I suppose there isn't a better way to start the New Year than by posting a new blog about the New Year. Or, New Year's Eve specifically.
The evening began rather innocuously. We had been invited to a kid friendly New Years Eve party so, around 5:00, we made our way over with kiddos in tow. About 15 minutes after arriving I was regretting that decision as at least half a dozen children ran screaming through the house. Luckily, our hostess was on top of things and dinner was served very shortly thereafter which brought immediate silence. A second luckily was that the house was stocked to the gills with alcohol so those who weren't DD could silence the children in their minds. What? Yeah, I said it was a kid friendly New Years Eve party. In our group that means at 8:00 the kids get to ring in the New Year then go to bed while the adults continue to have fun.
With that being said, we opted for taking the girls home rather than staying through to midnight to avoid being on the roads with crazies and to avoid trying to get the girls to sleep in a strange house only to wake them a few hours later.
So, by 9:30 our girls were in their "own" beds (technically we've been staying at my in-laws for the last two weeks) and Marcus and I were hanging out when his parents came in from their own New Years Eve festivities which entailed the local town's celebration aimed towards families. On a whim (perhaps a slightly drunken one) I convinced Marcus to take the passes his parent's purchased and go check it out because I, in the 20+ years living in this town, have never made it to the local celebration. Grudgingly, Marcus agreed. I think he had already been once before so knew the disappointment that lay ahead.
Needless to say, without saying a word (is that redundant?), Marcus was right and after about half an hour we decided to go home and made our way back to the car. Marcus thought it would be fun to see how the other half lives (i.e. those who were partying hard at the local bars) and we took the long way to the car passing bars as we went. As we passed one place in particular we saw a friend of ours serving and decided to pay him a visit despite the fact it was packed. What we failed to notice was the place was packed with cougars and it wasn't until we had drinks in hand and a place to sit that we took a good look around and realized we were greatly outnumbered.
There is nothing more exhilarating than seeing a pack of cougars in action. One group of ladies in particular really caught our eye and we watched them with great interest. All were dressed for an occasion far fancier than a New Years Eve celebration at a local bar/Italian restaurant. In truth, they all looked fabulous but I suppose that's what sets a cougar apart from others. They all sipped their drinks as they shimmied but only slightly for fear of losing their spot at the bar. As I leaned-in to give our bartender friend a kiss over the bar I felt all eyes on me, probably trying to ascertain who the poorly dressed ruffian was moving in on their territory (in truth, I was dressed to be outside not in a bar competing for man flesh). I think they quickly wrote me off when our friend gave Marcus (in his well worn Virginia Tech hoodie) a jovial handshake and realized I was not a threat as I was there with an equally poorly dressed partner. Later I regretted not sending Marcus into the fray to see what constitutes cougar prey. Next time.
As the midnight hour struck Marcus and I gave each other a quick kiss then turned our attention to more important matters like how the cougars had somehow found the youngest guys in the bar to suck face with. They were questionably making out with the busboys but my judgment was skewed by this point in time and really, the idea of these well-dressed 40 something's sucking face with busboys is way more entertaining than what I'm sure is the truth.
Suffice to say, these poorly dressed, parents of two toddlers decided that midnight was late enough and we eventually made our way to the car and home. I learned a lot that night. One: Cougars get what they want. Two: Despite the fact I wasn't dressed like a Robert Palmer chick I apparently still have the ability to make others uncomfortable with my awesome presence. Then Marcus comes along and ruins it.
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