“Push, where are you? Are you in Detroit?”
“No, but I’m headed that way now. What’s up?”
“There’s a house party out in West Bloomfield and you’re invited! There’s going to be a table full of hot, gorgeous women and you’re our special guest!” I laughed. It was 3:14pm, Arizona time, and there was no way I could possibly make the party.
“What time does it end?”
“It starts at 7pm and ends around midnight.”
“Well, I’m boarding the plane right now,” I said, looking for seat 10D. I slid into the row quickly as impatient passengers pushed and shoved their way to appointed seats.
“Hold on, Patti.” A middle-aged white couple made their way through the busy aisle-way into the narrow row with me.
“Are you both sitting here?” I stood up to let them in.
“Yes, but I think you have the window seat.”
“Oh, ok!” I slid back into the small row and sat down to finish the discussion with Patti. I met her about two weeks ago at a cabaret in Dearborn, Michigan. She had good conversation, a pretty face, down-to-earth attitude, and laughed at all my jokes. That night, after plenty glasses of Zinfandel, shots of tequila, and a few failed attempts at ballrooming (we both were too drunk to stand still), Patti invited me to her family’s Christmas Day dinner. I accepted the offer, gave her my card, and told her to call me. I really wasn’t sure whether I would be able to keep the dinner date because I’d made plans to be in Arizona, California, and Michigan….simultaneously. But, if Patti called me with a convincing reason why I should attend her event, then so be it. But, I certainly would’ve loved to attend the West Bloomfield party if only she’d told me in advance. … (more)
