Burned.

Well, I didn’t do a zombie pub crawl yesterday, although I was still pretty much a zombie. Saturday night was a disaster. Here is how that went down.

Unsuccessful Date Guy. I went to his variety show Saturday night after the Broadway show. Now, despite the fact that I SAID he was unsuccessful, he took me to lunch (his own initiation, btw) on Friday. We had a lovely time, catching up, eating sandwiches… I obviously thought that things were turning around and we could go back to Potentially Successful Date Guy. Well, I have a new (and much more permanent) nickname for him. I think it’s going to be Two-faced Douchebag (2FD for short). 

So lunch on Friday was lovely. I thought things were going well, so I decided to go to his show Saturday night. He was there (and acting a little weird) and sitting next to a skinny blonde girl, who was texting away. Soon it became clear that he was familiar with the blonde. In fact, VERY familiar. It was his girlfriend who lives in Pittsburgh. So, while the rest of the night he basically pretended that he only knew me in passing while I sat literally next to his girlfriend, I drank at least an entire bottle of wine. 

The worst part is not that literally EVERYONE in the bar is our mutual friends who knew that I had been seeing 2FD or that they also all knew the Blondie was his real girlfriend and I was the other woman. It was definitely the fact that he openly chose her over me and, in a moment of true character coming through, totally and completely failed every test of decency that I could have used to make an excuse for him. Especially after repeatedly telling me that he sees us together and he’s going to break up with his “long distance thing” who is obviously a lot more serious than he’d let on.

When he went out to have a cigarette, and I had consumed about 3 glasses of wine, I struck up a conversation with Blondie. She models professionally and has her own company. She’s in town pretty often. He goes to her place pretty often. Oh, and did I know he’s allergic to cats? She has two, but he deals with it for her. I played along like I didn’t know him very well and I never told her that I was sleeping with her boyfriend. I’m a classy lady. And in any case, telling her what a piece of shit he is wouldn’t change the fact that he didn’t pick me. 

Then later, his OTHER ex girlfriend (also a blonde model) showed up for the show. Seriously? How many women in this bar have you FUCKED, 2FD? Am I LIVING in my own nightmares? OMG. 

So, the moral of the story is that I got totally burned this weekend. 24 hours later he texted me “I’m sorry about last night.” Well, too little too late, Buddy. Go fuck yourself. I don’t exactly think a delayed text apology is going to instantly make this water under the bridge.

I moped a lot yesterday, but today I’m moving on. I already did the running man naked in my living room to Marky Mark and then followed it with Cher. Pumping up my morning to remember that I am young, single, and living in New York City. And I can do better, biotch! I DO believe in life after love, Cher. Thanks for reminding me.