A Night to Forget

Friday night. One of those nights that you wish would just be erased from the timeline of history, and that every person you ran into was just as drunk as you and wishes the same thing. In my case, I'm hardly this lucky. I woke up Saturday morning wondering where I was, and was forced to ask for a recap from my friend K.S. Let me break it down for you...

It started when I made plans to go to happy hour with Biker Boy, who I hadn't seen since way before Christmas. We had decided to try and be friends, which I'm pretty sure judging from his phone conversations of the last few days really meant he was going to try and win me back. I was bent and determined that this would not happen. After all, this guy had run me around so many times I thought I must be clinically insane for continuing to speak with him. The last time before this we had spoken was three weeks after he disappeared from the planet, coming up with a probably bogus hospital story. So happy hour. I thought I could handle it, the friends thing, but I was extremely nervous, and upon seeing him realized I was not over him. At all. It didn't help that he complimented me on how beautiful my eyes were, how he liked my shirt (low-cut, on purpose. I mean, I had to let him know what he was missing out on, right? And yes, I know that's not a friend thing to do.) And although it was very cliched, I believe that he meant those things. Needless to say, I needed a very big drink, and went through 4 skinny pirates in less than an hour. Probably not the best idea. We caught up and were having a good time, until he dropped this bomb on me:

him: So all my friends are trying to set me up with people. There's this girl who is really cool and mature for her age (20), but I just don't know.

Me: you know, I don't know whether I can talk to you about this. But for the record, 20 is very young.

him: why, because you're still in love with me?

Me: who said I was ever in love with you? (look of a liar spreads across my face) anyways, don't be so arrogant.

Him: I was just kidding. This is why I like being single. You don't have to deal with the bullshit of relationships. Like if we have plans now and something comes up, we're friends so it's not a big deal. But before, you would give me the third degree.

Me: That's because you stood me up. You have no idea what it's like getting ready and being all excited about a date, only to have everything fall apart. Besides that, for the record I don't stand my friends up.

Him: I just don't want to have to answer to someone. You'd think, what with my ex cheating on me, that I would be paranoid, but I'm not. If whoever I'm dating cheats, they'll get caught. She could go out all night and I wouldn't care as long as she was coming home to me.

Me: I get what you're saying, but that kind of trust has to be earned. And you don't earn it by standing someone up the first few times you hang out.

So. I wish Biker Boy had exchanged this little tidbit of information with me when we first started dating. Might have saved some time and effort and feelings, because I don't really want to be with someone exactly like my ex (i.e. I do what I want) again. Am I wrong in thinking that a 30 year old man has no business going out and partying all night without so much as a "where have you been, honey?" to answer to? It seems like he just wants someone to walk all over, and that can't be me. Unfortunately the 4 drinks told me otherwise, and I tried to extend our happy hour, which he denied. Not sure if this was because he knew I was drunk, realized I was more complicated than what he wanted and our viewpoints were drastically different, or he was genuinely tired, but either way. We hugged, I left, and that was it. Although he did pay... Biker Boy's mixed signals just spell trouble. I needed to meet someone new, and fast.

Back at home, I was contemplating the rest of my boring evening with dread, and then I heard from an old high school friend of mine, K.S. Yay! I am not utterly pathetic spinster! I have a couple of glasses of wine, and then go out to the bar...and this is where blackout girl comes in. K.S. and I do a few shots, and a few skinny pirates later I am pretty much gone. Sequence of events:
1.) We get a pool table. Tattooed guy plays with me and K.S. and Redheaded Boy, another high school friend. Small girl, roomate of tattooed guy, tries to fight us and take over the table, claiming "this is her house, bitches." K.S. and I laugh in her face.

2.) We inexplicably stop by a house party with nothing but underage kids. I try to play flip cup and am terrible, K.S. and I are kicked off the table. I try to sit down and fall off the chair onto my face. We leave.

3) Fall again on the way down the stairs. Decide more alcohol is not the best idea. Actually, K.S. and Redhead decide.

4.) Go to another bar. Events are very blurry here. I can't even remember if I drank. Probably one, according to K.S. I run into a guy I used to go to high school with, who has lost a lot of weight. Proceed to be the girl who probably wouldn't have looked at him twice in high school, but now am infinitely fascinated with his life. Yeah, you can call me a bitch. Also talk to a Jersey boy who I can't remember whether he is good looking or not. I am handing out my number left and right. Slick, right?

5.) Dance by myself while K.S. talks to Chris Porter from Last Comic Standing. Leave, and immediately get a call from Jersey Boy claiming he wants to hang out on Saturday. Yeah, lemme tell you how many times he's called.

6.) Drop redheaded boy off. Go to Sheetz and am recognized by the little brother of a boy I used to date in high school. He's not looking the best, even to my drunken self. I still get his number. Go home with K.S. Pass out.

Needless to say, I have laid low for the rest of the weekend...