Been down one times. Been down two times. Never going back again.

Today one of my ex's called me to grab 'coffee'. I assumed coffee = sleeping together since we did two weeks ago when we saw each other for the first time since I've been single....after we 'spent some time at my place' we eventually took the L train to the East Village to get some coffee. I had to run to work tonight and it was pretty busy (I work a couple nights a week in a restaurant in Williamsburg). All I could think about the whole night is that my co-worker's wad of herb he had in his pocket that we kept talking about smoking after. We stayed true to our pact and rolled a joint, smoked it, and went out to meet Delia at the skee-ball down the road....yes, folks, in Williamsburg it is officially hip to play skee-ball and booze and like any game you play drunk, the more you drink, the more you convince yourself you are, 'better playing it drunk than sober.'

High as a kite, I had an argument with the dude that was trying to hook up with Delia that Michael Jackson is known universially around the world more than Jesus or McDonalds....this was my stimulation of the night. I think he was getting annoyed with how annoying I was being because I was INSISTANT that about Michael Jackson. I think he also thought I was crazy because I also kept calling FRIENDS, 'one of the worse shows ever on television.' Well, that sucks for him because I know he's still chasing my friend's tail because I made like a banana and split so I could watch king of the hill and eat plums that I bought from Trader Joes.

While high I came across this video...there's so many things wrong with this viideo, I can't even begin to explain...

Love Will Tear Us Apart

Last night was the first night I haven't been out in five days. It felt good sitting on my couch popping Trader Joe's Bon Bon's into my mouth while watching An Education. A complete miss because of the lack of animalistic sex between a young Carey Mulligan and Peter Sarsgaard. So I decided to wake my dog up and take him out. I looked like crap but I didn't care with a pimple the size of a walnut on my chin. Bra less and in 70's track pants I walked my dog around the corner hoping not to run into anyone.

I went to go back into my apartment when I noticed I fucking locked my keys in the apartment. The first time this has happened since I moved in over two months ago after my ex-boyfriend and I broke up. My dog is sitting there shivering and I am as well and at the same time panicking. My buddy on the Grand stop has my spare and I am off of the Bedford Ave stop. I don't have my phone nor do I know any numbers except for my ex's who I haven't seen since we stopped having break up sex which ended with my emotional breakdown after he came in me the last time (WARNING - break up sex never works).

I kind of despise my ex-boyfriend (yes, I am in that stage now). So back to my story. Since I don't know any phone numbers other than his, I have to call. I ask a scared elderly Polish woman if I can use her phone which appears to be from 1999 and I rack my brain how to use it. The conversation goes as follows with my ex.

"Hello?" says ex.
"Um, hi this is ___. I know this is random but I'm locked out of my apartment and your number is the only one I knew."
"Oh, um, who's number is this?"
"Some random woman that is sitting next to me." The woman proceeds to hold out her hand letting me know to get off of it. "Listen I don't have keys and my friend does can you come and help me? Taco (my dog) is shivering and I don't know what to do."
"I'm on N9th I'll be there in a bit."

I'm devastated at this point. Last time he saw me I was curled up naked sobbing on my bed telling him to get, "The hell out of my apartment and to never call me again."

He arrives in my car and all I can think about is about the pimple on my face that if it could would grow legs and walk away out of embarrassment.

He arrives and he's a lot shorter than I remember and I feel a combination of embarrassment and anger. He says, "hi" and bashfully asks me how things are. I mumbled something and ask him to take me to my friends house after I figure out her phone number after emailing him from Ex's phone. Luckily she is home. Ex starts to mention something about how he thought of me last night and hated how things ended. I flashed back to me on the bed hysterical and ignored him.

He drove me in his car to my friend's house and we made small talk and as soon as I walked up to my friend's door who was holding the keys, smoking a ciggie, and laughing all I could utter is, "Get a gun and shoot me."

I hopped back in the car praying that I double checked my spare keys before I gave them to my friend and started awkwardly talking about Radiohead to make things less awkward with Ex. I thanked him a thousand times and pictured him on a date that I probably interrupted and then pictures him having sex with some girl who is shorter than him and uglier than me and then realized I was back home, keys in hand, Taco in my lap. I thanked him one more time, kissed him on the cheek, said something about getting coffee (which will not happen) and left.

When I got back into my apartment, I called my friend who had the keys bitched to her how I hate men, watched the office while thinking about having sex with Jim on the office while Dwight videotaped us, and fell asleep.