That story was certainly the deal last night. Out on the town with two of my close friends, Maritza (sassy Latina who is enjoying the dating scene) and Delia (happily coupled with great social skills), we decided to hang out on one of the biggest meat markets in Chicago for the early 20-something set: Clark Street in Wrigleyville. Only setting out to have a little fun, we ended up at the most "meat markety" place on the street - a bar known for its wide open space where girls stand around and dance while guys ogle. It's like a junior high dance - only with more fast paced music and alcohol.
Anyway, we scanned the room and Maritza found a guy that latched on to her rather quickly. Short in stature, but adorable in the fact, he kind of reminded me of a kid brother. But for Maritza, I guess right then and there he hit the spot. He was throwing himself at her, after all.
For me? Well, that was a little different. I met a couple of guys who bought me drinks, and one of them decided to pursue me through the night to get my number, and find me afterward. I don't know what it was - I mean the sweater vest he was wearing reminded me of Chandler from "Friends." But it was also strangely cute. Whatever it was, we hit it off for the night.
Now it's Saturday, I'm reflecting on Friday, and all I can find myself thinking: "I made out with a guy in a sweater vest in a bar. Hmm. That was a good time."
Yep, shopping in the meat market, you never know what you'll find. Key takeaway here? Yeah, it's partly never judge a book by its cover. But then again... As long as you're not setting out to meet your husband, the meat market can be entertaining. You never know what will be waiting for you right around the corner.