Shirt: H&M, Tie: F21, Pants: Barney's Co-Op, Shoes: Kenneth Cole, Leather Blazer: Dirty English
Ah, this here's a special Valentine's Day/Issa Birthday update! This is what I wore when we went out on Friday for her birthday- dressed it up a bit because in the 10+ years I've known her, she likes when all her friends are all fancy (all our guy friends generally wear converse and t-shirts, so this like never happens).
In honor of the special occasion, let's talk more about myself. Specifically, my weekend. Issa who?
In life, a good wingman is truly hard to find, and most often in the most unexpected places. You have supposedly reliable wingmen like my friend D, who ended up retreating back to base immediately while pretending to be on board with the squad. Then you have trusty wingmen like Phong, eager to go on any mission and- the time D ran away- took on two bogeys at once, proving to be twice the squadmate D was. Then you have moles like Peter, who, rather than jumping in the line of fire, proceeded to push me towards and egg on the aggressive 40+ year old woman at the bar who grabbed me by the wrist by telling her that yes, I was interested (much to my sheer horror and his own amusement). And then you have wingwomen, who are supposedly the best types of members to have on your squad.
Now, before you think I'm some sort of misogynistic rapscallion, I actually don't really ever take my wingmen on missions. I think sometimes we'll just go on practice flight maneuvers and hold positions because the squad gets restless when they're grounded, but I don't really like pursuing women in clubs/bars/lounges- attempting to get to know someone while yelling over music just isn't my kind of thing.
Anyway, do you remember Transformers? Not that Michael Bay abomination, but the good ol' Transformers from the '80's. The ones with the toys where you press on the black sticker and the heat from your hand activates it to tell you if it's an autobot or a decepticon? No? I hate you.
So we were out celebrating Issa's birthday on Friday and I'm on the dance floor half-dancing with Tramanh, Issa, and our friends when Tramanh gives me a look indicating there is someone behind me. I half-glance back and out of my peripherals is indeed a woman dancing at my back. Now, the female backattack is generally rare, and I didn't know exactly how to extricate myself from the situation without causing her embarrassment because women generally never approach me- they usually just send me restraining orders. And let's face it, rejection hurts. And it takes balls (or ovaries?) to approach a guy.
And I definitely wasn't interested when I felt two pillowy mounds randomly pressing against my back to the beat of the music (but I suppose it was better than feeling a gut against my lower back). That's when I went into a light panic- I didn't want to make it too obvious or hurt her feelings if I fled over to my friends across from me, but I didn't want her grinding on me either. This is when Tramanh reveals her true colors. Once, long ago, she served as an apt wingwoman. But not tonight. She had this "huh huh huuh" grin on her face and she danced/pushed me against the pendulous breasts behind me and I realized in this exchange that tonight, Tramanh's black sticker revealed her to be a DECEPTICON*.
I was aghast and terrified that at any moment a pair of hands would wrap themselves around me, but fellow Calder House roommate Karine kindly jumped in and asked if I wanted a drink and I retreated with her to the bar.** I came back later and Tramanh informed me that the girl's guy friend had talked to Tramanh, telling her that his friend liked me. Tramanh and I analyzed this exchange later and came to conclusion that the whole setup was a reverse wingwoman scenario- set up so that he could talk to Tramanh all along. Brilliant! And then I was all DIRECTED BY M NIGHT SHYAMALAN.
*Why do I keep making 80's references- did any of you guys even watch Transformers? If you guys are even old enough, I'll bet it was like Jem or Smurfs
**I don't know how you ladies deal with aggressive guys regularly. I guess you just grow a thick skin, which you then proceed to exfoliate.
Anyway, back to the original point of this post. We celebrated Issa's birthday and I bought a confetti shooting gun to use for her birthday photo. I ended up liking the photo quite a bit so it'll probably end up in this album concept I've had in mind- I've wanted to make like a yearbook of all my friends- well, more like just an album with pictures I've taken of my good friends. Like a book of their faces. A face book, if you will. This will probably make the cut:
Happy birthday, Issa!