Happy Birthday To Me

I was speaking with a friend the other day, and he made a comment about my blog, basically implying that the title was misleading. The entire blog has been about my childhood, not about my life in the city. So I have decided to share with you my most recent night out on the town.

Last week I celebrated my birthday, and I decided to stay in Astoria. The number one reason being, Manhattan has too much competition. Women in New York City are gorgeous. Many times I'll go out, dressed to the nines, feeling good about myself. Only to get to my destination to find all these other women dressed to the nines, but all these other women have smaller waists and bigger breasts. Personality just doesn't seem to count for much in moments like these. Even if it did, at some point in the evening, my personality would probably become more drunk and mean than anything.

So I thought, why not stay in Astoria for my birthday? There are less people, meaning less competition, and hopefully, more attention for me. I always did have a knack for statistics. The first bar we arrived at had a total of five other people besides my party. Four of them were women, the fifth, the doorman. The second bar we hit was much more crowded, but I'm pretty sure the man who approached me had bodies buried in his backyard. Of course my roommate stated that I was being ridiculous; he probably didn't have a backyard.

The third and final bar was one where I feared for my life. It should have been a dream, seeing as my two friends and I were the only females in a bar full of men. But this was two o'clock in the morning and these boys looked hungry. A certain expression in their eyes led me to believe that my friends and I might be offered up as a sacrifice if we stuck around much more.

The night then came to a close at a diner. Comfort food is always nice after a night of drinking. As I was leaving my table, a couple was staring and laughing. I still can't figure out why,I know I didn't trip until after I got outside. Maybe my spanx were showing, or it could have been the fry that fell out of my dress upon standing. One thing is for sure, my brilliant idea for finding romance that night had failed. It looks like I better try meeting men the old fashioned way, Craigslist.