I spend entirely too much time contemplating what makes people do the things that they do. This weekend inevitably ended up being the perfect example of why some women give other women a bad name. I’ll explain.
After a handful of trying and otherwise relationship-taxing weekend, this weekend was meant for me and the boy… mostly alone, but mostly to just enjoy the fact that just because we have a title doesn’t mean we can’t go out on… *gasp* dates! The original plan was to spend the night in San Francisco, taking him to some of my favorite places (Japan Center, Fisherman’s Wharf, possibly Chinatown, and I was told about this pizza place on Haight). He wanted to get away. I wanted us to get away there. I love the city. I love big cities. I miss Los Angeles more than anyone would ever be able to know, or comprehend. So being in San Francisco is like having a little bit of my small town, with a whole lot of my big city, and sharing that part of my life with the person I love is an amazing experience. I haven’t had much of it since I’ve moved back here. There were also a lot of San Francisco trips with friends while me and the boy were first talking.
We went to see Pineapple Express on Friday night with one of his roommates and mate. It was a pretty funny movie. But as with all movies of that kind, it’s much funnier the first half when there’s very little point or plot. Trying to tie together all the elements makes for a shoddy and unfunny second half. The boy paid, which is fine. I don’t have a crazy feminist inside who says he can’t pay for a movie, but knowing that he’s not working makes me feel bad when he does things like that.
Saturday morning we went out to breakfast. It was on the way back to his place that he thought going to San Francisco might not be a good idea. I was so excited to go. I had my heart set on it, so I suggested we just go, but not stay the night. Make it a day trip instead.
Someone forgot to inform us that it was going to be FREEZING in the middle of the summer in the bay area. We had clam chowder in a bread bowl. We walked around and took cute pictures (which I will post as soon as I can).
It was Saturday night that the fun begins, and will be the main focus.
One of the boy’s roommates, hmm… what shall I name him… Ha! Garnier (as in the hair product, yes). So Garnier decided to bring home a girl. Good for him. We all need to get laid now and again, and what’s the harm in a little unattached fun?!? Not much. I’ve had my fair share, sure.
So well, when he brings her home, me and the boy had already been sleeping for a few hours, because the motorcycle ride to and from San Francisco exhausted us. They came tromping up the stairs, and Garnier’s a little deaf, so his music was a tad louder than it needed to be at 2 am. The boy got up and asked if he could kindly turn it down a tad. Garnier did. Then the girl starts giggling and being obnoxious. Eh, whatever. I fall back asleep.
It was around 4-ish am when it began. It wasn’t just the sound of two people having sex. It’s the sound of an inconsiderate female doing nothing to try to restrain herself. It’s very hard to explain, but because the boy and Garnier share a single wall, and the windows for the bedrooms are on the same side of the house, when the girl decided to stick her face in the screen (I swear, that’s what it sounded like), it was as though they were having sex… right next to us.
I’ve had roommates. I had people have sex in the same room as me. I’ve never had a girl act so disrespectfully before. Oh, it gets better.
During one of their breaks, when I finally thought I’d be able to fall back to sleep, she decided to laugh. Constantly. I could hear Garnier telling her in a hushed whisper to be quiet, but she wasn’t having any of it. She just laughed, and laughed… and laughed. It was not 5:10am. I was tired. She was annoying me. I got up, went to Garnier’s door, and considered knocking and asking her to please shut her fucking laughing hole before I found a way to shut it for her. Okay, I thought about kindly asking them to keep it down a little.
Then reality struck. I didn’t live there. I turned and walked back into the boy’s room. I stood next to the bed, fists clenched as I tried to calm myself down (through more of her laughter, which, mind you, sounds an awful lot like a donkey braying) when the boy woke up and asked if I was okay. I said no. At which point I explained to the boy, and not so kindly, that she was laughing out the window and wouldn’t shut up! He slammed his fist against the wall a few times, and told Garnier to “Shut the fuck up!”
The noise stopped. At around 9 am, I heard movement outside of the boy’s bedroom door. Later I found out that Garnier was ushering her out the door while we (the boy and I) were still asleep. Ha!
Later Sunday, the boy and I found out who it was.
It was even later on Sunday that I was lying on the boy’s stomach, talking to him about the friendship he once had with the girl Garnier invited over. We both came to this conclusion that she was doing it on purpose, the laughing. Not so much because I was there, but in an attempt to get the boy’s attention. She once had a crush on him, big or small I don’t know. During the short hiatus period the boy and I shared, she attempted to… well… have him.
Looking back now, the way that the girl was acting in the other room made sense. I had only met her once at school, long ago (in the VERY early days of the boy and I’s relationship) but even then she had weird ideas of what I thought of her. I had met her once. I had no opinion of her. *blinks*
I dunno. I really don’t. Women… irritate me. Which surprises me that online I have a lot of female friends. For the most part, however, in real life, the females I hang around are similar to me. We all share a hatred of girls. Ha!
I had a point but it’s lost now… on this rant of the loud donkey laugher. And thus… I publish.Filed under it's called life! | Comments (4)