Easter Rant

Being a single woman with no children will not stop me from having an opinion on how parents treat the holidays. Or from judging them.

It’s Easter. When I was growing up, the Easter bunny would bring my brother and I each a little easter basket. It would usually have a small stuffed animal, some candies, and a small toy of some sort. Maybe a movie. And we would hunt for chocolate eggs hidden throughout the house. It was great! Simple. What do I see on facebook today? Excess. My parents were sent a picture of their friends’ grandchildren with all their candy and toys. Their loot took up all the space on the giant kitchen island. It could have been posed for a department store display. I heard stories of other children receiving cameras. This is Easter. When the fuck did the Easter bunny start giving more (and better) presents than Santa Claus? No wonder so many kids suck these days! I’m so glad that I am beyond my babysitting days.

Not to mention what Easter is actually about. How many of you believers took your children to church this weekend? Or even told them what Easter means?

Kids don’t have to wait for, or earn, anything anymore. They’re going to be falsely entitled adults with unrealistic expectations about how the world works. Thanks for that. I know most of you who will read this are great parents. But back the fuck off the unnecessary gift giving. It’s too much and you know it.

Someone Else’s Breakup

So originally, I wasn’t going to share this story because I was considering telling the person involved about my blog and didn’t want her to feel bad about anything. But, she’s a stupid girl (not soley based on this story. The more I know about her, the more I’m glad I am not actually friends with her). This is a long story, but I think you need enough background to really feel like you were there with me.

I met April roughly 6 weeks ago. A couple of nights before, my friends Lindsey and Tiawna and I were talking about sex and it came up that Tiawna had never had sex with anyone named Mike. Not even made out with! Come on, everyone has hooked up with a Mike! So, Lindsey and I decided no more Mike’s for either of us until she had one. Anyways, April came up to me in the bar and asked if I would dance with her friend. I said no. And then I said, “Wait, what’s his name?” “Mike.” We burst out laughing, explained the story to her, turns out her boyfriend’s name is also Mike. We get to chatting and this girl seems alright, we’re having some laughs, take some pictures, and she and Lindsey exchange phone numbers. A few weeks pass. Lindsey and April are becoming friends, chatting regularly, hanging out. At this point, April and I have facebooked a few times and texted once in awhile, but I haven’t made plans with her, and I know very little about her except that all of her family is in BC and she has basically no friends here except her boyfriend’s friends.

A Thursday night in Saskatoon comes along and one of my friends comes to visit me in Saskatoon. We spend our evening eating delicious food, flirting with a gay waiter, listening to some sweet live music, and generally drinking our faces off. We end up at a pub near the end of the night and the bartender says it’s last call and we can only have one beer. Ok, fine. Then he comes back and tells us if we can finish them right then, he’ll serve us another. Obviously we prove to him it’s not our first rodeo and he serves us a second drink. A few minutes later, he comes back again and says if we finish those, we can have a third. Best bartender ever! We start to chug and he tells us to stop and keep it on the DL so he doesn’t have to serve any of the other patrons still hanging around. Fair enough. Then he suggests we go and sit with his friends at the other end of the bar. My friend says “uhhh….why?” and I say “Ok” and start walking to that end of the bar. New friends acquired! The bartender ushered the last of the patrons out and directed us to the basement. This night just turned into a game of Dungeons and Strangers. We drank, laughed, made fun of these guys, and had a good time. We finally got back to our hotel and to bed around 5am. Up around noon to shower, pack, have some breakfast, and hit the road back to Regina. We got into town with just enough time for me to get ready for supper with the girls. I’m beat and by the time I get to the restaurant, I’ve already decided I just can’t suck it up and troop my way through another night out. I agree to hang out with them for awhile before the bar. I leave the house around 930, just get settled in on the couch at my house and I’m falling asleep when my phone rings. It’s Lindsey. I don’t recall exactly what she said, but something along the lines of needing me to help her with Tiawna and then the phone went dead. I call back because I’m not sure if she’s fucking around with me or not. I should have known better. She says to me, “Amy, I need your help with Tiawna. Can you drive her to Whiskeys? And since you’re taking her there anyways, can I tag along?” Fucking assholes. So I drive back over there and take them to the bar. I get home and start to get ready for bed. I’m home a whole 20 minutes when I get a text from Lindsey: “Amy, April’s boyfriend ditched her at the Eric Church concert with no money or keys and she says she’s going to walk home. Can you text her?”

Omg, she can’t walk home! It’s freezing outside! So I text her to see if she needs a ride and I’m waiting and waiting and finally, 15 minutes later, she texts back and says yes, she needs a ride. Ok, I’ll be right there. I get to the venue and she not only has no money or keys, she has no coat, and she’s drunk. Her boyfriend abandoned her and then broke up with her over text message. Not cool. They’ve been dating for 9 months, real douche move. She’s hoping he dropped her keys off at her house and just left them in her mailbox so she can at least get into her house. Now, for those who know Regina, my directions will make sense. If you don’t know Regina, just assume my exasperated moments are legitimate. I pick April up at Evraz Place (downtownish area). She lives in the south, just off of Regina Ave. We get to her house, and surprise! No keys. I ask if she wants to go to his house since he’s not answering her calls and see if he’s home and she can get them. She says no because he lives with his parents and had his two kids that weekend and she didn’t want to make a scene. Respectable. But where is she going to stay? She asks me to take her to a hotel. Umm…are you pulling money out of your ass now? Maybe she had a credit card with her, I don’t know. I told her that was stupid to pay for a hotel and she could just crash on my couch. So, we head to my house, in the east end. To recap, I started east, went downtown, south, and now back east. The whole way, I’m wondering how long I’m going to have to stay awake talking her off the ledge. We get to Park and Dewdney, just blocks away from my house and he calls her back. He doesn’t want to bring her keys because he doesn’t want to see her. But he does want her stuff. She tells him she’ll stay in my car and he can go in and collect his things and leave, she just wants to get into her house. He agrees. Oh, back to the south end now? Sure, I’ve got time, I’m not even tired.

We make it back to April’s house and wait for him to show up. Instead of going in and getting his stuff, he gets out of his sister’s car and brings the keys over. She gets out to meet him. He doesn’t want to get his stuff right now. She tries to convince him, he gets back in the car and leaves. She gets back in my car. Umm…sooo…I see you have your house keys…
She starts crying and saying she’s so stupid and so on. I say some generically comforting words, and feel vaguely guilty because this girl just got majorly dismissed by her boyfriend and all I can think is, “Bitch, you gunna get out my car?”
We sit there for roughly ten minutes while she strokes her house key and sniffles and I’m not uncomfortable at all. Then she turns to me and says, “Amy, will you do me a favour?” I’m thinking, Fuck, I’m about to have a sleepover. With this girl I’ve talked to less times than I have fingers! But no, her favour is wanting to go to his house. Uhh…I thought you said you definitely did not want to do that? She, in her drunken state, seems to think minutes are mere seconds and if we leave RIGHT NOW we can catch him before he gets to his house and she’ll be able to talk to him. By this time, he’s turned off his phone. I say, “Oh sweetie, we’ve been sitting here at least ten minutes. We won’t catch him.” She begs me and says he lives close, just around the corner. Fine, whatever. We go down the street and turn down Regina Ave. Seems like a corner to me. Silly Amy. Obviously what she meant when she said ‘around the corner’ was Pasqua Gate. In the fucking north end! Another recap? Sure. East, downtown, south, east, south, north.

On our way to ‘just around the corner’ north end, she sees a car that roughly resembles his sister’s car. She literally undid her seatbelt and crawled onto the floor of the front seat and told me to look when we passed the car to see if it was them. It wasn’t. Obviously. Fuck. We make it to his house and whoa! He’s not outside! Must have JUST missed him! Lucky for me, he turned his phone back on and I had the good fortune to sit in front of his house for 15 minutes while she pleaded with him to come outside and talk to her and tell her why he was treating her this way. He refused and we left. (I would also like to mention at this time that my own phone’s battery died roughly two car trips ago, so I had no escape from listening. But who would want to escape that? Like your average sexual predator, I also find a woman’s tears extremely satifying). She kept talking to him on the phone as we drove back to the FUCKING. SOUTH. END. She jumped out and blew me some kisses and I got to head home. To the east end. Where I live. Just around the corner.

Final route recap: East, downtown, south, east, south, north, south, east.
Time I started to go to bed: 9:30pm
Time I actually went to bed: 1:30am
Number of hangovers I was working through: 1
Hours spent in my car: ALL OF THEM

They’re back together. Love, right? Fuck.

BDK

Let me tell you about Big Dick Kinney, or BDK as I refer to him. I’ve known him for a few months now. I met him outside the bar. I was leaving and there were about 6 cabs lined up outside the bar, waiting for customers. I was debating which one to get into when this guy walked by and asked if I needed a ride. Yep! So off I go with this stranger to his car. I don’t remember a whole lot about our conversation, but I do know I was saying things that made myself laugh. When we got to my house I told him now that he knows where I live, he’d better not stalk me. Then he asked for my number. When he called me, I put him in my phone as “The Guy Who Drove Me Home From the Pump That Time.” He called me the next weekend and I had to ask him his name 3 times because I couldn’t understand him. And I was drunk. I finally asked him over text what his name was lol But kept the old name. We didn’t see each other again for weeks because I wouldn’t let him come over. Then I did. That’s when his name changed 😉 Since then, we’ve had a few late night booty calls. He’s got a great 6-pack and obviously a big dick. I like his style. Sweet AND aggressive.

But now I’m getting a little worried. He came over last night and when my phone was going off, he asked if other guys were texting me. Then he asked about me sleeping with other guys. And then we has this little gem of a conversation…

BDK: What do you like about me.
Me: Your dick.
BDK: lol No, I mean, what do you like about my personality?
Me: Uhhh….pause…your dick.
BDK: That’s all?
Me: I don’t know. You seem nice. You did drive me home from the pump that time. But I don’t really know you.

And that was the end of any sort of normal conversation. Warning alarms went off in my head though. I don’t think he’s quite a stage 5 clinger yet, but he’s climbing the scale. I’m going to play a few more innings and see if I need to call the game or not. It would be a real shame to have to do that. My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, but my honey pot makes them fall in love.