sorry fuckers

On Friday night I met my friend Rick at a bar with a pool table after work. My friend E called me to ask what was up and then invited herself along. I didn't want to hang around her, but accepted that she was on her way over. After holding the table for four or five games, we decided that Rick was going to ride his bike to my place, and that I'd meet him there after I took the train. E came along.

On the train north E asked what we were up to and I told her that we were going to see an improv comedy show that my friend Chris was playing in, and then may go to a party in Lincoln Park. I asked what she was doing. She said "oh, I'm going to meet a friend out for dinner. You don't know him" I'd looked at my watch 10 minutes earlier so I knew that it was already around quarter to 8. Further, I knew that this was a line of shit because she'd made no mention of, or even appeared to be hurried to get home (including now on the train).

I told E that she was invited to tag along with me and Rick if she wanted, and she quickly agreed. I waited five minutes before mentioning that she should probably cancel her dinner plans with her friend and she admitted to lying! I told her that that was a super weak lie and that those sort of games won't ever work. Can't she figure out by my actions that I don't care? How stupid! I'd already started to think that E was kind of dumb, but this was a legitimate turn off.

Anyways, I'd been thinking about losing E for the past few weeks,.. Such as when I'd decided that I'd rather attend my cousin's wedding next week solo instead of bringing E,.. And when I'd started to catch myself rolling my eyes behind her back when she's made a stupid or otherwise totally obvious observation.

I think I'd rather be a bitter prick on my own as opposed to this uncalled for extended passive aggression on a poor dumb girl who really just wants a boyfriend. I just haven't given her the slip yet.

Instead, I've taken her out of her comfort zone.

Friday evening Rick and I decided to ride from 4500 north to the show (located 800 north in the west loop), meaning that E would also be riding. I knew that she wasn't really used to this (city riding in city traffic), but didn't think she'd be so fucking slow. She doesn't know how to properly ride her bike. And her backpack is small, designer and lame. I had to trail behind her at a super slow speed while Rick darted off blocks ahead of us. I could tell that she was pissed, but kept a good game face on.

After the show it had rained really hard, and was still coming down a bit. Rick and I (especially) enjoy riding in the city at night in the rain. It can be super fun. Again, E kept her game face on even though I could tell she was pissed that she was stuck in the rain on her bike. I'm sure she was wondering what her friends were up at that moment: most likely at some lame southport bar drinking lame bottles of Bud Light and getting chatted up about lame subjects by lame investment bankers who were already drunk at 10 pm with their lame frat brothers from their lame Big 10 university. Compared to riding in the rain, soaked and fucked up makeup, I'm sure that other scenario sounded about right-on for E.

Anyways, we got to the bar in Lakeview to play some foosball and ended up drinking five or six pints of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Rick and I then rode back to my place and E placed her bike in a cab and had him drive her over. At home we continued to drink bottles from a late night 12-pack and listen to the Stone Roses. E had never heard them before but claimed to like them. I could only silently wonder "why are you here? All of this is my fault. I've got to cut this girl loose because this is getting mean."

So, both crashed over. Rick was gone when I woke up and I made E and myself some tea, then E rode home.

My friend Dave was over most of Saturday, so I cancelled on E's invite to go to some block party with her and her friends. I told her that I'd call her on Sunday, I didn't.

So, I'm going to have to tell her that it's not her it's me this week. What can I say? If it's not happening it's not happening. I shouldn't think that my girl is dumb. I shouldn't think that my girl has bad taste. My girl should know how to ride her bike.

There's probably other somewhat unrealistic qualifications that I demand, I just can't think of them right now. And, oh yeah, I have dated the girl I've described,.. The only real problem with that situation is that she's crazy in a zoloft-refill kind of way and can't emotionally or mentally handle any sort of real applied human relations. Damn you!

This blog has got to brighten up. Sorry fuckers.