Can I get a fuck you?

That’s right, I am pissed and I’m not taking any prisoners. I’m ready to burn this mother down! Let me explain…

The downward spiral began Thursday evening. I was approaching glass no. 3 of red, when the sadness sank in. I had reached that level of tipsy—I should’ve gone to bed after glass no.2. But we all know I have a problem with limits (especially when it comes to drinking).

I vented to Gizzy. I never heard from Wes. And yes, it made me a little sad.

In typical Lucky fashion I had done the wrong move and sent him a text Wednesday around lunch, asking him if he was fully recovered from the weekend. Got nothin’.

It’s one thing to give a guy your number and never hear a peep. But then to reach out, even just a little bit, and get reassurance, that nope, you don’t deserve a chance…

Ouch.

Then come the questions and wondering—why did he even get my number in the first place? What’s his problem? Where’s another bottle of wine?

Gizzy and I are constantly trying to lessen the blow of rejection. We know we shouldn’t care when someone doesn’t value us like they should. But, we’re human. And rejection hurts.

My initial plan was to ask Wes to the wedding I have this weekend. But since he’s a no show, I asked my friend from work—boots. Should be interesting.

Friday night, I was feeling better, ready to hit the streets and down some booze. But first, I had a meeting at the magazine—it’d been weeks since I could get away from the office to attend one.

Once I got there, Jesus Belt was nowhere to be found, but we started the meeting without him. Then, I got an apology text from him, saying he was on his way.

When he arrived, he was looking rather dapper in his ironed oxford shirt and sports jacket…Then, he asked me if I wanted to meet his dog—an animal he adopted a few weeks prior.

“Sure!” I said.

Once he brought the dog back into the office, he (JB) was acting shy…it was the weirdest thing. However, I brushed it off and went on to margaritaville. That’s when JB was curious as to what I was doing that night. I explained I was out with my girlfriends, but asked what he was up to. So, he invited me to join him later at another bar. I asked him what the scene was—hot dudes?

“Wall to wall studburgers,” he said.

“No it’s not.”

“Okay, well at least ankle deep,” he replied.

“No. And besides everyone has a girlfriend anyway. Even you. That’s no fun.”

Ehhh, tequila talking? But more than what I typed, the bigger surprise was his response—the gf was no more.

I didn’t want to get into THAT conversation, so I kindly told him goodnight.

Saturday, I had the grande idea to get completely wasted at lunch, which resulted in midday texting to Fratty. At first, things were going good…until Fratty laid it out: “What do you want from me? I heard you were back with the cheating disgusting trashy bastard ex.”

What. The. Fuck.

Who else would he have heard it from but the bastard himself? So, I ask you, why in the fuck would the bastard ex be going around telling people we were back together, when in fact, he’d been treating me like a piece of shit—nothing like a girlfriend. One answer: vagina block.

I was pissed. I wanted to ask the bastard what his problem was, but did I want him to know that I was desperately seeking the men of my past for an innocent romp? I decided I didn’t care—it’s none of his business and I can, and will, do whomever I please.

So I asked him, and of course he said he hadn’t talked to Fratty in a year or something. Well I call bullshit, even though i never responded to his message. So there I was. Drunk. Livid. With not even a Fratty to fuck.

Naturally, there was only one thing to do—eat a bacon cheeseburger from Wendy’s and then go to sleep way too early for a Saturday night.

Oh, but then, I awoke around midnight, to a message from JB himself. We started texting…and before we knew it, we had been talking for two hours. And I was cracking up, laughing.

He invited me to come over, join him for a beer, but that’s something I’ve done before (with other guys) and it never ends the way I hope. So, I politely declined, and he agreed he wanted to continue our flirty banter in person.

I will say, I’m a but surprised, and a bit giddy over it. The beginning is always so fun, right?

We had another conversation Sunday night, and it was quite delightful…just when I thought things were in the dump. When one door closes, another one opens…and it might just be a sign from Jesus.

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6 thoughts on “Can I get a fuck you?

  1. mairedubhtx says:

    The early days are always the best. Enjoy them.

  2. justmarriedgirl says:

    Wait! I think I predicted this back when you had your first meeting and hated him (or I’m just taking way too much credit for absolutely no reason)! Hurray!!! It’s playing out just like a movie, so at minimum, you’ll have a script idea. Right?!

    Can’t wait to see what happens next.

    • Melissa says:

      Yes, please romcom your life for our entertainment! I like where this story is going.

    • Yes, you did mention something about it…and I thought about you! I even went back and found your comment…because that’s how much free time I have:

      Lucky, I feel like you are living in a movie script! You’re the cool, young writer who battles with DB editor. Eventually, you win and he gets his comeuppance. There’s also a love story thrown in (NOT with DB editor, of course). And then there’s your fun, also cool BFF who just moved to a big city and is living a fancy new life, and she gives you advice and support and has her own adventures.

      I love it.

      Okay, I am SUCH a huge nerd.

      Haha~I’ll keep you posted on the script 🙂

      -L

      • justmarriedgirl says:

        Haha! Turns out HE is the love interest and not the DB. It’s a good twist. Loving it!!

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