Drunk and Disorderly

Isn't that a great picture? A lot of people I went to high school with or knew once upon a time have actual babies. Not me. Not that I'm against having a baby but I don't want any at this stage of my life. I'm not even 22 for one. BUT I do have 2 cats, featured to the right. The first one is Pickles (named from "The Fire Cat" story I was read numerous times as a child) and the other is Meeko (tongue out, mid-meow because I'm not allowed to be outside, I have to be with him all the time, the little attention whore). As silly as people think it is to refer to pets as kids, they really are when you think about it. They can't talk, they can't feed themselves, and depending on the pet, can't always clean themselves, and you end up cleaning up their poop. Not to mention they can be expensive! (Fixing Pickles=$115, Fixing Meeko=$70, Meds for both a few months ago=$100, Actrium cat food=$15/bag, clumping litter=$7, toys=$25-30 every few months)

Alright enough about the furr babies...on to more important things!

I have the worst dating record of anyone I know. I wouldn't be so bold to say the worst ever, but I think I make the list. My last date takes the cake...

Saturday night, date night. Keith comes over around 10pm (that was my fault, Abby and I were trying to do my hair and the first attempt didn't turn out, so it had to be re-washed, blow dryed and styled again). I had planned to have a few drinks but the heat gets to me, and with the addition of alcohol to the equation I had a sneaking suspicion I'd be barfing my guts out by the wee hours of Sunday morning. Keith had a bottle of fireball (200mL of cinnamon whiskey) and 3/4 of a bottle of Jack (Mickey sized). We watched most of the Stewie Griffen: The Untold Story dvd before walking to the club. Actually, I walked he kind of weaved his way there.

We head to the outdoor smoking section to find Abby and Cameron and I introduce Keith to them, we all chit chat for a while before the guys decide to head in and play some pool. By now the alcohol is really kicking in and Keith almost takes Abby and myself (And a few other bar patrons) out with the pool cue. He managed to thwack me upside the head twice dispite my best efforts to dodge.

Cameron and Abby headed back outside after Cameron won the game, but someone challenged Keith to a match and so I stayed to watch. Boring but, ah the things we do for our dates. Some drunken chick is leaning all over the table with her breasts practically popping out of her lowcut top, and Keith's eyes almost popping out of his head. He says he hates skanks, but I think that fades with drinking. He certainly didn't mine the attention Saturday night. I said nothing. I was pretty cool about it.

As we're heading outside he tells me he has to go to the washroom. So I wait, and wait, and wait some more. A full song and a half and he hasn't come out. Hot and bored I head outside and talk with Abby, Cameron and Mike (who showed up during the game of pool). Chat with them for a while before we all realize Keith still hasn't come out. I head back in and find Keith by the video games, and ask him where he's been. His response is "I have to go to the bathroom!!" and runs back to the washroom. Fed up at this point because it hasn't been much of a date, I go back outside. A few songs pass, still no Keith.

This time Mike comes inside with me and he checks the washrooms, doesn't see Keith. We got back out, more time passes, and finally Cameron says he'll go knock on some stalls and check if Keith is in there. Well, the door to the men's washroom is open and we can see a pair of feed with some black boots on (that look A LOT) like the ones Keith had been wearing. Cameron knocks, peeks in the crack of the door, the guy looks like Keith. So we all stand there, in view of the washroom, and in full view of the bar (remember that, it's important). Last call is announced and the last fast song of the evening is being played. No Keith. Troy the Bouncer is sent in, told not to let Keith drive home (his car is at my place but he has his keys) and to take a cab instead. He agree's and we leave because it's obvious Keith can't come out.

Grab a bite to eat at the restaurant, and come home. First thing I notice when I get the door open is that the cats are nervous. I look back outside to see if one of the strays is out and bothering them, but the coast is clear. No strays. I come inside and find a pair of black boots on my mat. That's strange. I remember thinking, and I creep towards my bedroom where I see a pair of feet. I have a pretty good idea who it is in my damn bed but I am still terrified because the door was locked. I know I locked that door, I checked it.

Went into the bedroom and he wakes up and say "hi". I, rather curtly I must say, demand to know how he got in. My tone is missed on him, since he's drunk and tired, and he simply says "I don't know, I don't remember". I end up leaving him there despite the temptation to call a cab or even the cops. Yeah, he was my date but I only met him 2 weeks ago. I don't know him that well.

Normally, I'm a heavy sleeper, not much can wake me up. I've slept through earthquakes, huge fires, explosions from the fires, and all kinds of commotion. I once slept through construction beside my bedroom where a jackhammer was in use for the entire length of my sleep and didn't once hear it. But when Keith got up I was wake. Tired as hell but awake.

I explain what I have just told you and he gets upset. It wasn't him, he tells me, in the stall hurling and crapping his guts out. He's 'insulted' that we would think he's that drunk. Later he claimed he wasn't insulted just embarassed. But the word insulted came up several times. He left around 10ish in the morning, and I was glad he did. He later revealed that he'd wanted to stay but was "embarassed".

He was having a pity party for himself when we spoke on MSN on Sunday and Monday. I lost my temper with that because I'd forgiven him and he wouldn't let up. It got annoying. He says he was sharing his feelings, but having told Abby what was said, she agreed wholeheartedly that he was infact playing the pity card. He got on my nerves again last night by saying once he gets to know me better he'll know what "sets you off".

That *$&% pissed me off like you wouldn't believe. I was incredibly understanding about the entire situation and had let it go. But you know what? It does $%*# set me off that some guy I barely know broke into my apartment drunk and fell asleep not on the couch but in my damn bed. And it does $*%@ set me off that he would't let it go when I told him not to worry and that it was better to find out that way (locks are being changed today).

Sets me off. I was ready to set my foot off in his ass is what.