Anne swears it wasn't stupid though and she's proud of me for doing. She actually encouraged me to do it.
I called Jonathan. Yes, a drunken phone call. We can all see where this is going, right? Nowhere good, Thatís for certain.
I called because Erica, brother's girlfriend who also knows Jonathan, came to the bar last night and started telling me about how Jonathan's roommate was saying that he played me, that he was talking shit about me, that I'm just some kind of joke. Apparently Jonathan likes to fuck girls and then never speak to them again. Well, normally, I would think about it rationally, but I was fucking blitzed last night. So, I called him at 2 in the a.m. He of course didn't answer, so I left this message:
Hey, Jonathan, this is Mary. I was just wondering if you were just planning on sleeping with me and then never talking to me again, because if so, that's cool. I just wan to know so I won't have to wonder about it anymore. Just let me know! Talk to you later!
It seemed like a superb idea at the time. I, of course, was so drunk that I've managed to convince myself that I didn't really call him, that it was all a bad Jagermeister induced hallucination.
Oh well. I'm not too worried about it. I can do better than Jonathan.
My favourite bartender, Brandon, had some problems last night. He actually had a lot of problems the other night too. Fighting with his girlfriend on the phone instead of bartending. But last night, I don't know what happened. I was sitting in the back talking to this guy, Flea, that I used to work with, when I see Brandon just walk out. He had his hands in his hoodie, kinda looking at the ground, and he just walked out. They hadn't even given last call yet. And what freaked me out even more is what to do about my tab. Brandon never takes a credit card from me because I'm a regular and he never charges me for everything anyway. So, Brandon's gone and the owner's behind the bar finishing out and I don't want to ask him to cash me out because I don't even think there's a record of what I ordered and that may get Brandon in even more trouble. So Anne asked Alex what to do (he was running sound, not bartending) and he said not to worry about it, just to leave. So I didn't have to pay what would have been a $50 tab last night. I'm contemplating going down there tonight to see if Brandon's working and talk to him about it. And to see if he's ok. Because I almost did another stupid thing last night. I almost said to Brandon:
I don't know you very well. I hardly know you at all actually, but I think I have a good sense of who you are and I think you're an amazing person. You seem so genuine and sweet and I see you down here always fighting with your girl or getting shit on by someone and it kills me inside. I love to see you when you're happy and lately you haven't seemed happy. If I ever get the chance, and I would love to have the chance, I'd make you as happy as I possibly can because for some reason I think you deserve it. Keep smiling darling, because there's at least one person here who's thinking about you.
Could you imagine if I'd said all that? Holy crap. I don't think there's be anyway to convince myself that didn't happen. IT is how I feel though, and I would love to be able to tell him that.
Shit. I've got to go to work.