Bar Talk

When Tommy is in town the majority of free-time is spent at Murphy’s. He’s worth the lung cancer I’m convinced I've developed over the last few days. He left this morning, so last night the troops rallied to give him a proper send-off. I promised myself I’d only stay a couple of hours, but that never seems to work. I also promised myself I’d not have any embarrassing moments, which also didn’t seem to work.

Miss D, my all-time favorite woman of the group, was there. I’ve not seen her as she’s been gallivanting around Europe, leaving us to fend for ourselves. (Many Hootie songs were heard on her behalf.) In my excitement to see her I didn’t pay much attention to the others sitting at the table. I started talking to her and another friend about my dating life and in typical Sarah fashion ended the story by uttering the term “dry-humping.” It was at that moment Miss D looked at the man sitting across from her and said, “Sarah, this is my father.” I could feel a slow burn rising to my cheeks and said, “OF course it is!” Miss D laughed and said something about another classic Sarah moment.

He had a great sense of humor and wasn’t bothered at all. Luckily my dating life is in a lull these days; otherwise, I’m afraid of what other non-parental term I may have uttered in front of him.

Later in the evening I was looking for my purse and found it tucked away at his table. I’m guessing he sensed my lack of responsibility and decided he better keep an eye out for me. And I’m sure glad he did! I need all the help I can get.