On Haters...

To all the haters out there, I beg of you: Do not bring your haterific ways into the '09!

On New Year's Eve, I ended up going to a party. A friend (and yes, friend. Not boyfriend, boo, beau, courter, love interest, potential boyfriend, guy-I'm-talking-to, lover, potential, fiancee or even the guy I know and am harboring a secret, random crush on) called me before the party and offered to drive. Who wouldn't want a free ride on New Year's Eve? Happily, I obliged.

As it was New Year's Eve, I took extra care in crafting my appearance: In short, the corset came back in rotation. Pulled out the three-inch cranberry FM pumps. Straightened the hair.

So, random friend...who, on second thought is really more of an acquaintance, comes to pick me up. We arrive at the same time to the venue. As we arrive at the same time, we appear to be a couple. We are not. We are no more of a couple than peanut-butter and ketchup sandwiches. We are two people who rode in the same vehicle and sat at the same table. As such, I understand the perception that we are a couple.

Already slightly irritated that my $5 game was going to be hampered by having this not-my-boyfriend sit next to me, you know what I did: After the obligatory 15 minute polite table sharing, I got up. The social butterfly, I immediately began to scout prospects. A few emerged. Every few minutes I returned to the table, checked in on whats-his-name, ordered something to snack on and moved on.

All in all, I had a great time. I had a great time and not a single man approached me, asked me for my number or *gasp* offered a libation.

Then, the man I am NOT involved with and I left. This person, who shall henceforth and forevermore be known as hater, then shared something with me.

"Girl, I like going out with you. You get all the attention."
Surprised, I wondered what he was talking about. I had spend the evening, pretty much, in the company of women and being ignored by men.

He then continued, "The guys were all over you. In fact, four came up to me and asked if we were together."

Get ready for this:

"I said yes."

Excuse me? My eyebrow cocked up in suprise. Suprise turned to aggravation. Aggravation turned into a deep-rooted desire to reach across the console, wrap my newly manicured hands around Hater's throat, and choke him.

Let me repeat: Hater and I are NOT a couple. Hater and I belong together like breasts belong on the back of a horse's ass.

This story is the epitome of hate. Hating at it's best. So, let me implore you: Haters, do not bring your hatetastic ways into the new year. It's really unbecomming. Spread love, not hate. Heal don't hurt. Hug, don't kick. Smile, don't frown. Throw petals of roses, not granules of salt.