One of the great things about being my age is that I know myself pretty well. Also, I know that some things many think are important really are not.  Like putting up with people who don’t contribute positively to my life.  Because I know now what that means.

It means if someone hurts me more than s/he helps me s/he’s probably not worth my time or my energy.  No, I do not keep scorecards on my friends, but I do know that it’s not worth the heartache and turmoil to be around people who make me feel like shit – about myself or them.  I will never seriously say, “My douche bag boyfriend …” because I will not have someone I call a friend – boy- or otherwise – treat me in such a way that I want to call him a douche bag.

Not so Tammy, a very cute, very sweet, very naive, and very young lady I recently met.  Ruby asked me to join her for some drinks at Latin American Club.  She was there with a friend who had clearly started drinking much earlier, though she was not drinking the Latin American Club’s infamous margaritas.  And neither was I, since I didn’t even know about their infamous margaritas.  The next time I go I will definitely get a margarita or two.

Ruby’s friend suggested I meet a guy with whom she’d hook me up.  Ok, what’s his number?  She said I could only have his number if I was “ready to settle down.”  Uh, no, I am most definitely not ready to settle down, I’d like to fuck, please.  She said she couldn’t let him get his heart broken like that so I’d not get his number.  I told her that just because someone doesn’t want to settle down does not mean that hearts will be broken so long as everyone is honest with each other.

She was not listening.  She had had quite a bit to drink.  And she had gone on to how great her boyfriend was.  Yes, I agreed when she showed me a photo on her phone, he was very cute.  Yes, they did make a nice couple.  Frankly, I didn’t give a fuck about her boyfriend, and talking about how great his cock was was getting a little old.

Then we all met Tammy.  Tammy was at Latin American Club while her boyfriend was across the street at at a class at the Mission Campus of San Francisco City College.  Tammy was waiting for him because he asked her to do so.  At one point Tammy left, and we assumed she and the boyfriend had met up and made their way home.

However, Tammy returned.  She told us that her “douche bag boyfriend,” though he had asked her to wait for him, “forgot” that she was waiting and left without her.  Wow, what consideration.  Tammy told us more.  She had recently turned 21.  She and the boyfriend had been together for three years.  She had moved directly from her parents’ home in with him.  She was trying to move out on her own.

Oh, Tammy.  Of course I went into I’ve-been-through-it-and-trust-me-you’ll-look-back-and-realize-it-wasn’t-worth-it mode.  She claimed she was trying to get free of the boyfriend and wanted to be more independent.  I told her that she didn’t deserve to be disregarded by someone who claimed to love her.  I said a bunch of other stuff too, and Tammy claimed to understand, but I don’t hold out much hope for Tammy.

I left soon thereafter, as I preferred to spend my time with someone I’ve no interest in calling a douche bag rather than waste my breath on a sad girl who may or may not eventually learn that she doesn’t have to be miserable.

I swear.  True story.

Tags: idiot, SF love, words count

Categories: moron, True Story.

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