On Friday, I went to a bachelorette party.

I am WAY too old for bachelorette parties.  I decided this as I lay in bed at 1:00 p.m. on Saturday afternoon, completely unable to move lest the driving pain in my head migrate to another part of my brain with renewed agony in that delightful way that hangover headaches tend to do. 

I’ve noticed that guys LOVE to flock to bachelorette parties.  I’m not quite sure why that is, although I have a couple of theories.  The first, and most likely, is that it is pretty much guaranteed that every girl in the group is drunk.  The second, and perhaps more farfetched, is that guys assume that a bride-to-be’s single friends are so caught up in a state of jealousy of their happy friend, fear of the “always a bridesmaid” phenomenon and a competetively-based determination to show the new bride how awesome the single life is and how much she (the new bride) is giving up that they’ll pretty much go home with anything.  

I don’t know.  At any rate, our group was attracting a lot of attention, and it wasn’t long before I noticed that one guy was making a point of trying to talk to me.  He offered to buy me a beer, and I accepted – my theory being that if he wants to waste his money on a beer without finding out if I’m available or not, that’s a $5 lesson he needs to learn.  Then, one of my friends noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring and, not so subtly leaned over to point it out to me.

I confirmed the presence of the ring and asked the guy if he was married.  He said that he was, and then reiterated his offer to buy me a drink.  This time I declined, firmly, and suggested that his wife would not approve of him making that offer.  He seemed surprised that I wouldn’t accept a drink, asking me at least 3 or 4 more times if he could just buy me one drink, just one.  Each time, I declined again, telling him that I do not accept drinks from married men.  Finally, in an effort to help his situation, he leaned over and whispered that he was “just in town a couple of days” in a suggestive tone.

As if that helps.  As if I’m going to lean back over to him and whisper “well in that case, why don’t we skip the drinks and head back to my place?”  AS IF!  I cannot imagine who this guy thought he was, and the impression he must have had of me. 

Ew.  Ewwwww.   Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew. 

Needless to say, I walked away from him at that point.  If I had not done so, I very likely would have put my knee to his groin.

What the hell is wrong with people???