Foosball! And a Date!

Saturday night I went to a party. An adult party where I didn’t just experience “party” the noun but also “party” the verb. Two small children made an appearance, crawling about the floor pretending to be a kitten (the girl) and a puppy (her little brother). But they were clean, in their jammies and quiet, except for the meows and yips. They didn’t scratch or pee on anything either.

At this party were adults mingling, guitar players strumming, a deck for smoking, colorful liqueurs for imbibing. And center stage: a foosball table!

I never gave foosball much thought. Watching an episode of Friends, I never eyed Joey and Chandler’s foosball table, dreaming of the day I could house one. A pool table, sure. But that takes up so much room, what with the sticks and all. After a few games of foosball, and an early evening decision to focus on honing my defense skills, I am hooked.

This has nothing to do with the fact that my soon to be nephew-in-law congratulated me repeatedly on my foosball defensive skills. Because I know he was just being polite, and I pretty much sucked, especially since by the time I played with him I'd had had four beers, four jello shots and two shots of baily’s and khalua. Which brings us to my next topic, the server of these shots.

I got asked out. By a girl.

We had bonded over our weight loss goal (we both weigh the same and need to lose the same amount). Then, of course, the shots. As I slipped on my coat, she tucked her business card into my palm and said “Call me, we have to get together. I belong to the Y in town, and if I had someone to go with I might actually do it!”

I’ll share a secret bit of synchronicity with you. At my MOPS group, they have a prayer request box. On impulse, I scratched out the anonymous request, “Please help me find some girlfriends. And some peace.”

So, just a week later, and I get picked up at a party! And asked on a date to go exercising!

I plan to start asking for what I want more often.