An evening with my one lawyer friend from Missouri.

Me and my one lawyer friend from Missouri had both had crazy hectic workweeks for over a month and hadn’t been able to hang out though we had touched bases to do that a few times, till one Friday evening when I was downtown for a talk and she was able to meet up for a couple drinks afterward, which led to us both dressing up and hitting up some (new) bars in the ritzy part of town.

It was a very lovely and very chill evening, where we just chitchatted.

For one thing, she told me about this kid from her hometown who tried very hard to fit in.  He sold Jolly Ranchers in middle school, and then in high school he sold drugs.

For another thing, she told me about how a friend of her family’s son was clerking for Clarence Thomas in D.C. when she was living there, and they had had an awkward date that ended in him purposely mixing up their credit cards post-dinner so he had an excuse to call her up and suggest they meet again for another dinner if they had to meet up anyways to get their right credit cards back.

“It was so weird!”, she was like.  “And then I told my mom he had done something weird, and she was like, ‘What, did he try to jump your bones?’”, and she imitated her mother saying that in a very curt, matter-of-fact voice.  “Then, I was so embarrassed I excused myself and ended *that* conversation!”.

After the 2^nd of 2 bars, I walked her up the block to where she was going to catch a cab, and as we were half a block up from this ritzy hotel, she gushed that she had forgotten that this was the night of an important city shelter fundraiser, where people pay $500 to attend the ball and also have to get $500 tickets to bring their dogs along.

Then, as we get closer to the hotels main doors, there’s these 2 sloshed (older) (white) women with dyed blonde hair and in black and grey sequined dresses that show some thigh, and both have a half-full glass of white wine in one hand, and a cigarette in the other, and one has a leash in her cigarette hand that leads down to a very small chihuahua in a tux.

“Oh, he is so CUTE!”, my friend said, and dove down to play with the dog, and she and the woman talked dogs for a while.

“And that’s a nice tux,” I was like.

“Isn’t it?”, the sloshed (older) (white) woman who owned him said.

“Now did you get it just for the occasion, or did you already have one for him?”, I was like.

“I already had one,” she was like.  “He wore it last year...  But you should have seen the one I lost, she had a whole closet full of gowns.”

At that point, my one lawyer friend from Missouri was getting up from playing with the chihuahua, and we went to go. 

“It’s just like with humans,” I was like.  “Men can wear the same old bullshit year after year, but women can only wear a dress once.”

“EXACTLY!”, she was like, giving a hoarse smoker’s cough as she began chuckling and me and my friend walked away.