this weekend i got a spontaneous invite to an outdoor concert. "sure." the owner phoned and free live music (unless it's neil diamond) is a gimme for him. all good.
making plans with women is always an annoying crapshoot -- my hair, my shoes, my cat -- and the timing is like liquid mercury. cell phones only enable this as evidenced by the 4 calls and various texts i got making the meet time later and later. in between these, i got a confidential call that the whole thing is a ploy for one of us to get near a drummer she'd been near before. whatever, but it's apparently ratcheting up her krazee and frantic is entering the realm of applicable adjectives.
a few more crossed signals and we finally all connect and the soothing libations begin. ahhhhh.
let's digress a bit? the drummer-banger is one of those women who i feel "overshares." several years ago, when in my book she was simply a work acquaintance, i got a shocking earful of the should-be-hbo movie that is her dad's sex life and her subsequent emo upheaval. over time, i've heard more and more stories of utterly loco behavior, mostly involving men, sex and more emotions. (as we know i have no trouble separating the third right the hell away from the other two, but i'm learning that's unusual.)
one of the more recent was of her chasing down some handsome stranger, stalking him from bar to bar, but finally her persistence paying off with a hotel room invite. during the *act* she completely deranged into hysterical sobbing, "what am i doing here, with you, this is wrong, you could kill me, this is so bad, i'm stoopid..." howzabout that for a major boner killer? a stranger in a strange land, thinking he's getting lucky with an attractive one-night stand, now panicked, worrying that a visit from the cops might be in the very near future. how's that gonna play in topeka? but he did what she obviously wanted and comforted her and patted her hair, all "there, there" and she calmed down and went home. he never got to finish fucking her. however, after the drama whooshed out, i'm sure a skin flick rental and washcloth did the trick with zero angst.
as these evenings usually go, the conversation was mostly about her, her empty love life, how casual sex is not the thing she should be doing because it puts her in a bad place, blah blah. ok, if you realize that, good on you, but i'm telling you if your opening gambit is "i'm looking for a serious relationship," i suggest you buy a lot more cats and an industrial vibrator.
time for the show with her drummer. the sound is abysmal, the crowd is boring and the set-up makes getting a beer a pipe dream. the owner wonders how long we have to stay and be polite. i think we stayed one more song, it was going to be a short set anyway, so we book across the street. she tizzies in and is obsessing about what wine to drink. i give her strong professional advice to not have wine. another professional in the group concurs. she is *that* girl grilling a very harried bartender about flavor profiles (it's jug wine lady, stfu) and then wah-wah-wah when it's the insipid nonsense i swore it would be.
woven between those complaints is how will she get to see and bang the drummer again. she is overwrought. i haven't seen anything like it since junior high. i wanted to laugh, but that would just further illustrate my "not a nice person" status. her emotional contortions were truly staggering, especially after her firm foot on the ground of no-not intimate-oh-he-loves-only-me sex. back and forth to try to see this guy, for whom dozens of other girls were lined up and tossing their bewbies front and center for the nightly groupie pick. she finally gave up and was next to tears.
ok, so, you don't want nsa sex, fresh from a battery of std tests from some other dirty dude and yet you're freaking out because some guy said, "not tonight, my foot hurts"? lame on his end, yeah, lol, but he doesn't owe you an explanation, ok? leave him alone. she was so wild in her desperation for validation she missed by a mile the fact of "if he wanted to see/fuck you, he would have called."
in an electric whirlwind of crushed ego, she stomped out and went home.
it was weird because we all were glad she was finally out of our night and done crushing our collective buzz, but her searing pain was all over her twisted face. yet, as a not-nice-person, i saw it was all self-inflicted and came from lala-land. somebody needs to shake her, i swear. that cagney grapefruit in the face thing? over and over and over.
chapter 2.
the owner calls last night and wants to fix up drum-banger with another drummer of our acquaintance. the concept was so foreign i at first had no idea he meant THAT drum banger since we know other women with her same name. i pleaded and begged him to not.
"but this drummer likes crazy."
fair enough and this is not to put myself in any other realm besides that of the committed and admittedly krazee, but the covenant of fix-ups for men is far different than it is for chicks.
on the penis side, he goes out with her, sees the plain-as-day looniness and later says, "that chick is nutz." "i told you. let's get a beer." the end.
for me? i would have to fend off why is he asking out one of my friends whom he hasn't met, when he's met others. "what's wrong with me?" and that whole dramz of wounded pride. then there will be the jagged distress of after, of will he or won't call again. i should/n't have fucked him. then "why won't he, where is he, can't you talk to him, what did i do wrong? why did you fix me up with that user?"
it was utterly selfish on my part, yes. if i knew for sure she would at least fuck him, i would not have been half as reluctant, but to get the sword in that stone we need an arthur, ya know? after trying to reason this out with the owner, i had to try to parse it for the drummer. he has a history of crazy he kept saying. gaaaahhhhh.
still dunno where the coin flip will land for our drummer. i know he's a guy and won't think any less of me for having batshit friends. i don't know why he's a good-looking drummer without a date for a pricey concert.
i do know why i have so few female friends.
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