My friend Sweets is in the bridal party for his sister’s wedding next month; he asked me to be his date. He actually asked really cute, clarifying that “It won’t be one of those lame just friends dates, I fully expect you to put out” and that my duties will include “alcohol gopher, especially during pictures”. I am excited about it –I love weddings; the dressing up, the dancing, the joyous atmosphere– particularly after hearing that a few of our mutual friends will be attending as well.

“It’s going to be just like prom! Only better! Because they will be serving booze!”

“I know. I am trying to convince [mutual friends] to rent a limo … don’t know if that’s possible or if I will have obligations to the bridal party… But regardless, we’ll be drunk.”

While discussing the wedding plans with another wedding guest, Baby Cakes, last night at dinner (yes, we had a little dinner date again, it’s what we do), he confessed that he was going to ask me first. He said it with a tone … a tone almost slightly indignant, like he couldn’t believe the circumstances prevented having me as his date.

In high school, I was never the girl to be asked first to prom. I was the friend; the cute girl not the beauty; the one that was asked after the hopeful prospects were taken. I didn’t date my friends in high school, so I didn’t expect a role change just because of a dance. And I was totally fine with that role. Completely comfortable. It’s the role I usually assume even today. And I always went to prom with great dates and had a great time, probably a better time than most because I remember a lot of laughter and zero drama. Not always the case with couples.

But being picked by two guys for a dance? Even at age 25? It’s flattering as all hell. Granted, I am still being picked by friends, not dating prospects, some things never change… but that’s really the least of it. I am so fucking humbled to be picked first.

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