Hey you. Thanks for meeting me here. Have a seat. No, not that seat. Don’t sit there. I swear to God if you sit there I will stab you in the throat. Oh, that seat? Yeah, that’s fine, you can sit there. I was kidding anyway.
I was thrilled to get your invitation. I can only assume that you’re bringing me here to tell me that those photos of you with that girl on facebook mean nothing. Yeah, I saw the ones of you in that canal in Venice. I guess it was very romantic but I’ve been in those canals and they smell like a house full of dumptrucks. Ok, fine, they don’t. I was just saying that because I felt like hurting you. Oh, that didn’t hurt you? Well yeah, I guess it wouldn’t. It’s not like you invented those canals. That was DaVinci. What? You’re pretty sure it’s not? Huh, that’s funny, which one of us went to college? Me.
I’m sorry. That was really, really mean.
Anyway you look well. I mean look at you, you’re fucking beautiful. You know it, I know it, that goddamn chair knows it. Look, I have no problem with the chair. It was a joke. This is great wine.
I just wanted to say that if you had a girlfriend you could have just told me. I wouldn’t have been hurt. It’s only now, after all this time of feeling like I’m in a cave with a single lit match, that I’m hurt. Oh, what I meant about the cave thing was that you left me in the dark. Yeah, that’s all I meant. No, I wasn’t implying that the match was burning my fingers. That’s dumb. That doesn’t make any sense. You’re an idiot.
I’m sorry, that was mean.
I’m just getting sick of this. All of this, stuff that you can’t even be held accountable for. I’m just getting sick of never being the girlfriend. I am always the girl on the way to the girlfriend. I’m Goodluck Chuck.
I am never the girl in photos.
What do I mean by that? Well, after a guy disappears from my life, lo and behold I see him on facebook with a new girl. They may not have even declared their relationship but it’s obvious. I always wonder, why isn’t that girl me? And usually I’m much more photogenic than these girls. I’m sorry if that shocks or upsets you but it’s true. But no guy ever wants to take photos of me and put them on facebook. No guy wants to have a photo tagged of us, of his arm slung around me, smiling at me with pure adoration. They save that for the girl after me. I am the girl the guy doesn’t show off.
This is what I mean when I say, I am never the girl in photos.
It’s OK, I’m fine now, I have Sven. Oh? Sven is my boyfriend. He looks like the guy in a 1960s ad for cigarettes. Sometimes. Other days he looks like a British guitar player. Sven isn’t exactly what you would call…real. Yeah, he’s my imaginary boyfriend. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Stop giving me a weird pity look. It’s fine. Really! Look, pretend I didn’t say anything. I was kidding. I was 80% kidding. Don’t worry about the 20%.
Never worry about the 20%.
Half of me wants to throw this drink in your face and the other half wants to kiss you. So what the hell am I supposed to do now? This is good wine, I don’t know if I should waste it on your face. Your beautiful, beautiful face.
I tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna buck up. I’m going to stop looking at your facebook photos. I’m going to have to leave my iphone at home. I’m going to be the strong person that is hidden somewhere inside me, like a grape in a goat. Shh, I’m not done. I’m going to admit that I am the cliche who doesn’t feel validated unless it’s from a guy. But I’m going to be fine. I’m going to make videos and put them on this blog (really, I will). I’m going to keep writing. I’m going to get cast as a co-star in something.
I will realize that you are not everything I think you are.
And I’ll even pick up the check for this.
I’m just going to go to the bathroom first. I am definitely not going to slip out the back. Really. I’m not going to leave my credit card here at the table though because I…need it…in the bathroom. Yeah. I’m just going to be right back. I’m not not leaving forever.
She’s Not Me — Madonna
Hello Stranger — Barbara Lewis
How To Quit — Sam Phillips
I’m Not Down — The Clash
Bloody Motherfuckin Asshole — Martha Wainwright
Ring Of Fire — Amanda Jo Williams
Brown Eyes — Lady GaGa
If You Close The Door — The Velvet Underground