Confessions of A Naughty Girl

The "Ram"-ifications of It All

Remember "The Ram" from the Valenstein's Day party?

I do.

I can't forget him.

I have seen him at least four times in the last three weeks in various locations. Apparently we live, eat, shop, work out, and poop in the same 5-mile vicinity.

He is everywhere.

The slumber-party-Cheetos-craving-PMSing-romantic-comedy-watching girl in me wonders if this is some sort of sign that he's my soul mate and shit. I mean, what are the odds that I ran into this guy three weeks ago and now I see him everywhere? So far I've seen him at a party, at Bagel Palace, and at the gym. And I think I saw him out last weekend at a bar, but I'm not sure. You may want to try asking the barrel of pinot grigio and two vodka tonics that are still swimming in my liver. My point remains: isn't this a little bit odd? This is a big city. There are a lot of places to be.

Then again, if he is my true soul mate, does my soul mate really work out in a track suit? Does he really go out to bars wearing suede blazers with a ram embossed on them? Does he really buck the rules of fashion (pun absolutely intended) and express such blatant disregard for appropriate young male attire that he may be subjected to mockery and merciless teasing by picky bitches like myself?

Thankfully, my Wife lent me some insight this morning when I inquired about the Ram. Apparently, she knows him from growing up and says he is a (and I quote for emphasis), "douchebag".

Well my Wife, point taken. But he is a douchebag that shops at the same grocery store, lives in the same area, and works out at the same gym as I do. So what does that make me?

posted by KA @ 1:03 PM