***This is drunk me, I’m not going to edit this.***
Alright so first off, I’m drunk…still. Absinthe is amazing in every way and I’m definitely going to be stocking my residence with this green (sometimes brown and sometimes clear) magical liquid. One of a few alcohols that’s not a depressant, (LIKE MY LIFE) go figure. It heightens the sense and all that shit. I felt it. Alas, this is a blog about relationships of all forms and sometimes logical lessons to be learned from these interactions so allow me to be as candid as possible.
The real question of the night was if I was truly of Smart Pants and our 3-week encounter. And I’ll proudly say yes. I had 0 feelings or anything of that nature, sober and otherwise, during my stint with my lovely crew of human beings. It feels good when you’re right man. The absinthe class itself, my fucking word, what an experience in every sense of the word friends. My boy Teddy really hit it out of the park with his knowledge, candid nature, and just being a down-to-earth mother fucker. God damn I love that man. What a stand-up human being, seriously. The tangents about the bands he worked with, meeting Tim Burton, and whatnot PLUS his baller-ass tattoo I mean really. Dude is a fucking prodigy, hands down. I don’t give a shit about what anyone says. Fuck whoever gave a scathing review of him being too “personable.” Fucking prude, you can eat a bag of dicks. Teddy is the shit.
Back to me and my feelings, so I was fine the entire time honestly with SP. I was coolin’ the whole night. It was kind of funny because it was like somebody just flipped a switch or some shit. So weird to be perfectly fine after pining over this woman for a couple weeks. More platonic than a 3rd-degree friend-zoned person I’ve know since middle school. Like damn. I was vibing with everyone and it was all good. SP did mention that I should fuck with one of her friends and I wasn’t 100% on that as that just seemed kinda weird in general. I’m not one to run through the whole team like that. If it happens, it happens, but I’m not really looking for something of that caliber just yet.
I was curious though, I can’t lie. The absinthe class turns into a full tour of the beautiful Whitney Mansion out here in Detroit (amazing). If you ever find yourself in the area, fucking go dude. Literally the most epic historical experience I’ve had ever. So great. But I digress. The tour ends and we’re planning on dipping out to the place SP’s friend mentioned (she wore the lion onesie and set SP and I up). All the while I’m trying to figure out if SP’s brother his friend are fucking because they’re awful close and giggling and shit with one another. That could just be the perv in me talking, but I know a connection when I see one damnit.
Apparently everybody out here breaking up and shit, which is unfortunate in a certain light, but damn. Ain’t even the summer yet. Come on people get with the fucking program. Back to this absinthe class though. You talk about elegance? Bro, this fucking thing. Dog, I was drinking out of a $120 dollar glass from a $1500 water dispenser with more than $100 dollar’s worth of absinthe (3 kinds mannnnnnnn). For fucking $25. You kidding me? The average shitbag college bro probably spends twice that on a night out trying to get some ass. What an experience. Meanwhile, the Lioness and I are shooting the shit and ragging on random things because we had that trolling connection, which was great mind you. I’m thinking “Huh, this girl’s pretty chill and funny.”
In the middle of the grand tour by the way, The Lioness dips out to secure tables for our next spot for bingo night, super nice of her. What a stand-up feline lady-person. Although I did sense something a bit off about her abrupt departure from our merry band of cool kids. I dismissed it as me being drunk, but absinthe heightens the sense, rather than depressing them. Clearly, I was onto something. That something, I would later find out, would be me nope’ing the fuck out of any attempt to get at The Lioness (and for good reason).
We’re end the tour, not before befriending my boy Teddy, best tour guide and absinthe professor in the North American region, and head out to where The Lioness had saved out seats and shit. We walk in and she’s sitting next to some guy we’ll later know as the homie Big Quirk. Obviously a black dude, I decide to use my blackness to connect with him. Great and funny guy through and through. I do notice The Lioness is real hugged up on this dude and they’re getting real familiar with it. Mind, bingo is starting and I’m paired up with SP, no big deal. It’s all underway right and I shoot the shit with another of SP’s friends, the one I was supposed to do archery with, and I confess I ditched it. Turns out it was alright because they didn’t do rentals, although I could have used her and her family’s bow stuff. How nice of her.
I live down the street (walking distance) of a rock climbing gym and I get invited by SP’s other friend to join. Never rock climbed in my life, but a hall-mate of mine 10 years ago said I’d be good at it because I got long limbs and shit. Fuck it. I’ll try just about anything once. A great gesture honestly. Looking forward to climb colorful man-made stepping stones honestly. Back on topic, we enter this bar for bingo; Big Quirk and the Lioness were definitely boo’d up and I took no offense. Live your life fam. But it solidified to me to keep my engagements casual.
I’m truly a complicated piece of shit at the end of the day. I can get really moody, dismissive, and downright apathetic. At the same token, I will be #1 cheerleader, friend, and lover if given the chance. But I don’t want to burden anyone with my madness that isn’t really madness. I let people live no matter what. I have no bearing over their lives and whatever they do is whatever they do. Free will is a thing I respect and embrace. For me there’s a well of affection, love, and whatever else you want to call this mushy shit that grows over time.
If given the opportunity, my first impulse is to let it drown whoever is giving me that time of day. Then I realize “Hey, maybe you want to trickle that down my boy. Smothering can kill most people.” Then it turns in to a punctuated, watered down scenario so as not scare potentially love interests away, that sometimes backfires as me being “not passionate enough.” Either I’m too interested or not interested enough. What a life.
Long story short, after bingo, SP and her archery/rock climbing friend dip. Her brother and his friend disappear without saying a word to me (FINE). I wasn’t trippin. They were gonna cut the night short anyway. Everyone’s gone except me and I realize that I’m not about that 3rd wheeling life so I dip as well. I give The Lioness a hug and then kind of look around for a bit, familiarizing myself with my bar surroundings so I don’t forget. I’m still tipsy as shit too.
I go to say bye to Big Quirk as he goes in to make out with The Lioness. Awkward as fuck. He’s chill about it, gives me a pound and continues where they left off. Face fucking each other with their lips. Romance isn’t dead. I take that as my queue to get the fuck out. I’m not about that rebound life and I never will be. I won’t know someone trying to feel good about shitty situations, but not on my dime fam. Miss me with thatttt.
I drive home tipsy after a cheeky Instagram video about a sign that says “Everything is going to be okay.” And it wasn’t wrong at the core. Everything ended up being okay with this ridiculous move across the country. I end up drinking my last cider because I paid for it and why not keep the buzz going? I sometimes wonder how things would be if I were more reckless with my heart. Then I remember I been there, done that. I say I’m a mess, but that’s not even true anymore. The irony is that I’m more secure in my life than I’ve ever been. Is this what happens when you’re just sure about shit? Probably. What a weird-ass feeling.