I was heading out on a ‘guys night’ with one of my very good friends from work, and his brother and another friend. Yes, I am aware that I am not a guy, however, I do tend to abide by the Bro Code, and I easily end up as a wingman. Tonight, was supposed to be one of those nights.
On this particular night we headed to a club that was typically filled with metro-sexual males and ‘fresh meat’ females. Precisely why my older friends loved it. I was going there for a drink and a dance, knowing full well my intentions were to lose myself in my own little world until the boys were ready to move on. We headed straight for the rooftop bar, and within minutes I had lost my friends and was edging closer to the bar. This was a normal rooftop bar that was filled with short tempers and shorter skirts, I didn’t mind.
I should mention it was the first time I had gone out, with a large visible tattoo; The robot on my left arm, so I wasn’t used to attention concerning tattoos yet. Sure enough the robot caught two guys’ attention, one grabbed my arm and pulled me over to their table. I am normally polite with this sort of thing, so I humoured them for a few minutes as they talked tattoos- comparing their tribal to my cartoonish art, I sat and laughed politely hoping one would buy me a drink. Of course, the more musclier, dick-headed of the two asked his friend to go and get us a round of drinks, he brings a girl back and I quickly notice they were relying on me to make her feel comfortable. Two strangers, whose names I had forgotten were expecting me to be their wingman. – of course I obliged.
The night was progressing and I was becoming more and more intoxicated, thanks to my friends who’s names I still cannot recall. The dick-headed one was getting closer to me, and putting his arm around me, and I still remember thinking “ Ahhh, I’ll have to take one for the team” perhaps in hindsight on my team I had my liver and vagina in mind. It was getting late, something like 2 or 3am, and he had been practically sitting on my lap for hours when my phone rang. It was my friend, in a state, even in my drunken mess I knew that she needed help and that I should get to her. The problem was: The Dick-Head, he wanted to come home with me. I remember all the lines he used: I’ll just sleep on your couch, I’ll leave you and your friend alone its ok… blah blah blah. Eventually I gave in, I needed to get home so he was apparently coming with me. We got in the cab and headed towards my house, the whole trip I kept thinking, what am I doing? What am I doing? Getting to my house is a bit of a maze, there are several round-a-bouts and one way streets to manoeuvre, it was at the first round-a-bout that I decided this couldn’t happen. I knew from earlier in the night that Dick-Head lived in a suburb about 20 minutes north of mine, so I asked the driver to pull over, I let the driver knew that this was the first of two stops and that my lovely gentleman friend was going to pay for the trip. I did not look back. I did not look back.
How many times can a person say they walked away from something or someone and they did not look back? Few. I can count the times on my left hand.
So when I saw my friend sitting on my doorstep, also drunk, crying I knew I had done the right thing. Bros before hoes. Two hours, a drunk drive, and a drunk dive into the public pool and we were laughing about my night.
Surely, after ditching this guy in a cab, after the cab had driven to my house, which he had to pay for.. and then presumably to his place which he also had to pay for.. I would never see or hear from him again. Right? Wrong.
That night I received a text message, and this conversation is a direct quote courtesy of my wonderful Iphone.
DH: Hey b@be. How u feelin 2day? Im pretty crook hay.
Me: Yeah, I’m feeling fine, went for a swim and got over it all J
DH: O rly? Want to pic up where we left off, tonight?
Me: SO you’re going to catch a cab back to a street, and I’ll get in?
DH: Ha ha. No, let me come over. I want to put my hard dick into that fuckin wet cunt of urs.
Me: Oh, you’re such a gentleman.
DH: WTF? Wats your problem, I just thought you might want a good fuck. But obviously your too scared of a good root, so fuck you selfish bitch.
Me: Ok, message me when you learn some manners and how to be a man
DH: message me when your not a frigid bitch.
So I learned quickly, exactly the problem. If you don’t put out, you have to put up with a lot of shit. But more than anything, I had the funniest text to show everyone I knew.
These are a collection of memories, maybe even mistakes, not necessarily in any order and the names have been changed for privacy reasons (With that being said, I feel like some of these people should be named for the protection of the rest of the human race).
I was always told the best way to get over someone is to get under somebody else. I never wanted this to be my philosophy, and I learned the hard way, that when I put it into practice it was not enough to fix me.
This isn’t the beginning of the story, and you might not ever know the beginning, but it is not important when relating to, or laughing at, these stories.
So i thought of a few different names for this post but none seemed quite right… If you’re a girl who’s been on a shocking ‘date’… or a guy for that matter If you’ve ever been left hurt and insecure… If sometimes all you want is some action.. If you fucked up and hurt the one you love.. If you tried to get over them by getting under someone else…
You will love every post I make in upcoming days/weeks/months.
For the past year I have been drowning in a depression that a lot of people are aware of, I haven’t been able to properly accept the mental trouble I am in, nor have I asked for help. I am not someone who believes I have depression every second day. A few tears does not make depression. I am not the boy who cried wolf. My pain is real, and so is yours.
I made a mistake. I believe I am on my way to fixing this mistake with the man I love, however, in between then and now I have managed to do so many things I am not proud of, but equally as many things I am willing to laugh at, and be laughed at for.
Please spread the word about this.
If you need something to laugh at If you need to know you’re not alone
I find it incredibly funny that people make assumptions about me via Tumblr. A post about enjoying vegan food/trying the vegan foods my housemates who are vegan makes me a vegan and I am no longer allowed to eat non-vegan food, and facebook status updates must be written. A photograph of me…
If you didn’t ‘give a shit’ you wouldn’t waste your time whinging about it now, but here you are giving them what they want.
I’m trying to plug my ears to the white noise of wasted years. I want to drown it out because these days it’s all I hear. I know it can hurt so fucking bad, because I’ve seen that place. No matter how you try, you can’t see through the pain. It’s not a glamorous place, it’s a fucking scary place.. and it forces the question: “Do I have what it takes?” Trust me, you don’t want to know what’s behind these eyes, so turn your head away. Trust me, you don’t want to know what’s behind these eyes.. so turn your head away. I’ve done some things that I’m not proud of. I’ve lost all respect for myself.. and I’ve lived through nights that I’d hoped would be my last. Trust me, you don’t want to know what’s behind these eyes, so turn your head away. And I can’t undo or erase what haunts me to this day, but I’ll learn from my mistakes. We all have stories we’ll never tell, we all have secrets we’ll take to our graves, because no mater how we try.. nothing can change our mistakes. Nothing can change our mistakes. Nothing can change our mistakes. Nothing can change our mistakes. Nothing can change our mistakes..
The full song, along with the audio for the quote I posted last night. Go it Alone was such an incredible band.
Real glasses suck, they fog up, bang-hair gets tore out, you can’t wear sunglasses. So you think you are being stylish, and hip but really you look like a douche. Please stop before I pop those fake lenses out.