So I had the good fortune of running into the ‘love of my life’ circa first year at the grocery store yesterday, dressed in my skate shop casual finest threads, clutching not one, but three! packages of bacon (it was on sale, and I’m a sucker for a deal, no matter how lame).
He, of course, looked fantastic, and was with a woman friend, I might as well have had a sign around my neck that read “I’m eating away my pain”.
This is the guy that I had a brief rebound (his, not mine) dalliance with at the tail end of my first year in rez, and then it ended badly. I’m talking ‘gets an honorary mention at the wedding’-type of embarrassing end to a pseudo-relationship here. Pretty much everyone who’s heard the full version of the ‘Dumpy Dave’ story has ended up wincing, or on the ground gasping for air because they’re laughing so hard.
That’s officially the last time I stroll out of the house looking like a hot mess even if it’s just a jaunt to the corner store.