There's a new guy at work, and they put him next to me because clearly they loathe him, and I was reading your most-hated Christmas songs yesterday and laughing out loud. Ell Oh Ell-ing, as they say. And by "they" I mean assholes.
Seriously. When I was out there dating during my Ned breakup, any man who included "LOL" in his correspondence got immediately disqualified. Faithful Reader Fay, who I am sorry to tell you LOLs but not in front of me, used to say, "You've gotta get over the LOL thing." She also used to say, "You've gotta get over the morning text thing." Fay has no idea what she's talking about, with her happy marriage and so forth.
If I ever went out with a guy and the next morning he texted, "Good morning, June," I immediately got a soft cone. I mean, when I was first dating Ned, I still liked him even when he wrote me the morning after our first date, when all he had to do was nudge me.
Harrrrrrrrr. That is untrue. Ned and I did not even kiss till the second date. I swear. And then we kissed good night at the door 417 times for two months, because unbeknownst to me he was all, "This one, I'm going to actually get to know first."
Why I had to be the recipient of the New-Non-Bone-Jumping-Ned experiment is beyond me, because all I WANTED to do was stop getting to know him and get to know him, if you're picking up what I'm throwing down.
THE POINT IS, Ned's email the day after our first date was well-written, and clever, and nice, and actually necessary cause he was leaving town, and I was all, Oooooo, cannot wait to kiss this guy at the door for the next 417 dates.
But the uninspired, "Good morning, June" text just didn't do it for me. You guys should totally leave "Good morning, June" comments all day now. Or just "LOL."
What was I originally talking about? Oh. The poor guy next to me. So yeah, I laughed out loud yesterday, and he looked over at me, because he's new and not immune to my personality like new people always are for about a month, and then they ignore me.
"I should tell you I have blog comments, and sometimes they make me laugh. Just ignore me," I told him, and the Ignore June train is pullin' in.
"Let's just pretend there's a, you know, wall between us," he said, laughing and sort of pantomiming a wall, and I liked him right away, because bitchy always appeals to me.========
(That was Steely Dan, keyboard walking. Apparently big on equal rights.)
Speaking of when I was dating when Ned and I were apart, yesterday I was emailing with him, and back in the day we used to email all the time. At least a few times a day. Now he's all fancy president, and my job got all different, and sometimes we have a frantic phone call at lunchtime and that's it. But yesterday we emailed, and I made some sort of joke about some dude I dated while we were apart, and some even funnier joke about how I'd had sex with that guy so many times and so on, and pressed Send, because HAVE YOU MET ME?
I never heard from Ned again that day, but I didn't think anything of it now that we're both Officially Busy®. We were supposed to have dinner, and usually he'll call around 5:30 to tell me how many more damn hours he'll be at work, and Dear My Workplace: If you were considering making me president, please don't. Good gravy.
But I still didn't think anything of it when it was 7:00 and no Ned, and maybe I should stop with the benign neglect, because finally he called me to say he was on his way, and I was all, "Did you work late?" and he said, "No. I've been home."
"You've been HOME? Why didn't you come get me?"
Turns out Ned was mad mad mad at me, because he BELIEVED me that I'd slept with that dude, and that I'd accidentally let "the truth" slip out and OH MY GOD. You know how sometimes I'll make some sort of joke here, like that I'm a gold medal Olympian, and one or two of you will be all, "June, I didn't know you threw the discus" and I'll be all OH MY GOD I WAS KIDDING? You know how that happens?
That is totally what happened yesterday. I always think people know when I'm joking, and I figured Ned has been knowing me FIVE YEARS now and would know when I was making a tasteless hilarious joke (please see: All the time) but no.
Oh, poor little Ned. He went to the store and bought a 12-pack. He'd been planning to drink it and not call me. But then he talked to me instead and SEE HOW MUCH PROGRESS?
Anyway, I feel like a dick. The sex with that guy wasn't even that great, so.
See what I did? I made another terrible joke.
Anyway, we did go out to dinner, and came home after to Needy Committee love. At dinner, we sat behind an older couple of color who were nattily dressed and having a great time with each other. "Do you hear them?" asked Ned. "They're having such a good time together. Every couple should aspire to be this couple."
We left the same time they did, and they walked through the parking lot holding hands,
then got in separate cars and left.
"HOLY SHIT," we both said.
So. The secret to happiness is an affair. Lesson. Learned.
I leave you with this image of one of the Alexes, who turned 30 yesterday. God. Remember when that seemed old? It's sort of like how I was sad when I hit 127 pounds.
I may be old and I may be chubby, but I can still sleep with everyone in town when I broke up with Ned.
See what I did. I did it again.