Monday, August 1, 2011

The cunt-slut-bitch

Things were going pretty well with Bartender Boyfriend (BBF), and it wasn't okay. He was consuming my thoughts much more than I wanted him to and telling all my friends how I felt about him. I tried making out with other guys, but he was always in the corner of my mind. It was gross.

Night after night we kept going back to the same bar, and I could usually count on this one girl to be down to go with me. Not because she was always down for a good time or because we were good friends, but because she clearly wanted to be me and have my life... Including BBF.

*Quick history lesson: This same girl also had a train ran on her IN MY BED, wet spots and all.*

One night we went out with two of our other girls expecting another night like the rest. After the two who we were supposed to stay with decided to leave early, I made sure BBF wouldn't mind being our taxi and hotel for the night. Considering he thought he'd get another chance at stuffing my taco, he was totally down.

After the bar closed, we were waiting around with the other bartenders while they all closed up. They were all bitching about my friend being with me, calling her a needy, unwanted slut, among other things. Even Sparkles is a good friend, so I did my best to stand up for her until she couldn't handle it anymore, so we went to wait in the parking garage.

It was after 4am at this point, and I was falling asleep against the wall, standing up. Narcolepsy was taking over, and there was nothing I could do about it, but I tried. I left my stuff with her in the garage and threw up a quick BRB. After pinning BBF in the corner for a drive-by make-out session, I headed to the bathroom.

Next thing I know, I'm running around the bar frantically trying to find BBF and my "friend."
"They left about twenty minutes ago... You didn't go with them?"
"No, I didn't. Apparently I fell asleep in the bathroom and that cunt-slut-bitch took all my shit."
I'm not going to lie. I'm a fan of the c-word, but I only use it when necessary. All of my stuff that she was "watching" was gone. She was gone. He was gone. I had nothing, and for some reason I was terribly embarrassed.
"Nevermind. They're probably waiting for me out there. Y'all have a good night!"
I went back out to the garage that was entirely empty, and realized I was locked in. I had no idea how to get out of this garage without a key, the bar was officially closed, and my phone was MIA. Eventually I found it, along with my phone and purse, scattered throughout the garage in spots I know I hadn't been near.

This bitch set me up. She hid my stuff, took my man, and left me... Knowing exactly where I was.

Finding my belongings was practically pointless. I had no service to call or text anyone. It was me and the scary, dark, cold walls. I tried climbing all over the place, hitting buttons I probably shouldn't have, and trying to open all of the doors.

It was 5:30am before someone patrolling outside heard me banging on the doors from the inside and let me out. Still mortified, I told him I had a ride and walked around the corner where there were benches full of homeless people. Enter breakdown. I began sobbing as I went through my phone hoping someone would be awake and drive thirty minutes to come get me.
"I just got home babe, but if you give me twenty minutes, I'll come get you."
If there's ever someone to call in this situation, it was definitely someone who would do anything for a chance with me. This person happened to be my boss.

A little after 6am I was finally in a bed with someone holding me, calming me down. I had texts and voicemails from BBF, but it wouldn't have been pretty if I responded to those at this point. To make me even more pissed off, there was not a single message was from the stupid, shallow cunt to prove my suspicions wrong.

Looking back, I probably should have given the bossman a blow j or something, but that wasn't happening. His reward was me in his bed and getting to spend time with me in the morning as he drove me back to my girls' house while I tried to piece my life together.
"Baby. I'm so sorry. Where did you go? She said you left, but I heard you were looking for us. Please answer me. I'm so sorry. I want to take you to lunch."
Confirmed. She had set me up and taken my man, and I had to see her face (without slamming it) at the apartment before heading back to our home outside the city.
"You're a fucking bitch, but I don't need to tell you that. You are the worst human being I have ever come in contact with and I hope you know I want nothing more than for you to die at this moment."
Harsh? Absolutely not. She deserved to hear the truth, since none of her other "friends" were going to say it to her. Plus, I had to drive her skank ass home that morning instead of taking BBF up on his lunch offer.

Gotdamm, I'm a good fucking person. Too good.

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