DD: Hey I’m outside
Team Gingerbread: Of what?
DD: Your place, Am I early?
Team Gingerbread: (buzzing him in) Early for what?
We’re not really friends anymore, mostly because of that incident, but I made a concerted effort to not make things too awkward when I was forced to hang with DD (the love of my livfe circa 2003) and P, a mutual friend from my residence hall days.
Friday night was rather tame, settling to watch Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen (my choice) over pizza and beer. I felt really uncomfortable, he didn’t really seem to notice, the perhaps that’s why P excused herself so early and spent the majority of the night in her room/the kitchen futzing around. He kissed me once or twice and I jokingly told him that he was distracting me from the entertainment, but it was ok, I just don’t know if I’m ready to burn that bridge one more time. WE drank a bit more and somehow I ended up with little scratches all over my body, who’s origins are rather suspect but I can’t quite recall how they got there…
Saturday was a no-go, because I had the biggest headache from easily the worst weekend work day ever, it seems only the irate customers come out on Saturdays, joy.
I had steeled myself for Sunday, thinking that it could easily top Saturday’s hellishness, because it was one girl’s last day and she threatened to bail on her shift, I in no uncertain terms to her to politely fuck herself and that she’s better show up for her scheduled shift. She did, but she wasn’t happy about it, and spent the entire day in the back room cleaning.
As we left work on Sunday it was so humid (it’s never like that in Alberta) that it literally felt like steeping out of the freezer to go into the sauna. I have been on this skating to work kick but I couldn’t even skate to the bus stop because by then my face would be running down my shirt. I foolishly chose to skate home after a bus detour and ended up a sweaty mess with only 1.5 hours to go before I met up with DD and P again, so I chatted with The Pansy via text from New York and showered/got ready.
We went out for dinner instead of staying in and then bought booze back to P’s condo for the movie, a forgettable National Lampoon Direct-to-Video number. I wore my new Orisue shorts partly because they’re rad and I can’t really wear them all that much at work and partly because they’ll keep me pure, as they are so tight that I’ have a hard time getting them off sober.
P retired early again, I don’t really know why she’s so tired as of late, but it’s not like I’m going to sleep with someone at your house with you in the other room. If you had asked me 4 years ago you might have gotten a different answer, but I digress. We made out a little more but I jokingly put the brakes on it with a playful ‘are you sure you’re ready to push your luck?’ – a veiled reference to our past drunken shenanigans. He backed off a little but I still didn’t end up getting home until well past 4 am.