Last night as I was getting ready to count sheep, I turned on HBO. They were playing clips of Pee-Wee's Playhouse. Instantly, it caught my attention. Pee-Wee had a striking resemblance to my ex, Peter Pan. I regret to inform everyone, but I had sex with Pee-Wee Herman. OH MY GOD.
Instantly I began remembering the numerous embarrassing things Peter-Pan did during our "relationship" and could not help but think thank you Divorce Goggles, thank you for making me blind enough to look past his cheapness, his stupidness and his shortness. Are those even words? Regardless, WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!
As I've said many times, hanging out with Peter Pan was exhausting, he would jam pack a "date" with visits to every Tom, Dick and Harry. It was flat out annoying. Which brings me to one particular date. Because Peter was exceptionally cheap we rarely did anything that involved spending money. This particular time, I had purchased Yankees tickets for Peter's birthday. I must have been high when I did this, because this guy never even brought me gas station flowers, let alone take me to a Yankee Game. But, I brought very expensive Yankee tickets. It was, the hottest day of the summer. So hot my thighs were sweating. When Peter came to pick me up he informed me that after the game we were going to his friends 30th surprise party. After the game??? Was he joking??? But instead of saying something I agreed. We sat for the ENTIRE game, I sweat off about 20 pounds, and after the game we FIRST had to meet his other friends at the Mad Hatter in New York City for ONE friggin drink. I was so sweaty I brought a tank top in the gift shop, washed my sweaty pits in the bathroom sink like a homeless lady and tried my best to freshen up. Again, I must have been high.
We arrived at the Mad Hatter, but his "friends" were not there. Since we were only allowed to share a hot dog at the stadium due to the super expensive stadium food, we also had a quick bite at the Mad Hatter. At this point, I would have rather gone home to sleep off the heat exhaustion. Instead, we headed to the surprise party in Holmdel.
When we arrived the surprise party was in full mode. After all it was already 11PM! The girls were either in the pool, or had freshly applied make up and were wearing cute little sundresses. I looked like I should have been skimming the crud off the pool with the pool boys and clearing the garbage from the bathrooms. This my friends was a not so fresh moment for me. I had no bathing suit and was wearing jean shorts that looked like I peed myself and a grimy tank top with a baseball hat. Hello ugly girl. Peter Pan was wearing his token old man Docker shorts and an ugly Tommy Bahama shirt. Of course by this point in the party everyone was drunk, and they kept trying to get us to swim either in our birthday suits or fully clothed. I was doing neither. These people were just as nuts as Peter Pan.
And then it happened. As I was taking a sip of my Mojito to shake my heat exhaustion off, I saw what is forever embedded in my brain. Peter Pan in the pool fully clothed sitting in a child size floating duck yelling "Honey look at me, I'm in a duckie." I wanted to drown him. The fact that he could fit in that stupid duck is embarrassing enough, the fact that he was floating in it well speaks for itself. And that is when my divorce goggles were ripped off my face. Seeing a "grown" fully clothed man floating in a blow up duck is a major reality check. And I personally do not want any man that I am involved with doing anything with a blow up duckie, ever.
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