i don't like it...

So, I feel like we are in need of some nonsense around here. Those last posts seemed really heavy. I leave you with this:

I wrote a post (#2: Jump Right in...) a while back about the guy who asked me to be his girlfriend on the second date. He was not the best catch I even caught. No relationship should begin with you wondering if your new partner roofied you or not. Sadly, this one did.

What I failed to discuss in that post about him was how things actually ended. Amazing. It's about the only word that I have for it.

We went downtown to see the fireworks for the 4th of July. More accurately, we went to the lake. I grew up by the ocean and always watched the fire works from the beach. It seems ludicrous to watch them anywhere but by the water. Anyway, we watched the fire works and drank Captain and Diet Dr. Pepper out of Nalgene bottles. (side note: I do not like Diet Dr. Pepper. Despite what the commercials will tell you, it tastes nothing like regular Dr. Pepper or any dessert I've ever tried. I did not choose to pollute Captain with Diet Dr. Pepper. The guy for whom I was about to end things with did. He said, "I know what my Baby likes." Never could a statement be less true...I was not his Baby nor did he know what I liked.) So, yes, fireworks and alcohol in Nalgene bottles. I ended up drinking a lot. A lot. He tried to talk about meeting my family. I tried to drink as much as I could.

We went back to his place after the fireworks. The fireworks were over...in more way than one. He ended up passing out and I was left laying next to him. I am not sure whether it was all the Captain Morgan or the artificial sweetener, but I was in a mood. I immediately began crying. Yep, laying in bed next to passed out dude...crying. I managed to get up, grab my phone, and make my way onto the balcony. I promptly called my dear friend and said, "Molli, I don't like it." She tried to ask clarifying questions, but apparently all I could do was repeat, "I don't like it." Awesome. I there I sat in a tank top and panties on the balcony of some dude's apartment crying on the phone. Because she is an awesome friend she said, "Get up now. Grab your stuff and cab over here. I am at a party. You need to get out of there." I explained that I had no money and because she is amazing she said, "I will pay the cab driver when you get here. You just need to get out of there." Brilliant idea. Seriously, it was some amazing advice.

I didn't want to be totally rude. After all, I was up and leaving him in the middle of the night. Leaving a note was the least I could do. One problem. The boy had no paper in his apartment. Literally, no paper anywhere. I looked. Really hard. I just couldn't not leave a note though, so I did what any reasonable person would do. I tore off a piece of the Dr. Pepper fridge pack and wrote, "I'm sorry. I just can't do it. I had to leave."

That's right boys and girls. I ended things with a note on a torn off piece of a Dr. Pepper fridge pack.

(If you are totally horrified, it might be good to note that I did end up talking to him later and properly ended things. Those details are just not as interesting. Hopefully I've renewed some faith you had in me.)