Come and prove that you ain't no bottle poppin' girl
DABA Girl #1: “Alright this sabbatical of yours has gone on long enough missy. Frankly, it’s selfish. As my emergency contact I need you within a 10-mile radius of me at all time. What use are you to me holed up in San Francisco?
DABA Girl #2: I’m busy dealing with my posttraumatic stress. My Prince Charming turned out to be a Prince Harming and I’m pretty sure the “it’s not me, it’s the recession” excuse has been played out. Either this blog has rendered me fundamentally unable to have a functional relationship or something actually is wrong with me… Is it my hips?
DABA Girl #1: Did you just quote Clueless?
DABA Girl #2: Yes and I still maintain that it is a cinematic masterpiece. It’s so deep. I mean, I would be much more social if my going out clothes weren’t so constricting.
DABA Girl #1: Home girl, you need to hightail it back to The Big Apple before all the good guys are taken. Do you want a repeat of the winter of ’05?
DABA Girl #2: That was my first winter on the East Coast! How was I to know that: (a) a boyfriend was necessary during the winter to ward off seasonal depression and (b) all the good ones are on lockdown by Thanksgiving?
DABA Girl #1: I know, I know I blame myself for not giving you a heads on that one, which is why if you will just agree to get on a plane back to NYC I will have dates lined up and waiting for you. Refresh me of your requirements: min 6′1”, EA*, appreciates California (whatever that means), orders his steak more rare than medium… what else?
DABA Girl #2: Prefers Picasso to Dali and knows my sizing in La Perla.
DABA Girl #1: What happened to Ivy League educated and former D1 athlete?
DABA Girl #2: Dude, I can’t be too picky. Thanksgiving is a mere two months away. Still, worst comes to worst I’ll just move back to San Francisco.
DABA Girl #1: Oh no you didn’t! We’re in this together my friend. ‘Til death do us part. And referring to me as “dude” only makes me resent California that much more.
DABA Girl #2: Don’t you mean ’til one of us gets married do us part?
DABA Girl #1: Marriage, death, same thing.
DABA Girl #2: You have a point, albeit a dramatic one. I mean marriage is fine for a Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy, but in real life there is something cheesy about all that fanfare.
DABA Girl #1: Exactly. Marriage is archaic. I’m over it. You’re stuck with me and therefore must faithfully fulfill your duties as my emergency contact.
DABA Girl #2: Fine, but I want a line of suitors literally waiting outside my door when I make my triumphant return.
DABA Girl #1: Done.
DABA Girl #2: and AND please brief them ahead of time that I require an actual phone call and under no circumstances should I be asked on a date via text message.
DABA Girl #1: What happened to not being too picky?
DABA Girl #2: A DABA Girl still has priorities.
DABA Girl #1: Okay well be sure and make the above event a priority because b t dubs, you’re hosting it with me.
*note latest DABA vocab word: EA=emotionally available
