Tuesday, November 9, 2010

the top three

i had one of the top three craziest nights of boyfriend drama i have ever had in my life on saturday night. now, to be fair to my definition of my "top three", i must explain that more or less, my top three are equal to each other in certain ways, and are filed exclusively to topic headings like, "top three best chick flicks" and "top three favorite salts". i have a plethora on the hard drive in my brain, so even though some might seem similar, they are quite contained to the individual headings.

my "top three craziest nights of boyfriend drama" in the past, however, has usually just been exclusive to MY current boyfriends. saturday night actually didn't have anything to do with my boyfriend, because i don't have one anymore. i have an ex-boyfriend, and he did add to the drama, but only after i could go through two of my girlfriend's boyfriend drama first. so technically, saturday night should be filed under "top three craziest nights of drama from men i don't want to sleep or argue with and from a man who didn't quite try hard enough but still made me feel bad about breaking up with him".

i think i'm going to rename that file "topthree_ex/altboyfriend_drama.exe" in my mental processor. i can save some memory room for things i should actually think about.

it began at work, which puts me in a bad mood immediately because for some odd reason, people still want to drink frozen kiwi margaritas and mojitos, even though it's a windy 42 degrees outside. this is the season for mulled cider and hot toddies, both of which i can make. but what would make less sense in cold weather than to have a hot drink? so i spend seven hours at the service bar cranking out what looks like cocktails for the beach party upstairs and re-stocking everything the waif of a bartender couldn't reach or lift from the morning shift. i clean all of the sticky, margarita stained countertops and steel from the frozen machines until the bleach stings my skin, and count my drawer, near crying at having to put all of the money back into the drop bag.

i could never be a banker. i would be so, so depressed all the time.

anyway, as i'm regretfully zipping the bank bag, i get a phone call from my dear friend erin asking me to guess who just showed up at her doorstep?!? now, i'm not really one for these kind of games, because in actuality, it could be absolutely anyone, from barack obama to a psychotic ex-con who wants to draw you after he does an eight-ball of coke.

guess which one happened to me?

so i guessed her ex-boyfriend, because he's been doing that lately. she had found out he made out with some other chick (actually, she found out from me) and she told him she wanted to take some time away from him. in fact, the night before he had shown up at her doorstep and threw a bag of bacon at her, screaming, "i got you bacon instead of flowers cause i know how much you love bacon but you're a complete and total bitch!!!"

so, i'm no expert on this type of thing, cause i can't even seem to hold down a decent, responsible, and stable relationship. but i'm pretty sure playing faceball with a bag of fried pork is not the way to go when it comes to proving your love and sensitivity.

actually, it was our good friend rachel, who is dating one of erin and my (now) exes best friends. and she's drunk. and pissed off at all three of them. sighing, i hailed a cab and went to erin's apartment. i knew in the back of my mind that nothing good was about to become of this night, and sadly, i was exactly right.

macri park, 12:45 am.
we walk in, get three shots of jack and three buds. go outside to smoke cigarettes and bitch about manginas. a guy tries to sly his way into conversation (which is dumb, buddy, cause if you hear a woman say, "god, men are such PUSSIES!!!" you would think you may want to find another group of girls to hit on), and promptly gets shot down by rachel, who by this time is having a resurgence of her previously waning drunkenness, and the two begin to bicker. we all go back inside and proceed to do another shot of jack and finish our beers, and when i come out of the bathroom afterwards, rachel and the dumbass are in another heated argument. i tell the guy to stop being a dick and let it go, and we all leave, arm in arm.

barcade, 1:27 am.
i realize it is 1:27 am because i look down and remark, "holy shit! it's 1:27 am! it feels like ten o'clock!" three more shots and two more beers later, we are sitting at a table and making fun of a guy who is sitting with us but is so engrossed in his text conversation he doesn't realize we're even there, much less making fun of him. his friend comes over, and they actually are decent guys who can hold a decent conversation. erin tells me to go call her (now ex) boyfriend. i say no, that's probably a bad idea, seeing that he just told her she should date me because we spend so much time together anyway. finally i relent, and it was a bad idea. now her (ex) boyfriend is mad at me and her, and she gets upset and goes to the bathroom to call him. i get another shot of whiskey.

barcade, 2:30 am.
i literally can't believe it's only been an hour since we walked into barcade. erin's in the bathroom crying, rachel is bitching drunkenly about her boyfriend, and my whiskey is gone again. erin hysterically comes back from the bathroom saying that he broke up with her and i call a time out for a cigarette. hail a cab for rachel, tell her to go back to meet jason at their apartment in greenpointe. hold erin's hair back as she pukes on the sidewalk. get a call from rachel's boyfriend screaming at me that i did something to his girlfriend, they got in a fight, and now she's roaming the streets of greenpointe drunk. says i was the last one that rachel saw which is why they got in an argument (which actually, isn't true, because technically he was the last one rachel saw and he provoked her earlier which is why she was pissed in the first place, but, hah, technicalities i guess). says he will break my kneecaps if i don't get my ass to greenpointe and help him look for her. i hang up on him. i get a phone call from my ex saying he's dealing with the same shit with the other two guys. says he would like to see me, if i would want to. i say i will call him if it seems plausible.

lorimer st, 3:50 am.
i finally manage to get erin's face dry, and convince her it's best she not go to huckleberry bar, where the exes are, but instead go home and get some sleep. once she's safely inside her apartment, i call my ex.

huckleberry bar, 4:10 am.
see everyone on the street. tell erin's ex he should reconsider giving up on the relationship, that she truly loves him. he responds in slurs, he is currently shitfaced. tell them i just got threatened with kneecap death, my ex calls rachael's ex, she picks up, says that everything is fine. i take his phone, go inside the closed bar to get the last drink of the night (which turns out, i only had enough time to take a sip of considering what was about to happen), make a u-turn to use the restroom.

the bathroom of huckleberry bar, 4:17 am.
as i'm getting off the ex's phone, i try to exit out of the phone call and instead got into the text inbox, showing conversations mostly from me, but one caught my eye at the bottom. on closer evaluation of what was about to happen, i guess maybe i shouldn't have read his shit, but then again, maybe he should have erased all of it. some people just don't know how to cover their tracks. i end up reading several different text messages from several different girls, which left me with steam coming out of my ears.
not because he hooked up with another chick, and not even for not coming clean about hooking up with another chick when i know for a fact that they did more than just "kiss on the couch". please. this ain't my first rodeo, honey.
i'm angry because about ten days before, he found out that while we were broken up, i had a drunken one-night stand, with someone i don't talk to or care about, because some guy paid attention to me and complimented me and made me feel worth it, which didn't happen all that much while the ex and i were together. so yeah, i had a disposable night of confidence, and washed my hands of it in the morning.
sometimes, the best way to get over someone, is to get under someone else. we've all been there.
but don't you dare berate me for it, and walk around on this golden pedestal, when you've been doing the SAME EXACT THING, even if it's not physical. don't form actual relationships with these girls and get mad at me for one night of carnal flamboyancy. that doesn't set well with me, especially when i apologize for something i don't think i need to apologize about.

the bar at huckleberry bar, 4:20 am.
i take a small sip of my jack daniels, and sit for one second before turning to him and directly asking about some girl's name i saw on the messages. he immediately freezes up, and i shake my head and tell him i'm leaving. pick up my purse and walk down the stairs, only to realize the gate has been locked over the door.

service doorway, apt. building next to huckleberry bar, 4:30 am.
for the last ten minutes i have been trying to get past the ex, and i'm currently screaming at him at the bottom of the stairs to let me go. finally he does, and in a last ditch effort tries to follow me down the street, but i don't turn around.
i was done for the night. i couldn't take any more stupid guy bullshit drama. i just wanted to be home.

my apt, 4:47 am.
get into the doorway and throw my things down. grab a glass of water and take a hit off the bowl. laugh to myself about everything that just happened, and realized why i didn't want to be in a relationship in the first place, because i end up caring too much about the relationship and not enough about my own sanity. it's five o'clock in the morning and i'm so hopped up on adrenaline my brain might actually explode if i tried to go to bed. which means when i finally do go to bed, it will be pointless because i'm not going to end up sleeping well, i will probably sleep in until three, and be completely unproductive and angry at myself. it's a vicious cycle and i hate doing it.

so i didn't. i ended up going to house of yes, where there was a dance party going on with all my friends. i danced it out until 7 and went home exhausted and much, much happier.

so that was my crazy drama night. i'm not wanting to ever add to this list agin, which means i may be single for the rest of my life, but at least i'll be sane. i have no desire to cater to someone's needs like that, while i lose my own. and i may sound bitter, but i'd like to think that actually equates to wisdom in these situations.

it also kind of sound like i'm jaded, too, but i think i'll just stick with calling it wisdom. it sounds much more eloquent and graceful that way.


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