Well, once I got a taste of the girls weekend out type of adventure with my sisters, I didn’t hesitate to join in the fun on an invitation to a Bachelorette overnight party in Atlantic City. I mean, who can resist an all-night adventure with some of your best girlfriends in a place like that?
It started out with an interesting car ride of stops and starts and traffic and anxiousness to just get there. We were ready to check-in, get something to eat and get our party on. We quickly
freshened up and then met up with our darling bachelorette and crew in a kickass suite where we began the pictures, laughs and drinks. We then headed down to one bar that had amazing martini concoctions, and a dance floor that called our name.
Of course, that led to some bar hopping and other dancing, and some chance encounters.
I’ll never forget this one guy we met down there: “MJ.” Well, even if I wanted to forget, my girlfriends still to this day love to remind me about him. Being new to the dating and social scene again, I liked the attention of being the only blonde in the entire group, and used that to my advantage. Now somewhere throughout the course of the evening, I had this notion that it would be a good idea to hook-up with this guy in the hallway near our rooms. My one girlfriend—sober, clever and up $1200 from a slot machine encounter—went to bed and threatened my life (in a sense) if I even thought about bringing him back up to our shared room.
Well, even with a few drinks in me, I knew enough to respect my friend, and second guess what I was doing. Luckily, I didn’t have the opportunity to show poor judgment, because this guy’s group of friends were about to leave on a bus, and although torn between me and a bus ride home, he opted to not be stranded. Of course, that didn’t set too well with me, and I felt rejected.
Oh alcohol, you vicious self-esteem killer.
So there I was, in a hotel not knowing honestly where the hell I was—and worse—where the hell any of my friends were. Tears streaming down my face, I thought it might be a good idea to try to find them. Down I went to the main scene, determined to find someone—anyone—that I knew. That’s when I pulled out my phone—at 1am—and pressed the name to call the friend I wanted to find, only to have one of my bosses pick up the phone and ask “Who the hell is this?”
Yeah, that happened.
My finger slipped, and her name was right next to my friend’s name. So I quickly hung up, went into a bit of domino-like hysterics over calling my boss and thinking I was going to be fired, being “rejected” by MJ, and not knowing where my friends were. Thankfully, I found one and she happily guided me to the others, as she humored my drunk ass and got me to finally stop crying. Whew! (Oh and by the way, I did confess to my boss that Monday that it was me who had accidentally called her, and she ended up laughing hysterically about it.)
When I caught up with my friends, they were hanging out with a co-worker who just happened to be down there at the same time with his friends, and they were gambling for a little bit. We stayed there for a while, but then we had the urge to do some more dancing, and wound up at this really fun Cuban club, where we closed out the bar, and the night, in the wee hours of the morning before we hit the sheets.
Now, why in the world is she revealing all of this to us, you might think.
Well, my friends, it’s not a story that was kept private, so why not share? I’m certainly not allowed to forget it! I mean, I guess it didn’t pan out with that guy because I wasn’t actually on the bus, otherwise, given my transportation history, the story might have turned out much differently. But I have to say that
even with the messed up hookup, some additional drama and fighting amongst this diverse group of girls (I plead guilty to cattiness) and getting a wee bit lost while calling my boss afterhours, it was a really great night of girl bonding.
We laughed, we danced and really connected. It was the first time in a really long time, aside from the weekend with my sisters, where I truly felt the spirit of friendship. After cooping myself up for so long, going into depression, and pulling away from these very same girls I was celebrating with, I realized the power of friendship.
No matter what happens in your life, you can always go back home, where the people who truly love you for who you are, are willing to wait for you to find yourself, and welcome you back with open arms—and with photos of you hugging a man you thought was an “8” who was anything but.
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