|Blogs > rad_vlad > Fly or Die|
Don't Be Surprised When A Ho Fucks Around
Don't Be Surprised When A Ho Fucks Around
A few weeks ago my friend S introduced me to his friend L. S and I have been friends for years, going all the way back to kindergarten, but we've had a tumultuous relationship. We would often get in fights with each other if we were around each other for too long, and since we went to school together, we were around each other most of the time. As we grew up, we separated for a bit, first when I started attending a different school, and then when we both attended the same middle school we ran with different crowds. Actually, he ran with a crowd and I ran by myself, because I was an anti-social psychopath. But that's neither here nor there.
So S' mom gave me some stuff to give to him, and when he came over to pick up his things we re-kindled our friendship over a couple pints of Guinness and some burgers. Turns out that when we moderate our time together, we get along really well. As we're talking about how our semesters are going, S brings up the topic of L, and what a topic she is. She's into tall, skinny, dark haired guys, which pretty much defines S to a t, but he's already in a relationship with a girl, so he can't touch her. S decides that, since I'm coming off my own breakup and am more or less a lothario, L might like to meet me.
A couple days later I go to S' place to watch House. Let me say this about Fox: they have some great programming on right now. Between 24, House, the resurgent Family Guy and American Dad, it's hard for me to think of a network that's putting out more high quality programming than Fox (and HBO doesn't; I'm talking basic, not cable). S and I both love this show, so I go over to his place to watch it, and he makes sure to have L there.
My first impression of L is decidedly positive. She's got a really cute Mandy Moore type of face, she has curves exactly where they belong, and she's outgoing and fun to be around. A little before I leave, S and L start snorting lines of "sugar", so I can tell I'm going to have a lot of fun with her.
That Friday we have our first official date; it consists of meeting at a co-op party. The party sucks: one keg, a shitty band playing two floors above, and not too many people. But it's ok, because I'm with L, she looks good, and it looks like I'm gonna get some. Then I make my first big mistake: not wanting to leave S out of the evening, I call him up and ask him if he wants to join us. L and I drive over to his apartment, and while we're waiting in the parking lot, I grab her shirt, pull her close and kiss her. I dig this girl.
But pretty soon, the cracks appear. As the night wears on, L is getting tired and S has to be taken back to his place cause he has work the next day. I tell L to stay awake for me, rush S back to his apartment and then speed back to L's, knock on the door and....nothing. She's asleep. It's perfectly understandable. It's four in the morning, we've been all drinking, she told me she might not be able to stay awake. Still, I'm telling myself these things, trying to deaden my disappointment, but in the back of my mind I'm still thinking "You made it back in 8 minutes, and she couldn't stay awake for 8 minutes?"
The next day, I call her. And call her. And call her some more. I'm usually not in the habit of calling people obsessively, partly because my shitty phone plan only gives me five minutes per day for people who aren't spring customers, but partly because I just don't like calling people more than two times in the same day. Never have. But I'm hooked on this girl, or rather, I'm hooked on the prospect of banging this girl, so I keep calling and calling and calling. Eventually, the day lapses and I go out partying with some other friends. In my drunken revelry I forget about her, but she occupies my thoughts the next day.
I call S that afternoon. Now she's starting to piss me off. She doesn't pick up her phone, she doesn't answer messages. I ask him "Is she deaf, retarded, or just plain rude?", and S says "That's just the way she is man. She told me she got your calls, but sometimes she just doesn't call people back." Now think about this. She got my calls, but rather than call me, she talks to S, and I found out about it through him. Now I'm starting to get pissed, and apparently being pissed strikes a nerve with her, since she calls me later that night with no prompting from me. I invite her over for pizza the next night (those of you who have read my blog before are no doubt aware that in my home, monday night is pizza night). My anger is starting to cool a bit, and I try to remind myself of the reasons I dig her in the first place. Like, she's hot and nasty.
Monday evening rolls around. Generally, it's pretty lonely at my place because I don't have too many visitors, but this night is different from most other nights because not only does L show up to eat, but my friend D shows up as well. Now I love D; he's my former roommate, and though he may be a bit of a slob, I know he's my friend because he's the only person who calls me without me having to call him first. That's the mark of a real friend; they make an effort to stay in touch with you. It's also the mark of a co-dependent, but you can usually tell the difference.
Anyway, D stops by un-announced, and his senses seem to have failed him, because although he can obviously see that I have a pretty girl over for dinner, he stays for an hour and a half. By the time he leaves, L also has to go because she's got work to finish for a class. I kiss L goodbye and silently fume for a bit before going to sleep, cursing my luck for having a cock-blocking asshole for a best-friend.
I don't hear from L for a few days, but I control my phone use, calling her once a day, leaving messages, in general not acting like an obsessive. On Friday, a good five days after I last heard from her, she calls me and asks if I want to do anything that night. There are no parties to go to, and she's too young to go to any of the clubs, so I offer to buy her some cake. We go out to Chili's, and although they have some damn good desert, you should be warned that their Margarita's are for shit. Not nearly enough tequila.
We go back to my place, I make some Brandy Alexander's and we settle down to watch the greatest film of all time, Dark City. L misses half the movie because we're making out. I don't really miss anything because I've seen it close to a hundred times. But for a nasty bitch, she's surprisingly cloistered. She won't let me take her shirt off, even though she gets me out of mine (though, to be fair, this isn't a hard thing to accomplish, since she's gorgeous and I've been drinking heavily). Once the movie is done, I drive her back home and go to sleep, alone, thinking about her once again.
The next day I go to SA for my aunt's wedding and don't get back till Sunday. I try to get in touch with everyone I know, but all the folks are busy doing their own things, so I spend the night by myself. Monday rolls around, and I call up L to see if she wants to come over to eat. She says no, because she's going with S to see Paul Rusesabagina speak. The night's not a total waste since D comes over, and though I'm still pissed at him somewhat, I forgive him since he probably just wanted to try and get that bit of ass for himself.
The next day I call S and tell him I'll be over to watch House, and he tells me that he broke up with his girl the night before, but that he also had sex. With whom? I ask. He says, "Let's just say it has something to do with you." S and I both know a lot of the same people, so I'm going through a mental checklist to think of who it could be. When I get to his place, I ask him who it was, and he tells me to guess. By the grin on his face, I know exactly.
Me: "You fucked L, didn't you?"
S (grinning like an asshole): "Yea, I'm sorry but I just couldn't pass it up."
I spend the rest of the night pissed at both S and L, a seething hate that renders me oblivious to nearly all the other things going on around me. I'm still comunicative, and I respond to the things people say, and outwardly I appear to be very calm, but deep within me there is a boiling sea of rage.
It's not until I get home that I really start to contemplate why it is that I'm upset. I sit down at my dry erase board and start writing the questions I need to answer in order to understand why I'm angry. The conclusion I eventually arrive at is that I think I'm better than S, and the fact that he fucked this girl before I did is more a blow to my ego than anything else. Knowing this about myself eases a bit of my anger, but it's not until a few days later that I really begin to realize why I'm angry and why I shouldn't be.
The Thursday before all this, I met twistedwhore in the middle of the night. About four hours after meeting, we were sex partners. At the time, twisted was seeing another guy that she worked with (you can read her blog for a bit more background on this). I didn't mind being another guy in her life. In fact, I really didn't care at all. I think we both understood very early on and very precisely that she is not a monogamous girl and that to expect her to be would be blind folly. Thus, I accepted the fact that she would sleep with other people, and it didn't trouble me at all.
Spending time with twisted, talking about her and her relationship with the co-worker, it helped me put my relationship with L into perspective. I was angry because I had expected L to be faithful, monogamous to me and me alone. But L was not that type of girl. L IS not that type of girl. She's the type of girl who gets drunk and stoned and sleeps with people pretty much on a whim. To expect anything else would be blind folly.
S and I met at a hooka bar later that night. I told him about all this, about my anger and my sense of betrayal, about twisted and my questions, about my ultimate sense of realization. I wasn't mad at him. I couldn't be. You can't be surprised when a ho fucks around on you; you can't be hurt when you like a skank and she fucks your friend. So I congratulated S on a job well done. As we sat talking, some girl that S was acquainted came over and started talking to S. I stayed for about five minutes, but pretty soon I realized that she wasn't interested in me, so I gave S some cash for the hooka, said goodbye, and took off for the night. S got her number, and the next night he thanked me over some beers at a party. I said to him, "What are friends for, motherfucker?"