At the beginning of last year, I went to Tiger Tiger for the first time. That, however, is not what this blog post is about [long story short: I hate the place]. But I went there with my high school ex, The Sweetheart, who also happens to be my best friend’s brother [rookie error; I know. NEVER AGAIN]. I broke up with him in 2006 and the next 18 months were spent with him landing up in hospital for alcohol poisoning, failing most of his subjects at varsity and me randomly receiving text messages from him at all hours with detailed descriptions of what a terrible person I am, and what he wished would happen to me. It was fairly traumatising, thus I was fairly happy when we finally made peace, and to keep said peace I agreed to go with him to Tiger.
The Sweetheart had just broken up with his girlfriend post me [let’s call her Crazy]. She was in residence at varsity with another BFF of mine, and was desperate to get some dirt on me every day of her life. Sad, really. And she did not take the break up very well. So when Crazy saw us at Tiger, she went fairly mental. She basically attacked us, and two of Sweetheart’s friends had to pick her up and drag her away while Sweetheart and I made a run for it. At this point I was quite over the legal drinking/driving limit, so Sweetheart suggested I crash at his place instead, and drive to work the next morning. Perfect plan!
Oh no. Crazy turns up at Sweetheart’s house at 3am, bangs the door down and proceeds to curse him [and me] right into whichever miserable life is next for us. I would have gone out there to explain to her just how absolutely and entirely OUT of the picture I was, but I was scared that Crazy would cut my throat open or throw a microwave at me or something. Anyway, she left, eventually. I am too little to deal with angry people who are bigger than me [which is pretty much everyone]. I escaped unscathed but for bleeding ears from such profanity escaping a little girl’s mouth! Yoh.
So, in Cape Town, I see Sweetheart again. A year and a half later I am even more completely and entirely out of the picture, and he has a new girlfriend. I meet her, the whole lot of us party together in Mercury, we’re drinking champagne straight from the bottle, everything is peachy. Later [much, much later] at Shack, I am sitting down with The Nazi, Margs and Chris [my favourite new toy], when Sweetheart sits down next to me. After conversation around how the party is, I asked how he is in general, which turns to ‘How are things going with the girl?’ My answer: ‘ Swimmingly, until YOU arrived.’
Turns out all I have to do is EXIST, and every girl freaking hates me. This is but a short tale of the many, many times this has happened, with numerous girls and numerous ex boyfriends. I have been stalked, cursed, hated and slated by any girl who has ever come near any guy I have ever gone near to.
Lesson: Jealousy makes you VERY nasty. Also insecure, irrational, rude, aggressive and unnecessarily potty-mouthed. Also fat.
Well, one can only hope.