On Being a Mature Lady

A slew of events have happened recently that have proven to no one but me that I am not only one of the classiest broads I know, but also one of the most mature.

Saw GSC recently and while there was some odd eye contact exchanged, I did NOT act like a neurotic mess! I acted like my charming, and maybe a little tipsy self.
AND! I wasn't all womp womp at the end of the night. LeSigh.

I have had the opportunity to "hang out" with various suitors and I have turned them down! While having lines is extremely beneficial at times (32 is just as much of a time as 31 is), one rarely has control of the situation.

H&M guy is very cute and funny, but it's always this prolonged texting for a week to see if I wanna "hang." Plus the hangs are always good! But I had my dogs to tend to and maybe MAYBE this new boy I'm kinda/sorta seeing had something to do with it. But I'm gonna chalk it up to maturity.

Cold Pizza was my other offer. I think his name says it all. So last night after being all cool, calm and collected and saying hi an what not, he asks if I want to dance. Being a mature lady, I know where this is going.
NO I WILL NOT MAKEOUT WITH YOU.
Or dance with you.
He danced up on me anyway (gross!) and during last call I literally had to tell him that I wasn't going to go home with him. Or that I couldn't.
"Why?" he says.
WHO SAYS THESE THINGS?!?
Do you really want me to tell you why? Because you aren't very good at any aspect of hangs and AND YOU NEVER LEAVE.
Rather than being a meanie, I told him I just couldn't and RadPanda whisked me away.

Outside I chastised a guy who claimed he was 5'9" (it's on his license! It must be true!) when he was really 5'7" or 5'8".
Everything counts in large amounts.

As RadPanda and I rounded the corner to head to the corner we found this poor boy sitting by himself in the grass, clearly wasted/lost. Being mature ladies we literally talk to him like he's a little boy lost at the fair.
We offer rides.
We offer texts as his phone is about to die.
We find out he's in the circus (seriously) and that his name is Tyler.
A random guy tells him to take us up on our offer to drive him home.
He tells us he lives in Waukesha.
At that moment I made an executive decision to just let the poor bloke stay at my house. Where i knew he was too drunk/injured to rape me in my sleep.
Yes. I think about these things.

I also apologized to him for having a messy bathroom AS HE WAS VOMITING IN MY TOILET.
See?
Mature and classy.