The night I got mistaken for a bar girl.

For the first time in my life yesterday, I had ONE beer then a milkshake while my friend drank like a sailor. Never in my life have I turned down alcohol. All because I was driving.

Now, I wouldn’t say I’m a good driver, and no, it’s not because I’m a woman. I have some night blindness so my vision goes wayyyyy down after dusk. Plus, I’m not sure what kind of impact alcohol will have on me on the roads, so I decided to exercise some form of responsibility. To the other road users than myself.

So today, I met up with sailor friend K again for dinner and drinks. Between us, we polished a tower and a jug of beer. Then we chatted about life. Like how all drunkards want to discuss serious shit when they’re inebriated. We normally talk shit and the only serious topic that comes up is deciding where to go for supper.

Not sure how the topic led to X, but it just happened. Just like how two intoxicated people find themselves naked in bed the morning after without knowing how it happened.

K thinks the excuses X gives me are bollocks. Yes he might be busy, but does he not even have time for a quick meal? Yes, he’s tied up with work and school, but is that where his priorities lie?

K said if he’s interested yet always puts me in second, third or even fourth place, then I can be prepared to be accustomed to such a life even if he decides I’m the one for him.

She has met him, and thinks that he’s not a bad person per se, but still advises me to move on because she feels he’s not good enough. I’m torn. I’m the kind of person who likes a challenge, and the more you ask me not to do something, all the more I will want to do it to prove you otherwise.

X has clearly, on more than one occasion told me he can only start seeing me in May, and K thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to wean myself off him. She’s asking me why I get to see him only on his terms. I don’t know. I’m torn. As torn as asking me to choose between Johnny Depp and George Clooney.

The problem is, he is good enough. And I like him. But I can’t say K is wrong either. Why? Why must things be ever so complicated? What happened to the good old days of boy likes girl, girl likes boy, let’s have wild and amazing sex and we’ll live happily ever after?

I really feel stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. Funny how my mind is so much clearer when I have alcohol coursing through my veins.

You. You who have been reading my posts, please enlighten me. I’m hungry yet sleepy. Should I cook supper or just go to bed? Should I continue waiting for X or should I walk away? TELL ME.

And…. Cheesepie to the taxi uncle who picked me up earlier. The first thing he said to me after I climbed in was “Wah…. It’s 2 o’clock. You worked so late?”. Fuck you understand.

Just because it looked like I just emerged from the bushes (because the drinking hole was up the hill and away from the main roads) doesn’t mean I’m a bar girl ok. Can’t a young, hot (only in my shameless mind), single female show some cleavage on a Saturday night without being mistaken for a prostitute??!?!?!

The whole world and her mother are giving me grief. What the hell did I do to deserve all these?! Fuck off, world and her mother.

Now, what would you do if you were in my fabulous shoes?

xoxoxoxo.

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