We went on a date Saturday.  A real live, no kids, holding hands date.  For the first time in many, many months.  We so needed to get away and just be alone.  Just reconnect as the “couple”.  It was a shot for us to let the tensions go and enjoy the company of each other.  (This is important later.) I put on my little date halter, my hoochie-mama shoes (that haven’t seen the light of day since Gabriella was born) and even a little make-up and jewelry.  I was going out on a date, people. 

We decided to go get some margaritas on Genuine.  (No, not ON Genuine.  Courtesy of Genuine.) What more can a girl ask for?  A hot date, freedom from stress for the night and free drinks.  I was on cloud 9.  (A later post will talk more about the date itself.  With pictures.  This is not that entry.)

So, we are standing in the Mexican restaurant waiting for a table.  (Saturday night in this town, you better count on a wait.) Next thing I know, the hair on the back of my neck stands up.  Why?  At the time, I have no idea.  Then this woman hugs Clint.  Excuse me? Then she extends her hand and says,“I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I am….”

Wait.

Let me back up.

You see about 6 years ago (give or take), Clint and I were in a bad place in our relationship. We weren’t getting along super great, but we still were working on things.  I may have been acting psychotic, but he was still mine and I was very much in love with him.  At that time he was working at a small company and hung out with a group of friends.  It was him, Super Cool Guy I Still Adore and two other women.  The 4 of them did a lot together.  I was cool with him going out with them since I wasn’t getting along so well with Clint anyway and wanted to go out with my own friends. 

That is, I was cool with it until I met one of them.  One of the “women” came over to our house one weekend that summer.  Ladies, back me up here.  Have you ever been in the presence of a woman that you know beyond any doubt she is not to be trusted.  That regardless of what she says or does, she has designs on your man.  That there is nothing about her that you feel is genuine?  You know that gut feeling that says, “Get your claws out and be ready to take her down if she makes the wrong move?” It was a case of instant distrust and distain.  As sure as I know my name, I know this woman was up to no good.  That day I told Clint that she is never welcome in my home and that he really needs to reconsider hanging out with her.  (You must understand- and Clint will vouch for me here- that I am very easy going about what he does and who he hangs with.  I completely trust him and have no reason not to. Never have I told him that he “cannot or should not” hang out with someone.  Until her.) It has been 6 years, a few jobs and the birth of another child since then.  But to this day, he knows how I still feel.  (Okay, anyone can know how I feel. I don’t hide it.)

Back to date night.  (You know where this is going, don’t you?)

So, we are standing in the Mexican restaurant waiting for a table.  (Saturday night in this town.  You better count on a wait.) Next thing I know, the hair on the back of my neck stands up.  Why?  At the time, I have no idea.  Then this woman hugs Clint.  Excuse me? Then she extends her hand and says,“I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I am [Woman You Can’t Stand That You Refer To As Skanky Ho].”

Not remember you?  NOT remember you?  I had a better chance at not remembering my own grandmother than not remembering her.  However, I didn’t recognize her at first.  She had changed. Physically.  She was about 9 months pregnant.  Yet, the hair on the back of my neck stood up nonetheless. She may have been pregnant, but I am doubtful she has changed.

I behaved.  I was civil.  Clint pretty much cringed inwardly while praying silently that I would not hurt the pregnant woman standing before me.  I didn’t.  Actually, I was quite friendly.  Not at all catty.  (Okay, a little but come on.  I had to be.) Oh sure, I had a look that said (in no way vague) that I saw through her then and would have no problem hurting her now if she ever came near us again.  She may not have been the brightest bulb in the fixture, but I am sure she caught it.  (Ladies, you just know when another woman is giving a look like that no matter how bright you may or may not be. Right?)

After she walked away, Clint looked at me.  I laughed right out loud in his face.  I have never seen such an “oh-shit-is-this-going-to-be-bad-for-me” look before.  I just patted myself on the back for behaving.  Grabbed his ass (you know I had to publically claim it). Then I told him that the neverending flow of attention directed my way could commence.

Sidenote, he said, “So, you’re going to blog that, right?” I told him that I probably wouldn’t since I really have nothing nice to say about the encounter. 

He paused.  Looked at me and said, “So, you’re going to blog that, right?”

Hell yes I’m going to blog that!

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