So I got drunk at noon on a Wednesday…

“God, I hate the rain,” WAF remarked as we huddled under her umbrella. Just as we approached an intersection, a gust of wind flipped her umbrella outwards.
“Fuck. I hate this umbrella, too. It’s completely useless.” Without another word, she tossed the umbrella on the ground. It was still open, still flipped backward, and now lying on the street in front of a parked car.
“You’re just going to leave that there?” I asked, as she started to cross the street without checking traffic.
I jogged to keep up with her. “You can’t just leave that there, what if it flies into oncoming traffic?”
“Don’t be silly. How could it do that?”
“Wind! Strong wind! I mean, Mary Poppins could fly with her umbrella!” Nearby, a guy in a suit gave us a strange look.
“Nope, it’s not going to happen.” She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.

I was downtown with WAF during her lunch break to make sure she was ok – and by that I mean, she wasn’t running back into the arms of BAD. Except now she wanted to run into the arms of her married coworker, who was apparently very sweet on her and open to the idea of a no-strings-attached affair. As if.
We ducked into a 50s-themed restaurant-bar and WAF ordered a bottle of wine before I had even removed my coat.
“Are you not eating?”
“Are you kidding? Everything on their menu has to be at least 300 calories. I can’t afford that. Plus I need alcohol if I’m going to get through today without calling BAD.” So this was how she lost twenty pounds since the last time I saw her. Good ol’ anorexia. Who needs food when you have cigarettes and alcohol? I considered force-feeding her fries, but by the time our waitress returned, I was happily buzzed and had forgotten all about it. Great, I was drunk at noon on a Wednesday off of indistinguishable house wine. And I wasn’t even the depressed one.

Soon we were chain-smoking on the patio and bashing all the men in our lives, past and present. We debated embracing homosexuality, then thought better of it. As I so eloquently put it, “Why would you want to deal with girls? I mean, PMS, pregnancy, menopause? Hello bitch extraordinaire.”

By the time her lunch break was over, I had had enough of her bitching and could feel a dull hunger in my stomach. HB called me just in time to invite me out for some real food. I wonder what WAF would have said about our meal of fried chicken wings.

Being with HB made me realize why I used to have so many guy friends. Hanging with guys is so easy, so stress-free. I can just let loose, pig out, have fun, whatever. Conversations with girl friends are always so emotionally charged, and if they’re not bitching about their boyfriend then they’re bitching about their lack of boyfriend. I mean, it’s always nice to have girl friends to commiserate with and the drama can be entertaining, but sometimes it’s a bit much.
HB was exactly what I needed. And he was so happy to see me. He is always so happy, all smiles, worry-free. I often wonder if the kid isn’t on drugs. If he is, what the hell is he on and where can I get some?

As refreshing as it was to be with HB after hanging out with an emotionally unstable WAF, there were a few awkward moments.
…Like when I asked whether WAF and I could crash on his couch after clubbing and he said, “Sure, you two can stay over. But not her.” Then… it would just be me? ‘Cause that wouldn’t be awkward, considering the last time I’d stayed at his place, we spent all morning cuddling on the couch and taking pictures of each other with my camera.
“Uh, you know what, maybe we won’t need to crash at your place. I’ll let you know.”
…Or when he tried to play footsie under the table.
…Or when he adamantly defined a ‘date’ as ‘a guy and a girl planning to meet each other – just the two of them.’ Jesus, if that’s the definition then I have gone on more dates with him than I have shoes in my closet.

So when he invited me back to his place to “see his new lamp,” I promptly declined. I had more emotionally unstable girl friends to attend to.

Oh, and speaking of gender-bitching, check out two simultaneous conversations I was having with WAF and BBB.

Q: Do you ever get tired of gender-bitching? The never-ending ‘boys are stupid – no, girls are complicated’ debate? Why can’t we just agree that we all suck?