Who Puts Vodka in a Wine Spritzer?

May 1, 2017

Me – I blew the giant last night after someone (Panda) spiked her own wine spritzer with vodka and I thought I was drinking responsibly, sipping on wine and juice. Laid back. I didn’t get laid.

J – I love how your stories start out

Me – And now I find myself apologizing for one of my better blow jays

J- I’m sure he isn’t sorry

Me – He ‘doesn’t know how he feels about it’

J- Of course he doesn’t
Well did you at least have fun?

Me- honestly not sure, other than I give spectacular head when I am drunk.
And he tasted like spun sugar

J- I can honestly see that….you give great head regardless, I mean if you’re okay being the other woman….why not.

Me- I remember reaching over to turn a song up then a lap dance type thing and then he became my extra-large Slurpee

J- And who doesn’t love a Slurpee lol

Me- Giants apparently

J- You deserve more from someone than hey!….I miss you!….oh gotta go my gf is coming….but can’t wait to see you when I get back and she’s gone!….I think I may love you…no I do….but I can’t be with you….but I want to….but I’m gonna stick my dick in my gf real quick…..oh but I wish it was you….but I can’t….but I’ll string you along just enough cause I know you love me and will occasionally play with my penis.

Me- You just summed that up right nice. Add ‘if I do accidentally trip and stick my dick in your mouth that is totally your fault. Coo coo ka choo Mrs. Robinson’

So that happened, last year. It was a beautifully warm night in July maybe? August? We hadn’t been here long, but the porch was squared away, comfortable and twinkling with fairy lights and music. I think that was the first room we fixed up, I needed sanctuary, I don’t move well.

It’s 0 degrees Celsius today and the wind is wreaking havoc on my porch ripping curtains and toppling plants. Ya, that very same porch. I was having a smoke just now and somehow, despite the daylight and the absence of 30 degrees, my mind wandered back there. The song that started the whole thing came on…I knew I’d started writing an article about it way back when it happened, of course the working title was ‘who puts vodka in a wine spritzer’. Found it. My middle name is Archives after all.

I am not even sure what happened. He popped by with a bottle of wine maybe? One minute I was sipping and we were chatting, the next minute that song came on and I was in his lap then I was on my knees. He was sitting in the ‘daddy’ chair, time to throw that thing out methinks.

We are leaving this apartment. I know, I keep saying it. Still mentally preparing myself, like I do when I’m about to get a year older, I’ve been saying ‘almost 43’ starting in January. 42 was so good though, even with the accidental guilt trip laden blow jays and a lot of crying. So much crying.

We haven’t had consistent heat or hot water since the first week of March, my hands are freezing right now, I have two space heaters barely taking a dent out of the frosty air and I am wrapped in a blanket. My dog refuses to leave the cocoon she has made herself in my bed and I don’t blame her. I wish I was still there too.

I’m looking around the apartment thinking about all the things that have gone wrong and all the things that have gone right.

Panda and I have realized we are hetero life partners. We have plans to do a YouTube channel dedicated to our shenanigans with some make up tutorials and spoken word poetry thrown in for fun. We can’t do that here, it’s too small. Besides, I don’t even have a real closet. Me, the girl with the most clothes.

Hot Neighbor used to come by when we first moved from the back of the building to the front. He and my son got giggly stoned and built the bookshelf that sits to my left. But he has moved, no longer my neighbor, just some hot guy that used to pop by at the best moments. He left my movies by the back door and I haven’t seen him since.

The Giant was here quite often too, until the above happened. He then deemed me unsafe. Actually, truth be told, he never thought I was safe at all and since he is Safety Joe…that’d be why that never worked out. He was actually here more than the guy I dated after I moved into this place, strange but true. I will leave all those memories here.

I’ll keep the belly laughs, reaching a quarter million on ye olde blog. My inability to cook rice and the joke it became, Panda having a religious experience naked and drunk worshiping Beyoncé on the big screen. Clothing swaps, bottles and bottle and bottle of wine, days and days and days at the beach

Those things don’t take up room in boxes and make me feel light as a feather.

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