Wednesday, June 14, 2006

more real-life drama

drinking like in the bad old days, tossing back my last bottle of chartreuse like it's water...

my quandary du jour is this: i dislike my principal lover's newly acquired auxillary but have no real veto power. my piece on the side [the yoga-y guy, who for some reason wants to go by the alias 'xavier' on my blog despite being neither bald, crippled, nor a leader of mutants] disapproves of my primary's [my drug-dealing, chain-smoking pirate, hereafter known as 'jack' -- as in "jack sparrow," or perhaps "jack daniel's" -- for narration's sake] dodgy personal hygiene but can do fuck-all about my taste in it'd be Very Hypocritical of me to prevent her from joining his harem...

see? normal people don't have to worry about shit like this.

my sunday night/monday morning could be blamed on her. goth night? her idea. i'd already done it once in february & literally passed out in my beer from boredom but that was her weekly thing & jack suggested a double date, lets-get-to-know-each-other kind of thing with me, him, her, & her asexual roomate. i had my mini i'm-no-longer-goth epiphany the second i walked into the place & although i tried to be nice & all, just her brand new bauhaus t-shirt, pre-ripped fishnets, & mall-goth pants was enough to put her permanently on my shitlist.

(the fact that she's 8 years my elder & therefore ought to know better just makes it worse. one sure way to make me simultaneously lose all respect for & get frustrated by someone is by acting like a petulant 15-year old -- especially if he or she is pushing 30. being so obviously scared of me despite outweighing me by about 40 pounds doesn't help either.

i mean, lady, you managed to quit crystal meth & raise an extremely articulate 9-year old son on your own, so you must be doing something right so why don't you act. your. fucking. age?)

at some point during the night, i offered to fight her for him...


it's around here (ie: 4-ish in the morning & halfway through my bottle of chartreuse) that i pass out from sheer boozy emo-ness. i woke up not an hour ago to an email from jack saying that she is out of the running & "no longer an issue [...] lol" (he's one of less than 5 people in the world who i'll not think less of for abusing the english language so.) so i'm posting this unfinished piece anyway just to mark the first time email made me cry.

...isn't postmodern love grand?

(& monday's self-administered ketamine overdose? that was my misguided attempt at sociability: i was conciously trying to sedate myself to put her at ease -- because there's no ego-boost like seeing your rival chemically lobotomized -- & of course i ended up in a vomit-soaked heap on her brand new hardwood floor...which probably scarred her more than mere violence would have. lol.)


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