It started out innocently enough on Saturday night. I just wanted to go to a comedy show. We booked online last minute and headed out to Yuk Yuk’s.

This is what I wore…

I wasn’t sure about this dress because of the length at first, but then the fit and colour was just too good to pass up.

Anyhoo…the dress isn’t my story. Back to the comedy show…

We arrived about 30 minutes before the show and went to the box office. A gang of drunk girls showed up at the same time as us. A bachelorette party complete with male blow-up doll and penis tiara for the bride-to-be. (Lucky gal! I wonder how many other times she’ll get to wear that tiara? Scratch that. I don’t want to know.)

Needless to say they were obnoxious, pushy and rowdy. Half of them managed to push their way in front of us in line and the other half squeezed in behind. There were about 25 of us jammed into this little dark room trying to either pay for tickets or pick up our tickets from the box office.

I personally have never attended a bachelorette party, oddly enough I have attended a bachelor-type birthday party (don’t ask) so I know how drunk/crazy/out-of-control people can get. I do not however…in my many years of drunken stupors, remember once trying to pick up another woman’s husband while she was standing right next to him. 

It’s one thing to comment on someone else’s husband’s appearance, but another thing entirely to…hang on, I’m getting ahead of myself here.

One gal said to my husband like I wasn’t even there, “Your moustache is very sexy.”

After the comment I warned them, “You’d better just chill!”

 

Like that worked.

They all looked at me like I was some cranky little old lady weakly shaking her cane at them while gumming herself.

A few of them laughed.

I need to up my menacing threat game.

And maybe go to the gym.

Or wear a sleeveless t-shirt that says, “YO! Don’t mess with me B****es!” while lisping and spitting intimidations through my insane gangsta grill.

 

Instead I’m wearing a floral satin wiggle dress.

Can you see me getting into a fist fight in a wiggle dress?

It’s like wearing a straight jacket for swimming.

 

Don’t worry! I didn’t start throwing punches, pulling hair, ripping off penis tiaras or stabbing their blow up doll, Ed-hardo.

I kept my cool. I took some deep breaths and convinced myself it’d all be over soon enough.

 

This is where the story gets interesting…

What I didn’t notice was that after I’d explicitly warned them to relax one of the gals was rubbing on my husband from the back.

With her hands. (Yeah I know…it could have been worse I suppose.)

Did husband report this to me immediately?  Or turn around and tell her to stop?

No.

Is my husband a middle aged man?

Yes.

Do you need any further explanation?

I didn’t think so.

Husband did tell me about this afterwards, and to his credit, he did move away from them right after the molestation.

I hate to think of what might have happened in that little dark room if I’d have witnessed that.

We’ve been married 24 years. I don’t consider myself a super jealous person, but certain things can really push my buttons and some drunk gal 20 years my junior rubbing on my husband in a dark room is one of them.

 

Are you possessive? Have you ever had something similar happen? If so, what did you do?

 

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