So Anyways

Jennie has a real talent for acquiring people. Sure, it sounds like a good quality on paper, but, in fact, it can be beyond annoying. Take for example right now. I’m crammed into a corner booth with Steve? I think it’s Steve. He’s a random dude she met at the first bar we hit up tonight. He was sitting at a high top alone when Jennie beckoned him over for a shot and now I’m the one who can’t shake him. 

“Tell me a fun fact about you,” I say unenthusiastically, trying to break up the awkward silence until Jennie gets back from the bar. 

I stir my vodka soda before taking a giant sip. I cough and bits of booze and spit go back in my glass. I look up at Steve…it’s Steve right? No, I think it’s Sam? Samson? to see if he noticed and then realize I don’t really care.

“Oh man, I’m telling you, this shit is too crazy to make up,” he says, suddenly waving his hands wildly. I duck my head to get out of his way. “I was dating this girl for a few years down in Atlanta where I’m from. I like damaged girls -- man, that makes me sound like a super creeper when I say it out loud and that’s not exactly what I mean. I just seem to always end up with girls who have ‘colorful’ pasts, you know what I mean? I can’t seem to help it.”

I don’t know what he means, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he is about to tell me. I look around the room. Jennie is hanging off her newest mark at the bar. She’s laughing loudly – too loudly – there’s no way whatever that guy is saying warrants that big of a reaction.

Ugh,  I just wanted to meet up for a drink or two and get an update on her life before she flew back to Scottsdale tomorrow morning. I did not sign up to baby-sit her new friend – was it Mark? – who apparently didn’t understand social cues and had no issue becoming the third wheel on our girl’s night out.

Or was I the third wheel now? 

I know I sound bitter, but it’s all Jennie’s fault that I’m in this situation in the first place and now I have no idea how the hell I’m going to get out of it. Jennie says I’m too much of a people pleaser and she’s not wrong. I hate the thought of someone – even a doofus like this guy…Chad? – thinking I’m rude or inconsiderate or I don’t know what it is. I blame my Catholic upbringing. It’s easiest that way. 

“So anyways Victoria -- Vicky to her Jersey family--no joke moved to Atlanta to get off the grid...aka hide from her mobster ties. She, like, put herself into witness protection,” he says. 

I nod and stir my drink.

“It wasn’t until we’d been dating for like four months that she even remotely started talking about her family at all. 

“So anyways, they were alive alright but they were in the mob -- I’m not shitting you -- like Godfather style. They were in so deep in a bad way that Vic moved her ass to the ATL to remove herself from the situation. Anyways we were hanging out for a few months and cuddling in bed one night when she unloaded all this on me. Isn’t it insane? Like her dad has given the head nod to off people…”

“What’s going on party people!??” Jennie slides into the seat next to me, pushing me closer to talkative Tim…no it’s not Tim. Her new friend slides in next to her. “What are you guys talking about?”

“The mob,” I respond dryly. 

“Oh that’s fun,” she says with a laugh and snuggles in closer to her fresh meat.

Jeff! His name is Jeff! 

“So anyway, she went to this hella prestigious high school in New York, I think Gossip Girl was based on it...she had this best friend named Jules and she was Jersey to like 110 percent. I’m talking big nails, big hair...tight little body. Jersey girls are weird like that -- on paper they sound like they should be gaudy as all hell but when you put all those over-the-top elements together in one package it’s awesome.”

“Hold that thought,” I say. “I need to get another drink.”

The bar is slammed but I’m somehow able to get the bartender’s attention right away. 

“Double vodka soda,” I say defeatedly. “Tab is Miller.” 

I slowly walk back to the table. Jennie and her friend are completely enthralled by Jeff’s story so I silently slide back into my seat and settle in for the show. 

“So anyways, I knew I was in for a wild ride the second we got on the plane. Vic kept saying stuff like, ‘‘Your haircut makes you look like a fed. Don’t speak at all during dinner.’  Well anyways, this is the first time I’m hearing that my girlfriend thinks I look like a fucking cop pig and I’m like, what are you talking about? Are you serious?!? Now I’m getting a little nervous like, what the hell did I sign up for.

“So anyways, we’re parking and Jules walks out the front door with her cousins who are, no joke, the most obvious gangsters I have ever seen. I’m talking tracksuits from head to toe and gold chains. I was like, this is a joke, right?

“So anyways, we enter this three-story mansion and we go straight to the basement where there’s the biggest train set I have ever seen. This fucker snaked all over the room -- up, down, everywhere you look. And there was the biggest pig I’ve ever seen in my life…”

“Wait, what?” Jennie says, breaking our trance.

“I’m not kidding you. I’m not talking about a cop with a bad haircut either. I’m talking a real sow. I think they had it to eat people.”

I’ve had enough and stand up. My legs are slightly wobbly and I sit back down. Jennie throws me a look but I ignore it.

“What the hell is the point of this story?” I shout over the music.

“You wanted to know a fun fact about me.”

“I meant something like if you were left-handed or, I don’t know, you ordered a Starbucks behind Shaq once.”

The three of them stare at me in silence.

“I thought it was getting pretty juicy,” says hanger-on and shrugs his shoulders.

“Thanks man,” Jeff says. “It gets even wilder…

I’m going crazy. This dude is off his damn rocker. 

“I want pizza and I want to dance and I don’t care who comes with me,” I say and grab my purse. 

“OMG! Who wants to go to Beauty Bar?” shrieks Jennie. She looks at her new friend and he eagerly nods his head. The end of Jeff’s story will have to wait.

“I’ll get a car,” he says and pulls out a phone. “Crap, the closest car is seven minutes away.”

“Perfect,” says hanger-on. “Tell us more about this killer pig. Did it have a name?”

I look down at my drink. It’s still half full but I don’t care. Suddenly I’m beyond tired. I get up again and start walking for the door.

“Sweetie, wait!” Jennie calls across the table but doesn’t get up. I keep walking. The bus stop is one block away and a Rapid is approaching. I get on without thinking. It’s going the opposite direction of the dance floor, but I don’t care. Jennie can have her night. I just want to go home. 

So I do.