Every year, although I reassure him it’s not necessary, Hub insists on taking me out to dinner for my birthday.
After several weeks of holiday parties and over-indulging and way too many nights away from my comfy perch.
This year, in lieu of dining out, he bought tickets to Ladies’ Comedy Night at Miner’s Alley, a teeny tiny theater in Golden, Colorado. I wasn’t sure he realized that meant THE CROWD would be ladies, not just the comedians. Sure enough, when we walked into the theater, the cacophony of voices was decidedly high-pitched. We spotted three vacant seats in the middle row (there are only five rows) and sat down.
To the left of us – a group of women complaining about work. Behind us – three women yakking about their kids. In front of us – two women loudly discussing their post-divorce status and luck (or lack thereof) on the local dating scene.
“You ok?” I asked Hub.
“Sure”, he smiled gamely, his eyes searching the crowd for signs of testosterone.
I thought to myself, “at least he’s got an empty seat beside him to buffer him a little.”
Just before the show began, an attractive 30-ish blonde, holding a cocktail, excused herself across several seated patrons and slid into the seat next to Hub. Looking at both of us, she smiled brightly and said, “Hi, I’m Casey. I have a Perky Nipple. Would you like one?”
Hub turned to me, arched his eyebrow, and we burst out laughing.
“Sure,” I piped up. “Give the man a Perky Nipple. Lord knows it’s been awhile … “
Should I be worried that Hub bought himself a season ticket to Ladies’ Comedy Night?