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Sunday, August 22, 2004

"excuse me, you have to leave"


now, this story took place about a week or two ago, but it's such a fantastic (literally, surreal) little ditty.

I'd been seeing this guy very casually. He's moving to California, so it was one of those relationships that was doomed from the start, but we went for it anyway, for some stupid reason. the result was this love/hate relationship that stemmed from us both being surprised and intrigued by our similar personalities and annoyed that the other would no longer be around in a month or so. we often drank together and this further encouraged our passionate behavior.

so there was a Modest Mouse concert at the Hammerstein Ballroom. my friend had bought 4 tickets, two for her and her boy, and the other two for me and whomever (preferably not the love/hate dude, as she'd suggested, but i didn't listen). my friend, her boy, and myself meet up with love/hate boy in the city. he puts his bag in our car and we stand in line for 25 minutes to get in, observing how fucking young and 80s-fashion influenced the crowd is. we wonder if we're the oldest people here, but then see a man with a heavily receeding hairline and decide we aren't. love/hate boy forgets that he has some kind of knife on him, so i hide it in my purse so that we can make it through the pat-down at the door. it's kind of a thrill to smuggle weapons.

we get inside and swiftly order drinks. three of us are drinking Red Bull and Vodka very heavily, and my girlfriend is drinking nothing. she wants to wait until we go out afterward because Bud draft is beneath her and Red Bull is gross. the two opening bands are atrocious, we decide. we watch one person in the crowd get ejected for throwing popcorn at the singer. we laugh, somewhat loudly, as we are drunk. i argue with a short couple behind me because apparently i'm swaying. she tells me to "have another drink." love/hate boy curses at them, and i feel good because he's supporting me, which is different. more Red Bull and vodka. I lose track of my drinks and my girlfriend tells me that i'm acting like i'm on speed. i tell her that i feel like i'm on speed. we laugh. i tell her i won't have any more Red Bull and Vodka, but i keep drinking them.

here is where it gets fuzzy. i instantly became drunk and my love/hate boy was taking too long to get our drinks. i'd given him a 50, and he comes back, 30 minutes later with two drinks and no change. he has no idea what happened to the money. i tell him he probably bought chicks some drinks. he gets annoyed.

transport to the boy and I are arguing and i'm not sure what it's about. i reach for him and he grabs my arm and twists it. it hurts, and i deduce that since i'm drunk, it shouldn't hurt, so he must have really really hurt me. i begin to cry and storm out of the venue. my girlfriend and her boy follow me. there is no re-entry. for some reason, i'd assumed love/hate boy would've followed. he didn't. he texts me "wait, what the fuck" i text back "come out." he doesn't respond. he's the only person i've ever texted on a regular basis and that makes me resent him.

i call him and hear a girl in the background. he says he's staying with her tonight; she's a lawyer and has a place in the city. i'm fucking furious. i start crying more heavily now and plead with security to let me in. they do; i must've looked pathetic. i find him talking to the girl at the bar and resist the urge to punch her. it's a good thing i didn't. love/hate boy and i exchange words loudly, then i follow him to the bathroom. i tell him he hurt me and that's why i left. he said, "fuck that, next thing i know, you'll tell me i raped you." i'm shocked at his behavior.

suddenly, we're no longer fighting. we walk up the stairs to watch MM, as they've just come on. i'd forgotten about my two friends waiting outside. they weren't allowed in because my girlfriend's boy is acting violent, screaming at security and random people on the street. at the top of the bathroom stairs there is a big security guard. he grabs love/hate boy by the arm and says, "you have to leave." love/hate boy complies, "ok." we leave the venue, not having heard more than 5 seconds of the headliner. love/hate boy instantly calls female friends and begins proposing marriage. i try calling some male friends to make him jealous, but none answer the phone. i am crying again.

we walk to my friend's car and get in, apologizing. her boy is still acting violent, but i'm oblivious. she decides it's best that we just go home. we all agree or just don't care. love/hate boy is now all over me in the back seat of my friend's car.the next day, the two boys claim they must have been slipped something. i don't believe them.

i realize that i am stuck on thrilling events, regardless of how they happen. it was a bad evening, but i can laugh at it. i still talk to love/hate boy and let him manipulate me into thinking i'm also flawed. i must be. why else would i interact with this person? i think of college when i'd hang out with dealers. i knew i wasn't at the level they were, but i liked the thrill. and it made me feel superior, i guess, despite my obvious addictions.

i'm not sure if i'm in control and tweaking the knobs to get rid of that annoying buzz or if i am in fact being spun. admitting your weakness is only part of the process, but it's startling when you think you enjoy it.

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