Tuesday, December 06, 2005



On Thursday, after my marathon day at work, I met my roommate and her friend for a drink. When I got there, the boy I'm in love with turned out to be there as well. He seemed really down, and most especially down on himself. I had been pretty sure there was a girl in the picture (and had some educated stalking guesses as to who she was), so that seemed a little strange. He asked me to go outside for a cigarette and more or less revealed that he had gotten rejected. Later, he elaborated that he had gone out with her and some other friends the night before and she had gone home with one of his male friends. He felt snubbed and unattractive. And I, horrible little brat that I am, totally rejoiced that she was out of the picture.
Well, Saturday night, the boy and I had plans to hang out. When he called in the afternoon to figure out what we were going to do, he seemed all halfway ready to bail and "nothing sounds good", and I got really really mad at him. We did end up going out, and (this part is my fault) at my insistence, he took me to one of his cool kid bars on the east side, in Chinatown.
When we were there, he told me that it had all been a misunderstanding and that though the girl had left with his friend she didn't really LEAVE with his friend, and that she still liked him. Great. Then he saw the guy that she had left with, a guy named Joe, across the room, and pointed him out to me. Great. I don't like this people to be real and in person; I prefer to think of them as fictional constructs. Anyway, though, the boy didn't much want to talk to Joe anyway, so we decided to go to a different part of the bar. Meanwhile, the boy revealed that he KNEW the girl still liked him since she had asked him to go to a party with her. Wham. Of course. The reason he was trying to bail on me. Even though I knew, I asked him when the party was, and he said it was that night. So fricking predictable.
We decided to go outside for a cigarette, but I had to pee first. When I left the ladies', he was standing right there waiting for me, and for a split second, I thought, "wow, what a good boy". Then I realized he was talking to someone, talking to a girl. She looked vaguely familiar, but she wasn't someone I knew from my stalking. Well, I go up to them, and he introduces me, then HANDS ME THE CIGARETTES so I can go outside and smoke while he stays and talks to her. That's when I knew I was in trouble.
By the time he came outside and was all, "that was her," I was halfway ready for it. But it still stung like a motherfucker. I called my roommate and asked her to come and kill me. She came, but only for moral support, not to kill me. The girl never came back over to us again, as the boy noted, much to his chagrin, she probably thought I was his (oh the horror) date. He said it is okay, though, he'll just work the jealousy angle. Awesome.
The thing is, after that point, as much as I was still reeling, and I drank WAY too much to compensate, we really did have a pretty fun time. We joked, he showed me he wasn't wearing any underwear, my roommate showed, and even she was in good spirits.
Then it came time to drive home. And I was a drunker driver than I should have been. I went back to the boy's house and we had McDonald's. He said he really thought I should stay over, and that I could sleep on the couch. I was considering it, but then he added, "or you can just go knock on Michael's door. He won't turn you away." And I was so mad, so furious, I couldn't stay there a minute longer.
He tried to convince me again to stay, but I told him, in probably my scariest voice that I did not want to sleep in his house. And then I left. Always on a high note.

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