Out and about this afternoon running errands, window shopping, coffee and scone- the basics. My only priority today was to clean house, do laundry, man up and get a Brazilian wax (such a story for another day- I've had some bad waxing experiences. I'll cover that one when the time comes.) Tonight has been on reserve for the past week for drinks with one of my guy friends. (We'll tackle that topic at a more appropriate time.) So, basically, a quiet Wednesday. No drama.
Prior to the wax appointment I swung by my apartment to drop off groceries and swap out sunglasses- they're like the cherry on top of the sundae. Extremely critical. The moment I step inside my cell phone rings- it's my friend James. He's downstairs wanting to say hi and he has a surprise for me. "It's furry and tan. Think of it as an early Christmas gift." Furry, tan, and gift could only mean one thing- mink. Maybe lynx. Something fur-coatish.
I met James in college. We were friends and more often than not he was the one who called me a cab when I couldn't drive or slimy frat guys were all about taking me home. He was my go to guy that I complained to about guys I was dating/sleeping with, the guy-friend I dumped all my sexual complaints on, and on and on. He didn't even get mad when I slept with his college roommate. I think he was just more concerned we didn't do anything in his sheets. We've always had a very "When Harry Met Sally" thing going on minus the sexual tension. When I was engaged, he was supportive. When I went AWOL in Vegas for a week, he called to make sure I was alive. It was mutual. Whenever he's in town to visit I pay for lunch.
When James enters my apartment I'm ready to bury myself in former fluffy animal skin but instead he shoves a kitten into my hands. Not impressed. I don't even have houseplants. I'm not equipped to take care of a cat, let alone shower love on something other than myself. Luckily I had some leftover fish on hand from a stupid notion I got that I could make sushi in my home. (I don't recommend.) Kitten had food, kitten had water. Locked in the bathroom with newspaper on the floor in case it decided to destroy anything. James told me he named it Charlene. James didn't seem to grasp the concept there's only one pussy in this apartment that is catered to- mine.
James and I went out for drinks and catching up. We shot the shit and made small talk, all the usual stuff. Then he dropped what might as well been a nuclear bomb on me, but shouldn't have come as such a shocking concept. After all the years of him listening to me unload about my life and the details that I'd spare most any other guy, the tables were turned. He shared with me about his past few months of binge male slutting- or whatever you'd call it. What he did with this girl, then that girl, and how he couldn't remember all the girls in between... At some point I just went into a glazed over look and just nodded with a blank expression on my face.
Towards the end I told him I didn't want to hear anymore. Maybe I was annoyed because I felt one-upped and didn't have any recent stories to come back at him with. I gave him a ride back to his friend's place and told him I'd see him around. I drove around for almost an hour. At one point I almost started crying I was so annoyed.
He said that heartache drove him to it, some girl he'd met that made him feel indescribable. Apparently it didn't work out, obviously. I feel like a jealous eighth-grader or something. No, I'm just turned off some other girl stole my spotlight. God, I feel so icky right now. Not to mention I have a kitten to deal with. Like I said before, I'm not really equipped to love anything other than myself. I gotta find this thing a home.
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