Fright Night

Freak Mama, Sca and I spend the day decorating and getting ready for the party. People start arriving in various outfits and stages of inebriation. I drink too much and show my boobs too much. It’s a disease. I get drunk and think the world deserves to see my tits. I’m thinking someday I may grow out of it but who knows. We take pictures of everyone who walks in the door. Some people don’t dress up but some are looking awesome. We have flappers, pimps, French maids, dead rock stars, reality junkie rap stars, cheerleaders, wizard of oz characters, vampires, William Wallace, gangsta’s, Flinstone’s, Hawaiian girls and many more. A lot of people show up but not MOB. Most of his friends came but not him. And he didn’t answer his phone when I called it. But he did call Stubby and tell him he had to leave town and wouldn’t make it. What an asshole.

I continue to drink through the night. I do countless body shots and my neck is caked in a coating of dried Hershey’s syrup. I prove everyone that yes, it’s true, my boobs are so big that I can lick my own nipple. Mom would be so proud. I wake up on the living room floor at seven in the morning, still fully dressed, tucked between CC, Ruby, Stubby, and a couple others. Dorothy and Crazy James are still in the garage yapping away. I’m freezing my ass off and head upstairs to bed. What a night.

Just as I strip down and crawl into bed there is a knock on my door. Stubby is saying goodbye. I tell him he can’t leave yet. I tell him to come cuddle with me for a minute. He pulls back the covers and laughs. “You’re naked.” I’m aware of this. “Who cares? We’re friends! Get in and cuddle with me!” Like a good friend Stubby does what he is told. That’s why I love that guy.

That's My Girl

Picked up Sca from the airport. So good to see her. She’s excited to finally meet all the people I’m always telling her about. We head to the bar to drink and play darts with Freak Mama, Piano Boy, Crazy James and others. We have a blast. We’re getting hammered. She’s loving my spot and my friends and vice versa. And then MOB walks in. She’s very skeptical of him. Not a fan by any means. He buys me a rose. He’s acting sweet as pie. He’s trying to charm her the best he can. She’s too smart for his bullshit. He talks about how he's so excited for my party the next night. And even tells Sca how it was exactly one year ago that we met.

The bar shuts down and we all walk out. MOB says he is coming over as we leave. But when we get to the parking lot I see Old Friend and another girl waiting by his car. The tension is thick. He gives me a look as if to say “she’s just my friend”. Unfortunately, so are we. He says he’ll be over in a minute. He’s just gonna see what she wants. Sca and I head home and I know he won’t show up. And I’m right.

Let's Put The Ex In Sex

Prince calls. He needs to borrow a hat to finalize his Halloween costume. He comes down after work. We have dinner. We talk for a bit. We smoke cigarettes and stare at each other. I know what he wants to do. He’s been trying to sleep with me again since the day we broke up. It’s been seven months since we fooled around. I glance at his jeans and am thoroughly convince he wants to fool around. For a split second my mind slips back to the way we used to fuck. It was great. He was huge. I once made him show my friend Mary Poppins at a party because I couldn’t explain how big it was and knew she didn’t fully believe me. (Needless to say her jaw hit the floor when he whipped it out and it wasn’t even fully erect). Some may find it odd to make your friend look at your boyfriend’s manly member but we found it to be educational. Oh the sweet memories. Soon, we are in my bed making another one. And it’s just as good as I remembered it to be.

As we’re lying there afterward Freak Mama begins blowing up my phone. I was supposed to meet her at the bar and bring her a shirt. I’m late. Prince offers to drive me there. I warn him it’s not really the type of place that his preppy ass is going to enjoy. He tells me that he’s changed, let loose a little and that he’ll be fine. He’s a terrible liar.

We go to the bar for one drink and take Freak Mama her shirt. Prince is obviously uncomfortable so we take off. As we’re walking out the door who should appear but MOB. He gives me a quick hug and gives Prince a once over. Prince and I leave. As I’m dropping him off at his car my cell phone starts ringing. It’s MOB. He wants to know why I left and who that guy I was with was. He asks me to come back up to the bar. I had a little gift for him so I did. I gave him his gift and he totally freaked out. He loved it! Nearly knocked me over hugging me so hard. We played darts and drank until the bar closed. We then went out for breakfast. It was great until crazy baby mama started calling repeatedly.

I got home and my roommate NYC was so stoned! She was sitting on the floor eating 6 pieces of toast. I was drunk, she was high, so we giggled and ate cheese and bitched about men. She warned me to stay away from MOB. Nobody likes him.

You've Got A Friend (James Taylor-1971)

I’m having a Halloween party in a few days and people are dropping like flies. At least all my old school friends are. These are the people from the old neighborhood. Those who consider themselves, perhaps, “above” the type of people I hang out with since I moved. But I can’t help it. My new friends know how to have a good time. My old friends are acting like they’re already wearing Depends and love the taste of Fixadent. Anyhoo, they’re not looking to fill my guest list very well. I call Sca who is an old school, old school friend. College roommate and one of my favorite people in the world. Sure she still lives back home (2000 miles away) but we stay close because that’s what cool bitches like us do. So I spend my morning whining about how my friends from the old neighborhood suck. By afternoon Sca has booked a $400 plane ticket to come see me for the weekend and help me rock the party. Words cannot express how much I love this woman. After college she had a brief run as a bi-sexual/lesbian. I swear if I ever went dyke, she would be the one I’d go for, even though she’s not a practicing lesbian anymore.

Singing In The Rain

Today is a bummer. It’s cold and rainy. DG is constantly texting me and calling me. MOB calls and IM’s me throughout the day. My ex, Prince, is calling and stressing me out about the upcoming Halloween party. We’re still friends but he’s still a bit of the jealous type and wants to make sure none of my new loves will be there. I just don’t have the energy to have this conversation again. Whereas Prince and I are still close, I just can’t deal with his insecurities and jealousy issues. I decide I need Ronnie. We make dinner plans. By the time I get off work and head to his house it’s like Typhoon Terry outside. We drive to the restaurant where there is no parking and run two blocks, rain slapping our cheeks. By the time we get inside we are drenched but feeling better already. By the end of dinner I am smiling and laughing. Ronnie calms me.

That Orphan Annie Was Right

today she is angry.
she doesn't know why.
just one of those days that didn't go her way.
she knows she is blessed and lucky and loved
she should suck it up and smile.
but once in awhile she can't.
hasn't she earned that?
she's faked her smiles so many days
sometimes she thought her little plastic lips would fall off.
she has no words of encouragement.
she has no energy.
she is not herself today and she wonders, isn't that ok?
can i have an off day?
can i be bitter and solemn and lazy and selfish?
she decides she will, just for a moment, to see how it feels.
she whines outloud. she wishes she could cry.
but it doesn't feel right.
it just makes her head hurt.
and she thinks about the wrinkles around her lips
and on her forehead if she frowns
and decides against it.
then the phone rings. it's him.
usually it would make her giddy with delight.
he senses by her tone she is not happy.
what can he do to make it better?
and it makes her even more upset because there is nothing.
he's at work. out of town. preparing for a weekend with the boys.
he can't make it better for two weeks.
he tells her he misses her and to be good.
he has no idea she will see another saturday night.
he has no idea she has another on her mind everyday.
and when she hangs up the phone, she feels guilt.
she is overwhelmed by feelings of betrayal.
but why? she never promised him anything.
but he thinks he has her heart
and she never corrected him and told him otherwise.
she figured it was easier that way. and she didn't want to upset him.
so instead she sits alone on the deck, staring off into the night,
watching her cigarette burn slowly, just like her day,
wasting away into ashes that blow into the wind.
and with that, she doesn't have the energy to be angry anymore.
she just drags herself to bed,
knowing that if she closes her eyes and drifts off to dream,
things will be better in the morning. it always is.
that odd looking red headed orphan was right.
the sun will come out...whether she's ready for it or not.
so she might as well suck it up and make the best of it,
as she always does, because that's just who she is these days.
when she's not happy, neither are the people around her.
so it's her duty to stay happy so that their worlds don't get wacked off track.
and in the morning she'll call him back and wish him a wonderful day
and tell him how much she truly does miss him too.
and she can't wait to see him again.
he doesn't have to know he doesn't have her whole heart.
perhaps just a part of it is all he needs right now.
or so we hope, because that's all she can give.

Passion Party This, Wench

To the bar with my friends Dorothy, Stubby and a few others. There is a DJ. I’m at the end of the bar drinking. Old Friend gets up between songs and grabs the mic. She is hosting a “Passion Party”. It’s like a Tupperware party but dirty, sexual toys. I watched amused from the back. Dorothy hands me a catalog. Stubby and I joke about ordering the $300 leather saddle/ceiling swing. After Old Friends little presentation she makes her way around the bar picking up catalogs and passing out her information. Freak Mama tells her that she wants to host a party. Old Friends eyes fall on me and she asks if I want to order anything. I tell her I don’t think she’d appreciate who I would use it on. Yes, this is a lie but it feels good nonetheless and shuts her up with a huff and a puff.

I Can't Hear You

Not returning DG’s calls or text messages. He’s graveling. I could care less.

I head to the bar with Freak Mama and Slut. The night is kind of a bore. MOB shows up and feeds me some story about his mom being sick again. I feel bad for him but that’s the extent of it.

Doggie Style Gives Me A Hangover

7 AM
I wake early the next morning with a throbbing in my head like the USC Marching Band drum line is having its way with me. I sit up and check to make sure that I’m just imagining that there is a javelin sticking through my temple. The pain is real but the javelin is not. I need some aspirin, Gatorade and more sleep. Just as I finish my scavenger hunt and lie back down, my sister calls. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” she asks when I answer. “Doggie style gives me a hangover.” She laughs. “Well don’t let him bang your head into the wall.” The cleverest thing I can come up with is a hoarse “Fuck you.” She asks if I’m still going to Ronnie’s party tonight. Of course I am. “Are you taking DG?” A momentarily whirlwind of activity encompasses my brain. “Shit. I think I invited FB too.” I try to convince her (and myself) that this can all work out. DG will be my actual date. FB and I are just friends anyway. Sister laughs. “Please tell me you are not stupid enough to even consider taking your new boyfriend AND fake boyfriend to a party at your ex-boyfriends house!” I admit that when you say it like that it doesn’t sound like the best plan.

11 AM
DG calls with worse news. He was on his way to my house to see me when the engine in his car blew. Now he is more broke, more angry and more demoralized. I do not have the energy to tell him how to fix the situation or point out the light at the end of the tunnel. I try but I suck at it this morning. He says he’s not sure what will happen with tonight. I perk. My answer just fell into my lap. I tell him that of course I’d love for him to go but I understand if he’s not feeling up to it and not to worry, there will be other parties. He promises to call me in a few hours and let me know either way if he can make it. *note the either way, yes or no, yeah or nay part. It’ll come in handy in a few hours.

9 PM
No word from DG or FB. I had left FB a message and told him we’d be leaving at 9’ish and to let me know if he wanted to come to my house or if I should pick him up on the way. Freak Mama, my roommate Teach and my friend Luk jump in the car and head to the party. I try calling FB one more time but he doesn’t answer. We head to Ronnie’s party.

11 PM
I try calling FB and he doesn’t answer. I try calling DG and he doesn’t answer. I’m pissed at both of them right now for not having the common courtesy to tell me they weren’t coming. Not that there isn’t plenty of things to entertain me at the party but it’s the principal of it all.

A certain WB actor shows up. He smiles and taps me on the nose with his finger and I figure I better acknowledge the fact that the last time we saw each other we had a guitar jam in one of the bedrooms where we supposedly made out. (At the time I did not recognize him. But my friends made sure to fill me in the next day.) I smile at him although the nose tap may be the lamest thing I’ve ever endured. “Are we going to sing Jesse’s girl later?” I ask. He winks. “You remember that? God, it was fun.” I smile back. “No, but my friends told me the next day.” It dawns on me that I may have offended him by not remembering. “Well, maybe we’ll have an encore later.” I shrug. “Maybe.” He walks away.

Baby Girl shows up with some friends. I see E (the guy who sent me the penis pics) get out of the jeep. Dear, Lord. Then I see a girl climb out behind him and take his hand. And soon I am introduced to his girlfriend. I tell Freak Mama about it when I go back inside. I’m laughing at what a loser he is. She asks if I still have the pictures on my phone. Unfortunately, I do. Evil thoughts take over our brains. I could nonchalantly ask his girlfriend if she recognizes it…Nah! I’m having too good of a time and as long as E doesn’t approach me, I don’t feel like getting him in trouble.

1 AM
It’s pouring rain and for some reason our drunks asses are standing outside and watching two girls wrestle in a pool of jell-o. One of which is Slow Skank. Slow Skank went out with Ronnie after I did, then broke his heart. She is an evil specimen of a person and I hate her. She just happened to be in town for two weeks and graced us with her presence at the party. Yippidy-fucking-doo. Baby Girl decides she wants to wrestle too and strips down to her tank top and g-string before jumping in the Jell-o pool. I laugh so hard I nearly piss my pants.

I finally get Baby Girl out of the jello pool and into the shower. There is a barrage of knocks on the door. I keep opening it and telling the people to use the other bathroom. One of the people is the guy that Baby Girl was wrestling. He begs to come in and I can’t stop looking at his six pack covered in raspberry jell-o and a pair of wet boxer shorts. Baby Girl tells him to come on in. They hop into the shower together. I turn away some other people. The next knock is E. He says he’s gonna pee his pants. I tell him that’s too bad. He yells for Baby Girl to let him in. She tells me it’s okay if he doesn’t look. He comes in and pees. I can’t help but glance over to see if that penis actually matches the picture. Holy Gajeebies! It does. He asks me to help him. I tell him he’s an ass. He finishes and makes his way to me, backing me up against the door, neglecting to put his member away. It thumps against my leg. “I don’t think your girlfriend would be very happy about this.” He tries to kiss me and I move my head to the side. “What’s wrong?” I inform him that there are three factors to this:

1. We are in a bathroom and two people are in a shower two feet away from us.
2. He has a girlfriend that is outside this door somewhere that he neglected to tell me about the other night when he was hitting on me at the bar.
3. He sent me pictures of his dick and it freaked me out.

He defends himself by saying:

1. They’re naked in a shower together, they won’t even notice us here.
2. I didn’t ask him if he had a girlfriend. I asked if he had a baby mama, a wife or if he lived with someone. He does not have any of the above and therefore answered truthfully and that if I would’ve asked him directly if he had a girlfriend he would’ve told me he did. But as a man he still has needs to fulfill and she can’t always do it.
3. He sent me the pictures as a preview of the fun times that the three of us (him, his inches of fun and myself) were going to have together.

I grab his member, which is still up against my leg. He smiles; stupid enough to think he’s made a valid case for himself. I squeeze it just a bit harder than he finds comfortable. “Go find your girlfriend and do something nice for her or I’m gonna show her the pictures on my phone.” I shove it back in his pants for him and walk out.

3 AM
My phone rings. I look at the caller ID and do a double take. It’s Kisser. I haven’t heard from kisser in months. We went out a couple times (while MOB and I were on an earlier break) and had some of the best conversations and fun times ever. About a month in he had dicked me over. Stopped returning my calls and emails. Totally just cut me off. I was hurt and not sure how to react so I sent him the following email. (Which I still think is fucking brilliant)
Kisser- please be so kind as to fill this out and send it back to me. Don't worry, it'll just take 30 seconds.

Dear MyNameHere,
I realize that you probably have no idea what's going on since when I left your house Friday morning I told you I would call that day and acted like everything was fine. I'm sorry that I decided to ignore you for the last week but you pissed me off when you __________________. I am no longer talking to you because _____________________. I think ________________. Thanks anyway for the fun conversations and the times we hung out and for showing me that I can lose in darts if the wind blows right. Have a great life. No hard feelings.
Sincerely,
Kisser

He never had the balls to write back. But a couple weeks later I got a drunken apology call about how he couldn’t get me off his mind and he was so sorry and he didn’t know why he acted like an asshole. Things were going so well he just freaked out. And he didn’t expect me to ever forgive him but he wanted me to know how much I meant to him and so on. I caved. He came over. He mentions how brilliant my letter was (as if I didn’t know). We had make-up sex. The next morning he left like everything was fine. I hadn’t heard from him since. And now he was calling me? Oh, I don’t think so.

He says he was an asshole. I agree. He tells me he’s sorry. I tell him he should be. He says he’s been thinking about me. I’m honest and tell him he hasn’t crossed my mind in months. He says he was hoping I’d be a little easier on him. I told him being easy was my problem with him from the beginning. Touche. He launches in to some big story about how much he’s missed me and I get a beep. I tell him to hold on. I come back and tell him I’ll call him back in a second. He says “promise?” And I say “Would I lie to you?” He doesn’t think I would. I don’t call him back.

5 AM
Freak Mama and I leave the party and head home. Drunk munchies set in and we pull into a Jack In The Box. For the record, I hate this place but it’s the only fast food joint that is open 24 hours in the area. We order something like three double jacks, a shake and ‘tato skins. We pull up to the window, laughing our asses off over something that only drunks find funny. I spy the kid at the drive thru and he’s hot. He smiles at us. I lean over and ask “Can I get an order of you to go with that?” He blushes. He’s maybe 21 years old. Freak Mama asks him what time he gets off work. He tells us in two minutes. She says “we’ll just park the car”. I think this is hysterical until she really does park the car. We begin eating our skins and there is a tap on the window. It’s Jack-in-the-box boy, still in his uniform and looking eager. Freak Mama unlocks the door, he jumps in the backseat and we take off. We make the half hour drive to my house to party. Only when we get close to my house Freak Mama decides she is tired and wants to go home. Freak Mama is an evil, evil bitch. So here I am at 5:30 in the morning, sitting in my car as the rain pelts down with a minor I’ve hijacked from Jack-In-The-Box making expectant puppy eyes at me from across the car. I feel like I belong on Jerry Springer.

Can't Fight The Funk

DG is in a heinous mood today. Not at me but I get to hear him go on about it for the entire duration of what should’ve been my lunch break. I feel bad for him and reassure him this is something everyone goes through. I even cute text him in the afternoon: smile. everything will work out. xoxoxo.

9 PM To the bar to meet up with Freak Mama. I mingle about, saying hello to my usual admirers. I shoot the shit with Penguin and CC. I am on official cock-blocking patrol for Freak Mama from G-Man. I’m barking with the rest of the bar every time I order my doggie style drink. The night is young and going splendidly. Then I feel two arms wrap around my neck and squeeze me tightly. A pair of warm lips press against my cheek. I look to Freak Mama and she rolls her eyes. Instantly I know it’s MOB. He tells me how he tried calling me earlier today. Funny, my phone never rang but nice try. He just wanted to come up and check on me. I assure him I’m fine, better than ever, swell as hell. He doesn’t seem to believe me. He gives me a little extra attention. I don’t fold.

FB shows up and we start playing darts with the rest of the crew. Despite our talk the week before he is particularly friendly again. We become our usual flirty selves as we play darts, including the overuse of hugs and a few quick cheek kisses. MOB approaches, apparently bothered by our display of affection. For the first time ever instead of backing off, FB steps it up. His show of affection is contagious and I can’t help but return despite the looks I’m receiving from MOB. I go to the restroom. When I return MOB is standing at the jukebox. “Old Friend” is standing next to him. He sees me and grabs my arm as I pass. “I played something for you.” I ask which one. He says I’ll know it when I hear it. I doubt that I say, a little on the tipsy side. He says he’ll tap me on the shoulder so I know. I give him a kiss on the cheek and a sweet smile before I return to darts. Old Friend glares at us both. I give her my best Miss America smile and find my way back to FB and our dart board. In the next half an hour I get tapped by MOB twice. Both are sweet slow songs. One is about how much the man loves the girl and the other about how much the man wishes he could have the girl back. The third song I don’t need a tap. I hear the first two notes and turn to look at him across the room. He smiles. I smile back. It’s our song.

Last Call
MOB approaches to say goodbye. He asks if I’m okay. I know I’m swaying. “I don’t think I can drive home.” He says that he would drive me home but he has to go to a party with his friends. “You’re an asshole. I don’t want you to take me home. Just call me a cab.” I go to pay my bill. He has disappeared when I return.

I stumble to my car. MOB’s is parked next to mine. If I didn’t love my new pimp ride I would seriously crash mine into his and make him regret not getting me that cab. But instead I climb into my car and sit. No way am I making it home in my condition. As I pick up my phone to call my roommates it begins ringing. It’s FB.

Me: Hello?
FB: Where are you?
Me: Where are you? (I giggle)
FB: Where are you?
I see him come around the front of the bar.

Me: Watching you.
FB: This isn’t funny.
Me: Yes it is.

He scratches his head.

Me: Does your head itch? (I giggle)
FB: Okay, I give up. Where are you?
Me: In my car across the street.
FB: Don’t move. I’m on my way.

I blink my lights at him. He crosses the street and comes up to my door.

Me: What’s up, sexy?
FB: Scoot over.
Me: I’m fine.
FB: Fine, yes. Able to drive, no. Scoot over.

Ah, my knight in shining armor. As we drive away he takes my hand.

FB: Why do you let him do that to you?
Me: Let who do what?
FB: Stress you like that. I see the way you get when he comes in there. I’m not the only one who notices it.
Me: I don’t get like anything.
FB: You get an attitude and you get pissy.
Me: No, I don’t.
FB: Yes, you do. I thought you were over him.
Me: I am over him! I’m soooo over him. I don’t think I’ve ever been over someone like this in my entire life.
FB: You’re gonna go back to him.
Me: I’d rather go back to Jason Thunberg.
FB: Who?
Me: My boyfriend in the sixth grade that used to throw sand down my pants at recess.

We both laugh. I can’t deny the fact that I’m ridiculous and slurring or how good his hand feels in mind. We continue to talk on the short drive to the house. At some point, for some reason I hear him say “I don’t think you could handle it if we hooked up.” Now, I’m not sure if this is like a double-dog-dare thing or if he’s being sincere. I tell him I wouldn’t want to ruin his future sex life by getting involved with him because he’d never find someone to fulfill him like I could. He loves when I get sassy.

We pull into the garage and he turns off the car. I thank him. He kisses me. I kiss him back. I pull away and remind him that we’re not supposed to make out anymore. He agrees but then pulls me in for more. I doth not protest. Eventually we pull apart as he remembers that Preach is waiting outside to take him home.

I go inside and stumble up to my room, strip down to nothing and fall into bed. I remember that DG was supposed to call when he got off work. I check my phone. There are no missed or incoming calls from him so I decide to give him a call. He is in a worse mood then he was earlier in the day. He snaps at me and I hang up on him. Ass. I’m the one person out here who’s trying to help you. Do not bite the hand that feeds you or whatever that dumb saying is. Or is it something about a gift horse’s mouth? Man, I'm loaded. Anyway…

I turn off the light and my phone rings. I assume it’s DG. I answer with my bitchiest “Yeah?” It’s FB making sure I made it inside okay. I assure him I did but let him know if he wants to come tuck me in he is more than welcome. He wants to and I know it. But we both know he shouldn’t. We bid each other sweet dreams and hang up. My phone rings thirty seconds later. “You ready to tuck me in?” I ask. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Shit, it’s not FB. It’s DG. We talk until three o’clock in the morning. Let me rephrase that, he rants and raves and I listen, fighting off sleep.

Cock Fights

Traded text messages with DG all day. I like the attention. Talked to him for an hour on the way home. No news is good news when it comes to MOB.

Out with Vagina Jane. Darts with Freak Mama, Crazy James and Pac. Baby Girl introduces me to her neighbor E. Tells me we should hook up and that I need to meet new people. I talk to him for awhile. He asks for my number and I give it to him. He’s nice enough and cute. Vagina Jane and I head home at closing time. My phone rings and it’s a picture file from E. He has just sent me two pictures of his cock. Huh? Did this get my attention? Yes. Did it look like a nice cock? Very. Am I completely freaked out by this? You bet your ass. What makes a man think that is a good idea? Perhaps he assumed sending me a picture of what looks to be a nine-inch member would entice me. Unusual approach.

4 AM

I awake from a nightmare where I am being chased down the freeway by a nine-inch cock that sits upon two legs.

I Am Officially The Devil

DG and I text back in forth in the morning. He makes fun of me because the Packers lost the night before. I pray the Yankees lose to the Red Sox so I can make fun of him back. I like the New York Yankees just about as much as I like snockers and short guys with back hair.

I talk to him at lunch and then return to my desk. I glance at my buddy list. MOB is on. I think about IM’ing him. No! 86 hours and counting. Don’t want him to think I need him. If he wants to talk to me, he can contact me. But damn, I wish I knew what he was thinking!!! And then it comes to me. If I were a cartoon there would’ve been a huge ass light bulb blinking above my head. I shut down my IM and re-log on…as my sister. She has the same password for everything. She made it too easy to be fraudulent. Plus her computer wasn’t working and she lived 30 hours away. MOB hadn’t seen her in two months and I knew no matter what was happening with us, he would be happy to hear from her. He loved her like she was his little sister too. I take a deep breath and begin typing.

Measmysister: what up, MOB?

I sit and wait. He takes his sweet ass time writing back. Maybe he knows it’s me!

MOB: not much, how bout yourself
Measmysister: i'm good. missing *$&# a little.

She used to live with me but moved across the country to be closer to our family.

MOB: don't worry boo, your not missing nothing. what cha been doing?
Measmysister: working. hanging with the family. nothing too exciting.
Measmysister: how are you? how are things with my sis?
Measmysister: she said thursday rocked but the rest of the weekend sucked and wouldn't give me anymore details. bitch! lol.
MOB: I'm fine. me and your sister are not together any more. she dumped me but were still friends, thats why the rest of the weekend sucked

Dumped? Dumped is a word for high schoolers. We are on a break! Starting over. Clean slate, remember, buttmuncher?

Measmysister: did it suck for you too or just her?
MOB: me too, but i think it was best for us.
Measmysister: you two are funny. she says the same thing but i know she loves you to death, whether she's being a stubborn ass or not
Measmysister: and you may be the only person i know that's as stubborn as she is!

Sadly, this is true.

MOB: i just want her to be happy, and I'm not making her happy right now. but when were at the bar and she gets to drinking she forgets every thing we talked about, she gets mad at me cause i wont act like a boyfriend, and i keep telling her I'm not her boyfriend anymore which makes her more mad. but she wanted this.

Of course, I wanted this. I’m the evil person. Has nothing to do with the way you treated me.

Measmysister: that sucks. i'm sorry. do u think u guys will work it out?
MOB: to be honest, i don't know. its not like I'm looking for someone else, i do still love her, its just what's best for both of us right now. i told her maybe we shouldn't be in each others face so much, but you know she didn't want to hear that, she cried when i said hi to another girl, so maybe, maybe not

This was the other night at the bar. A-I didn’t cry and if I would have, it sure as shit wouldn’t have been because he said hi to a girl! I was upset because he was being an asshole. Don’t tell someone you’re on your way up to see them and then ignore them. But of course I can’t say shit because I’m my sister right now and can’t blow my cover!

Measmysister: r u serious? she cried when u said hi to another chick?
Measmysister: was it some girl or a girl you have thing with? cuz i've never known my sister to bug like that and i've seen her go through a lot of guys and a lot of shit
MOB:i know! that shocked me, she kept staring at me and even left for a little while with that punk ass guy who's always hitting on her.

This would be FB and we didn’t leave. We stepped outside to smoke and cool off which he would have known had he cared enough to follow me like FB did.

MOB: i hate to see her cry and i love her more than anything, but i can't run back, cause that would solve nothing
Measmysister: wow. in her defense my sisters going through a lot of shit right now, that she would never tell you about because she never wants to stress you. she always said she wanted to be the one bright spot in your day and not a downer. so be patient with her. it may not have even been about you saying hi to a girl. or that may have just topped off a bad day, ya know?
MOB:i know, thats why i love her so much

OBVIOUSLY! Whatever, ass.

Measmysister: and she loves you too. do you think you could find a way to work it out?
MOB: only time will tell.
Measmysister: i guess so.

*Insert unrelated bullshit small talk here*

MOB: ok i have to go right now, i'll speak to you later, bye & love you & miss you. Measmysister: love you too. bye!!

I am officially the devil. Pure evil. A manipulative, lying little hussy. And how do I know? Because I know what I just did was wrong and there’s not a single fiber of my body that feels bad about it.

Note to self: Focus on DG. Do I really like him or do I like the idea of him?

Pros: Great in bed. He’s hot. Funny. Young and trainable. Very ambitious/career driven.
Cons: Can be a flake. Talks a bit too much about himself. Very ambitious/career driven. Shallow bank account

What's For Lunch

I’m in a store across from work during my lunch break, talking to Ronnie about the party they’re having next weekend. He gets a beep and clicks over. I stare at the thongs in front of me. I realize that guys think it’s sexy and it works well with my formal dress but, damn, sometimes a girl just wants her granny panties. Ya know? And I would pay to see any guy I know wear a thong for even an hour. The things we do to be sexy. I’m still on hold when I get a beep. I check and it’s DG. I click over. He informs me that he happens to be ten minutes away from my work. Can he see me? Uh, hello! Yes, he can see me! I skip out of the store and back to the office. We meet outside. He only has a few minutes and I wasted most of my lunch staring at thongs so I need to get back inside too. As strange as this sounds, he looks cuter today. We shoot the shit for a couple minutes, steal a few kisses and then it’s back to work.

72 hours MOB free. No shakes, chills, cold sweats or other withdrawal symptoms because I am a steel fortress!!

Doggie Style

I miss Vagina Jane. We were the ultimate party pair. But now her man has returned and they’ve been holed up all week, no doubt doing it like bunnies in their beach house. Not that I’m jealous she’s completely in love with the man of her dreams and they’re going to live happily ever after. She deserves that. Just wish we could share her. Yes, I’m a selfish bitch. Layoff. It’s been a long weekend.

I go to meet Freak Mama. We chill, drink and girl talk. MOB’s “old friend” spends the night glaring at me from across the bar. The more I drink the more I contemplate walking over and bitch-slapping her off of her chair. I refrain. It’s more fun knowing she wants what she thinks I have and letting her think she doesn’t bother me in the least. The bartender invents a new drink but is lacking a name. I take a taste and offer up “Doggie Style”. By the end of the night everyone in the bar is drinking the doggie style and barking when they order.

Note to self: I do not like tuna melts. Do not ever eat another tuna melt.

48 hours and counting. MOB who?

Sometimes "We" Happens

DG and I wake late the next morning. We go to lunch. We run errands. We get him a new cell phone so we can communicate properly. We go to the store. We kiss in the parking lot. We hold hands as we walk. We say “we” a lot.

He goes into work late, showering me with hugs and kisses before he goes. And I sit there for a moment, thinking over the last 14 hours we spent together and suddenly I think I’m into something much more than I had bargained for. I couldn’t be a “we”. I was barely a recognizable specimen of an “I”. But I liked being a we. It felt good to be a we, especially with a him that was “normal”. No kids, no illegal activities, no gang/mob affiliation, a real job, aspirations of becoming a music producer, family values…what the hell was I getting myself into? This was crazy! I don’t date normal guys. Well, at least not as of late. Freak Mama wants to bitch slap me through the phone when I tell her. “It’s about time, loser!” I love how my friends encourage me so. “You have a new boyfriend!” She laughs and hangs up on me. Bitch. But is she right? How did this happen?! I’m not ready for this. Am I?

24 hours and counting. See, I don’t need MOB. I’m strong.

MOB's Love Is Like Quicksand And I Need A Rope

I talk to MOB on the way home from work. I tell him I’m going out for a few hours but I do not tell him that I’ll be leaving early to meet DG. I get to the bar and hang with some random friends. It’s almost 10 pm and MOB isn’t there yet. I know I have to leave within the next two hours or whenever DG calls. I call MOB and he says he’s on his way. He does not sound like the jovial man he was the night before. As I’m waiting for MOB, FB arrives. He takes a seat next to me and we talk over a drink. MOB enters and I flash him my best smile. He looks the other way. FB walks away. I wait for MOB to approach. He does not. We keep locking eyes but his face is expressionless. He approaches the lady with the roses again and makes a purchase. I am stupid enough to think that it will be for me. Instead, he walks back over to the door and lurks by himself, taking in everyone at the bar and making occasional eye contact with me. But he doesn’t smile and he doesn’t approach me. I go to the bathroom. When I return he has moved closer. I beckon him over. He does not hug me. “Hi.” I ask him what’s wrong. He says he’s just tired and then he walks away. I don’t know what to think. I turn to look for FB to say goodbye and I see MOB’s “old friend” sitting at the other end of the bar. He’s not talking to her either but part of me wonders if that’s why he’s not talking to me. I see FB and I give him a hug and tell him I’m taking off. He doesn’t believe I would be leaving so early. He wants to know what’s wrong. I try to convince him I’m fine but oddly, he knows me better. I tell him I have to leave and dash out the door. Before I get three feet away he’s behind me, hand on my arm. “Wait.” Although I appreciate FB’s concern, I wanted MOB to follow me. Why didn’t he give a shit what was wrong with me?!

FB instantly knows it has something to do with MOB as much as I deny it. Eventually he drags a few general details out of me. He thinks I can do better and that I shouldn’t let MOB get me down. “Right. Like I can do better by moving on to another mistake with you and your girlfriend at home, right?” Shit. That was low and I’m instantly sorry. I apologize. He pulls me in for a hug and we bust out laughing. We talk for awhile, agreeing that we are both way to fucked up to get into anything with each other, at least for right now. Besides, it’s more fun to be friends and have this lustful fantasy about each other than to actually get into a relationship and ultimately risk fucking that up.

I realize it’s only 11 PM and that it’s going to be one of those nights and if I don’t take control soon. MOB is inside ignoring me, my fake boyfriend and I have just fake broken up and DG texts me that he’ll be there in an hour. FB convinces me to come back inside for just one more drink. I decline. He insists. I follow him inside and order water. MOB is now on the stool where I had been sitting. When FB and I enter he shoots me a look of death. I turn and walk back out. I don’t need this shit from him. I’m sick of riding the bi-polar express that he puts me through.

I get home and DG shows up. I’m tired and fall in to bed wanting to sleep and erase the whole night but DG hasn’t seen me all week and he wants to talk. He yaps and yaps until eventually I am wide-awake. After a couple hours of talking we get to messing around which leads to sex which leads to four…COUNT THEM…four orgasms. Two of which I have on top, two I have on the bottom. Prior to this night I could count on my thumbs the number of times I’ve had an orgasm on the bottom. He just doubled my numbers in three sweet hours. Lust is bliss.

Who Are You And What Did You Do With MOB?

10 AM

I’m at work and my cell phone rings. It’s a private number and I’m a little busy so I don’t answer. Two minutes later, private call again. Five minutes later, private call again. I cave and answer. “Hello?” I hear a sigh and then “Hey, boo.” I check my watch. Did I miss daylight savings again? MOB is calling me before 10 PM at night. I immediately panic. “What’s wrong?” I brace myself for terrible news. “Nothing’s wrong. Whatcha doing?” Being stunned out of my mind, that’s what I’m doing! He has honestly just called to chat. Wants to know how my day is going. What I’m doing tonight. How I am. It’s been a long time since he called to chat and I’m completely caught off guard. We talk for a few minutes and I promise him I’ll call him on my way home from work. I hang up and a small sliver of hope creeps into my heart. Perhaps he really did do some thinking last night at the beach. Maybe he’s ready to make things work between us? I decide that although I’m elated to have his happiness and attention back, I will stay on my guard. Old MOB seems to disappear easily these days.

10 PM

I’m sitting at the bar with Baby Girl and Freak Mama when he walks in. His face lights up. He gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I feel like I’m in an episode of the Twilight Zone. My girls watch in amazement. He walks off to the bathroom and they are instantly in my face asking me what’s going on. Are you back together? Why’s he so happy? What aren’t you telling us? I have just as much information as they do at this point. He comes out of the bathroom and stops at the jukebox. The lady selling the roses approaches him. I roll my eyes and turn away. Freak Mama continues to watch. “Girl, he’s buying you a flower.” I turn and he is indeed purchasing a flower. “Trust me, it ain’t for me.” “Why?” I laugh. “Because I know MOB. I can count on this hand the things he’s bought me the last eleven months.” I turn my attention back to my drink. Moments later the flower is in my face. MOB kisses my cheek. He whispers in my ear, “I love you, boo.” I am stunned. The rest of the night flies by like a dream. We are old selves again. We’re laughing and joking and hugging. I’m glowing. He’s glowing. Freak Mama and Baby Girl can’t stop smiling as they watch us. We’re in a world of our own.

1:30 AM

The night has flown by and suddenly it’s time to go. As much as we hate it, we go home without each other. We must be careful. We’re just friends.

Note to self: Must stop loving MOB. This cannot last. Heartbreak will rear its ugly head once more. Warning! Stop now! Caution! Alerte! Beware! Precaucion!

Lifestyles Of The Wishy Washy

DG calls me at lunch. He wants to see me this weekend. I agree to meet up with him Friday when he gets off work. He doesn’t get off until 11 or so which gives me plenty of time to go out first. Hey, a girl has got to keep her options open, right?

FB calls on the way home. Am I coming out tonight? Of course I’m coming out tonight. I meet him for drinks at the bar for a couple hours. It’s fine. We aren’t as touchy feely tonight; both of us are still kind of weirded out by our conversation the other night. But after a drink and some good competition on the board, we are back to our easy going selves. Soon, the clock strikes midnight and Cinderella has to depart and Prince Charming has to be up in four hours for work. We split.

On my way home I try calling MOB. Oddly, he answers and he’s being nice. Not a combo I’m used to these days. He tells me he’s at the beach, thinking. I think he’s kidding and ask how many chicks are with him. He insists that he’s alone and clearing his head. I wish him luck and tell him to keep me posted if there are any major discoveries or improvements.

My friend calls and tells me he heard that Jas died. I cry myself to sleep, overcome with guilt.

A Cyber Turd Is Still A Turd, Even If U Don't See It In Person

Note to self: Baggy jeans make me look short. Purge ever-exploding closet of all baggy jeans.

FB calls. He fell asleep. Can he come over now? No. I tell him maybe I’ll see him out tomorrow night. MOB calls although I don’t know why. We talk for a total of two minutes, exchange no valuable information and then he has to go. Whatever. I hop on line because I’m not yet tired. Within seconds an IM pops up from some random guy who saw my ad.

Him: Hey cutie. How R U 2nite?
Me: Good. U?
Him: Great. I liked your profile.
Me: Thanks. Do u have one I can view?
Him: It’s not up yet. Will be tomorrow.
Me: Cool.
Him: Where do you stay?
Me: Near **&(@ and @%*$#(@).
Him: I’m close to that at !(#%&) and @(*%&#(*
Me: Crazy.
Him: What do you like to do for fun?
Me: Play darts, watch football, party with my friends. You?
Him: I’m into sports and music and giving massages.

Me in my head: Lame!

Him: I’m just looking for a loving woman I can spoil and settle down with.
Me: I like to be spoiled.
Him: What’s your favorite position?

Now, this can go a couple dramatically different directions:
*I can hit ignore without a word and never hear from this guy again.
*I can tell him what a fucknut I think he is and why.
*I can play with him for a little while and amuse myself.

Being the selfish person that I am, I decide to amuse myself.

Me: Honestly?
Him: I won’t tell.
Me: I’m in to threesomes. Me, another girl and a guy. Girl on girl action gets me really hot. I like to use my tongue on everyone in the room.

I can practically hear this guy panting across cyberspace.

Him: Wow!
Me: But I guess that doesn’t answer my favorite position. Lol. Sorry. My favorite position is doggy style. And I love it when he yanks my hair like a cave man. It’s such a turn on.
Him: Sounds like we’re a perfect pair.
Me: Can I call you daddy or big papa pump?
Him: Yeah, baby. You can call me anything you want to.
Me: And will you spank me if I’m naughty?
Him: I’ll spank you like the naughty little vixen you are.
Me: Oooh, daddy. It’s okay that I’m really 16, right?
Him: Yeah! Even better. I like ‘em young. When can we meet?
Me: I was thinking this weekend but I’m so worked up right now I could touch myself.
Him: Let me do it! I wanna be there for you, babe. Let my fingers do the walking.
Me: Can you meet me in thirty minutes?
Him: I’ll be there in 20 you sexy slut!
Me: I’ll grab my girlfriend and we’ll meet you at 1320 *@&%#( Drive. Don’t knock on the front door. Just come on in and we’ll be waiting at the top of the stairs in a pool of pudding.
Him: I’m on my way!!

He signs out in about half a second. I laugh so hard I have tears rolling down my cheeks. I just sent him to a crack house in the middle of the ghetto in a Crip neighborhood. Good luck, perv.

Can I Have A Doggy Bag?

9 PM

FB finally calls. He’s so sorry he missed dinner. Am I mad? Are there leftovers? He could come over tonight and see me. I ask why he didn’t at least give me a call and let me know he couldn’t make it. He says it’s been crazy at the house. His woman took off on a cruise and he had to watch the kids and he didn’t even know she was going. Errrrr…rewind! Your what? “You have a girlfriend?” He doesn’t hesitate in his answer. “No. The woman I live with.” And that means what? “That you share children with?”. He goes on to explain that he lives with his ex who is his son’s mother because it’s easier. But he doesn’t love her and they haven’t even slept together in months. And this makes me feel better how? I sit for a second and he notices my pause, asking me what’s wrong. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” He assures me that they’re not together like that and then asks again if he can come over when the kids go to sleep. I tell him to call when that happens. Apparently the kids didn’t go to sleep that night.

Making An Ass Out of U and Me

You all know the saying: Never assume because it makes an ass out of u & me. Note to self, just because a guy is all up in your business every time you turn around, do not assume he doesn’t have a girlfriend/wife/baby mama/live in ex or any other form of a woman in his life.

I make dinner. FB is late. I call his phone. It’s off. I call Vagina Jane and two other friends to come help me eat the feast I have slaved over. They are more than willing to lend me a hand. Vagina Jane and I head to the bar. We see Preach but no FB. He says he hasn’t seen nor heard from FB since he dropped him off last night. Odd, very odd.

Tell Me I Was Dreaming

Saturday is a blur. I drift in and out of consciousness until nearly noon. I can't close my eyes without picturing Jas. What have I done? He went to that club to see me and I'm so wrapped up in stupid ass MOB that I don't give him the time of day and he gets shot. I don't even know if he's alive. I don't know how to find out.

I call Rock. He’s not home. My once bad boy musician has somehow become a poster boy for the fucking PTA. He’s suddenly to busy driving car pool to soccer league than to be at my beck and call via telephone. For all I know he’s baking brownies and screwing the teacher’s aide while I’m here, where we used to be together. Funny, I wasn’t all that into Rock when I had him but suddenly I want to kick his ass all over Virginia for not being within 2000 miles when I need him.

Then again, why do I need my long distance boyfriend? I have plenty of people who will make me feel better. I call my ex Ronnie. He and I have been broken up for years but he is one of my nearest and dearest friends. One of the few people in the world that knows me, and all the evils that includes, and loves me anyway, unconditionally. Sometimes I fear he knows me better than I know myself. I only have to say hello and he knows something as wrong. But I didn’t call him to unload about my night. I just called to hear his voice and laugh. Ronnie always makes me laugh and he doesn’t fail me this time either. Ronnie is the best. Too bad we were so terrible for each other when we were together.

9 PM

Vagina Jane picks me up and we head out. Tonight we shall not stray into seedy neighborhoods or attend an after hours. We talk about not going out at all but we need to be with our friends. We need to do something other than sit around and think about the nightmare we went through the night before. She surprises me as we leave the house. “As much as I can’t stand you with MOB, there’s no one in the world I would have rather had with us last night.” I shake my head in silent agreement. Then we’re off.

The mood at the bar is a little different tonight. Everyone is a bit quieter, more subdued at first. We’re all just so happy to be together and safe. Soon we’re all our old selves, laughing and drinking and playing darts. FB and Preach show up and soon all is as it should be. FB and I being all touchy feely to the point where Preach wants to barf. I’m less kissy tonight and more huggy. Sometimes a girl just needs strong arms around her to feel secure.

The night ends with FB and I making out in the parking lot next to my car while Preach and Vagina Jane waiting impatiently for us to unlock our faces. Finally Preach began honking, signaling that playtime was over. I asked FB if he wanted to come over. He said yes, gave me a kiss on the cheek and said “so I better go home”. Annoying! This little fucker was such a tease! Vagina Jane and I settle for a cheap, greasy breakfast of bacon and eggs at the 24 hour diner down the street to repel our horniness.

Besides, I’ll see FB tomorrow night at my house, which is better anyway. I lost a bet and now I owe him dinner.

Girlz In Da Hood

It’s Crazy James’s birthday so Vagina Jane and I head out…again. We tuck ourselves into a corner table and let people come to us, which they do. They always do. We watch people dance. We watch them play pool. We drink and laugh. I’m feeling better. Still confused but I think I know what I have to do at this point. MOB and I will just be friends, as much as exes can be. I need to figure out how I feel about FB. DG I will play by ear and see if the sex can match up to the first time.

Jas finds me in the corner. He wishes I would’ve called. I promise him I will. He asks for my number again and I finally give it to him. Why not? He's totally cute and he looks at me as if I'm a Goddess. Just as I do, in walks a familiar face. MOB. He walks by the table, giving me his best smile, about to pass me by. Then stops and comes back towards me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It’s a little weird. We both smile at each other. “How was your day, friend?” He can be such a shithead sometimes. “It was fine, friend. How was yours?” He’s had better. At least he’s being honest, unlike myself. We stare at each other for a moment, both knowing how much this is going to suck, but knowing it’s for the best. We have to be strong. If it’s meant to be down the road, it will be. The night flies by with the two of us exchanging glances and smiles across the bar, never taking our eyes off each other for very long. Luckily FB doesn’t make it out tonight.

1 AM

MOB and I stand at the bar, ordering our last call drinks. He wonders what I’m doing afterwards. Maybe he and his friends would come over and we could party at our house? I’m not at all opposed to the idea. His “old friend” approaches and steals his hat off his head shooting daggers at me but sending him flirty eyes that dare him to come get it back. He ignores her and part of me cheers inside. Ha! Take that wench. He doesn’t want to be with you. It takes her a minute to figure this out but when he puts his arm around me and turns his back to her, she slams the hat back on his head and walks away in a huff. He doesn’t turn to watch her go. He tells me he’s going to go round up some friends to bring over. I tell him to make sure she isn’t one of them. He thinks I’m funny.

Jas approaches at the same time as Vagina Jane. He’s trying to find out when he can see me again. She’s talking in my other ear at the same time telling me how much she wants to go to the after hours club with everyone. I, of course, would rather sit at my house with MOB and company but I can tell Vagina Jane isn’t going to let that happen. Once she gets something in her head, it’s hard to convince her otherwise. Jas continues to sit next to me and talk. MOB walks by a couple of times, watching carefully. I smile to reassure him that there is nothing to fear, even though we’re “just friends”. Jas asks again where we are going now and I tell him, “I guess we’re going to the club.” He smiles. “Well, if that’s where you’re going, that’s where I’ll be.” I’m hoping I can still talk Vagina Jane out of it in the car.

We head to my house for a quick pit stop. MOB shows up, alone. And I know that he’s hoping for the same thing as me. But Vagina Jane is not having it so we jump in the car to head to after hours. Only on the way out of the garage, Vagina Jane (who is slightly less inebriated then me and is therefore driving) accidentally slams the side of the car into the garage wall. I watch in horror as the passenger side mirror of my brand new “look at me, I’m such a pimp” car splits off and hangs by electrical wires. Holy shit…

But does a little accident like that stop party girls from hitting the town? Hell, no. Soon, we’re off again. We arrive at the club in a shady area of town. We’ve been there before and it was fine but I’m still glad MOB is with us. Jas is already there and he smiles the minute I walk in the door. And then he of course notices MOB is with me. We take a seat at the bar. Vagina Jane, myself, MOB. There are three people on the other side of MOB and then Jas stands watching. I feel very uncomfortable. People find their way to us and we small talk. MOB and I stay close and exchange sarcastic remarks about the boundaries of being friends. A great song comes on and people head out to the dance floor. I ask MOB if he wants to dance. He says we can’t. I tell him that friends can dance. And he says not friends like us, it will only cause trouble. When I get slightly irritated he reminds me, “You’re the one who wanted this.” As if he had nothing to do with the decision.

3 AM

A few drinks and a couple dances later…

MOB and I can’t stop throwing jabs back and forth. Vagina Jane tells us to knock it off and kiss and make up or just shut up. Jas continues to walk by and watch me, trying to catch my eye. I can’t take the way MOB is looking at me. I’m drunk and I’m sick of the tension. “This is stupid. I didn’t mean the friends thing. Can we just go back and be okay now?” He shakes his head with an evil smile on his face. “Nope. I’m giving you what you want.” I can’t believe this. He’s trying to punish me. What an assface! I call him on it. “So you’re punishing me for saying we should be friends?” He shakes his head. “Yep.” Then he heads to the dance floor without me. I sit in my chair and watch. And people have the nerve to say that I’m an emotional terrorist? Please! MOB is the king of guilt trips. Look at him out there, grinding with that ugly chick, never taking his eyes off of me the whole time. He’s playing a sick game with me and I can’t take it. I stand to leave but am grabbed by some of my friends. They force me to dance and it’s fun but I can still see MOB in my line of vision. He makes sure of it. I walk out the back door to get some fresh air. I’ll find Jas, I think to myself. And we’ll go dance. Screw MOB.

As I light my cigarette I see Jas running through the parking lot towards the backdoor where I’m standing. But security is running up to him and before I realize what is going on Jas screams “I’ve been shot!” He rushes past me and falls to the ground. I look to see a spot of blood rapidly gaining size in his chest. I rush into the club to find Vagina Jane and MOB. People begin to scramble for the exits. I hear people yelling that someone is dead outside. Someone is dead in back. I lose MOB in the crowd as Vagina Jane and I rush out the back door. Jas is on a chair, barely able to sit up, blood now staining his white t-shirt directly below his heart. His forehead is glistening with sweat. He begins to split blood. I freeze. I can’t move. I don’t know what to do. People around me are moving fast. I hear conversations with 9-1-1, security, friends looking for each other. One person is telling me to stay put. Vagina Jane and Pac are yelling at me to follow them. I can’t take my eyes off of Jas. As Vagina Jane and Pac begin to drag me away I scan the crowd for MOB. I don’t see him anywhere. I want to find him. Pac yells at me as he yanks me down the driveway. “We gotta push. I’m sure he split. We’ll find him later.” I tried telling Pac that all I wanted to do was find him and make sure he was safe. Pac assured me that the last thing MOB was thinking about right now was me and Vagina Jane and it was everyman for himself. We needed to save our own asses.

As we round the corner and come to the front of the club I see him. MOB is standing there, scanning the crowd, searching for me. We run to each other. “Are you okay?” we ask at the same time. He’s fine. I’m just in shock. He and Pac usher Vagina Jane and I towards our car. In the middle of the sidewalk is the dead body of Jas’s friend. This is so unfucking real to me I can’t even process. I stop for just a second and stare. MOB puts his hand on my back, urging me forward. I step around the dead body and sprint to the car.

This is not at all what I had in mind for tonight.

Vagina Jane and MOB leave my house around 4:30 am. My phone rings until six in the morning. All my friends from the club calling to make sure we’re home safely. Did we know what happened? Is Jas alive? Did you see anything? What were they involved in? My head is spinning.