Not a target-rich environment

There's nothing like going to a hip, happening bar on a Saturday night and realizing that there is not a single person in the entire room that you're interested in talking to.

But thank god for Texas.

I'll repeat that because I don't expect to ever say that again in my lifetime.

Thank god for Texas.

Last night at Jury's, M and I sat next to a tableful of Southwestern police officers in town for a convention. One of them, a gregarious, friendly type from Texas, adopted us for the evening and bought us drinks. After showing us pictures of his wife and three daughters (and telling us that his wife is a hot piece of ass; he occasionally tells his daughters to go out and get laid because it's good for them), he sat with us and scoped out the crowd.

"What is wrong with these boys that they won't come up and talk to a couple of beautiful women such as yourselves?" he wanted to know. "Men these days need to remember their job in life, which is to take care of the women in their life. Or at least the women in the room."

M sort of liked a bald guy sitting in the corner until she realized that what she'd thought was a shadow on his neck was actually the lower half of a beard that the guy had carefully cultivated. Except that it made him look as if he'd grown a bush on his neck. Disgusting and hysterical at the same time.

Given the preponderance of hair gel, attitude, cologne and bad clothing in the room, the only guy I was even vaguely interested in was one of the waiters, who was very cute and very well mannered. The Texan guy thought this was great. "Want me to get him over here, hon?" he kept asking. A gallant offer, but brute force has never been my flirting method of choice.

Before the bar, I went out for handbags and sushi with 10 or so friends to celebrate my 30th birthday. The handbags were at a little boutique on Mass Ave that lets you design your own bag and then they sew it for you. The sushi was at a great place up the street that had private rooms where the table is sunken and you sit on the floor. Both the bags and the sushi were a great time. I love my friends. As we left the sushi place, I found myself feeling grateful that things with Glenn didn't work out because if I'd stayed in LA with him, I wouldn't be able to have these people in my life as much. And I wouldn't be friends with the ones I met after I moved back. The universe works in interesting ways.