To celebrate the announcement of the new job and the end of my misery here at work, Spliff took me out for martinis. The problem is, happy hour ends at 7:30, but it actually never ends there. Because the cute bartenders pour and pour and never charge full price. I know, this doesn’t sound like a dilemma, but it is. And I’ll tell you why: I can’t be expected to be coherent after two. After three I will fall down. I will forget where the car is. I will forget my own name. I will not be able to concentrate on Grey’s Anatomy and I will be bitter about it the next day. So, when we tell cute bartender, “We can only have two”, and he pours number three and says, “Oh, I paid for that one”, I am torn between kicking him (or attempting to kick him, not easy after three martinis) or kissing him. Neither of which has occurred, but I have strongly considered both. I figured that if I was coherent enough to actually kick him, then I wouldn’t have any REASON to…and if there is any kissing involved, I will let Spliff do it. I mean, seriously…she knows she wants to.
I do have to say though, Fish Head, that guy “Randy” who left a voicemail on your phone? Not a friend of mine. I went outside to call you back and you didn’t answer. He was smoking a cigarette and he asked me if he could leave the voicemail. I have no idea what he said. So, I apologize. I hope the scary man didn’t frighten you too much. I personally think he was on martini number three, if that gives you any peace of mind. But you know how those crazies love me. I can’t help it. But I try to look at it this way, one time while I was having martinis a guy basically acted like he was surprised that I could read (and knew how to correctly say Chuck Palahniuk’s name) and then told me that “we should breed”, so I think our friend Randy was pretty harmless, don’t you?
I finally spoke to L about her breakup with K. She seems to be doing pretty well considering the stress of everything. The dividing of things has started. This, in my opinion, is the hardest part. It’s the part that makes it all real. Even if you know you don’t want to be in the relationship anymore, there is no avoiding the sadness that comes with the “dividing of the things”. But you get through it, you move on, and you do it all over again with someone else, hoping that this time, it will never get to that point. Hopefully, L will wait long enough to jump back in without carrying the baggage of this relationship with her into a new one. I worry sometimes that she is too hasty…but what more can I do than try and help her get through it with martinis and nights out with the girls? Evidently, that is my role in the whole thing. Get her liquored up and listen to her when she needs me to. Damn, I am a good friend