Hormonal

It’s been a long while since the joys of being a female have really affected me.  I used to suffer the monthly mental breakdown, but until this past weekend, it’s been years.

Friday evening after work, several coworkers were headed up to the Sunbird Lounge that sits atop the mountain overlooking our office.  I had always been curious what it was like, so I tagged along.  A jazz quartet played while we munched on a free buffet and sipped on wine and two-dollar-off cocktails.  It wasn’t long before I was raided with a barrage of questions.  "Where’s Bobby?"  "So, how is Bobby liking Colorado?"  "Is Bobby going to meet you up here this evening?"  I can’t even count how many times I had to explain that Bobby moved back to Tennessee.  Every time I heard an "Aw, I’m sorry," I countered with, "No, don’t feel sorry.  It was my decision."  Of course, all of the girls wanted details, wanted to know exactly what happened, but I just gave them a brief synopsis and moved on.

Kathy had invited a couple of former coworkers to join us, so I also got to meet some new people.  I immediately hit it off with one guy in particular.  He is also an engineer in the software industry, so we had plenty of things to talk about.  We chatted for hours, and the more I drank, the more uninhibited I became (like I’m not already uninhibited enough for the entire population).  Before I knew it, Kathy, Chet, and myself were the last few in the entire lounge.  The music had stopped, and waiters were turning chairs upside down on top of the tables.  I had intended to make my way home after just a couple of hours, but that didn’t happen.  We paid our tabs and each took our separate cars downtown.

We met back up at Southside Johnny’s.  I’ve been there a couple of times.  It has a reputation as a biker bar, but it’s quite a large place.  They always have fantastic live bands, and the dance floor is unusually crowded for such a venue.  Judy, another coworker, and her date for the evening joined us.  I ordered Tuaca tea for the table, and Kathy, Chet, and I grooved on the dance floor to just about every other song.  Chet was surprisingly smooth on his feet, and I soon found out why.  Kathy divulged that he was a former erotic dancer.  At one point during the night, he leaned over and said in my ear, "You know, if there was a pole out there, I could really break it down!"  Holy hell.  That sounds like something I would say.

As the night wore on, I noticed Chet squeezing in closer and closer, and by 1am, we were making out at the table.  He was a good kisser — a damn good kisser.  I haven’t had someone kiss me like that in a long time.  It was nice, but at the same time, it left me with this strange feeling of… I don’t know.  Awkwardness?  About half an hour before closing, we all decided to call it a night.  Chet walked me to my car.  He didn’t try to kiss me goodnight, which I was honestly kind of thankful for.  He just quickly hugged me, told me to have a great night, and sent me on my way.

On the way to my apartment, which was just a couple of miles down the road, I passed McDonald’s.  It was so tempting, but since it was well past 2am, I drove on by.  I changed into pajamas, and immediately left again to go back for a cheeseburger and fries.  What can I say?  Alcohol makes me crave greasy food.  I ate, passed out, and woke up a mere four hours later.  I had a splitting headache and couldn’t get back to sleep to save my life.  I searched the medicine chest for some Advil, but lo and behold, Bobby’s dumb ass took the entire bottle with him.  I was pissed.  I ended up drinking some nighttime, severe cold Theraflu.  It had acetomenaphine in it, and it knocked me out for about four more hours.  I felt a little better when I woke up the second time.

I spent the rest of my Saturday on the couch, watching Buffy on DVD and chatting up Tammy, Alsie, and my brother.  I only got up for about an hour to make Spaghetti and brownies — mmm, comfort food.  I woke up early again on Sunday, and I didn’t do much more than I had on Saturday.  I did clean up my place and do laundry, but I spent most of the day in tears. 

David has been on my mind quite a bit lately, especially since I’ve talked to him several times in the past couple of months.  I never resolved my feelings for him, and I realized Sunday that I probably never will.  I fantasized about what our life could be like togther, and thanks to the massive dose of hormones surging through my body, I came ridulously close to dialing his number and spilling my guts.  I then thought about the fact that one day he’s going to call me with news — news that he’s engaged, that’s gotten married, or even that he’s got a baby on the way.  I cried more.  Crying like that is not something I normally find myself doing, but I have to admit, I felt better after getting it all out.  I guess a girl really does just need to let loose with the emotions every once in awhile.

Apparently, during my uninhibited state Friday night, I made plans with Chet for sushi lunch on Monday.  He shot me an email yesterday morning to ask if our plans were still on.  I agreed, thinking that this included both me and Kathy.  Wrong.  It was just the two of us sharing raw fish on a single platter.  Lunch was nice, and we were actually able to hear each other without the booming music ringing in our ears.  He’s a very attractive guy, but I still just wasn’t feeling it.  As we parted, we simply hugged.  He didn’t try to kiss me, but he asked me to call if I wanted to get together again sometime this week.

Later, Chet admitted that he was a little nervous because he had also just ended a long relationship.  He said that he hadn’t been on "date" in quite a while and that he really likes me.  He felt like we hit it off over the weekend and that he restrained himself Friday night because he wasn’t sure how interested I would be after just ending things with Bobby.  I was just bluntly honest with him.  I told him that I was a little nervous at lunch, too.  Actually, I just felt a little awkward.  I explained that I’m not really ready to consider my dating again so soon.  I’m bitter about Bobby’s actions over the last couple of months, and I don’t want to drag those feelings into any new relationships — be it friendships or partnerships.  I also apologized for my behavior Friday night.  I shouldn’t have acted that way when I knew I wasn’t ready to handle the consequences.  He took it well.  He’s felt a lot of those same feelings in regards to his ex, and he wants to remain friends.  Sounds like a plan to me.

While at work yesterday, Thor sent me an IM.  In his words, "There are some truths about the Bobby situation that I think you need to know.  I’m not even sure that you want to know, but if you

do, call me tonight."  I gave him a ring after Monday Night Raw, and we had a long talk.

Bobby was never in an accident.  He’s not in a hospital or rehab somewhere.  He never tried to hurt himself.  His dad never came to meet him somewhere in Kansas.  Bobby was in St. Louis… at Thor’s house.  All those times that I talked to Thor, Bobby was sitting right next to him.  That’s why every time I mentioned that I didn’t believe Bobby’s story, Thor simply said, "Rachel, you are a smart girl."  Thor felt absolutely terrible for not telling me this sooner, but Bobby was in such a broken, emotional, drunken state, he was afraid to be too hard on him.  He was afraid of what he might do.

Bobby showed up Tuesday night with a bottle of liquor — Tuaca, to be exact.  He drank the entire thing.  That’s why when Thor first called me to see how I was feeling, he was a little surprised and confused when I told him about Bobby’s strange text message.  That’s why he told me that I shouldn’t worry — that he was sure Bobby was fine.  When I first told Thor the next night that I didn’t think Bobby had even been in an accident, Bobby immediately called.  He heard me say it.  Thor didn’t leave him a voicemail.  He heard me say that I knew he was lying.  Thor had to watch Bobby’s drunk ass make an absolute fool of himself as he told this elaborate lie about his car flipping on I-70 and about not knowing who I am.  Not only was Thor angry at Bobby for putting him in the middle of this situation, he was absolutely dumbfounded when, an hour later, Bobby told him that he had called his dad to get him to "back up his story."  His dad, I’m sure, wanted no part of this little scheme.  That’s exactly why he refused to talk to me.

After Bobby started to sober up, he told Thor that he kind of felt bad about what he’d done.  Then, to dull the pain, he just got drunk again.  He told Thor that he planned to just play the story out.  Over time, he could pretend that his memory was slowly coming back.  He honestly thought that I was stupid enough to fall for his dirty little trick.  I can only imagine how disappointed his parents are in him right now.  His dad had already told him that I would end up leaving him if he continued drinking the way he was.  Now, he calls his dad in the middle of the night, drunk no less, to ask him to back up this ridiculous lie about having amnesia and not knowing who I am?  He is back in Chattanooga now, and I seriously hope his parents get him some help.  He needs it more than I ever could have realized.

If you’re going to try to outsmart me, you better actually be smart.

Cheers,
Felina