Aaand home!
*Touches home, and winks when the umpire yells "SAFE!"*
This is actually a bit of the old 'live like you've got 9 lives' Catt going on here, because I just walked home from the bar. Up Prospect Hill. In just about a half an hour. And lemme tell ya, Ladies and Gentlemens, that ain't no walk of shame there! I have officially EARNED those two beers I had tonight!
Okay, the skinny, since I know someone will ask.
It was a whim to take the bus down to the bar. It happened to be coming down the block when I left the house, and I have my bus pass in my wallet, so I decided, on the spur of the moment, to skip the downtown Troy parking hassle. I was wearing my Sandlars, (for those of the non-rennie persuasion, those are EXCELLENT walking boots,) and aside from a little makeup and earrings, hadn't done the Girl!Drag much at all, so I didn't feel at all hinky about it.
Trouble is, the bus in question only runs about once an hour. And so when I left the bar to head home, apparently it had just gone by.
And you know what? A woman is MUCH more vulnerable waiting around alone at a bus stop than she is if she's walking somewhere. This occured to me when a truck pulled around the block twice to scope me out. I decided I liked my chances of not becoming a statistic (again) better if I hoofed it up the hill, rather than if I hung out there much longer. And as it happened, that truck did come around again, and the driver did ask me if I wanted a ride home... while I was ringing up Dominus to have him on the line with me while I walked home. I told the driver 'no thank you', and then described his truck to my husband, just in case the information should become relevant, and then we chatted about our respective evenings for the next half hour while I hiked home, and he tried to find his way back from the tramway through Excalibur and the Luxor to Mandalay Bay.
And now, to reward myself, I'm going to have an apple, another beer, and then clean the kitty boxes.
SUCH FUN, Y'ALL!
(Oh, and Karaoke? Much better when you've a posse to hang out with. Next time, I'm gonna chain-gang/shamelessly bribe you locals to come along, even if you don't want to sing. You have been warned!)
This is actually a bit of the old 'live like you've got 9 lives' Catt going on here, because I just walked home from the bar. Up Prospect Hill. In just about a half an hour. And lemme tell ya, Ladies and Gentlemens, that ain't no walk of shame there! I have officially EARNED those two beers I had tonight!
Okay, the skinny, since I know someone will ask.
It was a whim to take the bus down to the bar. It happened to be coming down the block when I left the house, and I have my bus pass in my wallet, so I decided, on the spur of the moment, to skip the downtown Troy parking hassle. I was wearing my Sandlars, (for those of the non-rennie persuasion, those are EXCELLENT walking boots,) and aside from a little makeup and earrings, hadn't done the Girl!Drag much at all, so I didn't feel at all hinky about it.
Trouble is, the bus in question only runs about once an hour. And so when I left the bar to head home, apparently it had just gone by.
And you know what? A woman is MUCH more vulnerable waiting around alone at a bus stop than she is if she's walking somewhere. This occured to me when a truck pulled around the block twice to scope me out. I decided I liked my chances of not becoming a statistic (again) better if I hoofed it up the hill, rather than if I hung out there much longer. And as it happened, that truck did come around again, and the driver did ask me if I wanted a ride home... while I was ringing up Dominus to have him on the line with me while I walked home. I told the driver 'no thank you', and then described his truck to my husband, just in case the information should become relevant, and then we chatted about our respective evenings for the next half hour while I hiked home, and he tried to find his way back from the tramway through Excalibur and the Luxor to Mandalay Bay.
And now, to reward myself, I'm going to have an apple, another beer, and then clean the kitty boxes.
SUCH FUN, Y'ALL!
(Oh, and Karaoke? Much better when you've a posse to hang out with. Next time, I'm gonna chain-gang/shamelessly bribe you locals to come along, even if you don't want to sing. You have been warned!)
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