New ink, as a valentine to myself.
Met up with my recently ex girlfriend and a few friends for a drink at a sports bar. (What was I thinking? I have no idea.) Fast forward to making out with said ex girlfriend in the bathroom. After leaving the bathroom, and heading out of the bar, It occurs to my drunken self that we’ve been acting like a couple and we are not a couple. So I announce to our friends that we are actually are broken up. Insert very angry ex girlfriend. Fast forward to me crying alone in my car. Drive stupidly lost around the south side of town, drunk dial ex girlfriend for awhile. Drunk dial Ali. Drunk dial anyone with a phone. Find myself downtown. Decide to go to the strip club. (When you’re drunk on Valentines day and your newly ex girlfriend hates you this seems like an AWESOME idea.)
The Ugly.Punch a dyke at the strip club after throwing back a final Jack and Coke. Leave very quickly as she talks to security. Somehow get home. In a liquored haze about to pass out text people that I don’t understand why keep texting me. ( I know realize these are people I called earlier.) Call best bud before crashing.
“Tasha,
I drank to much
and punched Krystal in the face at Fantasies
then I left
because I didn’t want to go to jail.”
Wake up five hours later to a bazillion texts, a stiff hand, and the horror that is my patchwork memory of the evening. As I’m writing this blog my best bud’s girl chats me
Luciana: Why are you up?
(it’s six in the morning here, and they are on the opposite coast, so it’s about three hours later there.)
Jaybird: rough night
Luciana: Yeah I know, I heard all about it at 3 this morning when you called Tasha. I was mad at her for not telling you I think you’re a bad ass.
I need to just go back to writing poetry.
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