Meant To Be?

At the end of the day yesterday, Tall K called me down to his desk, “Miss Curious, you haven’t mentioned Monday Night Dice all day. I’ve overheard that you’re going to a show tonight, but when were you going to tell me?”

“Oh well, I just assumed you figured.”

“Nope. I’m disappointed in your punk-ass,” he said kinda’ jokingly, kinda’ not.

I felt kinda’ like shit.

He asked, “well, what are you doing until the show?”

My eyes widened because I knew I’d give in, and then I’d torture myself with iBartender… but then, I thought… how good would the show be if I found myself heartbroken, alone, jealous, and stoned? That’d be a good fucking show. Done.

“Okay, I’m there… I’m dragging the whole crew… we have 2 hours to do some happy hour damage, and then we’re off to the show!” hahaha!

Because my East Coast twin (Dolly) and I have been living parallel lives (2 bartenders for her too), and she recently had this amazing turn of events where one of the bartenders suddenly became her boyfriend… I thought, “Hey, maybe this came up because by some simple twist of fate, I’m supposed to squeeze in Monday Night Dice… and this is it… this is my night?!?!? Just like Dolly’s!!!” (yeah, okay crazy!)

And something did happen at Monday Night Dice.

I was meant to go. Wait. That sounds strange. I don’t believe things are “meant to be,” but sometimes it’s like, “fuck, wow, it’s like it was ‘meant to be.’” Same feeling about astrological signs… like I don’t believe in them… but then, I do.

Anyway. The first drink’s on iBartender with a “Happy Easter.” Fine. Sure.

We start talking music. Top 5 Favorite Albums of All Time. We both say, Smashing Pumpkins, Siamese Dream as #4.

He disappears from behind the bar.

And then, on the loud speakers… the heavy guitars of Cherub Rock (first song on Siamese Dream) reverberate through the dark corners of the bar. My smile couldn’t have been bigger.

We often write notes on napkins during our Monday nights, and this one called for a note, “iBartender, I love you right now!”

He folds it… before he puts it in his pocket, he makes some jerking-off motion as though he’ll jerk-off to my note later. Okay. Hot.

I try to lead the conversation to sex, but he’s not going with it. Hmm.

Okay. Well, I decided to run up to the DJ Booth while he’s there and put on another Smashing Pumpkins tune… he grabs the chub around my waste – fuck I always hate that… give me some warning, so I can suck it all in – anyway, we peck on the lips.

In My Head: Yes – Yes – Yes, pecks on lips, good sign!

I start getting down to business. I want some answers.

“So, iBartender, you dating anyone?”

“Yes.”

My jaw drops.

“Cool… what’s the story?”

“I met her through a friend… I think about sticking my shit in her all the time…” blah-blah-blah.

In My Head: Keep it together Miss Curious. Keep it together. Just give me a minute.

With a perfectly believable fake smile, “good for you… I must admit this odd wave of jealousy just came over me… but wait, oh I think it passed.”

And then.

The turning of the KNIFE.

“Yeah, well, get over it,” he replies with a stone-cold expression upon his face.

Breathe.

Harsh.

Way Harsh.

He said it with that, 'what-were-you-thinking? Did you really think I could have liked you? Are you serious?…. oh wait you did think so… oh how cute… how sad… I’m just being honest… get over it,' sound in his voice. At least that's how I took it.

I giggled and took my turn at dice. A guy friend of mine sitting next to me thought it was a humorous conversation… he had no idea about shit… no idea that I actually did like iBartender… no idea that this wasn’t all pretend… that right there in that moment, I was being hardcore dissed.

Luckily in my friend’s obliviousness, he says, “man, if I were single, I’d so date Miss Curious… she’s like the fucking coolest chick ever… and hot as fuck.” (I’m hot? Thanks dude!)

Oh Jesus. If my friend only knew that he was a saving grace… and really, he had NO CLUE. He serendipitously said the completely right thing to pick me up. To help me swallow.

And well. I was almost grateful for iBartender’s brutal words. I needed to hear them. I needed to stop holding onto a big fat nothing.

How could I have been so fucking stupid? How could I have thought his kisses meant something? How could I have thought? How could I?

And so I ran into the arms of live music. You better fucking believe that Muse show was amazing.


This Weird Convergence of Men… This Meant to Be Reminder of Me and Men:

- So, iBartender laid it out for me. Shot me down. Hardcore.

- Obsession, he left another message today about coming over. This was his 2nd call. I just texted him, “Went to a show last night… am really tired… another night?” And who cares… I’m not going to lift a finger with that right now. Yes, tired.

- And then there’s Flav who’s suddenly hardcore pursuing me. I just wanted to fuck. He did too, initially. Now he’s all surprised that he likes me so much. Apparently, I make him think. Tell it like it is. I just don't feel like it. He keeps contacting me. He keeps telling me that he’ll wait for my call, but calls before I call. Texts and emails. Wants to go on a date on Thursday… I said, “not a good idea.” He’s just messed up right now… I don’t want the bother. Maybe we’ll make-out again, but he’s a recipe for disaster, and I do NOT want that in my life… over it!

- 5th Paragraph – obviously, I felt retarded Sundy when his ass was the one that actually got the satisfaction of introducing his new girlfriend to me instead of how i'd always hoped we'd bump into each other when i was with some super hot boyfriend… but then, I know he didn’t/wouldn't really give a shit anyway.

- Remember Citrus Fruit? That guy I met in line at a show… his friend got him a beer with Citrus Fruit, he was allergic… we switched drinks… chatted… then randomly, I got a MySpace request for his band… we messaged like twice… well, I saw him last night… didn’t say anything of course (haha), but random spottings that mean nothing… but I wish they did… need to be pointed out. And oh, even more random... like no joke, yesterday, I was going through some of my archives and one was entitled, 'Funny Coincidence.' I couldn't for the life of me remember what that was, so I re-read it... thinking hmm, yeah, at the time I thought the fact that he unknowingly requested me as a friend actually meant something... and it meant, nothing. But then, I saw him that very night, last night... after not having thought twice about the guy. Just random. Well fuck me, always trying to make something more out of fucking nothing. End of story.

To Conclude:

It’s just like, what the fuck? What the fuck?

And why am I in San Francisco? Why didn’t that abroad job work out? It couldn’t have been more perfect. Now here I am doing the same shit again and again and again. And yes, I have to kick myself in the ass and make myself happy, blah blah blah… I know the advice to give myself, I’m just fucking over it!!!

Oh Miss Curious, always so laughable.