It’s Hot

My AC is going full-blast, and I’m still dripping with sweat.

Yesterday was my birthday party, and the hottest day of the year so far. I wisely decided to do the party outdoors, at a beer garden. Everyone melted into puddles and got mopped away by ladies wearing wench costumes.

Another thing that happened at the beer garden: Every single person I know left with their wife, husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, triad relationship or casual fling. Everyone, that is, except the birthday girl. I think you know what this means.

It means it’s time to find new single friends. Coworker Dennis and I will be accepting applications. In order to qualify, you must be:

1) Doy, single.
2) Able to read. (You must also own books, particularly ones you’d like to lend me.)
3) Able to drink and fond of doing so.
4) Not totally insane.
5) Not totally sane either, because what would we talk about?

Females, males, and persons of all known genders and inclinations are welcome. Applications may be included in the comments.

Published by Jen Hubley Luckwaldt

I'm a freelance writer and editor.

5 thoughts on “It’s Hot

  1. I read, but I only read jenniesmash and old cached copies of Jennie’s posts on (in?) Black Table. Over and over.

    Clearly, this fact alone shows I meet all of the qualifications and conditions!

  2. I meet all of the qualifications and conditions…but I live in friggin’ Mississippi. Where it’s currently hot as Hades, by the way. (It’s not the heat. It’s the humidity!)

  3. Since you don’t have a private email, I’ll just send you this out for everyone to see:

    Our company (in the Flatiron district) is having its annual party this Wed night and attending this party will be all kinds of TV/film people. They’re cool, a good percentage are single (I’m not, though. This isn’t a come-on) — and even if you don’t meet anyone, it’s always an excuse to skip the AA meeting or put off that cult you’ve been thinking of being abducted by.

    Since it’s a music company, there’ll be jamming in the studios (no “Smoke on the Water,” please), an obscene amount of alcohol and some kick-ass finger food. (Wow. Know I know why I never see the phrase ‘kick-ass” next to “finger food.” Geez, that sounds disgusting.)

    Contact me and I’ll arrange to have an invite sent via email — bring a date if you like.

  4. The last message wasn’t spam, btw.

    I’m serious about the invite. And about the finger food thing. That’s still pretty damn gross.

    I have a new request, though. Please bring your Mom. I’ve always been a big fan of hers, too.

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