I was soooooo angry. It's true, I have my fathers' temper and this weekend my spouse was the source. Frankly... he's lucky to be alive after Friday night. I feel very priveledged to sit on the advisory panel of the country club's entertainment committee. As many clubs now-a-days, ours is facing declining retention and membership and have focused our efforts toward engaging members, enhancing functions and activities, at LRYCC, to ensure overall satisfaction in members' experience. That said, our first Kareoke & Cocktails Event, there our table sat, front and center, "RESERVED FOR HEIMER"... THERE I SAT, and sat and sat. For the first time in my life, I was stood up. Now, Justin IS my husband. Of course, I know ALL about the sacrifices of a life chasing the golf career dream (been there people) - it torchers my family daily - and I can't imagine many wives that equal in my support and passion. H-O-W-E-V-E-R, it's Friday night after a VERY stressful work week and my hubby lines up a sitter (significant expense in itself) reserves our table, plays 18 Friday afternoon and calls around 6pm to communicate (i.e. beg) that perhaps another "few" holes wouldn't hurt. I agreed happily, another 30 mins, no problem (the club has the best martinis) You guessed it! The event that started at 6:30 greeted my underdressed husband (and his stinky golf buddies - no offense guys) at around 7:45pm. Now, when I say I am angry, I am on my second martini, and at least 14 people pleading that I sit at their table, just to relive their own akward discomfort brought on by my table-for-two, solitude.
Those of you who know us, know that Justin and I are intense, to say the least. Everything is to the "Nth", thats all we know. The night was certainly ruined, my mood couldn't possibly change and I would've left long ago if not for trying to maintain appearances that I was the "chill" wife that was so cool (N.S.M.). Realizing my outfit and the sitter are a total waste, I throw my hands up and ask the server for another of my usual. My gaze turns to a familiar wail (dare I say voice/song) belting... "You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lipsss"... We all know our husbands, you know their voice, their favorite movies, their fantasies. I am not Kelly McGilis and Justin is not (ok almost) Tom Cruise. The cheers ensued as did my forgiveness and my heart melted as he serenaded me on the dance floor, to what is sure to be among the most embarrassing moments he'll have to live down, at the clubhouse. Ahhh.. forgiveness:-)
Men... can't live with them, can't live without them.
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