending how many drugs he'd actually done in his life which by my calculation was a lot. Secondly, he had zero rhythm and almost fell over three times in his attempts to impress me with his style. Which might have been ok...you know...if he had style.

Old Dude: See princess? I told you, I'm a dancer not a singer so you's got nothin to worry bout. I'ma open my own dance studio and teach people everythin I know. But you baby, you get the first lesson for free.

Me: Again, really, thanks, but I don't really want a lesson from you. In anything. At all. Ever.

Old Dude: Ok, sweet thang, ok, I feel you. How bout just the pot then?

I am shaking my head, speechless, while the Sara's laugh at me getting hit on by the only stoned geriatric in the bar when a young, very cute guy walks over. I'd been captivated by his karaoke version of the Black Crows earlier in the night, actually putting down both my phone and my drink to listen to his incredible smooth and sexy voice. In this world, there are boys, guys, and men. This? Was a man.

You can imagine the look of surprise on my face when gorgeous singer man comes up behind my bar stool, drapes his arm around my shoulders and says "Hey baby, sorry it took me so long to get that drink." Then he nods at Old Dude and says "Hey man, I'm Rob."

Old Dude: Hey, brotha, what's shakin? Nice singin back there. Yeah, I'm not a singer. I'm a dancin man. Was just telling the lady here. So, uh...this your lady?

Man: Yeah, we're kind of a thing, you know what I mean?

Old Dude: I feel you, I feel you. I's just trying to get some tail. Can't blame a brother for trying though?

Man: No worries, bro. Just know that she's already going home with me.

Old Dude: You're a lucky man, you're a lucky man. See you later, sweet thing.

With this, he turns to the Sara's and says "Hey ladies, I got pot." They burst into hysterics and Sara 1 replies "Does that line actually work?" Old Dude gets all smug and leans into her with a secretive "You tell me..."

The girls are in stitches laughing at Old Dude and wind up dancing ridiculously with him to some awful karaoke song, leaving Rob and me alone at the bar. As I turn to get a better look at him, I'm kind of awe-struck by his features. To start with, I firmly believe that bald is the new black. I don't know what is so incredibly sexy about a man with a shaved head but I am unapologetically excited by it! If that's not enough, he's got those strong, muscular arms every woman wants around her waist, making her feel small and protected and safe. His eyes are intense, his smile is genuine, and I am instantly at ease.

Me: Thanks for the rescue.

Rob: No problem. Old Dude was kinda creeping me out too.

Me: He was just trying to get some tail.

Rob: Aren't we all?

This sends me into fits of giggles. Rob is more than gorgeous. He's sweet, funny, and insanely easy to talk to.

Rob: So this is your first time doing karaoke?

Me: Yup. How did you know that?

Rob: The DJ announced it when you were done with your song. I'm excited for you. It's always fun to watch a virgin.

Me: (((Blushes)))

Rob: A, uh, you know, karaoke virgin. (((Blushes)))

Me: It was fun. Scary. Terrifying actually. But I'm glad I did it.

Rob: Scary? Really? You don't seem like a girl who's scared of anything. I saw you dancing up there. That was sexy.

Me: Sexy? Me?

Rob: Hell yeah! Confidence is sexy. You've got some moves, girl. I saw you getting your groove on with your friend. Looked like you were having a blast.

Me: Wow. (((Blushes really hard.)))

Rob: Whoever that guy was that broke your heart, he's an asshole. Clearly didn't deserve you.

Me: Thanks.

Rob: It was actually really fun to watch you up there. You have this light about you. If your friend didn't announce you'd just gotten cheated on, I'd never have guessed in a million years you had a broken heart.

Me: Sadly, I do.

Rob: I know you do. But it doesn't show. The only thing I saw was your smile.

Me: My smile, huh?

Rob: Ok, your smile and maybe your butt. I'm still a guy!

Me: Tell me your broken heart story in sixty seconds or less?

Rob: Wow, alright, let's see. Together for ten years, married for five, two beautiful daughters. She's the best mother to our children but we're not really marriage material anymore. Not in love, not really good together. I'm on the road a lot, traveling for work, she hated it. I quit my job, head back to Kentucky and I'm only two hours away after a twelve hour drive and she calls and says she's serving me with divorce papers. Turned back around, hit the road, and that's how I ended up singing karaoke in a dive bar in Rhode Island on a Wednesday night.

Me: Wow, that sucks. I'm so sorry.

Rob: Your turn. Heartbreak story in sixty seconds or less. Go!

Me: Married at twenty. Divorced at twenty-eight. Met someone six months ago I absolutely fell in love with. Moved in together. Picked a wedding date. He was going behind my back with some ugly girl online the entire time we were dating. From our first date to the first time we slept together to sharing a bed every single night, all the while saying I love you to this fat chick and I never suspected a thing. Kicked him out five days ago and came up here to cry on Sara's couch until the pain subsides. That's how I ended up singing sad country karaoke and getting drunk mid-week.

Rob: What a jack ass! And you, my lady, are not nearly drunk enough. We need shots.

Four shots of cake batter vodka later, Sara 1 and I perform a heartfelt rendition of the Dixie Chick's "Earl Had to Die!"

Rob sings a beautiful Garth Brooks ballad as on point as the superstar himself.

Finally, Sara 1 and Sara 2 close down the bar with Wilson Phillips' "Hold On" - also known as the awesome theme song from our favorite film, Bridesmaids.

Tonight was amazing. I cannot express in words how grateful I am to the girls for the rockin night out! I didn't even know how much I needed this level of free-spirited fun until I was waist deep in it. The cherry on the sundae is Rob. His flashing eyes, calming voice, and soothing arms entice me to dream of a day when I won't be sad over Kit, when I may even be ready to allow myself to fall for another man, to trust again, to love again. Rob's reassuring smile and sweet words of encouragement have captivated my heart and my imagination. I find myself drawn into him but I'm still so freshly hurt, so raw from the pain, my wounded heart still bleeding. It wouldn't be fair to either of us to start anything now. Would it???

I recall the advice I was given earlier in the night from a man who will never know just how much his wisdom affected my life: Sometimes, you just have to smile and say Fuck It!!!

2 comments: