Yeah, I know I haven't written in a while.
Which almost negates the point of being alive, but I'm getting morose.
Fall is probably my favorite season, due in no small part to the fact that I love love LOVE college football. I mean, really, what is better than looking at underage guys in tight pants? ....That's right, nothing. God IS good.
This past weekend, I was SO excited to make the trek with my friends to a college football game. Since my alma mater is on the other side of the country, this was the only occasion I was going to have to get some gridiron action. I ordered my t-shirt online, prepped my flask, and was ready to enjoy the autumnal fun of tailgating.
I practically skip into the tailgate, ready for some bbq feasting and filled with the unbridled joy that only the possibility of new guys can bring. My kite was flying high, shall we say. And then, as I turn the corner, who should I see but my ex-bf, the man who broke my heart, that pompous ass.
HOW DARE HE?! He doesn't even like football! He lives in New YORK for christssake! Football, college football, is clearly MY thing!
I panic slightly as I turn my back quickly, wondering if there was any way in hell I could avoid him for the next 6 hours. Sadly, because I had come to the game with his two best friends, this was not to be. I feel a tap on my shoulder,
"Heeeeey...I thought you might be coming" he said, as he pulled me into a much to long hug.
Bullshit you didn't know I was coming. It's been on my FB wall for more than a month, and OF COURSE you FB stalk me.
The sardonic grin on his face made me sorry we'd ever dated.
My only solace was that my friend D, the ex-bfs best friend, was also consigned to ex misery, as his ex-girlfriend ( who is now engaged to his former roommate), was also making a star turn at a tailgate for a sport she probably couldn't even spell, much less follow.
My friends managed to find a table and tried to pretend things were just normal. It wasn't long, however, before the 2 exes descended on us and tried to make small talk. Awkward silences ensued. D left the table a short while afterward, leaving me to fend for myself.
When I finally managed to wiggle away back to D and the group, I punched him in the arm and reproached him for leaving me there all alone.
"I couldn't sit at the dirty ex table anymore. It was too much", he said.
I managed to recover my spirits in time for the game ( with the assistance of a lot of beer). And the fact that the ex-bf was relegated to the dirty ex section of the stadium while I remained with his two best friends.....well that was just the icing on the cake.
