So I figured I'd write an epilogue on the last blog. I re-read and it sort of leaves the reader hanging, doesn't it. Here's how the rest of the weekend played out.
Friday night I was at my apartment with my friends getting ready to go out. We had a few sips and headed over to my lease favorite dance bar. This bar is chock-full of military men, and hoochie mama's. The rest are clad in flanel shirts and hunting caps (I wish I was exagerating). It ain't a pretty sight.
Afterwards we grab a slice of pizza and are waiting for a cab for a friend. Who comes waltzing in? None other than Flower Boy!! I was like WOW This man has BALLZZZZ for showing his face. Especially after the way I ever-so-diplomatically told him to fuckoff at 2:30 am when he called last weekend. I wasn't overly nice with him either this time. He tried to pawn it off as wanting to talk, blablabla... you know what? Save it. I told you not to call again and you did. The sick and twisted thing in all this: I really want to sleep with him. I'm in need of sex, and well he's hot and I'm leaving town this time..... muhahhaha I have just accepted a job in my hometown. No more crazy adventures for me as I'll be living with Mom for a little while (very temporarily, of course!)
Closing the chapter on Sober Cutie, I realized that he can talk shit about how crazy I am to his friends all he wants. Fact is, we weren't even going out and he made me feel like such a bag of shit and a headcase. Classic signs of a manipulator, and who needs an asshole like that? So I have not heard from him ever since that faithful night he told me he wasn't around because I didn't put out. And, I know I didn't put out because my instincts told me he was not going to stick around for long. I was way out of his league.... He may have been good looking, but I have the charm, wit, and intelligence to find myself a hot man with those qualities and more.
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