Dr. Jekyll And Mrs. Hyde

On the way to Hubby's gig last Friday night, I spotted an ad on the side of a bus that caught my attention.  It was for a religious BET television program called Afternoon Praise. 

Afternoon praise, I mused out loud, in my best preacher voice.  Is that anything like, I love your shirt, is it new?  What a great haircut!  You have such nice eyes...

Afternoon Praise.  Hubby was too preoccupied to fully appreciate my shtick, seeing as he was heading towards what was probably his last nyc gig before the big move.

Friends can't attend every gig.  This is a fact of life.  If someone can come, well, I consider myself very lucky.  What this means is that sometimes I find myself sitting in clubs, perched on solitary barstools, unaccompanied, quarantined, sequestered, solo...and alone.  It's too dark to read and it's too loud to call someone.  And so I drink.  Heavily.  I drink until I'm friendly.  I drink until I ask the bathroom attendant where she's from, and when she answers the Dominican Republic, I exclaim into her bewildered face, "Oh!  Like Manny Ramirez!"  I drink until a hot dog vendor tells me he's from Egypt, and I ask him if he's read The Alchemist.  "You'll LOVE it!" I assure him, as Hubby coaxes my inebriated ass into a cab.  Once inside, I quickly learn that our cabbie is from Africa.  "So, how do you like New York?"  I will ask, ignoring my husband's pleading blue eyes.  "Do you have any children?"  (He does.)  "Oh, they're back home in Africa?"  (They are.)  "Do you miss them?"  (He does.)

Last Friday evening I daintily knocked back five glasses of wine, surpassing my strict three drink limit and thus pushing myself over the edge of sanity and reason.  Often times when I become intoxicated, in addition to being overly friendly I also become very, very...tenderhearted.  Not only do I like everyone within a ten thousand mile radius, I love them!  And I will tell them so, in great, loving detail.  Technology has even allowed me to expand and take this habit to the next level, what with cell phones and text messaging.  It's creepy and disturbing and I don't know why I do it.  OK, I suppose it could have something to do with the wine...

The irony is that anyone who knows me also knows that behind my smile lies a twisted, hateful little secret: I don't really expect to be liked and in turn find myself genuinely liking very few people.  (I can't believe I'm admitting this pathetic fact on the world wide web.)  It's sick and it's wrong and I should probably go talk to somebody about it. 

So I have anti-social tendencies, but why the Dr. Jekyll/Mrs. Hyde routine?  My Mother suggests it's because my true personality is naturally compassionate and hospitable, hence the emergence of the loving demeanor.  This is something only a mother would say, but I'll thank her nonetheless.

Whatever my motivation, I feel I should perhaps harness these powers for the good of humankind.  The other day I suggested the following to Hubby:  He shall place me in a room, in a comfy, oversized armchair.  To my side will be a fresh box of pinot grigio and a glass.  The lighting will be low, with music humming softly in the background.  One by one, he will lead in any person in need of a self-esteem boost and seat them down next to me.  And then I will proceed, slurring ever so slightly, but with vim, with vigor:

Aren't you wonderful!  (Hiccup!)  Aren't you amazing!  Where on earth did you find that eyeshadow?  I absolutely LOVE it!  And I love you.

I shall label my noble endeavor, Drunken Praise.  Starring myself, The Odd Broad.  My next performance begins at eight PM sharp. 

xoxo

Comments

[Sister]

I didn't know you were drunken texting that night until you told me the "I am your bosom friend" and then I knew. You're like Daddy....you both feel the love when you are on the sauce. (Hence, the response to your Father's Day blog!) Of course, daddy really loves you...he does! For reals!

[Weinerdog]

We should do a double act, you can praise and I can criticize.

Oh I was in rare form on Friday! I almost called you so we could both sing "What I did for love" into a drumstick I stole from the drummer of this band I went to see.

[The Odd Broad]

You know I'm always up for A Chorus Line medley...