Digg This
It’s one in the morning. My neighbor is dating the founder of Digg.com. But she’s not really dating him; she’s just sleeping with him because he’s also sleeping with her best friend.
It’s St. Patrick’s Day, I’m drunk and I haven’t eaten dinner. I’m in her apartment eating hummus and baby pickles. Because that’s all she has in her fridge. I thought women were supposed to have food in their fridge. But they never do. They have two items that correspond to the diet they’re on. It’s hummus and pickles this week. Last week it was yogurt and hotdogs.
I used to want to sleep with my neighbor but she made it clear that she didn’t want to sleep with me and so I’ve finally come to terms with the reality that she doesn’t want to sleep with me.
So now, I’m that gay best freind, except for the fact that I’m not gay. Which is only a problem becaust I have to listen to her long winding stories about some guy who I don’t know, who is sleeping with the girl that I used to want to sleep with.
Apparently, he doesn’t know that she knows, that he’s sleeping with her best friend. And the fact that he’s sleeping with someone else doesn’t seem to bother her becuase she’s still going to sleep with him.
She’s convinced that she needs to gain control of the realtionship. But there is no relationship.
He’s rich, famous, and sleeping with thirty other girls.
But she doesn’t want to hear the truth.
So I eat the rest of her pickles.
And then leave.
