Monday, December 1, 2014

A series of bad decisions

I had a fight with a friend. She pushed and pushed and then destroyed something I'd been planning and looking forward to. And when I called her on it, I'm suddenly the bad guy. We spent most of a Saturday in a vicious cycle where I tried to explain why I was hurt. She claimed I was overreacting. I'd leave my phone alone. She'd ask a question. I'd try to explain my side and she'd shut me down. Super healthy and productive. I spent a the day alternating between angry tears and sad tears. I called my mom to talk and even she was on my side, which is huge because I really think there is a portion of my mom that loooooves to find fault with me.

But it was a Saturday. A child-free Saturday for me. And since this (ex?)friend had torpedoed my plans, I was without a date or anything to do. But I'd be damned if I wasted a child free Saturday night sitting around crying about her anymore.

I put on my "Bad Bitch" playlist, hopped in the shower, did my hair and make up, put on something cute and headed to a bar. I freaking love this bar. I have a 100% success rate of being hit on at this bar alone. I never get approached anywhere else, but something about this bar makes it happen. I think because its a janky place and in comparison, I look like a supermodel and even though about 80% of the guys in this place are a "hard pass," I'll take it. Especially on this shitshow of a day, I needed to feel pretty.

So I'm sitting at the bar, nursing a cider. The guy next to me is easily 10+ years older and we start talking football. I sing a few songs of karaoke. I talk some more with the older guy next to me. Mike? Sure, Mike. Mike and I talk about football and then he decides he should do a shot and asks what kind he should do. I have no opinion on the matter and tell Mike that. I go up to sing a song, "Just a Girl" by No Doubt. When I come back to my seat, Mike has a shot for him and a shot for me. I didn't realize I was part of this equation, but ok, sure. I take the shot. Fireball. Gross. But I thank him of course. Mike is at the bar with two other friends, one male, one female and they seem to be a couple. So about half the time he's talking with them. And I'm fine with this whole situation because my only goal for the night was to get out of the house and look cute. Mission Accomplished.

Some other guy, 60+ for sure, asks me to come sing a duet with him. "Love Shack" by the B-52s. We kill it. When I come back to my seat. Mike has bought me another cider. Well this is getting weird. I feel like I should decline but the drink is already here and I though I'm uncomfortable, I can't figure out a way out of this. Mike starts up our conversation again and starts putting his hand on the small of my back and my thigh. No thank you. Do not want.

But I suck and have no idea how to extricate myself from this and its probably all my fault because I let him buy me a shot and a drink. Fuck.

I'd been on my phone off and on through the night chatting on OKCupid with Aaron. Aaron was out and about and down to meet so I convince him to come meet me at this bar. I tell Aaron that when he arrives, he needs to act like he knows me. I tell him what I'm wearing and instruct him to come up and hug me and act like we are old friends and this is a coincidental run-in to help me get away from Mike.

Aaron shows up and plays his role perfectly. He's not that cute but he's good enough and I'm beyond thankful that he's willing to help me out like this. I'm at least 3 drinks in, so my acting probably isn't great but I really try to sell Mike on the idea that this is a crazy coincidence and Aaron and I are old friends. I don't really care if he believes me but he seems to back off. Thank you Aaron.

Aaron and I sing a duet or two and I offer to drive him home. He lives not too far and had to take the bus here to meet me and I owe him for bailing me out. He directs me to his house, not 5 minutes away and invites me in. The house is disgusting. There are pizza boxes and pet hair everywhere. Its like nasty college living, but where no one ever got fed up and cleaned a little or took the trash out.

But I owe this guy so we sit down on the couch and he puts on Galaxy Quest because I said I'd never seen it and he feels this must be rectified, immediately. As I sit on this disgusting couch, mostly tipsy, I reflect on all the stupid decisions I've made today that led to this point. And I was scared to turn down Mike, but I really don't know Aaron any better. I feel like one of those girls that if I were to be raped and/or murdered, Nancy Grace et. al. would say I had it coming.

I was so tired, and I must have looked it. Aaron offers me his bed and tells me he'll sleep on the couch. All of the sudden, there is nothing in the world I want more than to be home. In my own bed. In my own clean sheets. I decline Aaron's generous offer, thank him profusely for rescuing me at the bar, hop in my car and get my ass home.

I make it as far as the entryway before I just lay down on the floor and sob. What the fuck is wrong with me? Its like the hole in my heart when my Kiddo is with the ex, when my parents are out of town, when my friends aren't around, that I have to fill my time with something. And that something is usually bad choices and alcohol. Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I text David because I really can't stop making horrible choices.

No comments:

Post a Comment