Weird Fishes

This morning I was woken up at 7am with a phone call from my 20 year old hot dish. I've been acting like a crazy 18 year old phone stalker with him ever since I left - sending him text messages, emailing him, calling him. Like I mentioned before, I deleted his phone number from my phone so this call was a surprise. So anyway, for the first time we actually talked on the phone. It turns out that he drank too much Patrone and took too much Aderol hence he's awake 4am his time, 7am my time. Speaking to him is like speaking to well, an immature 20 year old kid. It was painful. He was sitting in his apartment in Arizona while his friend Leah (yes, I already tried to look her up on Facebook) was passed out in the living room. Like a crazy woman, I offered to buy him a plane ticket out to NYC (he's never been) but he declined the offer because he has, "too much work to do." I realized besides great sex, we don't have much in common. I will try to curb my fantasies about him today.

Last night on my way to my buddy's house, I passed a Frenchman and his two year old kid (who had a scarf tied around his neck - how oh so French). The dad was checking me out. All I could think of is how if I was was either dating or married to him, him and his son would go back and forth at what an idiot I am in French while I sat there at the table without a clue what the fuck they were saying.

The faux pas of the day with men is - BAD SHOES. If a guy is wearing bad shoes it is a deal breaker for me. To be safe wear gray New Balances.

I thought this time I'd keep all of my promises. I thought you were the girl I always dreamed about.

After work I went to meet friends at a dive bar by NYU with $3 tap beers. As the first one there I sat at the bar and pulled out my book. Four loud undergraduate students were going on and on about Indonesia. I don't know how these four losers became friends...oh, yeah I do. They are all losers that found each other and found out that they like Indonesia. They probably all went for a couple of weeks and now they think they are experts on the subject. Did I mention they were all crackers? All I could hear is, "Well in Indonesia all they care is about what kind of religion you are and in Indonesia, everyone asks if you are married...." I almost wanted to take the muddle the bartender was using and stick it in both my ears to blow out my ear drums so I would never have to listen to the word "Indonesia" come out of some snot nosed just turned 21 kid with a small dick.

Instead I decided to put on my iPod (yes I was the bitch listening to the iPod in the bar) and wait. I immediately got hammered after three drinks and by that time my friends were also two drinks deep. We went to another bar where I started to panic and get even more hammered and dropped an "I got to go home vibe." I found a cab, called my 20 year old lover I met out west (we met each other while I was on vacation there last month). He told me he was with his metal band and that he would call me later. It's official, I've been stalking him ever since I've gotten back to NYC with calling him everyday and sending him photos. For every 6 texts and 5 phone calls I get he calls me once. It's like a math equation.

Tonight I am writing his number down on a piece of paper, sticking it in my Bukowski 'Post Office' book and erasing it from my phone. So when I got home I called my best friend Shane who now lives in the south and told him how depressed and broke I was and how I wanted him to come up here and hold me. He told me that I should watch some Red Tube and relax.

While on the phone I put on some Red Tube girl on girl action (which never appealed to me before), got off the phone with Shane, and did my business which miraculously made things better...maybe not so much of a miracle.

I watched The Office and once again wondered what kind of porn Jim watches in real life, made some raviolis, and passed out on my couch.

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.