Something Borrowed

Chapter 1

Tomorrow is my 27th birthday. The worst thing about this particular birthday is that for the first time in my life, I realize that I don't know where I'm going. My wants are simple: a job that I like and a guy I love. Unfortunately, on the eve of my 27th birthday I also realize that I am 0 for 2.

First, I am an attorney at a large New York firm. By definition this means that I am miserable. Being a lawyer just isn't what it's cracked up to be. I work excruciating hours for an asshole partner, doing mostly tedious activities and that sort of hatred for what you do for a living begins to chip away at you. So I have memorized the mantra of the law firm associate: I hate my job and will quit soon. Just as soon as I pay off my loans. Just as soon as I make next year's bonus. Just as soon as I think of something else that pays the rent. Or better yet, find someone who will pay it for me.

Which brings me to my second point: I am alone in a city of millions. I have plenty of friends, as proven by the solid turnout at my "surprise" birthday bash tonight. Friends to rollerblade with. Friends to summer with in the Hamptons. Friends to meet on a Thursday night after work for a drink or two or three. And I have Naya, my best friend from home, who is all of the above. But everybody knows that friends are not enough, although I often claim they are just to save face around my married and engaged girlfriends. I did not plan on being alone in my mid-twenties. I wanted a husband by now; I wanted to be a bride in my twenties. But I have learned that you can't just create your own timetable and will it to come true. So here I am on the brink of a new year, realizing that being alone makes my birthday daunting, and being 27 makes me feel more alone.

The situation seems all the more dismal because my oldest and best friend has a glamorous PR job and is freshly engaged. Naya is still the lucky one. I watch her now, telling a story to a group of us, including her fiancé. Trey and Naya are an exquisite couple, lean and gorgeous with matching dark hair and brown eyes. They are among New York's beautiful people. The well-groomed couple registering for fine china and crystal on the 6th floor of Bloomingdale's. You hate their smugness but can't resist staring at them when you're on the same floor searching for a not too expensive gift for the umpteenth wedding you've been invited to without a date.

"So the lesson here is: if you ask for a Brazilian bikini wax, make you sure you specify. Tell them to leave a landing strip or else you can wind up hairless, like a ten year old!" Naya finishes her bawdy tale on stage, and everybody laughs. Except Trey, who shakes his head, as if to say, what a piece of work my fiancé is.

"Okay. I'll be right back," Naya suddenly says. "Tequila shots for one and all!"

As she moves away from the group toward the bar, I think back to all of the birthdays we have celebrated together, all of the benchmarks we reached together, benchmarks that I always reached first. I got my driver's license first, could drink legally before she could. Being older, if only by a few weeks, used to be a good thing. But now our fortunes have reversed.

Naya is now leaning over the bar, flirting with the twenty something aspiring actor/bartender whom she has already told me she would "totally do" if she were single. As if Naya would ever be single. She said once in high school, 'I don't break up, I trade up." She kept her word on that, and she always did the dumping. Throughout our teenage years, college, and every day of our twenties, she has been attached to someone. Often she has more than one guy hanging around, hoping.

It occurs to me that I could hook up with the bartender. I am totally unencumbered. Haven't even been on a date in a nearly two months. But it doesn't seem like something one should do at age 27. One night stands are for college girls. Not that I would know. I have followed an orderly, goody two shoes path with no deviations. I got straight A's in high school, went to college, graduated magna cum laude, took the LSAT, went straight to law school and to a big law firm after that. No backpacking in Europe, no crazy stories, no unhealthy, lustful relationships. No secrets. No intrigue. And now it seems too late for any of that. Because that stuff would just further delay my goal of finding a husband, settling down, having children and a happy home with grass and a garage and a toaster that toasts four slices at once. So I feel unsettled about my future and somewhat regretful about my past.