The volume in my living room has been turned up. That's what happens when there's a three-man sleepover. I guess this is as good as it gets. Tune out and get at it. It's kind of fun to listen to them screaming and laughing.
I have to tell you that I had some stories lined up for you, but I have reservations about telling you about Asshole. Remember when I told you that Mike and I had a rocky start? We did. Back when he was telling me about Slide Mountain Loop, Mike and I weren't dating. It was heartbreaking. I fell in love so easily with him, but I worked hard not to fall apart when Mike told me he was dating someone else at the end of our brief summer fling. That fling had been seriously brief, but I was all in. It consisted of a Moody Blues concert, a double-date, and a couple of tennis matches. Mike had invited two girls to the concert and both of us assumed we were his date and the other was intended for his friend, Bob. Then, we went on a casual double-date with our coworker, Bryan, and his girlfriend, dancing at happy hour on a Friday night. Mike rarely dances and at the time, I was a regular out on the dance floor. Mismatch! The music was so loud that we couldn't really talk. Then, the tennis was awkward too. I really was not good at playing tennis. It's hard to look good playing tennis when you're not good at tennis, when you don't even have the little skirt and all. I didn't care about any of that. I loved every minute. I was happy just sitting next to him, feeling that tingling sensation when our elbows accidentally touched. The thing about all this time is that Mike and I saw each other every day. We had to. We worked together. While we were dabbling in dating, it was heaven. When he stopped asking me to go out after work, it was hell.
What do you do when your heart is broken and you have to look at the face that broke it every day? Oh, we didn't just work in the same office, we were collaborating on the same project. That meant hours of sitting side-by-side with our heads hung over schematics or wire-wrapped boards in a tiny screen room.
What I did was put on an act. Actually, I took a 'quick vacation to see my family' first. That translates to calling my mom and saying, "Can I come home for a few days? I'm having some trouble out here and I might even need to quit my job and move back home if I can't work it out." I went home. I slept late. I cried. I never said a word to anyone in my family about my broken heart. To their credit, they never asked.
When my week was up, I went back to work intending to earn an Oscar for my acting skills. I have no idea if I was convincing or not. I just know that at the end of the day, I was exhausted. At work, I smiled, I laughed too loudly. 'Bravado' was the vocabulary word for the season. I'm one of those people who is good at lying because I eventually begin to believe my own lies. My persona was of a wildly independent woman having the time of her life.
The other thing I did was to date. I dated like it was an edict declared by the government during a time of war. I dated five different guys before the leaves fell off the trees. The only thing I remember about them is that one was a British guy who's only attraction for me was his accent. Poor Brit. He was probably a nice guy and had not a chance.
Have you ever noticed that I won't talk about sex here?
It's not going to happen, so get over it, already. That's a part of my life that, even in this version of the truth, I'm going to leave completely private.
And then I met Asshole.
I was telling you how I met Asshole
and
I'm sorry, we're out of time for today.
Thank you for listening, jb
I have to tell you that I had some stories lined up for you, but I have reservations about telling you about Asshole. Remember when I told you that Mike and I had a rocky start? We did. Back when he was telling me about Slide Mountain Loop, Mike and I weren't dating. It was heartbreaking. I fell in love so easily with him, but I worked hard not to fall apart when Mike told me he was dating someone else at the end of our brief summer fling. That fling had been seriously brief, but I was all in. It consisted of a Moody Blues concert, a double-date, and a couple of tennis matches. Mike had invited two girls to the concert and both of us assumed we were his date and the other was intended for his friend, Bob. Then, we went on a casual double-date with our coworker, Bryan, and his girlfriend, dancing at happy hour on a Friday night. Mike rarely dances and at the time, I was a regular out on the dance floor. Mismatch! The music was so loud that we couldn't really talk. Then, the tennis was awkward too. I really was not good at playing tennis. It's hard to look good playing tennis when you're not good at tennis, when you don't even have the little skirt and all. I didn't care about any of that. I loved every minute. I was happy just sitting next to him, feeling that tingling sensation when our elbows accidentally touched. The thing about all this time is that Mike and I saw each other every day. We had to. We worked together. While we were dabbling in dating, it was heaven. When he stopped asking me to go out after work, it was hell.
What do you do when your heart is broken and you have to look at the face that broke it every day? Oh, we didn't just work in the same office, we were collaborating on the same project. That meant hours of sitting side-by-side with our heads hung over schematics or wire-wrapped boards in a tiny screen room.
What I did was put on an act. Actually, I took a 'quick vacation to see my family' first. That translates to calling my mom and saying, "Can I come home for a few days? I'm having some trouble out here and I might even need to quit my job and move back home if I can't work it out." I went home. I slept late. I cried. I never said a word to anyone in my family about my broken heart. To their credit, they never asked.
When my week was up, I went back to work intending to earn an Oscar for my acting skills. I have no idea if I was convincing or not. I just know that at the end of the day, I was exhausted. At work, I smiled, I laughed too loudly. 'Bravado' was the vocabulary word for the season. I'm one of those people who is good at lying because I eventually begin to believe my own lies. My persona was of a wildly independent woman having the time of her life.
The other thing I did was to date. I dated like it was an edict declared by the government during a time of war. I dated five different guys before the leaves fell off the trees. The only thing I remember about them is that one was a British guy who's only attraction for me was his accent. Poor Brit. He was probably a nice guy and had not a chance.
Have you ever noticed that I won't talk about sex here?
It's not going to happen, so get over it, already. That's a part of my life that, even in this version of the truth, I'm going to leave completely private.
And then I met Asshole.
I was telling you how I met Asshole
and
I'm sorry, we're out of time for today.
Thank you for listening, jb
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