I recently celebrated a birthday. It was nice. I was surrounded by my friends. We all did a little dancing and drank some strong cocktails. But my lean lemon lime martini didn't mask the reality that is my life. I'm single, one year deeper into my thirties and according to my mother-my eggs are drying up. You see, I received a very loving text from Mommy Dearest right after the New Year..........
MOM: I WAS WATCHING DR. OZ TODAY. AS SOON AS YOU COME INTO SOME MONEY, YOU SHOULD FREEZE YOUR EGGS.
Thanks Mom. And what's up with Dr. Oz anyway? I think he's brainwashing the world. The last time I got a freaky Facebook message from a guy I barely knew, it was because of Dr. Oz.
FREAKY FACEBOOK GUY: DR. OZ SAYS THE AVERAGE MALE PENIS SIZE IS 5 1/2 INCHES. I GUESS I SHOULD CONSIDER MYSELF LUCKY THAT I AM 9 INCHES AND VERY THICK.
ME: UM...DID I ASK? YOU ARE GETTING DELETED.
So anyway, back to my mom. Naturally, her text message sent me into a complete tizzy. I started trying to figure out how I could get the fast cash to freeze my eggs in case I don't meet someone in the next 3-5 years who would make a halfway decent husband/baby-daddy. Maybe I could sell a few of my eggs on CraigsList? I should be able to get a pretty penny for them. I mean, I'm attractive, healthy, with a good build, college-educated with a high IQ, great head of hair and child-bearing hips.....WAIT A SECOND! There's got to be some other way. I decided to table the issue for now, because I was making myself crazy. Besides, it was almost happy hour and I always think more clearly after a drink.
Luckily, I didn't have to drink alone. My friend Karl called me and said he had an extra ticket to the Lauryn Hill concert in Downtown L.A. Karl was going with his girlfriend, Dana who I'd met a few times, and our mutual friend, Bill. I love me some Lauryn Hill so of course I said yes.
After the show, we stopped in at a cute little Cuban restaurant. As the guys searched for a table, Dana and I bellied up to the bar.
ME: So how's your little girl?
DANA: She's wonderful! Eight years old is such a great age. She's my little stylist. She won't let me walk out of the house unless she approves of what I'm wearing.
ME: That's adorable.
DANA: What about you? Do you want to have kids.
ME: Actually I do. I just haven't met the right guy yet. Maybe I'll end up adopting or something. I don't know.
DANA: Well you're still young enough to have your own child.
ME: Yeah. I know. But I'm not really meeting too many suitable candidates.
DANA: Why don't you have a baby with Karl?
(cue me spitting out my lean lemon lime martini onto the bar)
ME: Me have a baby with Karl?!
DANA: Sure!
ME: Why don't YOU have a baby with Karl? He's YOUR boyfriend.
DANA: I already have a kid. I'm in my 40's. I've been married. I've done that whole thing. But Karl hasn't yet. And he's 53 so he's not getting any younger. I think he'd make a great dad.
ME: Shouldn't you check with him first before offering his sperm?
DANA: He'd do it. We were going to give some to our lesbian friends who wanted a baby.
ME: I think I'm okay for now. But thank you. I think.
DANA: OK. Have it your way. But it's here if you want it.
ME: Bartender? Another drink please!
DANA: What kind of guy are you looking for? You should date a Jewish man. They make great fathers and husbands.
ME: Well I'm a Christian and I'd prefer to marry someone who's also a Christian. But I'm not completely opposed to dating a Jewish guy. I like Jews. I mean-I like you and Karl, don't I?
(in my head: Was that racist?)
DANA: Oh look. The guys got us a table. Grab your drink!
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