“I’m fat,” said Big Man on Campus (ex college boyfriend, still very good friend). “I’m loosing my girlish figure.”
“So am I,” I replied. “I’ve been working out like a fiend, cardio, weights, yoga but it does nothing to curb my daily cupcake/cookie craving at 3:00 p.m.”
“I’m lazy. I haven’t been working out, I haven’t been eating well, I’ve been drinking a lot. It’s the tri-fecta of lazy and fat.”
“Wow. Yep – that’d do it. Well, if it helps, I still love you!”
“I feel unattractive with my shirt off. Could you please pass the tater tots?”
"I'm not quite to that point yet. I still feel attractive with my shirt off. Mostly because my boobs are fabulous and I wear sexy lingerie."
(Waitress walks by) “Ya’ll doing ok?”
“I’ll take another Miller Lite draft and he’ll have another rum & coke”
“And an order of the Spinach Dip”
(Waitress walks away)
“I hate men”
“What's the reason this week?”
“Well – I had an AMAZING date with Irish Guy on Friday. At first, I thought ‘oh no! I’m being too much myself – being a little too honest, sarcastic, etc.’ but then he gave me the most amazing kiss ever!! Truth be told, we made out for a good 30 minutes – unbelievable! So I took that as a good sign.”
“Making out with someone for 30 minutes is never a BAD sign”
“I mean, you wouldn’t make out for 30 minutes with someone you weren’t attracted to, right?”
“Depends on how drunk I was”
(Scarlett starts counting the number of drinks ordered in her head…)
“I’m just kidding! I’m sure he was attracted to you. So what’s the problem?”
“Well, I didn’t hear from him all weekend and then I get a little email on Monday saying ‘how was the rest of your weekend? I went to an Oscar party last night but left early because I didn’t want to be a vegetable today’ so I replied, ‘A vegetable? Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?’ (ha. ha. cute, no?) and then I gave him a few sentences about my weekend, commented on the cold weather – asked him what he was up to this week and…NOTHING. No reply email. No “I had a great time and would love to see you again.” NOTHING. WTF?"
“Well, give him one more day to respond and if nothing, fuck him”
“It’s still frustrating.”
“I’m interested in a girl.”
“Really? Do tell.”
“She’s married”
That spawned a whole different conversation. As we walked out BMOC, grabs a few Mardi Gras beads that decorated the bar Tuesday evening and placed them over my head.
"You have to show me your boobs now."
"You've alerady seen my boobs."
"True. Well then consider those beads payment for services rendered."
"So noted."
Frankly,
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