Death by Starbucks

Coffee date #3. Skipped writing about #2..nothing of importance came from it. Last night I get a wild hair up my ass to meet up with Flame. I don't know why I always think this will be a good idea, and in theory would be. Meet up with an old love, shoot the shit, drink the coffee, get the shakes, go home. You would think, not in this case. In this particular case, we sit around and beat the conversation horse till it's black and blue. Plan is to meet up at 7:30. As i'm driving there i'm beating my steering wheel screaming "why am I doing this." I pull up and of course flame is already there. I roll in make a joke about being late, per usual. Mosey up to the barista order a coffee. Roll outside and start talking about nonsense. Like flame is really sweet and whatnot, but for fucks sake he tells a long story. I found myself watching the fat skateboarder across the street try to grind the bus bench hoping he would fall so I would have some excitement. After what seemed like 4 hours of conversation I hear a beep in my purse. I look at my phone and it's this kid that I hooked up with the other night. "hey what are you doing?", I look at flame who is going on and on about his cat and look back down at my phone, I respond with "nothing, how bout you?" I know I am Lucifer. So now flame and I are talking and I'm sitting thinking about this kid and wondering if I can manage to get out of coffee date and still be home in time to hang out. Another beep. Grab the phone, "well I got a 12 pack and these earrings I don't know what to do with." #1 thank god I left my earrings at his house, #2 12 pack = love. I realize it's only 9:15 and Flame and I are now talking about where we grocery shop at, I respond with "Ya! Come over." SENT. Shit now I only have about 15 minutes to get out of there. I start fidgeting around and say something about having to go grocery shopping on the way home. Flame seems startled but after 2 hours of conversation suicide, I could care less. We get up to leave, Flame walks me out to my car. I try to give a quick hug goodbye, but I can tell he's going in for the kill. I quickly turn my head and mumble something about hanging out next week. GOD. I'm in my car speeding home like a bat outta hell. Hottie hasn't text me back yet, so I'm thinking he went to bed or something. I roll around the corner and there he is sitting on the steps of my apt..booze in tow. Adorable.

Burning Bridges

I need to contact a doctor to have my thumbs cut off. I really think it will be the only way to save face at all during a night of serious drinking. Friday night a few of my girlfriends and I decided we were going to go out and paint the town red. Great idea, so I thought. We started the evening with a few glasses of wine, which quickly became drinking straight out of the wine bottle. Classy I know. I then spilled red wine on my white shirt. I should have know then that the night was going to be horrific. After wine the Captain called and I answered. Had a shot of that. We then went to the first bar which consisted of a mix of frat and douche. To spice things up as if I wasn't already spiced, I had a shot of Patron. I fucking hate tequila so I have no idea where this urge came from. I'm blaming the captain. Stay at douch central for a few then went down to my local watering hole. Now mind you I was already fucked up at this point and should have went home and put myself to bed...but what fun would that be.
At the watering hole I drank 2 tall cans and had another shot of some fruity large thing. It was beat and I did not need it. What happened next happens to all us girls at one point or another while we are painting the town red. I sent the drunk text. No biggie except I sent it to Flame. UGH. As if I haven't fucked with his head enough right. The breezy text was sent at 1am. Wonder what I was thinking about. Without completely reliving the horror, I asked him to come hang out, he declined, I insisted, he declined, I then said "you know it will be a good time", no reponse, I then asked again, and he wrote "why?"
So embarassing I want to die. But of course, I need to make everything right and I sent him a text yesterday to which he did not respond. I feel really excellent about this. If it was anyone else, who cares. BUT I worked really hard to file this relationship of sorts under friendship and rebuild the bridge that I not only burned but blew up just to lose it all to a few shots and some tall cans. A small side note that need be noted, while leaving the bar I barfed in the cab on the way home. I am one classy bitch.