PT and I had planned a hip, swank, drunken evening out at Opia in order to stop getting on each other's nerves and to give me an excuse to dress up AND GO OUT. We get there and I almost run over one of the hippie ex-roommates. SHIT. I stop the car and am shaking with anger, with extreme annoyance, with the unfairness of it all. Like, seriously, CAN YOU STOP RUINING MY LIFE ALREADY???
I knew that I couldn't go in there without causing a scene, and even though one part of me REALLY WANTS to, we decide to preserve my integrity for my upcoming court case and leave.
On the way to Vincent's, PT lets me rant and rave about why the hell those hippie jerks think they can go to MY BAR and where the hell are they getting money for martinis when they owe me $700??? He also buys me a cosmopolitan the second we get there while I am smoking furiously outside. And that, along with subsequent manhattans and the HMIW saying that my shoes were HOTT, managed to salvage the night as well as my sanity.
Monday, May 02, 2005
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Everyone that thinks you should have hit them say "I"
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