I don't know why I'm writing this down. I am an idiot, and the fact that I find this kind of stuff funny is probably why. Although, this makes me look terrible. Don't go telling everyone (the women), as the following is evidence of what a degenerate fuck up I am.
Gwen invited me to her going away deal; Facebook event, dinner at eight, bars after. She’s going back to Vermont, to start her law career. She came over after her bar exam on Wednesday but there was no fucking, just drinking. I figured I'd get my fill of those boobs in Dallas so I wasn't worried.
As Saturday approached, I considered blowing her off. The thought of having to meet her friends, drive, and hang-out seemed like it wasn't worth the money. Instead of handling it responsibly, as in calling or writing her, I did nothing about it all week. I probably would have been better off not going.
At five on Saturday, I wrote a lame Facebook letter saying I wouldn't make dinner at 8pm but I would find her, eventually. It was a real dick-move letter, not really saying anything.
I was an hour late on purpose. Sushi isn't my forte, in fact I hate sushi, and I wanted to avoid that pretentious fancy going away dinner shit. Instead, I went to a dive bar. I started drinking cheap whiskey and beer by myself while waiting for her dinner thing to end. I eventually shot her a text and she responded that they would wait for me at the restaurant.
Dallas has a lot of street preachers. I started smoking pot out of my cigarette bat as I walked. A preacher talked to me and I talked back. I've always said I would be one of those guys if I was a hard core Christian. Those guys are chaos. We went back and forth for an hour and half. I was enjoying it.
Three of them switched on and off, like they were tag-teaming me or something. They were showing off their knowledge of the Bible and I was showing off my knowledge of religious questions that have no answers. We both listened. My phone kept going off but I didn't look at the texts.
Eventually I'd had enough. I looked at my phone and the party people had been waiting for me at the restaurant. They waited outside too, trying to get a hold of me. I of course did not respond. They grew sick of waiting for me and went to a bar, the Doublewide, which I have no idea about, so I went back to the dive for more whiskey. Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
I started drinking at the counter and some chick pulled up next to me. I raised my glass and said “Here's to you.”
“What?” said her dude, who I didn't even notice.
“Here’s to you too,” I said and drank the rest.
He was an ass and I was an ass, and we just stared at each other. I thought I might hit him. I don't know what got into me. The glass slipped out of my hand and spilled on the bar, getting both of them wet from the ice. They were pissed so I tore out of there. Time to find Gwen.
I started asking people on the street, “Where the hell is the Doublewide?”
No one knew, or didn't tell me. I smoked more pot and was tempted to talk to the preachers again. Eventually two gay dudes told me how to get to the Doublewide and I finally made it. All told, I was about three hours late or something.
I told Gwen I was late due to talking to God’s army. She gave me shit for talking to the preachers, who she despised. She said I was the problem.
“If you didn’t talk to them, they’d go away.”
I disagreed; as long as we came to drink, those fucks would be there. I ordered beer and whiskey and chatted with her friends. They were all lawyer types. The girls were all pretty and I kept staring at them. Gwen would catch me sometimes.
Gwen talked forever; she never stopped. How can one person talk so much without stopping? She was not being nice. Gwen’s friends were hotter than her and I started laying game on one.
Gwen kept it up. First gave me shit about being late, then about my life. She started laying into me about how I wasn't reaching my full potential as a mail clerk, and that I was getting too old to be living near a college campus. I got pissed.
I argued at first, but then decided it wasn't worth it. I was losing. The preacher people had taken all the spirit out of my arguing and the practice hadn't helped me win. Plus, she’s a lawyer so it made it worse.
We walked to the next bar. Ever since I quit smoking cigs I've had a tough time at bars. One saving grace is my one-hitter, and as we walked I lit up. Like an idiot, I accidentally dropped the one-hitter and it clanged loudly when it hit the street. All the lawyer types heard it and saw it. One was pissed, saying he could lose his license, and all kinds of other bullshit.
“Relax,” I told him. “Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Everyone, including Gwen, started laying into me for putting them at risk.
“What the fuck?” I said. “You wouldn't have even known about it if I hadn't dropped it! You’re making a big deal about nothing.”
I had gotten to the point where I didn't give a fuck, and I said some other sarcastic shit.
After we walked some more, some of Gwen’s friends went to her privately and then they were gone. They didn't feel safe being around me she said. I caused her friends to leave on her going away party.
The next bar was worse. I quietly drank more whiskey as the law people talked. I began to hate them. I was quite drunk at that point. It was loud and crowded and everyone screamed at each other in order to talk. I hate that. I left without saying anything. I went for a walk, smoked more pot, and talked to people on the street. I don't know what I was saying.
I met a girl and offered her weed, which she accepted. She was not that hot but wore a skirt, and I liked the way it made her ass look. She talked a lot too but I didn't care.
Eventually Gwen texted me saying that they were going home. It was her and her friend, the one I had been laying game on. I was walking and talking with the random chick when they found me on the street. Gwen was pissed I was with some other chick. She said the next day that I had invited her to come up stairs with us to smoke more herb. I don’t remember it, but I believe it.
They had to tell her to go away and I argued with them -- I think. Both of the girls gave me the silent treatment on the way up the elevator. I opened a beer which I later spilled. Boxes were everywhere. All of her lamps were packed away. The girls sat and talked in the dark. The fucking jib-jabber was never ending with these two.
I was bored and wanted to screw, but Gwen’s friend was talking to her and there was little sign it was stopping. I was starring at their boobs and I got the idea of maybe trying some threesome action. It's a tough bridge to cross, and I had no idea where to start. I decided to just start making out with Gwen and hoped that would work.
I guess I should say that I tried to make out with Gwen. She was like, “What the fuck are you doing!” I think I said, “Hey, there's enough for everybody.” But, she pushed me off. She said I stunk. I told her whiskey makes me say anything I want. I tried again: “Well you two can make out I guess and I'll just watch” I said.
How about that. I couldn't believe I was actually saying this type of shit. They both kinda started laughing. It was more like that surprised, disgusted laugh people give when they are shocked. I told them both I was drunk, which for some reason seemed like I was telling them something they didn't know. This ended their conversation.
I crashed on the couch, feeling like an idiot, and started to think that if I hadn't screwed up repeatedly, then I might have had a legit shot at a threesome. I imagined going to sushi, listening intently, being perfect, and then getting two vaginas as a reward. I hadn't thought of any of that before.
I pretty much blacked out at that point and think the other girl left. Gwen said she had to carry me to bed, well, more like drag me to bed. I don't remember anything. I was in my clothes still when I woke up and forgot where I was.
I discovered that I had yakked in my sleep, all over her bed. Seriously. It was brown and dry. It was on my clothes too. Gwen was still asleep when I decided to try and sneak out, but she woke up and was pissed. She said she would have to throw out her bed spread. I apologized as I pretended to get water to cover the fact I almost bolted.
I had forgotten about a lot of the stuff I did the night before, but she reminded me. I asked her if I could buy her breakfast as an apology move and she accepted. During breakfast I realized things would never be the same between us, which was evident in how she talked to me. It's amazing how the same woman who drank my cum at one point has now decided to be a pretentious “better than me” person.
She returned to the “you’re not living up to your potential” line and she took the “I know everything” position. Women have the amazing ability to judge you and back up their position. Plus, she was a lawyer which made it worse. I am such a screw up so I can't blame her.
Telling myself I had no reason defend who I am, I just ate my eggs. I kept imagining her bent over moaning and that helped me not yell or flip-out. Based on my actions I couldn't really talk.
Every woman I've been in a relationship with has taken that turn for the worst. It’s like when you’re on the road, leaving a great city. It sucks; leaving. I’m watching the scenery change, knowing I probably won’t see that part of the world again.
Eventually, women decide I'm a fuck up, or perhaps discover it, and I can sense the shift. It's everything, in their eyes, their voice; they just don't like me anymore.
After breakfast Gwen and I parted ways. My car was still there, but I had gotten a ticket. I don't know if I'll see her again, I doubt it. I am a screw up.Broseph is a prophet from Tampa, Florida.