Thanks for brunch on Sunday. After the weekend ... err well the 36 hours I had out-of-town, it was nice to chill and hang out.
Obviously when you asked why it sucked, I didn't tell you the truth. If I had, I know you would have had an issue with it. You shouldn't though. We're aren't officially anything.
Thanks for wasting my time this weekend you fucking douche bag. It was like almost as soon as I arrived, I was ready to come home.
Here’s why you suck balls a-hole:
After arriving at your place Thursday evening and finishing off a drink or two, the clothes started to come off – as they do – and I don’t know, call me crazy but I expected to get laid. As we started to, suddenly you think we’re going to fast. Too fast?!! Are you fucking kidding me?! Not only did that confuse the fuck out of me, I started to think I was that bad kid in school that started drinking, smoking and having sex before everyone else. You know the one, the 16-years-old-and-pregnant-girl, or the spent-time-in-jail dude. So yeah thanks for that fuck face.
We established pretty quickly that there isn’t a romantic connection between us. I was never looking for anything from you anyway so I can’t say I was really that disappointed but the least you could have done was finish what you started.
I didn’t really want to go to the cabane à sucre the next day for breakfast to be perfectly honest. I do my best to avoid fatty foods at all cost and this was essentially like drinking bacon grease cocktails with a side of lard. Oh let’s not forget the deserts! Thanks for asking the waitress to bring the additional desert they don’t normally serve. You know, that small bowl of maple syrup with small pieces of egg (that smelled bad) floating in it. You like this shit? Seriously I felt my waistline expanding and my teeth rotting after one putrid spoonful. I’m not sorry for not finishing it; it was revolting.
On the way back, I knew I couldn’t bare another sober minute of this and suggested we head to the nearest patio we could find for drinks. You ordered a pint of beer; I ordered myself a pitcher of sangria. I needed that drink more than you will ever know. If it was me that brought up the topic of clothing or accessories than I regret it big time. You're on a completely different planet than I am on that one. Apparently I'm “crazy” because my sunglasses cost the same as your rent. Got some news for you douchebag– I’ll spend my money on any damn thing I chose to, I earned it myself and they look fucking fantastic on me. Oh and if that's your rent, then what the fuck are you complaining about?!! Pleasantly buzzing it was time for me to shop, something I know you don’t enjoy and clearly don’t do often. Thanks for reminding me about your impatience for it and your ability to only hit one or two stores because, you know, as your guest, that was a real classy thing to say.
Another one of your best lines came when we were back at your place when we were changing for the evening. Scrolling through your possible online hook-ups (I'm not making this shit up! Seriously!) you commented, "I'm just not into blondes". Hilarious. Can you even see me?! I didn’t mind at all that you wanted to stop by your friend’s house early that evening to give him a birthday gift and have a drink with him – I actually thought that was totally decent of you. What I did think was odd was that you failed to tell me we were actually going to a birthday party until we were in the car on the way there. Most of the time I was there, I was dying to leave. Oh by the way, one of your friends, who was with his “girlfriend” (I’m using that term loosely) drunkenly told me how attractive he thinks you are and how lucky I am to have you. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he’s a stupid fuck and to never say those words again.
When we finally arrived at the bar I couldn’t see any way that I was going to be able to pretend to have fun so after having a beer I lied to you about not feeling well so I could take your keys, leave and put an end to this mess. When I woke up the next morning and you hadn’t been home I assumed you had met someone and went home with them. Good for you I thought, I would have done the same thing. When I didn’t hear from you after a while, my mind started to wonder a little bit. Perhaps you had foolishly drove home after the bar closed and you had been killed in a drunk driving accident. As tragic as that would have been, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d do with your house key when I left. Somehow that was more important to me. Do I lock up? Would it matter? Either way, I figured we wouldn’t be going for our planned morning run so I showered, dressed, made a pot of coffee and ate some breakfast.
Much later when you finally sent me a text message I was somewhat relieved you hadn’t died but astounded that you decided to have breakfast with your friend and wouldn’t be back until noon. Noon?! I’d been up since 7:30 and since I had your house key I essentially couldn’t leave you place in case you came home while I was gone! Not that there’s anything to do in your neighbourhood, I’m just sayin’s all.I was in Hell. Apparently Hell is a poorly furnished apartment in the middle of fuck nowhere where ironically no one is fucking. Yeah it’s only funny, because it’s true. I spent the better part of the morning pacing up and down the hallway of your narrow apartment like a fucking rat in a cage (love you Billy Corgan).
I decided then that I was going to pack my suitcase back up and go home. The fee to exchange my train ticket for one departing this afternoon outweighed anything we could possibly do together in enjoyment and I hastily called my friends to discuss how I’d lie to you about why I suddenly had to leave. I really didn’t want to be a prick about the situation I just wanted to go home; I didn’t want you to be offended.
You were surprised but took it well. *huge sigh of relief on my part*
The decision was made – we’d grab some sushi quickly and then you’d drop me off at the train station. I’m still sort of shocked at how you didn’t even reach for you wallet (even if you did or did not end up paying) when the bill was presented and how when I did (because that’s what you do if you have a basic understanding of good manners) you proceeded to ask me if it was my treat (in the tone of a question). Umm yeah, well it looks like I have no choice you cheap, classless fuck. The tension that followed the moment after I said that was your own fault. I don't think I could have liked you less at that moment.
After you dropped me off at the train station, I changed my ticket, left my luggage with the baggage personnel and went shopping. I bought the sexiest underwear I could find and made plans to get together with “N” tomorrow. Can't
Thanks for making me a really nice dinner this evening. I really enjoyed everything.
Oh and by the way, I am sleeping with other people so when it appeared like I was making a joke about it, I actually wasn't. You didn't seem to like the idea that I might be but given our history, that surprises me.
I hope you don't want this to become something more than it is. Let's just leave things the way they are.
