Now that every person all around us owns a computer, there will come a time when our computers will not function the way you expect it to. We have no idea what button we pressed, we have no idea why something isn’t connecting and no clue how to fix it. However, when we do call on our technical support system, one of the first questions you will hear from them is, “Did you reboot or hit the ctr+alt+delete buttons?” It is an act that we all know how to do with our computers but if only life were that easy; that when life just doesn’t seem to work, you are able to hit some buttons and start all over again.
Last week was incredibly busy, I didn’t have one free evening at all but I can’t complain since it was all in the name of fun. It all started off with Monday when I had a date with a guy I had met just a week or so before meeting Mr. G. on Fire Island. Back on our first date, he was tall, handsome and had excellent manners but there was one major thing that I couldn’t get past and it was his breath. It was rather intense, the first time I just chalked it up to him maybe having a bad lunch earlier. So, when last Monday rolled around, we agreed to meet at Posh Bar for happy hour. My dating gut instinct told me that I probably shouldn’t even go on this date because it was only a few days prior that things with Mr. G. and I ended and I was probably still a smidge fragile. I didn’t listen to my instincts and went instead.
I get there and he is already waiting for me inside. We said hello, I grabbed a beer and we began talking. Right off the bat, he went into interrogation mode and asked why I disappeared after our first date. I decided to be honest and told him my reasons why and that we should change the subject. After three beers (which I drank quickly), I wanted to go home. His breath was still rancid (I am guessing he has a small case of halitosis) and once I was done with my beer, I told him that I was on a deadline and needed to get something submitted to my editor. I wasn’t sure if he believed me or not but he insisted on walking me to my corner. When we got onto Ninth Avenue and started heading uptown, he tried to grab my hand and I instantly pulled away. Halitosis or not, I simply didn’t want him touching me and not because I wasn’t attracted to him but I simply wasn’t ready yet to hang out with someone. I knew I just needed a little more time. We got to my corner and he asked me for a kiss and I just couldn’t do it. I gave him a hug instead and by the time I washed my face and brushed my teeth there was a message from him that said, “I can’t read you but I like you and I’d like to give this another try. How does Sunday sound?” I figured it was going to be several days since I would see him again and that maybe time was really just what I needed. Plus, I felt guilty for constantly switching times around on him, so I agreed to the third date.
By the time Friday had rolled around, I realized that I had already had something to drink every single night. Not that it was a bad thing but I had been slacking with my gym routine and I was starting to feel gross…inside and out. That Friday, I left work early and decided to run as many errands as possible because I knew the weekend ahead was going to leave me with no time to even do my laundry. That evening, I was going to a land that I am not too familiar with…The Upper East Side. Friends of mine had moved in together and it was going to be an evening of snacks, booze (of course) and games. I always find it fascinating to see how other couples co-habitat together, especially in New York where most of the time you live in a small area and do your best not to kill each other. This couple seems to have it together and it was just nice to see them, since we don’t get to hangout that often. During the evening, a friend of mine contacted me with upsetting news. The best I could do was to offer him my support the next morning since I didn’t want to be rude and abruptly leave the party. I called it an early night and went home for I knew that my Saturday was going to be a messy one and boy was it ever.
Saturday morning and I got the apartment cleaned and was able to pick-up my friend at his apartment. He was hungover but the only way to cure that situation is to start drinking again, which is exactly what we did at Pounds & Ounces. Over a bottle of wine, he shared his story with me and if there is anything I could do to take it all away for him, I would. If there was a way I could hit some button and start things over, I certainly would do that for him. After our bottle, I had to attend a bar crawl and so we agreed we would meet up again later that night.
That afternoon, I would be attending the first annual, Tater Tot Crawl. Yes, you read that right. One of my best friends decided to find several bars in the Lower East Side/East Village that provides tater tots along with alcohol. I was late showing up but once I got there, I decided to jump into the tater tot festivities. I ate, drank and before I knew it, I looked at my phone and there was several messages from my friends asking me where I was at and what time I would be meeting them. I was hammered, I hadn’t been that drunk in a really long time. The kind of drunk where you can’t walk in a straight line, form a proper sentence or even have the strength to hail a cab. Somehow, a friend from the tater tot crawl, grabbed a cab for me and threw me in it. I gave the driver the cross streets and before I knew it, I was sitting at my friends dinner table and I could barely muster anything that was coherent. I did my best to be “present” there but I was too far gone. Finally, after doing my best to hang with the crowd, I gave in and a friend that lives on the same street as me decided it was time I went home. He made sure that I put my keys in my apartment door and I don’t remember anything else.
Yesterday. Ouch. I was hurting and I was hurting bad. Actually, I was still a little drunk when I woke up and my body hated everything that I done to it the night prior. I had already agreed weeks ago to babysit my dear friend’s fourteen month old son in Brooklyn. I wasn’t about to cancel and I was actually dying to see him, despite my foggy state of mind. As I lay in bed mustering up the strength to get ready, I grabbed my phone and logged onto Facebook.
I flipped through the status of everyone on Facebook and it occurred to me that only a week prior did things go south with Mr. G. then I did something that I NEVER do and that was look up someone’s page. It is just something that never crosses my mind to do but then I did it…I searched for Mr. G. I had defriended him when things ended, mainly because I just simply didn’t want to see the updates. I didn’t stay long on his page and then I clicked off, put the phone back on my nightstand and tried to get five more minutes of sleep. Five minutes go by and the phone buzzes, I grab it and look at the Facebook alert that informed me that Mr. G. had accepted my friend request!!! What the hell did I just do? I didn’t even know what button I clicked on. It was at that moment that I wanted to create some sort of function where I could somehow-someway “ctrl+alt+delete” my way out of stupidity. Another five minutes go by and then his name appears on my screen. He was friendly and his message was thanking me for friend requesting him again. I decided that the best approach would be the brutal truth. I told him that I did the friend request by accident and that it was what it was. There was nothing else left for me to say.
I certainly wasn’t going to defriend him now and I don’t plan on to. We have a great deal of friends in common, he isn’t a bad guy at all and it just wasn’t what I was planning on doing just yet. Never again will I look at Facebook while still technically drunk. I couldn’t focus anymore on the morning events and so I got ready and headed off to Brooklyn to see the baby. When I shut my apartment door, it dawned on me that I had changed bags and that I foolishly left my keys in another bag. It was official. I was locked out of my apartment. Fucking fantastic, not only was my roommate not coming home till after midnight but my super wasn’t answering and I never made keys to give to my friends for dumb ass moments like this. Again, there was nothing I could do and so I got myself to Brooklyn. The minute I saw the baby, everything had washed away. I didn’t care that I screwed up on Facebook, that I was locked out of my apartment or the fact that my third date with the guy that has bad breath was later on that evening. After my babysitting gig was over with, I went back to my apartment with hopes that my super was home to let me in. He wasn’t home and he still wasn’t answering my calls. I went to a diner and had an early dinner and I couldn’t take it anymore so I went back to my apartment and sat on my stoop with my Elle magazine and waited patiently. I could have gone to several friends home but I wanted to be there when the super arrived. Finally I gave in and called a locksmith, the minute I hung up with the locksmith…my super arrives. I canceled the locksmith, got inside my apartment and refreshed myself in order to follow through with the third date.
The date offered me the chance for me to reschedule but it wasn’t an option due to everything I have going on this week. I jumped on the subway and headed toward his apartment. The date was going to consist of us renting a movie and drinking. I opted to not drink based on my binge for the past five days; instead I brought a Snapple. When I arrived and saw him, I felt nothing. No excitement. I told myself that maybe it was the fact that I was tired, hungover and had a really exhausting weekend. I sat on one side of the couch with him on the other. He pulled me closer and most of the time, I love the idea of watching a movie on a couch with someone fantastic but instead it felt wrong. We rented a thriller movie, which for the entire time I hid behind a pillow. As soon as the movie was over with, I was putting my shoes on and he looked surprised. I was more surprised that I was able to last for a two hour movie with the smell of his bad breath. It was now official for me, this wasn’t going to work. If you can’t even think of kissing someone there really is no future for anything else. I was still a bit frazzled from the movie (too scary for me), so I asked him to walk me down to the street until I got in a cab, which he graciously did for me. When I got home, he sent a text message asking me why I left so quickly. It was time to tell him that I wasn’t ready for what he has to offer and that maybe I am just too busy right now for anything more. It was partially true but it was mainly the dragon like breath. He said he understood and I thought that was going to be the last I would hear from him. He sent several more messages asking me if he had done anything wrong, etc. I just wanted to go to bed and finally I just wished him good luck on his search.
Woke up this morning and there was yet another message from him that he had sent after midnight. I just told him that it was me and not him and to have a great life. Not the way I wanted to start my week but I did my best to handle the entire situation was politeness. I hope that doesn’t set the tone for the week but we can’t always control our future.
We will probably never live in a world where we can simply hit a button and our past, present or future can be rebooted. It’s actually probably a great thing that it doesn’t exist because without our mistakes and our successes that happen to us on a daily basis; we will never really appreciate the life that we are given. In the meantime, all we can simply do is remember that we are humans, there are no short cuts in life and nothing will ever be as simple as hitting “Ctr+Alt+Delete.”
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