alright party people i'm back from the mountains and back online. in my week at home in the sticks still with internet and cell service surprisingly i did a lot while relaxing. i taught my parent's newly adopted dog how to swim, we saved a baby turkey but lost it when bird rescue went mia on us, i survived both a born again church service, fox news near my ears, and a crazy lady giving me dating advice at a bbq. i also had a love affair with one of chelsea handler's book and decided i needed to increase my sodium intake to 4 hot dogs a week. i was glad for the wilderness and family time but now i'm back in the city and without further ado- here is a quick write from the prompt- taking care of it.
Taking care of it. We have begun to take care of it. Lately we have. Me and my partner crime of my fellow nanny, my fellow survivor from accidents and crazy families and raising siblings and parenting parents. We take care of it. We always do. But lately we have been taking care of the bar. It is this new thing. We roll in by ourselves and we roll out with new friends, new numbers, and texts about how we will have to do it all again.
It all started a night not too long ago. Where we parked ourselves in two bar stools ordered our beers and ate our sausages. We usually just talk to one another but. But this time the ratio was in our favor, more guys per capita and most woman taken, 7 ft tall or lesbians. So score. They kept paying us visits. Round one, round two, round three, round I lost count. It seemed so easy to sit at the bar and the men came to us so easily. Taking care of it is what we do during the day. During our day job. And sometimes in our respective families. But now we were taking care of it. Taking care of it. We are running our own show of fun. Our own show of laughter and touches and chugging and standing still and talking of something and nothing and laughing. Always laughing.
So the other night, the other night at the bar on her birthday we took care of it once again. I wasn’t sure if her growing definition of a boyfriend would cock block our party of male attention. No he didn’t. We befriended our pool mates. By screaming loudly and inappropriately in the bar. Woooooo! They started to join in before long. After each play or shot in the wooo hoo! Loud obnoxious inappropriate but people are smiling including the rugged, the reggae, the women, and the men. Breaking the rules so much fun. Taking care of running the table. Running the bar. I like this game. Shaking of the hips and point our fingers up to dance. I yell whose your mama to a guy I don’t know who was just on jeopardy. Everyone is rolling. Next we shake our asses next to the balls to make sure they don’t win. Don’t score. We aren’t even drunk. We just are taking care of it. Taking care of the fun. They let lose too. Shaking their asses and other downstairs movements. Whose your uncle? Jeopardy guy yells. Laughing again.
Somewhere between the hooting and hollering and saying random things we are all friends. One guy is a psychiatrist at san quentin. He tells me I talk to a lot of girls but you seem to know more than most. Thanks I think I will be here all week tip your waitresses. What a sad state of affairs than a shrink can’t find a smart woman to date. But how fun it is to take care of it in this night and make friends with shrinks at san quentin and guys who wins things on jeopardy. By taking care of it and just being fools is how you really do it. By being the loud one, by saying watch your privates or vagina when the pool stick gets too close. It usually is darker and i am not in a bar and I have had more to drink- when jeopardy guy gets too close to my world of my vagina with the pool stick feet away but too close for comfort. Watch your vagina becomes the new tag line of this round of pool. Taking care of it. Is just taking care, care in it. In it. Even if it seems stupid or ridiculous or childish. Taking care of it is playing pool with strangers who become your friends, friends for the night.
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