Saturday, August 18, 2007

Relationships Suck; Cafe Sevilla Rules

I don't talk much about my past relationships here, but some past relationships seem to have been slapping me in the face lately, so now is when I get personal. For just a minute. Or something.

Today I had to take the bus to pick up my car that I left on Thursday in Banker's Hill. While I listened to music I hijacked from Kristian on my iPod, all I wanted was to get my car and head to Cafe Sevilla for happy hour. My college boyfriend was from Barcelona, and one of my best friends in school was from Madrid, so I feel well versed in comida espanola despite the fact that I've never been to the country. So yeah, I was thinking a little about Jaan as I made my way downtown and circled the blocks nearby more than a few times before scoring a spot one block away from Sevilla.

Being single now, I don't mind eating alone, in fact, it can be totally liberating being able to order exactly what I want. Some kalamata olive loaf with alioli, tortilla espanola, albondigas al jerez, and a non menu item... an order of jamon serrano. I was in a happy place and glad to be dining in the corner of the bar until a couple sat next to me.

Maybe a first date, maybe a 'friend' thing that the dude hoped would evolve to something more, I don't really know, but let me just say listening to people in the 'get to know me' stage is god fucking awful. Worse was that she is a pageant person, competing in November in the Miss California competition, and could not stop talking about it. Even worse than that was that she was in some accident or something, so she was in a back and neck cast that may or may not have resulted in her spiky voice.

I mean, I'm sure they're both nice people. But pain-ful to listen to the conversation. And I'm not an eavesdropper, but they sat right next to me at the bar and at one point, she even talked to me about how awesome the sangria was. So there was this awkward convo and I get a text from another who married a girl from Spain, moved to the Costa del Sol for a few years, then came back and lived with me for a while, then moved on, then met some chick, moved to LA, and now he's suddenly back and wants to re-enter, contaminate, or otherwise be a part of my life again. And I'm a sucker. At this point it's been all texting, but I know I will give in at some point, and we'll hang out, and I'll get all woozy and enchanted and then the fucking bastard will do what he always does and fucking disappoint. period.

I don't really have a point to this post. But just noting a little ex notalgia or something. But then I just finished watching The Last Kiss on HBO On Demand. And man, that shit is harsh. Between having to listen to innane first date conversation at Sevilla, all the while texting back and forth with my ex, then watching that movie about four supremely dysfunctional relationships (the couple married 30 years who admit infidelity, the married with child couple that scream incessantly, the dude who got dumped by his high school girlfriend, and Zach Braff, who plays the cheating soon to be father) and I think maybe, as much as I've fought it, I am just made to be the single chick with the cats.


Unknown said...

Fuck that noise. Tell homeboy to piss off.

Reelmandy said...

We should have dinner alone together sometime.