Pardon the recent lack of content, but due to my "live life" doctrine of this semester (go out, stop pondering my fate), I just haven't had the urge to vomit emotions into the Times New Roman format.
Until today.
With Valentine's Day approaching. I wanted to tell a story about love. Real love. Not love like when I thanked that girl for swallowing my semen
I once had a girlfriend, whom I loved very much.
Sure, we had our mutual infidelities, and yes I was the perpetrator 80% of time, but hey, it was high school.
Plus, bitches loved the jewfro.
Anyway, she was relatively perfect. Put up with my fragile mental state, appreciated my acerbic tounge, did doggy, etc.
But there was one moment that signified the start our ending. You may see it as a minor infraction, but to me it was much more.
It was my freshmen year of college, and she came to visit me.
The first night of her visit, I took her to a fancy nightclub. I bought a VIP bottle, she danced on my table, and all was right with the world.
Until the next day. I was exhausted and hungover from the evening previous, and attempted to spend the day recovering in my dorm bed.
She was growing increasingly antsy and kept asking me to go out and do things- "let's go to the beach, do you want to go for a walk etc"
For the most part, I ignored her pleas for entertainment and repeatedly explained that I wasn't feeling well. Until the last one.
"Well..can we at least go out tonight and do like a fun dinner?"
"Huh?"
"You know...like, a nice, fun dinner?"
"I don't follow."
"Like, when I was in Miami with my parents, we went to Prime 112 and Barton G, like, cool, fun dinners!"
I waded through her bullshit to understand what she really meant.
She didn't want a fun dinner at a fun restaurant. She wanted to go to an expensive dinner at a trendy restaurant. Therefore, she could see a celebrity or athlete and tell people back home. I cringed and remembered how she boasted about seeing A-Rod at Prime the year before when she was on vacation with her parents.
Furthermore, she was not satisfied with the bottle-buying exploits the night before, and wanted her freshmen boyfriend, who didn't even have a car, to continue splurging and sate her appetite for excess.
I rose my head from my pillow.
"No."
"Okay, but c-"
"Let's just enjoy our time together, okay?"
"Okay, I jus-"
"Good."
I was very hurt, albeit not sure why, and the rest of the trip was rather awkward.
We broke up little more than a year after.
I know there is no clear correlation but things seemed to fall apart after that.
Now I don't condone violence against women (unless she REALLY won't shut the fuck up), but if your girlfriend ever goads you to take her to a fun dinner, you should give her a fun slap in the face, because she isn't the one, jack.
Just kidding.
Also, for the record, my parents are coming this weekend, and I plan on going to the most fun of dinners, at Prime 112.
Whodat?
