I had been drinking heavily at a friend's house. She had been hosting a White Trash party, so OF COURSE I showed up looking the part, with 40's in tote. Before I knew it, I was being driven home. I knew I didn't want the night to end. Having a sleeping sixteen month old waiting for me at home, I rarely had the opportunity to go out and let loose. As the car door shut in front of my building, I heard voices. There were people having a party...about fifty feet from my front door (SCORE).
I tip toed over and casually introduced my drunk self. See, back in the day, I used to do this kind of thing all of the time. I thrived on being random. However, since becoming a single mom, I was forced to live a responsible life of schedule. The opportunity to be spontaneous this particular night was not evaded in the least. After establishing myself with the small gathering of people, I returned to my house to relieve the babysitter (not mentioning the people I had waiting for me to come back...). The moment the babysitter vacated, I tip toed back across my front yard to my new friends. I didn't feel TOO guilty because:
- I was intoxicated.
- I was at MOST 100 feet away from my apartment, and baby boy had been sleeping through the night regularly.
- I was intoxicated.
- I didn't plan on staying out long..just long enough to have fun, random interactions with complete strangers.
We had fairly good chemistry between the two of us. I don't think we ever ran out of things to talk about. Sure, there were moments of silence...but it was a good silence. A comforting silence. I informed him I had a sleeping child inside, and that it wasn't right for me to be so far away from him..he obliged, and we made our way to a swing that sits next to my building, ten feet from baby boy's window (which was wide open since it was the middle of summer).
The two of us sat swinging, side by side, looking up at the dark starry sky. Eventually, we made our way inside of my place. The night ended with a fun, dirty romp session as the sun was about to rise. He took my number, but I knew I wouldn't hear from him again. He was only here visiting family, and was returning to California.
For a few months, there were butterflies in my stomach every time I stepped foot outside my building. I could see the steps of where the party was hosted. It never failed to bring back the memories of the fun drunk and random night that I met him. The butterflies eventually faded. I would go onto remember the night, but as time passed I began to view that night as just a mark in my past, shaking my head and thinking to myself how "young and silly I was back then..."