Spilled Cola

The short version: Le spilled coke in my bed, and I didn't do anything about it.

The Long version:

Saturday night I watched Teenage Catgirls in Heat.

This isn't the interesting part, I often watch stupid movies on Saturday night.

Usually it's by myself though. I normally do not watch them with Le (ex), Jim (roommate), and Trevor (pretentious bastard.) Unfortunately, since I am the only one of that group interested in gratuitous displays of breasts, or remotely interested in breasts at all, there was no chance anyone else would like the film.

I was completely against the endeavor from the start.

Jim - "You did say you would watch it with Le sometime. How about we invite Le and Trevor over Saturday and we can all watch it together."

Me - "That is a horribe, horrible idea. Besides, I said 'sometime' meaning some abstract time in the future, like never."

Jim - "You know, the four of us never hang out anymore, since you know, things got weird."

Me - "You mean since Le dumped me and you, err, rejected or whatever Trevor?"

Jim - "Umm, yeah."

Me - "Well maybe there's a reason for that."

And why Teenage Catgirls in Heat? Obviously, Jim's attempt to show that even though he has been responsible for renting and forcing people to watch Free Enterprise, Never Been Kissed, and How I Spent My Summer Vacation, my taste in movies is "worse."

So, of course, because I don't want to do it and I think it's a horrible idea, there they all are on Saturday night, watching Teenage Catgirls in Heat in my room.

And Le spills her glass of Coke all over my bed.

Wait, that's not the entertaining part.

Then she takes one of my pillows, puts it over the spilled coke, and sits down on the pillow.

What the fuck! I mean, it's one thing to break my heart. I'm sure within a few decades I'll be way over that. But to spill Coke on my bed, where I spend more than half my life sleeping, and then take one of my ultra-comfy perfect down pillows and sit... AAAAAHHHHH!!

I didn't even know what to say. I'm always ready with some smart-ass or sarcastic comeback or something. Especially with Le. I mean before she dumped me. I don't think I've said anything clever since, but before then, yeah, definitely, I was mr. fucking witty.

But nothing. I can't come up with anything. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Not a groan, not something perverse about liquids in my bed, not a "fuck you", not a "god dammit wasn't breaking my heart enough." Nothing.

Pathetic, I know.

But really. I'm over her.

I mean, I'm working on it.