Can You Walk the Walk?

I sipped my fourth glass of red. I had changed locations from Trattoria Vivolo to Anthony's Grille around the corner. I was about fifty feet from my front door. I had previously spent about twenty minutes talking with Gina. We debated and conversed through a few difficult conversations. It wasn't until my fourth glass of wine that I felt myself becoming numb.

I sipped again and again from my gigantic glass of red. I felt the languid tannins running down my throat. I grasped my sobriety with fingertips and felt myself unleashing my opinions without any conscience.

I was sitting on a barstool. The televisions blared sports events and entertainment news. I felt myself melting into the cushion as I listened to Gina explain events as they happened in her eyes. In the meantime, bar patrons took notice to the two young women sitting at the end of the bar. Cat calling and flirtatious conversations began. I sat up in my stool and fluffed my hair hoping to be noticed.

The wine hit me in full force. I watched Gina walk around the bar to begin pouring herself her own Guiness to the cheers of the patrons on the opposite side of the bar. I remained frozen to my barstool. I watched and cheered with the rest of them. I felt in my big, bulky purse for my Mac lipgloss. I dabbed a bit on my lips. I fluffed my hair again and wiped the eyeliner that may or may not be beneath my eyelids. I sat upwards in my chair hoping that good posture would bring me the attention that I deserved.

I finally stirred in my seat, realizing the time. I got up and walked towards the ladies room. On the walk to the bathroom, I realized that there was a full size mirror in front of me. I locked eyes with myself and made myself walk the catwalk. I literally pushed my shoulders back, sucked in my stomach, flipped my hair back and made the ultimate sexy pout. I watched my body walk down this long hallway and checked myself out as if I was a judge giving points on every single detail.

I stoppped short about five feet before the bathroom.

I couldn't believe what I saw. My clothes were disheveled from my work day. My make up was leftover from seven o'clock that morning. My strut was sabotaged by my baggy work pants. It was then that I realized... I'm not sure if I still "have it."

I got into the bathroom alone. I did the normal self-pep talk where I told myself how hot and sexy I was. Then I stopped and observed what was in front of me. There really wasn't anything too special. I had some hot ass glasses and some hot ass shoes on. The rest left a lot to be desired. It was then that I decided that I would go after it. That I would become that hot girl that everyone wants to look at. Why? Life is just too short than to do it any other way.