dancing girls

No Rules

July 12, 2017

PIC loves to say ‘no rules’. She usually has a drink in her hand and is about to get up to some kind of mischief. But we love her.

I once called her a balloon. We just hold the string and keep her away from sharp things as she floats.

It’s a good analogy. I occasionally hit one out of the park.

I called Panda’s ex ‘human margarine’. He is. No substance, just a grease stain on some white bread offering nothing but empty calories in paste form. A barely edible oil product.

Speaking of which, there are some rules.

Human Serotonin remarked the other day “I don’t know how you and Panda can live together, no one can live with friends and stay friends, but you two make it work.”

That we do. I stay home, she goes out. She takes me out and I keep her home. Yin and Yang baby.

I also follow the rule of 5.

If it’s not going to bother me in 5 hours, 5 days or 5 years. I keep my motherfucking mouth shut. Ya, she gets ready in a rush and leaves her creepy as fuck hair extensions on the bathroom floor and I hate it. So I pick them up so my dog doesn’t pee on them, my dog thinks she is people and has to pee on the bathmat. Both irritating things, but this is life.

She is my sunshine my only sunshine, she makes me happy when skies are grey.

We used to Tinder together, scroll scroll swipe swipe oh hey look at this one.

She’d turn her phone to face me, showing and telling and my invariable reply was “He’s not my type, but I get it, go git it girl.”

And vice versa. She can usually find something endearing or understandable about the men I bring home. Like referring to the Hulk as ‘the guy who reminds me of my dad.’ Or about Moonface ‘he was really hood for you, but I liked the way he talked.’

We balance. I don’t want to wear her clothes very often and I don’t care if she wears mine.

We have different styles and tastes in men and everything. This is why we work.

My shortcomings are her strengths and her strengths balance my bullshit out.

And deep down at our core, we share a moral code.

Even if she paraded some Adonis through the house with angel wings and the body of a panty soaking Greek god, I wouldn’t blink. I shall not want. My friendship with all of my girls is much too valuable to me to trash it over some boy who is probably gonna end up trash anyways.

I have a few posts fighting it out in my head right now. Moonface is among them, which leads me to another tale along the riverbank.

Once upon a time in a strip club not far away I saw a boy and I liked him. PIC saw him too and liked him too. But I saw him first and after talking to him I was smitten. Now normally I would take one for the team and hand him over on a platter, but I didn’t. That one selfish bone in my body won the day, or the night really. PIC was pissed, fair enough. She said as much but I already knew it and I had a good idea about what it was about. I waited. She waited. We both waited until the situation had diffused enough to talk to each other like grownups. I apologized sincerely, she accepted it. She wanted me to be happy. We moved forward.

And in the grand scheme of things I did actually take one for the team because he borrowed money and disappeared. Better me than PIC. I got this, it’s in my wheelhouse to just take the pain.

So what happens when someone outside of our group starts seeing the ex of someone in the group?
And what if said ex happens to be the big bad, aka human margarine.

Well, we rally.

We were already pre-rallied so she was surrounded by a protective circle of women as the news came out of my mouth. She howled.

We warned the outsider that he is bad news. It is our obligation as women to point out red flags to the colorblind. The question remains however, how much loyalty is to be shown by someone who was never one of us? There is a girl code and this is pretty bad.

Nothing is ever good with that fucker. For someone I have met three times he has caused an awful lot of chaos drama and pain in my life.

I have a bad feeling shit is about to hit the fan again and he is the one with his pants down.

So be it.

My girls are my heart.

I will never take their men, I will always take their side and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I have a feeling I am going to walk into the drama den aka work tomorrow and crucified, and I have hit this point beyond caring. I did the right thing. Anyone would have done the same in my shoes, anyone worth knowing anyways.

I told the truth. It’s what I do. Tried to keep a girl I don’t even like from getting hit and tried to keep Panda from getting hurt further. I’ll take that bullet, thanks.

We need to shrug off these chains we have been given, that women should compete with each other. It is only serving to hold us down and keep us controlled. When what we really need to do is rally around each other.

Women need to have each other’s backs like we do when we are drunk in bar bathrooms.

Those are the only rules.


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