17-18 Recap

Day 17 - Friday

After a wild night out to celebrate JO's birthday on Thursday which culminated in my drunk dialing JP at midnight, I spent all day Friday in the office doing trial prep for a terrible case that I cannot believe is going to trial in two weeks. All I have to say is: rubber gloves. Who can stand in front of a jury and argue the merits of rubber gloves sales with a straight face? Add to that the fact that the parties are an annoying Malaysian millionaire who whines a lot and a brash German salesman who cusses a lot and you have the perfect mix for infuriating a downtown Los Angeles jury. I can't wait.

After spending eight hours contemplating that mess I decided to go home and vegetate for the night. I was just getting into relaxation mode with my popcorn and the remote when S called to invite me to a BBQ and concert for the night. I declined and, about half an hour later he called back ecstatic that his girlfriend, T, would actually be joining him out in public for the night. Their relationship is (was) a complicated one in which he caters to her every whim and she refuses to put out but happily plans the purchase of a home together in between looking at wedding dresses. Of course, in seven months S still hasn't met any of her family or friends and they are rarely seen in public together. Still, they feign love and have each been living on the fantasy of what the other should be without acknowledging who the other really is. The fantasy all came crashing down somewhere on Poli Street in Ventura on Saturday night after T complained of being tired and wanting to go home while S was hoping for his quarterly lights-out lay. All the while I was home watching tv and shaving my dog. Turns out I had the better night after all

Day 18 - Saturday

S called Saturday morning to recount the events of the previous night. It was deja vu as S and T have broken up at least 17 times in the six months I've known him. Still, I listened as he claimed he was done and that was it, no more calls, nothing, nada, cut off!!! Sensing his need to have a break-up binge, I offered to pick him up to drive up to Montecito for a hash run that afternoon.

The run awesome - a perfect day in Montecito - sunny, the Channel Islands looking close enough to swim to, lush mountains, a great trail, good people, oh, and then there was the beer, of course. I came in from the run to find S on his cell phone - leaving one of those "last word" messages for T. You know the kind where you call someone to tell them you really are done with them?

Reminds me of the way back when I had split from my fiance (yes, I was once engaged). Let's just say it wasn't a good break up - when you dump someone who really loves you they don't like it and say some mean stuff. I knew I was the bad one and let him have about 80 last words before his need to tell me he was done subsided. Then, about six months after we had split and not spoken I came home to find a box on my doorstep. Inside the box were all the letters I ever wrote the guy (I lived in China for 9 months and wrote every day), pictures, miscellaneous crap that was somehow tied to me, and a long note about how he was finally getting closure and moving on. I pulled out the letters - a great journal of my time in China - and tossed the rest of the stuff. I was happy he had closure and made no reply. About a week later he called me to inquire whether I had gotten the box and what I thought. I guess the only thing that had gotten closure was the box.

So I had to snicker to myself after the run when S was getting closure. That was around 6:30. We all headed for burgers and beers after the run. About an hour and a half into social hour there, S snuck off into a corner to leave yet another last word message for T. Apparantly he and T had been exchanging last word voice mails all day. After a few beers, S and I proceeded to have a lengthy discussion about his feelings for me on our way home. Note to single men out there: wait at least 72 hours after breaking up with someone you planned a future with before proclaiming your love to a friend you've told you love the other girl - at the very least it improves your chances of being flashed. Better yet, just play the depression card and say being flashed will make you feel better.

Oh, and MM - sorry about the drunk dial sexuality inquisition. Blame SC - she is the evil one.