Earl and I were supposed to go to a movie, but instead decided to meet for a drink and to talk as we haven't laid eyes on each other in nearly three weeks. Yet another stupid idea in a week full of them. Upon arrival at Woody's we were immediately accosted by Mr. Happy, a sometimes entertaining but mostly aggravating acquaintance of mine. I actually don't mind his company, but he can be a bit of a strange duck, so I prefer planned visits rather than being ambushed. Earl calls him my stalker. He has this way of appearing out of nowhere at the very moment I am thinking "I wonder if he's gonna show up yet again." It's like merely contemplating him conjures his presence.
Creepy.
He doesn't seem to understand, simply because you are friends with someone you run into while out for the night, that you can't just join their party uninvited. At least ask "Can I join you?" It's awkward - believe it or not, my first instinct is usually to be nice - but he's done this so many times I no longer care if he thinks I'm rude or not. After enduring a pointless tale about some pointless television show about inventors who waste their entire lives and life savings on pointless inventions, Earl was this close to telling him to scram. I kind of wish he had, but I suppose it's better in the end that he didn't.
Speaking of ambushed, right after Mr. Happy we bump into Bobby. Bobby has a good heart (well, I used to think that, but I have my doubts - he's good at making you think he does, I'll give him that) but he's hands down the most mentally and emotionally fucked up person I've ever met in my life. Off the charts certifiable. We're both from Timmins and he used to be good friends with my roommate and me - there's a lot of history there - but we have been estranged since I broke up with the Ex. Not because he took the Ex's side, but because he is incapable of understanding the concept of "there is no side, there is just me and there is just him." He seemed to think he had to choose one or the other, despite everyone telling him quite clearly that he did not. So he created these two sides in his head, and then picked the Ex and didn't call me for three months. As I've said before, I don't do bullshit, so I decided to cut him out of my life. My roommate decided the same thing, but for her own reasons.
However, Bobby was out to celebrate his 34th birthday, so I felt compelled to wish him a good one. I don't hate him, after all, I just don't want to deal with his complicated, non-sensical, emotionally charged ramblings. He's like the eight-ball fuelled love child of Linda Blair and Dr. Phil.
I should've known better. He went on about my roommate, and how the madness between them needs to stop, and about how me and the Ex were meant to get back together. "How could they not after six years!?" he exclaimed, as if our break-up had torn the very fabric of existence and soon ABBA would be announcing their upcoming world reunion tour while giant unicorns begin running down children in the street.
Then he told some story about the Ex reaching a really low point (I'm respectful enough not to repeat it here - considering the source, it's not worth putting into words as I'm more than sure the real story is quite different. Probably equally as sad, but quite different). Then he asked me if that's why I left him. Repeatedly. "Did he do something like that while you were with him? Is that why you left? Because then I'll understand. I didn't know he did things like that."
"Bobby," I replied, trying to rein in my frustration with this pointless topic, "it doesn't matter. He's not my problem anymore. There's nothing I can do about it."
He wouldn't let it go. He just kept talking and asking and talking and asking. I wanted to scream. I could feel the life energy being sucked from me. Then he went on about forgiveness, and how he forgives me. Earl pointed out that perhaps I was the one who should be doing the forgiving, not Bobby, but in a fit of exasperation I spit out something about forgiving him - no really, I forgive you - in the hopes he would go away.
Eventually he did. Earl and I talked for awhile after, but the pure bullshit of it all (Earl is friends with the Ex and my former group of friends, by the way, and often gets caught in the middle - I sometimes call him Swiss Miss, as in neutral Switzerland, as he is very good at sparing me all the details of their unmissed nonsense) had taken it's toll. We left. Earl walked me close to home and then we went our seperate ways.
All I wanted was a fun, carefree night. Instead I run smack up against all the bullshit I thought I'd left behind. I've had it with the gay village. Same people, same music, same old, same old. Don't get me wrong - I love the community, mostly enjoy hanging out in it, and am grateful for it's existence. But I'm ready for a change of scenery. It's time to throw a grenade in my stale and boring social patterns, put the pieces back together again, and see what new and interesting shapes I can come up with.
If there's anything I hate more than bullshit, it's the prospect of being boring.
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