posted by dave on Monday, January 2, 2006 at 1:10 PM in category daily, drink

After reading this, you may decide that I'm an asshole.

If you do, then you're in good company, because I agree with you.

I can tell you what happened, but I cannot tell you what I said to make it happen. This stupid discretion thing is such a pain.

So I can tell you that I made MixedSignalGirl cry last night, and that's about it. Even if I tell you that I was being completely honest, even if I tell you that we've always been brutally honest with each other, even if I tell you that I'm as bothered by what I had to say as she was, none of that matters because I can't tell you what I said. I can't tell you because, because...

Fuck! I can't even tell you why I can't tell you.

So feel free to let your imagination run away with you, if that's what you want to do. I made the girl who's probably the only person to love me in over a decade - maybe ever for all I know - cry. I deserve whatever ire your imagination can generate, because I knew before I said anything what the outcome was going to be, and I still said it.

SCRIBBLERESQUE PARENTHETICAL THOUGHT: This is completely unrelated, but I'm looking at the comic at davethepa's journal as I write this, and I really wish I could draw. I should work on that I think.

Anyway, there are two slightly mitigating factors. First, everything I said was the truth, even though it made zero sense, not even to me. Second, we've had a couple of talks since, and we're okay again. Until next time I suppose. Perhaps she'll learn to not ask questions of me unless she's sure that she wants to know the answer.

Not that I'm blaming her. Not at all. It's my stupid heart's fault. Again.

All of this drama took place at Buckhead's. I'd gone there to pass the time last night, rather than just sit around the house waiting for Nat to show up in my visitor list. Plus, I did need to talk to MixedSignalGirl. Plus they still have Upland Chocolate Stout on tap.

I called her from the Hooter's parking lot, and I made a quick run into that place to talk with my cousin Jeff for a few minutes, then I went across the street to Buckhead's.

As I said, I can't get into the conversation too much. Or at all.

To drink, I had a couple pints of Upland Chocolate Stout (262) and, after MixedSignalGirl had left in tears, I had a Weihenstephaner (311). Then I remembered to order some fried green tomatoes for VigilanteGirl.

I wrote recently that sometimes shit just happens. Well, shit is definitely happening. I wish I could explain it. I wish I could have explained it to MixedSignalGirl, and I wish I could explain it to my readers, and I wish I could explain it to myself.

But I can't, so I must be an asshole.

And that's right back where I started with this entry.

post a comment

If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.

I'll pretty much approve anything except SPAM comments, or comments that clearly have no purpose except to piss me off, or comments that are insulting to a previous commenter.

Use anything you want for your name and email address. I think it has to at least look like a valid email address though.

mysterious gray box mysterious blue box mysterious red box mysterious green box mysterious gold box

search main 'blog





Search word(s)
   help me!

blog favorites

the convenience of grief
merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
nothing personal
the one
dream sweet dreams for me
the willow bends and so do i
on bloodied ground
lack of inertia
thinning the herd
or maybe not
here's looking at you
what i miss
who wants to play?
feverish thoughts
the devil inside?
my cat ate my homework
don't say i didn't warn you
my god, it's full of stars
hold on a second, koko, i'm writing something
you know?
apples and oranges
happy new year
pissing on the inside
remembering dad

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.