Enter snickers and hub-bub related to the Bachelorette party. Let’s just say, what happens in Asheville stays in Asheville. Except that I have to tell you about the one female we encountered that evening, because it is too hard not to. I met her in the bathroom. She saw my beads, banners, rings, and pins and felt compelled to ask what was going on.
“I’m getting married! This is my party!”
“Oh girl, don’t do it. No just kidding. Do it. This is my 4th time! Actually, we got married before, but this time we’ll probably stick.”
She stuck near us, called me over so she could drunkenly introduce me to the man who won her heart a couple of times. And that was when we realized that she was wearing a man’s button up shirt. She may have thought it could pass as a funky dress. But it was totally a shirt. See her up in the corner there?
And so obviously pool happened. I rocked it.
We got home at a decent hour, partly because of the rain, partly because our bellies were so full, partly because we’re old, and mostly because we wanted to be fresh in the morning.
And so Friday happened.