I had just recently been dumped by the guy I had been dating for 3 years, and my girls were nagging me to go out. You know, the whole "the best way to get over the ex, is the next." I knew it was over before it ended, and I was no longer in love with him, but it still stung when I saw him with another chick at the mall. I decided if I sat at home, I would probably just obsess over said new chick's Instagram page, so I put on a short number, threw back 3 shots of Jack and stumbled my way out the door. 

We went to the club we used to hang out at when we were all still single (I was now the only single one. Yay.), and we were definitely the old ladies in the club at the ripe old age of....28....when the hell did 28 become old?! Who were all these young whipper snappers? What were these dances they were doing? We quickly realized we were not about this club life, and left to go hang out at a cigar lounge.

I hate the way cigars smell...but...men. We walk in, get a round of brown and I scope the room hoping and praying that something cute was in the room. I wasn't looking for a new boyfriend, I just wanted a cute man to smile in my face. Is that desperate? Maybe. But it was going to make me feel better temporarily. 

Were there any cute guys there? Sure...any that caught my attention? Not really...or maybe I just wasn't feeling it...or I was trying too hard. I played the cute girl role, and let 2 guys buy me drinks. I laughed at their bad jokes, lied to them about having a boyfriend (that one hurt), and was soon calling an uber to take my drunk ass home. 

The next morning, my head was pounding. I was hungover...I thought if you drank the same type of liquor all night you were supposed to be good? Well...I wasn't. I was miserable. I looked at my phone...No missed calls. A few missed texts from my friend's telling me they made it home safely. But mostly, my phone was just dry as hell. I needed a Gatorade and ibuprofen desperately, and had no man to bring it to me, and didn't want to bother any of my friends.

I barely had the strength to take my head wrap off, but I knew my mom would kill me if she saw me, and we still live in the same city. I halfway did something to my head, put on some leggings and a graphic tee and dragged myself to the store. I get the few things I needed to heal myself, and with the great dark circles under my eyes I spy one of the finest men I've ever seen.

Great. This is just great.

I am in this store looking absolutely crazy. My head is so messed up, I can't even remember if I brushed my teeth properly. I avoid him, because I just can't. I get in line, so I can rush out the store. He gets in line behind me, and I can feel him staring at my ass. I turn around with a attitude, and he smiles at me, introduces himself, and asks me my name,

GAH! Why does he have to be so fine? And he didn't say "Hey Ma," or "Psst." Am I in love?

Of course not...let's not be ridiculous. He made me laugh though, so I stick around until he's done paying, and he walks me to my car. He asks me for my phone number, and I hesitate but the basket is clearly in my court so the least I can do is give him my correct number. He texts me that afternoon to make plans for next Sunday. I'm geeked, but I'm trying to act cool.

Maybe the date will be terrible. Maybe the date will be amazing.

Whatever. I'm just happy that my phone is a little less dry today, than it was yesterday.

It's the little things that matter most.

XO, Brittany

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