Consequences of Messing with the Bull

Jack didn't offer up any information about the girl at the theatre and I didn't ask. Instead I deleted him from my life: I didn't call him, sign on-line, nor e-mail. After five days, Jack called me.

"Hey what's up?"

"Nothing, I'm just shopping." I shop as a form of therapy and had spent the last five days redecorating my apartment. The hunt for new pillows for the couch was keeping me distracted.

"I promised Helen that I would meet up with her tonight. Will you come out? I want to see you."

"Um, okay." I have no spine. No spine at all.

I beat Jack to the bar by two and a half hours and had managed to down four half-priced gin and tonics. As soon as Jack arrived, Helen had to leave--her boyfriend was back in town and she had to run to meet him.

Jack turned to me, "So talk to me."

"About what?"

"I dunno, you said you were redecorating-"

I snapped. "Why don't I talk to you about the job I found five days ago that I wanted to talk to you about. Or my big office move--I have a window now--or what about my apartment? It's completely different!"

"Yes, you could talk to me about all of those things."

Gin and tonic number five arrived. "No! You said that you would call me back, FIVE DAYS AGO! Here let me reenact the phone call for you," the few people left at the table got wide-eyed and signaled for their checks. I stuck out my pinky and my thumb and jabbed it against my ear, "Hi, my name is Jack and yes, Sarah, I really do want to hear what you wanted to talk to me about. Hey, let me call you back though because I have to go!" I put away the pinky and the thumb, "That was five days ago!"

Everyone scurried away like cockroaches. Jack counted the days on his hand until he hit five and nodded. "That wasn't how the phone call went," he put his head down, "but it was pretty close."

"AND THEN I have to hear from my friends that you were out with another girl!? I don't have a lot, Jack, but I have my pride. I know we're not exclusive and you can do whatever you want, but to flaunt it around my friends by introducing her to them! They text messaged me the whole time, I know." I then went into detail and reenacted every text message. I'm big on the reenactments when I'm drunk and angry.

Jack listened patiently. "So did Harvey message you after the movie?"

"Yes, she said her name was Andrea and that I'm prettier," I scrunched up my nose at him.

Jack flinched and I knew Harvey was telling me the truth about Andrea's looks. "So did Harvey tell you she also met my roommate?"

I paused. That information was entirely new to me, "Well, no."

"Well she did. It was me and Andrea, the customer service girl at my company, and my roommate who works in the same department as me. It was three coworkers. Andrea sat in the middle because she a girl and that's just the rules.

"Harvey met us outside when my roommate was smoking--you know he smokes. And my roommate asked Harvey if there were any nicknames that I have that he didn't know about. She said, 'Yeah, doucheface.'"

I laughed. Harvey is the best friend a girl could have by saying that in front of everyone, including Andrea. And then I leaned over in my booth and laughed harder, hard enough for Jack to realize that Harvey was speaking the truth and not just making a joke.

"Wait, they really call me Doucheface?"

I shrugged.

"Who called me Doucheface?"

Everyone, including the people of my blog. "E2."

"Why?"

Because of everything, Jack. It started with that horrible way you spoke to me before Easter. The way you get angry with me when I hang out with my friends because you don't even want to see me. Because you are borderline verbally abusive with me. Because you make me feel like a piece of crap and everyone has noticed that I'm not happy around you or talking about you.

"Because they thought I was out with another girl?" he guessed when I never actually opened my mouth.

"Yes."

"Well will you straighten it out with E2 that she wasn't a date and just a coworker?"

"I don't know that it's my place to do that." I was hurt and angry and the bravest I've been in months. I wanted Jack to hurt like I've been hurting.

"Given the information you had, I completely understand why you're upset. But if I were you, I would ask Harvey if she met my roommate and then ask why she lied to you."

"But it doesn't explain the other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

"Like you haven't called me on your own since before my birthday. That was over three weeks ago."

"I looked for you on-line this week and you weren't there and then I called you today."

"Outside of today, you haven't called me in three weeks. I had to call you to make sure you would still take me to the baseball game for my birthday. Everyone had called me but you. And then Cinco de Mayo, you didn't even let me know you had decided not to come after all."

"You sent me a text message. You know how I am about invites."

"I don't care how you are about invites! You got the same invitation everyone else did and--once again--everyone else showed up but you. When you are invited to something, just respond if you're going to go or not!"

"That's fair."

Jack then argued that he didn't know one form of communication was better than another, i.e. IMing versus a phone call. The sober me would have said we IM when we're at work and distracted, but the drunk me was stunned into silence that this was his honest argument.

My confrontational spirit came in 10-minute waves. I would rant for 10 minutes and then stop and put my head in my hands, "I'm sorry. I know you didn't come out to be bombarded like this."

"No, go on. You obviously have stuff to say."

And then I'd rant for another 10 minutes. Jack handled it as best as could be expected. He mainly just stayed silent and let me get everything out that I had been holding in since the beginning. Honestly, it's the best way to act when I do reach my limit. Mainly I just want to spew everything I've been suppressing; I don't need an actual resolution to feel better.

After I was done, I wasn't angry anymore and we spent the last hour and a half at the bar talking about what was going on in my life: the job opportunity, the new office, and my new blue apartment. Two and a half hours after Jack arrived, we got up to leave. He walked me to my truck and planted a kiss on me. This time I flinched. I had come to expect nothing from Jack, so I was surprised when I actually got something.

And I liked that I flinched.