Years ago, I dressed up as Zorro for Halloween. I was supposed to go to a party and classically, I got hopelessly lost. I finally found the Halloween party. I went in and started talking. I had a really good time. I met a guy and we hit it off. At one point I said, “Who’s having this party?” A guy in the crowd raised his hand. I didn’t know him. I was at the wrong party!
Horribly embarrassed, I made my way to the door. The man I met followed me out. In fact, several people followed me out, laughing all the way. They thought it was hilarious. The guy seemed pretty bummed I was leaving. I said if I couldn’t find the party I’d come back. I never found the party and I never found my way back. I don’t understand people who say they have no regrets. I wished I would have stayed.
And that concludes A-Z Blog Challenge!!! Yeah!! Done & Done!
I’ve been to Yellowstone probably three or four times. When we took “V” for vacation (an earlier post) where we were all sick, I stood outside waiting for the restroom to open up. I paced. I gritted my teeth. I danced. I crossed my legs. I’m dying here. Finally, I heard a familiar noise. My dad cleared his throat. Horrors upon horrors. My dad was in the women’s restroom. I could barely contain my disgust.
“Dad! What are you doing in the women’s restroom?”
His logical response. “The men’s was busy.”
“I have to get in there!” Another logical response. “The men’s is open.”
Another horror upon horror. No way, would I go in the men’s! Sigh, I was twelve.