Over the weekend I took a big girl pill. Seriously I swallowed that bad boy whole with no chaser…wait that’s a drinking analogy…you will get where I’m going shortly. So if you remember on Thursday the electricity mysteriously went out in my apartment. Unknown to me at the time, it was a total power outage on the block so I sauntered into work on one of the higher levels of pissed-off-ness. In particular because my lovely landlord didn’t feel it necessary to return my frantic calls, biotch!In any event by mid morning (10AM) the problem was solved. I wanted to check my produce, you know just give them the once over to make sure they were still in fact fit for consumption. The Little Brother was under the weather so I needed to bee-line it home because he was in no state to sub for me. Insert The Spaniard stage left. Of late, I have been doing the slow fade, sort of well you know my issue. Anywho I ask him to give me a lift to my apartment after my webinar midday. He agrees with little coercion. This should have been the sign.
When he picks me up he asks if I need to go straight home. Considering my pit stop in the middle of his day I said that I was perfectly fine to make a quick run with him before he carried me home, I mean it was the least I could do. As we pulled up outside of the lawyers office The Spaniard said that he was dropping some papers off and needed to speak with the attorney about his mother’s visa.
Once inside the office I take a seat in the waiting room, you know how I feel about the mother situation, and I didn’t feel there was a need for me to be present while he spoke with the lawyer. Instead of letting me sit and chit chat with the receptionist he insists that I join him in the conference room. Why not, I go in, take a seat and only half listen while he and the attorney converse about this and that.
Attorney: This section is N/A, correct?
The Spaniard: What section, what are the questions?
Attorney: Marital status, date of wedding, spouses name etc etc etc.
(At this point my ears perk up a bit as I sense some hesitation in The Spaniard’s voice.)
The Spaniard: Uh, well no. I am married.
Now if I were a different person the bottlenecking, eye rolling WTFs would have started but that ain’t my way. As I mentioned I don’t go there. I did however turn toward him with a look just short of if I had a bat I would club you. Clearly the attorney has seen this look before. Not to mention he had that she’s a nicely dressed whore glint in his eye.
Attorney: Oh I see…well if you and she need to talk, I don’t know what kind of relationship you two (pointing at me) have…
Me: We (pointing at myself and The Spaniard) don’t have anything to talk about, we don’t have a relationship. (I believe I said that calmly although I imagine the tone was rather curt.)
The Spaniard did a half turn toward me but I guess me mouthing don’t say shit too me cued him that it was probably best to finish his dealings because clearly this wasn’t the time nor the place to discuss this matter.
Ironically around about this time I presumed the camera crew with overly hair gel host would jump from behind a fichus and scream something cliché like tell her what’s she’s won for participating Johnny…oddly enough it didn’t happen.
After dotting some more i’s and crossing t’s we walked out of the office. Immediately he began with the explanation which I just didn’t want or need to hear. I said completely emotionless as I’d already detached myself from the situation during the walk downstairs that he needed to take me home. No I didn’t want to hear about his on paper marriage, how it was just to get his citizenship and he was gonna tell me when the time was right, and the look at me when I’m telling you this, princessa por favor crap….just take me home before I get out and catch a cab.
Most days I hate driving in silence but somehow it felt oh so appropriate. So big girl pill swallowed, sometimes those signs of God really sting.
And that would make it official folks, The Spaniard sailed off the island, no life jacket and no preserver never to be seen or heard of again. If I speak his name or mention him I want someone to smack the eff’n taste out of my mouth, literally!
What a way to start the weekend, right. So how about Sunday, yes we bowled to victory yet again. We are now standing as the team to beat. I say shirts are in order. Granted this is a novice league and I guess getting a trophy in a novice league is tantamount to winning honorable mention at the science fair but I take winning where I can. And really we are relatively decent to be beginners.
While bowling it up, 21 Jump Street saunters into the alley. Nurse Friend spied him from the corner of her eye as he sat on the bench waiting patiently for who I presume was his date. Was I wrong for walking up and saying hi? Was I wrong for thinking (and laughing with my friends) that his date isn’t as cute as me? OK I wasn’t wrong I was petty, high school making fun of the misunderstood rejects petty. I admit it. It was juvenile and stupid but in my defense my weekend was pretty shitty and I needed a pick me up.
I caught him staring at me during his frames….alas he is already off the island.
So by mid-summer it appears The Spaniard forfeit the game leaving Mailroom Boy a clear opening to slide home and take the glory…but wait is there someone looming in the background to pick up where The Spaniard left off……
6 Pardon My French:
Who needs TV soap operas? I've got you!!!! ;-)
Quarter life crisis is right! I am so glad the Spaniard was caught in his nice little web of lies. You go girl!
I love this blog so much. The writing is pithy and the stories so interesting. Yeah That Spaniard bogusness is unacceptable. Love the interior monologue about the candid camera crew. That is exactly how it would go down too. But the saga continues...
I will be following along.
"The Spaniard: Uh, well no. I am married."
Ok, you clearly are really nice, cool, calm & collected. Cause as sooan as I heard that line, I would have walked out...
I was in a similar situation a few years ago, it didn't go past the first day, but hombre had a bun & the oven and a ring on someone else's finger...he got caught in his lie over the phone...I told him to jump out a plane, without a parachute
Hope the looming in the cooridor guy is promising :)
@Reforming, at times I think this is the All Faith's Children or As the Faith Turns...sadly I am not paid the big bucks though.
@Ettarose, Thx I am glad it's out there and in the open for me to see it...I don't know how long I would have still been spinning on his wheel.
@Mr. Nichols, I appreciate the support...yes the saga continues but I am going forward with open eyes.
@Diva, I have my moments when I am just that nice....partly I reacted or didn't react because this man (lawyer) already was giving me the sideways eye. In his opinion I was a whore no sense in making it a crazy whore. I know I know other people's opinion's shouldn't matter but in that moment it just felt like the better move was to remain composed. Spainard got a lil bit of a mouthful in the car but at the end of the day I think I needed this rude abrupt awakening to finally get him out of my system.
Don't mind that coughing and sputtering. It's just because I caught at least five flies while my mouth hung open after learning the Spaniard is married.
What to the The to the F! That caught me like a blow to the head. I'm surprised. I did not see that coming.
But it kind of solves that story line, doesn't it.
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