God, it’s such a thing to wake up so early in the morning just because…But it’s ok.  Nice morning, as far as I can tell.  There are things that just make me chuckle.  It’s not about who or what I want more, it’s all about all the squatters who push their infernal tents in my mental yard.  Fuckin’ hippies.  I’m still full from a night spent at GRAZIE! eating Chicken Parmesean, and drinking free wine because the server used to have the hots for my friend who I was eating out with. I got to bed at a decent time, and that was a welcome thing, I swear…

“I Am The Past Come Back To Haunt You, Lo Pan!!!”

Why do they come back, why do they always seem to come back, especially when you don’t want shit to do with them?  I mean over the weekend, I had the most bizarre episode with Marie, and now, at 1:26 am this morning, Tiffany #2 attempted to push her way back into my life, especially when I did so well excising her.

‘S not that big of a deal though, hell, I thought it was cute.  Anyone who has read me for any period of time know that I have a long torrid history with women named Tiffany.  I never quite got it, I mean, how many Tiffanies are enough, do I call them Tiffanies or Tiffani (to the infinite power)?  Well, however you do it, they all seem to plague my life after making a half assed attempt to bless it.

So for the record, this is the Tiffany who lived here in Bloomington last year, the girl who I went out with wasted on ‘shrooms and came back to her place afterwards and had a crisis in her bathroom as I had to take a poop, but didn’t want to, god, I need to link that post, because it was a good one, one of those nights in my life that had to be a rip-off of a demented Blake Edwards/Farrely Bros. film.

But I digress…This Tiffany is currently safely tucked away in our nation’s capitol, earning her Ph D in child development or some damn thing at Howard University, in other words, she is out of my life, and I was ok with that, hell, I even erased her name and number from my phone one sweltering summer afternoon as I sat in my car while on a lunch break.  I said goodbye because she needed saying goodbye to.  Too much bullshit and potential heartbreak served up by her, nothing at all worth holding on to.  I said goodbye, and damn it, I was pleased.

So anyway, I’m sleepin like a fucking angel.  I mean knocked out to the Nth degree, and it’s good, because the old man needs his rest from time to time.  I get up, like many old men, older than me, to go and take that 3am piss.  I get back in bed and I see that my redlight is blinking on my phone, meaning that someone actually called.  I figured it was the person I had been speaking to earlier, the one who put me to sleep, not by fault, but by grace. 

It wasn’t her.  It was a Fort Wayne cell phone number. 

Needless to say, I was perplexed.  Who would be calling from home at 1:26am?  Luckily, there was a voicemail to tell the tale…

“Hashim…it’s Tiff.  Give me a call back.  Alright…bye.”

I just laid back down and laughed.  I laughed because she had the nerve to bother me while I was doing so spectacularly on my own, finally free of her sugar sweet tyranny, free of having to deal with the bullshit of a life that never seemed to be on the same track as my own.  What daring, what outrageousness! Oh well…

It didn’t take me long to get back to sleep after that.  I laughed a little more because of course she called at 1 in the morning, which is her M.O., seeing as she never called me until late, late at night, which would have been fine back then if they were booty calls, I mean that would have been cool, but no…not with this one.  Usually she called to plague me and be a parasite on my life at 2 or 3 in the morning.  I mean who the fuck wants to have a heart to heart at 2:30 in the morning, especially after suceeding in finally getting to sleep.

The girl’s requests have always been both bizarre and inane.  The chick was always somewhat sharper than me, and that was probably because I became so dulled by her, I had no defenses.  But as they say, fuck it, because I did what I had to do because I had to do it…for me.

So is Tiffany going to get her return call?  Probably not, and let me tell you…I feel pretty good saying it.  Those hooks are out of my back, and by god…they will never return.

Why is it that all my exes are not unlike a Supervillain Rogues Gallery instead of just simple silly twists?  I guess everything has to be a little less than normal…

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3 responses

  1. A girl sharper than you? Imagine that.
    My chicken parmesan is better.

    October 6, 2004 at 9:56 am

  2. Well isn’t it odd to get those random calls from ex’s.  I absolutely LOVE the natural high I get when I KNOW I don’t call them back!  It almost feels like a sweet revenge after all the torment they’ve put me though.  Almost as if I’ve finally won the battle, that I am on their minds long after I’ve blocked them out of my head.
    YOU HAVE to link to that post, it sounds hilarious!

    October 6, 2004 at 1:18 pm

  3. I got a call from a ex this weekend too. I don’t have his number to call him back. I loved him dearly but I had to break up with him. I guess we are better off with out them.
    I agree with miss kitty – I want a link to that post!

    October 6, 2004 at 3:55 pm

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