Yesterday was a productive day. I went running in the afternoon, then to the mall for some spring attire (two boob shirts and a pair of capris pants). Dave text me that he was heading to Happy Tuesday, so I went to meet him. I drove all the way there, from Meriden to Plainville and pulled into the bar’s parking lot. I checked my phone for any missed text’s and saw that Dave text me. His new live-in girlfriend was going to be there.
I sat in the parking lot debating on whether or not to go in. My new boob shirts lay folded nicely in their bags. I wanted to take one out and slip it on. I was wearing my old long sleeve t-shirt with my blue jeans. Nothing special. Nothing sexy.
He was all over me two weeks ago. I didn’t go home with him or anything, but I was sitting on his lap at the bar and let him whisper in my ear. It’s painful for me to switch from being the cuddly ex-girlfriend to the insignificant other woman.
I decided to go in. As I walk in, I get a glass pushed into my hand, another guy pouring beer into it and the rest of the crew singing the “Hurray for Melanie” song. So far so good. Nothing has changed. Then his girl shows up. Heather, 35, hairdresser. Dave thought it was a bad idea to sit next to me, so he shot up out of his stool.
I felt fine, but everyone started giving me hugs to console me. Even the bartender gave me a ‘you-poor-thing’ look. I loved the attention. Being consoled is my new favorite thing. It’s a more comforting form of pity. This one guy kept saying, “We love Melanie,” as he put his big heavy arm around me.
Dave, Heather and I go out for a cigarette.
“So let me get something straight, cause I’m an honest woman, I like to lay things on the table out in the open and get the elephant out of the room. You two used to date and I’m okay with that.”
She was obviously not okay. Every ten minutes she would tell me how ‘okay’ she was with Dave and I being friends.
“Well I don’t see him often. The last time we saw each other was two weeks ago.”
“Oh really, I didn’t know that. He didn’t tell me that.” She looks at Dave with what appeared to be an evil eye.
“Oops, I must have forgot.” Dave looks at the ground.
Then she starts telling me about her conversation with Christine. Christine is a relative to a few members of our crew and started coming out every Tuesday to kick back and have fun. Sure she can have an annoying way about her, but we all accept her.
Heather – “You know Christine? Well, she was here last week and I never met her before in my life. She come’s up to me and she says, ‘If I tell you how old I am, can you tell me that I look amazing for my age?’ And I say, ‘How old are you?’ She tells me she’s 31 and I just look at her and say, ‘well I’m 35 and honey, I look a hell of a lot better than you do.’
“You really said that?” I was shocked. Succumbed with an unfathomable dislike for this woman. Not only that, but she’s the one who looks horrible for her age. She’s over-weight, has short hair like a boy, dark leathery skin and a shit load of makeup to cover everything up. Now she’s telling me she’s not even pretty on the inside.
“Yeah, she really said it. I was standing right here. I’m a witness.” Dave had a huge grin on his face. I wanted to slap it off.
Heather added, “She didn’t know what to say, so she said ‘I don’t know how to respond to that.'” She starts giggling.
“Wow, I had no idea Christine was 31. She really does look good.” I take a drag of my cigarette. “I thought she was 25.”
“Yeah maybe from the way she carries herself.”
I just stand there listening to her talk some more. I’m dumbfounded at this point. I don’t say much to begin with, but when I’m confronted with a person I can’t relate to, I become even more speechless. And now I know why Christine didn’t show up this week.
I had a steady half-smile on my face, and one hand in my pocket. My demeanor was far from threatening, but Heather seemed to get more and more heated. Was my stupid half-smile taken for arrogance?
She says, “I’m the type of person who don’t care what people think. I say how I feel.” Yeah, no kidding.
She looks me straight in the eye and says, “You either like me or you don’t.” Then Dave put his arm around her and sat snug next to her. She touched his face and put her hand on his leg.
I feel dumb at this point. My mouth hangs open. I have an expression of what a cow looks like if he just chewed up something foul and didn’t know what to do with the crap in its mouth.
I wonder how I ever dated a guy like this in the first place? A guy who would love someone so repugnant. Than I wonder if I’m repugnant, and maybe that’s what he likes.
I go back into the bar and sit next to the one remaining Happy Tuesday man. The rest of the crew bailed early. He starts making fun of Heather by saying how ugly and old she is. Even with my profound dislike for her, I can’t bring myself to talk shit about her. I just smiled at him and bobbed my head. It turns out that nobody likes her.
Dave and Heather come back from outside and sit next to us. I start thinking to myself that maybe Heather is lost and needs someone just like I did over the summer. Someone to love her and tell her she’s beautiful. My turn is over and now it’s her turn to feel better. Maybe Dave really is an angel. I soften a little toward him.
He text me as soon as I got home: So u think she’s ok? talkin shit?letme know.
I text back: If she makes you happy, then I’m happy, too. See you next Tuesday.
Dave: For now yes mam (he can’t spell)
Dave: it’s 2 good
I don’t know what the last part means. What’s 2 good? She’s probably a freak in bed.
He dated her for two months without my knowing and tried to hook up with me during that whole time. I’m so glad I kept turning him down. Now it’s always going to be a firm solid “Not now, not ever.”