I was just starting my Sunday Funday when I got a text from him. “You’re the worst,” is all it said. Of course I assumed he was expressing his disdain for me. How was I supposed to know he was stating the name of a television show?! In case you forgot or didn’t read my previous posts about this guy, we had a couple weeks this summer of intense dating before he dumped me after I fell asleep drunk on my toilet. I was planning on dumping him because he got on my nerves so badly but he beat me to it. So disappointing. He was surprised that I even responded to the seemingly rude text he sent me but then asked if I wanted to grab a drink with him sometime. Of course I said no and we continued exchanging messages for over two hours. He was mostly apologetic and tried to remind me of our “crazy chemistry” while I was a typical bitch, reminding him of how he dumped me and giving him all the reasons I hate him. It ended there.
Until I got bored about 4 days later…
I was watching Girlfriend’s Guide to Divorce on Netflix and doing a coding course online. My brain started to hurt so I took a Facebook and text break. I basically told him, “Drinks. tomorrow. 7:30. J9 Wine Bar. Be there.” I left out the, “Or else” but I think it was clear that it was implied. Why was I doing this when I was going to dump him anyway earlier in the summer? I ask myself why I do most things on a daily basis. I rarely have answers to this question. This time I think I was just bored. I’m like a little kid who kicks a hornet nest even though she knows it’s potentially dangerous. She just wants some excitement and to see what would happen.
I was actually really looking forward to seeing him again and I was dying for a good Manhattan. This place had them. I was expecting our usual incessant teasing of one another and then I assumed he’d start to really get on my nerves and my eyeballs would start hurting from rolling them back in my head so often and I’d cuss him out again before taking a Lyft home.
I was wrong. He was calm and not nearly as irritating as usual. The bartender came over and said it was so good to see me again and asked if I wanted my usual Manhattan up. I saw the shock and confusion on his face and admitted that I’ve taken three other dates to this place after he introduced it to me early in the summer and befriended the owner and bartender. He also had taken dates there after he dumped me but he’s not nearly as fun and personable as I am so the staff doesn’t recognize him. We exchanged stories of our dates at J9 and then headed to a dive across the street to play Pop-a-Shot. Admittedly, I am fucking awful at sports. I was a dancer and a cheerleader. Sports that involve balls are not my thing. I averaged about 10 baskets per round in this game and was wildly impressed with myself. He was pretty good but then some guys came over and wanted to play too. They might as well have been professional basketball players. They never missed.
We both decided we had embarrassed ourselves enough so we went to the back bar to watch the band. He was unusually affectionate, gently touching my hair and my neck. I enjoyed it for a second and then I got freaked the fuck out. It was bed time anyway so we left. Before going to sleep though we texted and sort of made plans to hang out again the next week just for a movie and shitty pizza at my place.
I had no idea what I was doing. My initial plan was to see him for a couple drinks, we’d fight and I’d toss a drink in his face like they do in old movies and we’d never see each other again after I stormed out angrily and he stood there, dripping in whisky and in shock. Nothing ever goes as planned in my life though. I change my path abruptly just to shock myself I think. Always looking for the next adventure. I know ahead of time that I’m just going to leave him anyway but I might as well have some fun stories in the meantime.
Swiping My Life Away 