Monday, February 18, 2013

Three's A Crowd

Girl at Gym - "Sí, pero no puedo pick up his dry cleaning because I need to get my brakes fixed y no tengo tiempo to do both."

Other Girl at Gym - "Pues, I don't have time either, and I can't keep covering for you.  I never get any credit, and you will still ask me to do things like this all the time."

Girl at Gym - "Noooooo.  Please just pick it up.  You can even say you did; no me importa.  Take the credit si quieres."

Other Girl at Gym - "So crees que surprising him is OK?  Porque he's expecting you to come over with it, y si llego a casa mañana with a bunch of dry cleaning, he'll be mad at both of us."

Girl at Gym - "Ya no me importa.  If you're going to be mad about it, then just tell him you picked it up yourself, and I'll get my brakes fixed.  Tengo que hacer esto hoy porque I could get into an accident or something, and it wouldn't even matter if I had the stupid dry cleaning or not."

Other Girl at Gym - "Just text him and tell him necesitas arreglar los frenos y no tienes tiempo."

OK.  I entered into this polyamorous relationship under the assumption that having a boyfriend would be a hell of a lot easier.

The reasoning is totally simple.  See, before, I was doing all his dry cleaning (he's older and white, so he has one of those fancy jobs downtown that he has to be at before I wake up and gets home from when I've already left to go dancing), going on every single date (like 3 nights a week), and having to stay at his place all weekend if he asked (and he always asked).  Um.  Hello?!  I'm 22 and still have a life, especially on the weekends; I'm not going to commit to some boring, chief professional officer that can't even go to the clubs with me.  If I could share all this with another girl, I would still be able to have a life as well as all the expensive things a boyfriend provides (nice dinners, sparkly jewelry, super sexy lingerie).
    
So it all started when Adam randomly tells me a guy at work had a threesome, and now he wants one, and I'm all, "I get to pick the girl", and he says OK, so I ask my best friend Leti (and she is totally weirded out by it, but I remind her she hasn't had a date in a while, and he's not going to expect us to do much except kiss a little, and we did that once senior year on a dare), so she says, "Whatever.", and I'm like, "He'll probably take us to a super nice dinner before.", and all of a sudden she's completely into it.

A week later, the three of us go to dinner in the suburbs.  The suburbs (apparently he didn't want to get caught by one of his co-workers or boss on a date downtown with two hot chicks).  It wasn't Ruby Tuesday, or Olive Garden or anything in that strip mall off of Touhy, thank God.  It was (at least) a really nice steak and pureed potatoes type place (I don't remember the name because it was in the suburbs and I swear to Christ I'll never go back there even though the waiter was Italian and totally hot).  I ordered some sort of artichoke appetizer with a gin martini, a dungeness crab topped filet with an expensive red wine that I couldn't pronounce, and a port with my flourless chocolate cake after, because I saw it once on the Food Network, and let's be real, I'm about to get naked with my best friend.

Luckily, I didn't have to say a word during dinner, because the two of them really seemed to hit it off.  I have no clue what they were talking about because I was busy Instagramming my food and playing Words With Friends on Facebook, but I'm sure it had something to do with "corporate" or "future" or "responsibility".  Even better, I totally called the "just kissing" thing.  I practically just sat there during the whole intercourse part, which was completely cool, because sex with him is pretty vanilla (people are starting to use "milquetoast", but I'm totally bringing "vanilla" back), and Leti really needed it.  Unfortunately, though, I did still have to stay the night (Boo!  It was Ladies' Night at the Apartment and all my friends were going to be there - except Leti, of course.).

Pretty soon, he was asking for these dates all the time.  Being the genius I am (I could tell he really wanted to dump me and Leti wanted to edge me out, but since I introduced Leti to him, they both felt really bad, and I was going to milk these dinners as long as I could), I suggested entering into a polyamorous relationship.  They both agreed, and I thought the chores would even out.

I was totally effing wrong.

I ended up being the one that got all the crap jobs, and Leti was getting all the perks.  I was the one who had to drop off all the dry cleaning.  I was the one who had to stay at his place to put away the Peapod.  I was the one who had to pick up his packages downtown that couldn't be delivered to his place.  And Leti was dining at every Michelin starred restaurant the city had to offer.  Leti was getting nice dresses and company excursions.  And now Leti, my best friend, was bitching at me in the XSport locker rooms (he got us both gym memberships after I complained about Leti gaining winter weight FROM ALL HER DINNERS) about what I was slacking on.  Um, excuse me?!  This ho wouldn't even have a boyfriend if it weren't for it being MY boyfriend.

So we argued a bit, and in the end, I picked up the stupid dry cleaning because I didn't want to get dumped (Elana doesn't get dumped).  Also, I didn't want to lose my best friend.  Also, I should fix my breaks at some point soon. 

The moral to this story: if you're going to be in a polyamorous relationship, you should really think about why you're doing it.  Because if you're like me, you don't really like your boyfriend anyway, and it sucks to find out, in the end, he doesn't really like you either.


 

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