Being the type of girl who likes to get her kicks where she can, I try to find ways to creatively maneuver around that whole "being married" bit and get myself out there. My friend Veronica and I have been known to go on a mean date, one involving posh martinis in little Russian cafes at the beginning and hot tubs at the end. Meow. Today, I am being all James Bond and going on an international date. With a married woman.
A few weeks ago Dove sent me a purse (did you know I have a purse thing? I have a purse thing) that had some shampoo, some conditioner, some deodorant (which, shock, actually kind of rocks) and 2 movie tickets to see The Women, which opened in theaters on Friday.
Guess where the tickets are only good in? That's right, AMERICA. Um, America? You're, like, *this* much of the world. Share with the group already. Puff puff give, you know?
I was totally going to give away the tickets and then I remembered that I live 30 minutes from America, and my friend Latte Mommy lives 5 minutes from America, and we both really loves us some Target, and the Target closest to here is right next to the American Movie Theater closest to here, and yeah...I totally asked her out. On a date. Over international boundary lines.
Really, how many people have asked you out on a date that required a passport and, potentially, a cavity search?
Let me rephrase that: Really, how many people have asked you out on a date that required a passport and, potentially, a cavity search by a man in uniform?
Still not right: Really, how many people have asked you out on a date that required a passport and, potentially, a cavity search by a grumpy, caffeinated, uniformed government official? While sober?
So, at about 2pm, LatteMommy and I will set out on a whirlwind adventure of mystery and intrigue in a foreign country. There will be dinner. There will be a movie; a Chick Flick movie, at that. There will be Starbucks and a there will be a pack of Marlboro's, dammit. And there will be Target.