10. fish: folly & flagrancy.

Fish had bumped our dinner at an upscale cafe from Saturday to Sunday so that he could attend a housewarming party. The next morning, while I was sweating it out at the gym in my morning HIIT class, fish texted to let me know that, of course, the cafe isn’t open on Sundays; so we’re pooched. I told him it was ok that we were “back to being penpals” and began to discuss things like online shopping and the annual local beer festival. A week would pass and Fish inquired a few times about my plans for the fest, lamenting that he’d been before and it was “just overpriced beer and long lines”. I explained that I’d never been before and, despite my plans for a mostly sober October, I’d already bought tickets for two nights to attend with friends because #bucketlist. I told him which nights I had tickets, for multiple times – and yet, when the Thursday before came, he texted as though he was surprised I would be there at all:

Fish: I bit. Got tickets for Saturday.
Me: Are you? I’ll be with girlfriends but my bro squad and their gfs will be there too. So I’ll be around with whoever.
Fish: Ur heading?
Me: Yeah I told you that.
Fish: I knew you had Friday off.
Me: Lol well if you want me to pretend I don’t know you, I can do that.
Fish: Haha duck off. I dont know how the different venues work but we’ll play it by ear.

When Saturday rolled around I didn’t hear from fish though I knew he had a family brunch in the am and then was going to pre-drink (yes, pre-drink for a beer festival). As I arrived at the venue I saw that, three people ahead of me in the line, he was with his friends. I texted him once I got inside:

Me: Saw you.
Fish: U did? Where are you at? Table?
Me: By the front door.
Fish: Do you have a table?
Me: No. Friends do. Come find me at the photobooth.
Fish: I’m in beer line atm. Lol no.

He didn’t reply for an hour. And I thought the “lol no” was very rude.

Fish: Where is you?
Me: Side bar, near dance floor.

Twenty minutes went by. I had met up with my bro friends briefly, including LB and his new gf  (but that’s another story), and my other group of girl friends were winding down to go home. I was getting drunk as hell on Smirnoff Ice (yes, at a beer festival) and my gf Cheeks turns to me and said “You need to tell me who I’m passing you off to, or were taking you home.” (Bless her heart, for real.) I looked around at the bros but I considered my proximity to LB’s new gf was a skosh inappropriate, so I decided to give fish one last chance – I called him on the phone. Over loud music and a roaring crowd I was able to make out just this: “Hullo? Back bar. Stay on the phone.” I weaved through the venue, eventually spotting a group of people standing in a circle around a green plaid shirt. Bingo. Crouched near the floor, with a finger stuffed in one ear, holding his phone to the other was fish; I hung up and approached him, tapping him on the shoulder. A few of his friends stumbled over for drunk introductions – but cheeks interjected immediately, “Hi, fish, nice to meet you, heard great things, listen, we’re heading out now so you either need to take over watching her for me, or we’re taking her with us.” I only wish she had’ve said “Kapeesh” too. But she’s direct huh? That’s why I love her. Fish nodded along as she spoke and assured “I’ve got her. I’ll make sure she’s good.” She hugged me and we said our “Love yous” and she went on her way. I turned back to fish and I said “Drink?” and the two of us went off on our own, leaving his friends without a goodbye. He commented on how sweaty my face was – uh yea, I was dancing hammered – don’t be annoying, I thought. I bought him a beer and myself another Smirnoff, we drank them by a pillar near the dance floor talking and then kissing and laughing and talking some more. He asked if I minded if he had a cigarette and we went outside. As he lit it, I took it from his hand and began puffing away; he scolded me. We shared two before returning inside, where he said he wanted to grab one more beer before we left. I wanted to say goodbye to the bros and we agreed to meet at the front door in ten minutes.

With one of the bros.

I ordered us an Uber – somehow (drunk reasons) asking to be picked up at our destination – and had to text the Uber to ask how to cancel the ride – and then got in a random cab parked outside of the venue and headed back to fish’s house. I don’t think I asked to stay over – I don’t think he asked me either – we just literally both meandered to his bedroom, got in the blankets, grabbed hands and fell asleep, I don’t think we even spoke. The next morning I remember being mostly naked, laying in bed, holding hands in the early hours of a Sunday morning. He said something that stuck with me:

“It’s a big deal that you stayed over for you, right? You’ve always said no before.”

I told him I stayed because I was in no shape to order another Uber. I hadn’t thought about it but he’s right, I’d always said no, and that “sleepovers were a different set of privileges” for me with guys – basically – I’d have to trust you, a lot. He asked what my plans were and I might as well just stuff my foot in my mouth now:

“Oh I have this coffee date at 2, out of town.”

Shit, even typing it makes my eyes roll. Yes, I’m that stupid, I don’t get typical hangovers; no pain, no puking, just fogginess. That’s literally the only excuse I can give. When I tell the story of that date, it’ll be a guy I call Porsche.

To say fish was taken aback is an understatement, and to say he was horrified would be an exaggeration; more surprised than hurt is my best estimation. “Why would you tell me that” he asked. I sputtered out an apology (sincere), and insisted I honestly didn’t think he would care (true) and that it was just coffee (accurate). But like I said, sprinkled in all these blogs, is all the proof we need of the reasons I just don’t understand what I’m doing until retrospect kicks me in the ass. I knew fish got razzed for the sheer number of Tinder dates he went on, and regardless of it’s veracity, I reconciled that with my behaviour; all’s fair in love and war after all.

That was the last time I slept with fish, both literally and figuratively.

In the next blog you’ll see how we do and don’t bounce back from this faux pas. Spoiler alert: from mid October all the way through to present day – I only see him once despite him asking me several times. And it involves, surprise, a coupon and a voucher at The Bay. Until next time dear readers.


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