Bachelor Weak, er... Week
Over the past week, my girlfriend went on her annual family vacation. I became the de facto dog sitter since the annual family vacation rental is non-dog-friendly. We have a great group of friends who gather each night at a local park for "dog park time" and before said girlfriend departed last week, there was much laughter surrounding my upcoming bachelor week.
The guys were all excited because we envisioned running around town, staying out until all hours, screaming and yelling through the streets as if we were back in college. The ladies simply raised a single eyebrow each as if to non-verbally say, "yeah, right."
In my own mind, I set out a well-planned schedule of debauchery including beer drinking, night-clubbing, electric guitar playing, neighborhood video game championships, pizza ordering, etc. etc. I attempted to thwart the last words of the departing girlfriend regarding my current dieting efforts and the fact that in all honesty, I'm overweight and unattractive, albeit momentarily.
Now, the week has come and gone and it is the "night of the returning girlfriend" which I'm sure was pitched as a movie idea to some Hollywood execs at some point. So, how did it go? Let's see... Sunday was a huge bust as when I sat to eat dinner in front of the TV I got sucked into The True Story of Sea Biscuit. Being the man that I am, I couldn't turn it off and I cried shamelessly at the end when Sea Biscuit dies. Not even the last three spoonfuls of ice cream could soothe me. I thought about downing a bottle of wine, but opted out since I was going to at least try and make some progress at the gym the next morning.
Monday arrived early with a wet nose and the world's worst dog breath in my face around 5 a.m. Time to walk. Eventually, I made it to the gym to discover that I'd actually lost two pounds since Saturday despite a whole day of being able to eat as I pleased. Well, now what? I guess since I'm heading in the right direction, I don't want to lose the valuable ground I've gained. I spend the day working on several things while trying not to be too messy because it all catches up to you in the end. The dog park saved an almost ruined day when a few friends decided to come over for beer and Xbox competition. I splurged and bought chips and salsa, wild man that I am.
The next morning brought more dog breath and another half pound of weight loss. Wow. That's not too shabby...and the apartment is still sort of clean to boot. Eventually, I drove to Santa Cruz on an invite for the day to the annual family vacation as long as I brought the non-allowed dogs back home that evening. After a two hour drive, I parked my car a little too close to a fence which sported a large nail that gave me a new racing stripe. The annual family vacation was low on beer so the girlfriend and I volunteered to hit the store. A car had parked me in so while unsqueezing my beloved vehicle, I managed to bust out a taillight to round out the scrapes down the entire right side.
A day in the sun on the beach was enjoyable and fun but eventually it was time to head back home. The two hour drive gave us an arrival time of midnight upon which I opted once more out of wine, electric guitar and other debauchery to simply pass out in order to simply wake up in a few hours while inhalilng dog breath yet again. Another pound lost delighted me to no end when I hit the gym. Heck, I might be missing out on a ton of fun this week but at least the pounds are melting off. The day meandered meaninglessly until dog park time which where my friend Eric came to the rescue.
Eric's current womanly interest needed an evening to herself. Eric was recently evicted due to his landlord's untimely demise and the landlord's heirs more untimely decision to sell Eric's former residence. So, being a procrastinator on top of having short-notice, Eric needed a place to crash for the night so after a burger at the local bar and some more xbox and beer at home, he crashed on my couch and I called it a night around 11. Not bad for a Wednesday.
Thursday arrived at 6 a.m., of course and another pound lost at the gym. I'm beginning to wonder if someone is playing a practical joke on me by adjusting the scale lower each day where I work out. It's my last full day of bachelor week and another bust until I hit the dog park at 5 and run into my friend Kip. Kip saves me by inviting me over to his pad for a non-alcoholic Haake Beck beer which tastes surprisingly good. We chat about everything from business management books to the stock market to shopping for furniture and cleaning fireplaces until it's 8 p.m. and time for Kip to head out on a date. I meander home past Harry's bar which is packed with neatly dressed, loud and happy people just begging me to come in were I not in shorts, a dirty t-shirt and flip flops hauling two hungry dogs along.
By the time I get home, I'm starving as well so I whip up some brown rice and frozen seafood from Trader Joe's. I'm telling you, this is the kind of freedom that married men can only dream about. Yea, my life is crazy, wild, off the charts...
I pass out on the couch and wake up to the sound of the phone ringing. I had been drooling while I slept but luckily, my empty dinner plate was under my face so I didn't leave a spot on the light blue throw pillow. It's the girlfriend on the phone seeing how I'm doing and what I'm up to. I've been so good all week that I can't even
sound guilty. I say goodnight and pass out onto my dinner plate one more time until a 4 a.m. dog breath alarm clock awakes me. Yea, this is ridiculous.
After a dreary walk in the dark, I crash on the bed until 7 and then decide I may as well hit the gym and see what today brings. I'm down another pound. Wow. Well, at least I got skinny during the week and I guess that counts for something. After a great little work out, I head home feeling one notch less unattractive. I spend the day doing some work, making a Goodwill donation, cleaning up my office, doing three loads of laundry, taking out the trash, doing the dishes, watering the plants, vacuuming the floor, taking my vitamins and fixing a closet rod. Bachelor week is a total debauchery bust.
The girlfriend's ETA is just three hours away and all I could squeak out of this week was one night of video games, two beers, some chips and salsa, a burger, two more beers, one more non-alcoholic beer and three and a half pounds of weight loss. I'm thinking that I probably shouldn't lose said girlfriend since life as a bachelor seems to have lost its old lustre. Gone are the times when I used to be able to go out until 2 a.m. six nights a week with a different group of friends each time. Gone are big parties, the blaring music, the gang at my house making a ruckus until all hours.
As I sit here I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. It's "middle-age" welcoming me into its lair. I guess it's time to let go of youth and the kind of joy that comes with it. How I wish I was made of the stuff that Peter Pan was made of, that ability to maintain eternal youth and never grow up. My mind isn't growing up, but my body and my social have so I guess the mind will have to give in, play nicely and follow along. A small light bulb goes off in my head...wasn't that a single beer in the back of the fridge behind the skim milk and left over brown rice? Why yes, it was! And don't I have 180 minutes left to jam as loudly as I want on the Fender Stratocaster? Why yes, I do! Middle age might have me, but I'm not going down without a fight. I'm old, but I'm not dead and I still can manage to use a bottle opener.
Cheers to the last of "Weak Bachelor Week," in all its non-glory!