Filed under: diary
I go over to my sister Hillary’s place to whine and mope. She knows from this blog about my trouble with Karen. But when I get there, Hillary insists that we go out for drinks instead of wallow. She drags me to El Torito for happy hour, and on the way, makes me promise that for tonight we pretend awful slutty Karen does not exist. We’ll go to the bar, have fun, and be available to possibility. I should have known Hillary was up to something.
We get to El Torito, and guess who else “just happens” to be there, but Hillary’s female coworkers, including Amy, the girl Hillary insists is perfect for me. Awkward! You may not realize this, but I don’t do well with this much estrogen. Women kind of terrify me, frankly. So I excused myself to go to the bathroom, where I’m sitting right now in the stall trying to figure out what to do.
I know what the old Joel would have done: Run back to Karen… But, at least for tonight, that Joel doesn’t exist either. I’m not gonna take it. ANYMOOOOOORE.
(Oh, but I’m definitely calling Skylar to join us. I need backup.)
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