Throwback Thursday 1: His other girlfriend

I know. I know. Kinda late to be submitting a post for Throwback Thursday, but I am going to go for it. Because in my small corner of the world, it is still Thursday evening. But yes, I am running out of time!

So, let’s go back to…..hmmmm say 1995:

There was this week in October that was especially irritating. It was a week that actually was respectful enough to realize since Alyssa’s week didn’t  suck royally enough, it deded to end on a note called: Friday the 13th. While some of the inconveniences of the week are hazy at best, I can tell you that something bad (different shades of bad) happened every day that week. Tuesday was especially memorable. Let me share.

I was dating this guy at the time, J. Since 1995 was a period of pagers and no one really carried around cell phones quite yet, we had set up a “date” to meet up at, yes, Hooters. You know, that one on Parker in Aurora. If you live here in Denver, you know the one.  So I met up with J. and his friend and started the evening with a pitcher of crap beer and wings.  All was good at Hooters. Eating wings and stuff. Then an especially skanky girl came up with short hair and a long braid down the back came up to our table and asked to speak with J. He ignored her. I encouraged him to be polite only to be immediately suspect  when they left to go outside to “talk”. I had no clue what was going on.  Twice, I found them standing a few feet apart when I faked answering a page at the phone booth. We finally finished our wings and the second pitcher of the same dilate crap beer. Then we left and stopped by the girl (we can call her K.). J. paused a little too long and K. got a little too friendly. K. asked me why I was in a rush to leave with her boyfriend. I said “no, he’s my boyfriend”. And that is when she leaped off her bar stool and lunged at me. I hid behind J. and ripped his “Rolex” watch off, which broke in pieces. What are the chances it was a Rolex? Anway…..The girl K. and I ran around, I shit you not, the lobby and the parking lot for ten minutes. At this point, our brave “boyfriend” decided to plot his exit. He got in his car and simply left us. That asshole. No one had phones. No one was texting. No one even bothered to page him as he was en route to his safety nest, the basement of his parents home.

After yelling for ten minutes, and a little exercise around the parking lot, we calmed down. We then plotted a little revenge. Using a dash of poor 20-something judgement, I got in this crazy girl’s car and we headed south. We showed up at his house, knocked on the door and shocked the crap out of J.’s parents. We stomped down to the basement where he was undressing down to his American flag boxers, greeting us. K. needed to really talk to him.  Then K. drops the P-bomb. WTF? What more do I need to endure. Jesus, this was quite a night.  Eventually, we went back to Hooters and my car was waiting for me.

Two Weeks Later:

I never saw K. again. I saw J. a few weeks later at a bar and he told me K. had totally lied and couldn’t fax him legitimate blood test papers.  We ended up talking and he apologized. We saw each other again a few times (again, poor 20- something judgement), but then I never saw him again.

21 years Later:
I spotted him on Facebook and for the hell of it, I sent a friend request. Stupid. I never heard a response.

Well, that was a fun trip down memory lane.