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August 3, 2009

I need a lobotomy ......

Over the last 20+years, I have successfully managed to avoid any reunions or
get togethers with those that I shared my teen angst ridden high school years with.
There's a reason.
I had nothing in common with the vast majority of them.
I still don't.
I know I don't.
I went out with several of them about a week or so ago.
Maybe I was feeling nostalgic.
Maybe I really am just a masochist.
(yes, I believe that I am)

It started with an email from *Candace asking me if I was going to the reunion at Hole-in-the wall bar.
I told her the truth ... I had no idea there was one.
I also explained to Candy that I wasn't real interested in going.
Well, after 4 emails, 10 texts and 5 phone calls, I was persuaded.
I agreed to go with her to said hole-in-the wall bar.
Day of the blessed event, I receive a text message from Candy,
"Party has moved to SoHo"
SoHo?
Fuck that! I am NOT dragging my ass to NYC for a stupid-ass reunion!
OH! THAT SoHo ....
The ultra hip meat market downtown.
I haven't lived here in over a decade and my days of going to ultra hip meat markets is WAY over.

Agree to go to Meat market, but am hesitant.
I text her back and ask if there is a dress code.
Most places like THIS do.
She tells me no.
I come home from work, and my phone rings.
"Hey lady! What are you wearing?"
"What about shoes?"
"Hair?"
Oh
My
GOD!!!!!!!!!!!
What grade are we in again?!
Have a 1/2 hour conversation as to attire, hairstyles, shoes & makeup for the evening.
Personally, I wanted shorts, tank top & flip-flops.
I was advised that I can't, she was mistaken.
There IS a dress code.
Damnit!
Opt for khaki capris, black silk tank and slinky black heels.
I tried to straighten my hair ... but the humidity laughed at me.
A slick pony tail won.

Text Candy to tell her i'm on my way and i'll meet her out front.
Get downtown and unbelievably, I find a spot not too far from the
meat market.
As I walk up, I notice Candy standing out front looking as nervous as a long tailed cat
in a room full of rocking chairs.
She spots me and I see the light of recognition in her eyes as she rushes forward and hugs me.
First thing she says, "You're still all tits & ass!"
Why yes, yes I am.
Just a bit more of both.
For the record, Candy looks pretty much the same as she did in High school.
Beautiful dark brown, naturally curly hair and the same sultry green eyes.
I tell her how fantastic she looks and she goes into the 10 minute non-stop rant about
how fat her ass is, how small her tits are, her nose, blah, blah, blah .....
After I let her her spew about what she thinks needs to be "fixed", I ask her
point blank what happened to the lady I knew that strutted her shit and could get
practically any man she set her eyes on?
I should have just shut up.
Really, I should have nod my head, agreed and drank.
Heavily.
Oh wait ..... I DID end up drinking heavily.
Vodka gimlets to be precise.
Sorry, got sidetracked.
The next 4 hours are filled with her laments on how her 20 year marriage is a joke,
her husband calls her all sorts of vile names, with holds sex and generally has been
mentally abusing her for years.
She of course has retaliated by having numerous affairs.
She keeps looking for a man to save her from her marriage and her husband.
I sat and listened, patiently.
Drinking vodka gimlets like water.
Then she asked for my opinion.
*sigh*
Can't we just sit here and drink?
I promise i'll listen to ALL your horror stories, and maybe even share some of mine.

No no .... she wanted MY take on the situation.
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.
Well, I tried to gentle and tell her that fucking every cock with a pulse was NOT
the way to deal with her marriage or her husband.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that I can't really be gentle.
I am direct.
Not mean or judgmental.
She was really only doing more damage to herself.
I told her that she needed to find herself and love herself before any man could, would or should.
She has no confidence and is looking for validation in the arms of men she thinks love her.
When they leave her, and they always do, she is devastated.
She confuses sex for love.

As the night continued, she told me several times how amazed she was by my unwavering faith in how beautiful she is and of my own self-confidence.
First off, i've always been a fairly confident woman.
Yes, we all have periods of self doubt, but overall, I like me.
I always have.
I don't tolerate being treated in certain ways.
Candy on the other hand, is still trying to be whatever the current man she's fucking wants her to be.
On this particular night, one of our old classmates was in town for a couple weeks and she had "hooked" up with him the previous 2 nights.
I didn't ask for details, but I got them anyway.
It seems *Scott had just gotten out of a 14 year relationship with a married woman and was on the prowl.
Well, Candy & Scott had hooked up several times back in high school, but never really dated.
So, he comes to town, calls her, takes her out a few times, fucks her stupid and says he never forgot her.
Candy takes this as he wants to BE with her.
Permanently.
She has bog dreams of leaving her husband and taking their child out west.
Did he say this is what he wants, I ask?
Not really, she says.
Oh lord have mercy.
Something seems off in her logic right?

Anyway, Scott is completely ignoring her and falling over some chick at the bar.
Candy keeps texting him and finally he tells her to meet him out front so they can talk.
She wants to go with her, but I decline.
I am quite comfortable sitting at the bar with other people from school and chatting about kids, jobs, ex's, etc.
Candy begs me, and like an ass, I agree.
I knew it was a mistake.
But I support my friends, no matter how long it's been since last I saw them, and Candy was a good friend back in the day.
We go out, I slip off to the side and chat with some other people I knew from school who were outside smoking.
Candy walks up to Scott and he grabs her and plants a big kiss on her mouth.
They stay that way for a few minutes before he pulls back and they start talking.
I glance over occasionally to make sure she's alright.
I bum a cigarette from *Mike and almost throw up on the first inhale.
I haven't smoked in years, and here I was, puffing on a Marlboro Light.
I needed it.

After about a half hour, Scott leaves and Candy is standing there alone, with her head down.
I walk over and she's on the verge of a thermo-nuclear type crying fit.
I grab her arm and I walk her to her car.
As soon as we get in, she lets loose and the tears are just pouring from her eyes.
I do what I can to console her, but it was kinda useless.
She grabs her phone and starts texting her boy toys to see if one of them will meet her.
As she waits for a response, she begins to tell me the conversation.
In between sobs and ragged breathing, she tells me that he doesn't think he can be with
her because of what people said about her 20 years ago.
Oh, and that her behavior the last few days has only confirmed what they said.
She was nothing more than a fuck toy.
His words.

WHAT?
Are you FUCKING SERIOUS????

I wanted to go back and rip his balls off, shove them up his ass sideways and THEN cram them down his throat till he choked on them.
Whether I agree with what he said or not, that's no excuse to treat someone so callously.
Especially a friend.
I am very protective of people in my world, especially ones who can't seem to fight back for themselves.
Candy begged me not to go back and confront him.
It was difficult, but I didn't.

We sat there for about an hour and talked before she drove me to my car.
The night ended with me going to the Fire Hall for another drink (that I didn't need) and her driving off to meet one of her boy toys.

I get an email the next day thanking me for everything and her telling me that as she was driving to meet her friend, Scott called and asked her to come back to his hotel.
She did.
He left the following day and she hasn't heard from him since.


Fuck the lobotomy, bring on the Grey Goose Gimlets.




*All names have been changed

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