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Is it important WHY I want to go home? Why can't it be enough that I just do? But I'm trying not to be difficult, practicing that resolution from two years ago, attempting to be a kinder, gentler me. So, I say, I'm cold and I just want to sleep in my bed. But ZuZuQ pushes and no, I don't want another drink or to hang out or to sleep at Brat the Rat's place or to continue the party.
ZuzuQ is driving and she wants to stay, I can see it in her eyes and suddenly it dawns on me that this little trip down to the shore has less to do with hanging out with Bacardi Girl then it's some desperate attempt to get in time with Brat the Rat. Because all of the sudden, the "I'm sick, I want an early night, I'm on antibiotics and can't drink" thing goes right out the window.
I should have stayed with Sin, she was celebrating her husband's birthday in Beverly Hills and I was perfectly happy, but you wanted to leave.
"Don't worry about it," I say. "I'll take a cab. Not a big deal." Cause really I'm tired and cold and bored and starting to get cranky. I want my bed and my pj's, my lamp and the Flintstones playing in the background on my TV.
"No, no," ZuzuQ insists, ultimately, after she realizes that I'm not bending. "Are you mad at me?" she asks.
I'm not, although everyone likes to believe, always angry. I just don't want to stay out any longer and it's already nearing last call and I've been up since 7.30 a.m. I've shampooed my carpets and spent an hour and a half at the gym. I've been to a birthday dinner and been dragged to two other bars before this last one. I've consumed two cocktails, two beers and a shot, all without dinner. I'm weary and PMS'ing, hanging out with people that I've never really liked and fast approaching the end of my rope.
"I'm not mad," I tell her as gently as possible. "But if you want to stay, that's fine. I'll take a cab."
She says she'll take me home. That was the plan, the agreement and I won't say it, but I don't think its fair that she wants to ditch me for a guy who's been playing her for months (and the worse part is that she knows it and complains about it, and then sets herself up for more).
ZuzuQ wants pizza and I cuddle up with Brat the Rat's spare friend outside the pizzeria. He sat down beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. Maybe it's not fair, but he's easy to lean against and I'm tired and really cold. We chit chat and I'm amazed at how much body heat he doesn't give off. I sit there with my eyes slowly blinking at the unfortunate shenanigans of girls looking for attention and try to talk him into going inside and eating, too. I'm really not hungry and I definitely don't need a babysitter. So, if he wants to eat ... because he keeps claiming that he's hungry. I can sit by myself just as comfortably as I can leaning against him. I feel like he's staking a claim, marking territory for the unattached guys looking for a last minute date to help fill up the leftover hours of the night. I'm not interested. Not in anyone or anything.
Dropping the guys off is when I start to get pissy because I'm tired of repeating myself. Tired of the questions, the why's. I've made my statement and I should have just walked out of the bar and gone to get a cab. It would have been easier.
After we drop off a slightly annoyed Spare, Brat the Rat makes an unfortunate comment.
"See, that's why we think you don't like guys," he says. As if I'm supposed to be flattered by a last minute pick-up. As if that's supposed to be enough and I'm supposed to be thankful that some guy I don't know wants to pass the time. Like he's doing ME the favor. And that's what tips the scale, but I'm still trying to reel in my temper.
"I'm tired, I'm cold and I'm on my fucking period," I say.
His stupid, typical guy response is: "I've made out with girls on their period before."
It's quiet and I think he might have realized the line he just crossed. I take a deep breath and try not to yell and not to be angry because I don't care about this guy and I hate expending energy on stupid people and I really, really, really hate loosing my temper.
But I took a deep breath and proceeded to do just that.
"I'll be fucking bleeding for the next four days," I say. "Just in case you didn't know what that means, and I don't want to be touched by anybody." And that's the truth. Probably more truth than he was expecting. Definitely more than he bargained for because then I peeled off on a tangent about how good ZuzuQ was at wasting her time on guys and how he was the biggest waste of her time.
I went off well and truly and I regret it in a teeny, bitty portion of my soul because I was being bitter and a little foolish. But I get that way sometimes. I don't care and things don't bother me until they do. Until someone drops that last hair on the pile of hay and the camel's back cracks like an egg.
ZuzuQ laughed the whole time and thought that it was awesome that I did her dirty work for her. That I was the one to tell him off and if I burned a bridge or two, then who cared.
The thing is, I like Brat the Rat. He's a nice guy, but he seems to be working really hard to be an ass. Or maybe he's an ass pretending to be a nice guy. I gave up on guys a while ago, so maybe my radar is way off.
Honest to gods, I'm done listening to ZuzuQ complain about him. From now on, I'll have to be the one to drive so that when I'm ready to go, I can just go.
ZuzuQ is driving and she wants to stay, I can see it in her eyes and suddenly it dawns on me that this little trip down to the shore has less to do with hanging out with Bacardi Girl then it's some desperate attempt to get in time with Brat the Rat. Because all of the sudden, the "I'm sick, I want an early night, I'm on antibiotics and can't drink" thing goes right out the window.
I should have stayed with Sin, she was celebrating her husband's birthday in Beverly Hills and I was perfectly happy, but you wanted to leave.
"Don't worry about it," I say. "I'll take a cab. Not a big deal." Cause really I'm tired and cold and bored and starting to get cranky. I want my bed and my pj's, my lamp and the Flintstones playing in the background on my TV.
"No, no," ZuzuQ insists, ultimately, after she realizes that I'm not bending. "Are you mad at me?" she asks.
I'm not, although everyone likes to believe, always angry. I just don't want to stay out any longer and it's already nearing last call and I've been up since 7.30 a.m. I've shampooed my carpets and spent an hour and a half at the gym. I've been to a birthday dinner and been dragged to two other bars before this last one. I've consumed two cocktails, two beers and a shot, all without dinner. I'm weary and PMS'ing, hanging out with people that I've never really liked and fast approaching the end of my rope.
"I'm not mad," I tell her as gently as possible. "But if you want to stay, that's fine. I'll take a cab."
She says she'll take me home. That was the plan, the agreement and I won't say it, but I don't think its fair that she wants to ditch me for a guy who's been playing her for months (and the worse part is that she knows it and complains about it, and then sets herself up for more).
ZuzuQ wants pizza and I cuddle up with Brat the Rat's spare friend outside the pizzeria. He sat down beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. Maybe it's not fair, but he's easy to lean against and I'm tired and really cold. We chit chat and I'm amazed at how much body heat he doesn't give off. I sit there with my eyes slowly blinking at the unfortunate shenanigans of girls looking for attention and try to talk him into going inside and eating, too. I'm really not hungry and I definitely don't need a babysitter. So, if he wants to eat ... because he keeps claiming that he's hungry. I can sit by myself just as comfortably as I can leaning against him. I feel like he's staking a claim, marking territory for the unattached guys looking for a last minute date to help fill up the leftover hours of the night. I'm not interested. Not in anyone or anything.
Dropping the guys off is when I start to get pissy because I'm tired of repeating myself. Tired of the questions, the why's. I've made my statement and I should have just walked out of the bar and gone to get a cab. It would have been easier.
After we drop off a slightly annoyed Spare, Brat the Rat makes an unfortunate comment.
"See, that's why we think you don't like guys," he says. As if I'm supposed to be flattered by a last minute pick-up. As if that's supposed to be enough and I'm supposed to be thankful that some guy I don't know wants to pass the time. Like he's doing ME the favor. And that's what tips the scale, but I'm still trying to reel in my temper.
"I'm tired, I'm cold and I'm on my fucking period," I say.
His stupid, typical guy response is: "I've made out with girls on their period before."
It's quiet and I think he might have realized the line he just crossed. I take a deep breath and try not to yell and not to be angry because I don't care about this guy and I hate expending energy on stupid people and I really, really, really hate loosing my temper.
But I took a deep breath and proceeded to do just that.
"I'll be fucking bleeding for the next four days," I say. "Just in case you didn't know what that means, and I don't want to be touched by anybody." And that's the truth. Probably more truth than he was expecting. Definitely more than he bargained for because then I peeled off on a tangent about how good ZuzuQ was at wasting her time on guys and how he was the biggest waste of her time.
I went off well and truly and I regret it in a teeny, bitty portion of my soul because I was being bitter and a little foolish. But I get that way sometimes. I don't care and things don't bother me until they do. Until someone drops that last hair on the pile of hay and the camel's back cracks like an egg.
ZuzuQ laughed the whole time and thought that it was awesome that I did her dirty work for her. That I was the one to tell him off and if I burned a bridge or two, then who cared.
The thing is, I like Brat the Rat. He's a nice guy, but he seems to be working really hard to be an ass. Or maybe he's an ass pretending to be a nice guy. I gave up on guys a while ago, so maybe my radar is way off.
Honest to gods, I'm done listening to ZuzuQ complain about him. From now on, I'll have to be the one to drive so that when I'm ready to go, I can just go.
