Thursday, March 05, 2009

Reunited....and if feels so gooooood.

I went to a reunion of sorts last night. Someone I went to school with put a little gathering together via facebook. Now, I didn't know about it until the last minute for two reasons.

1. The girl who set this up has had some serious animosity towards me since, maybe, senior year.
2. I am not on facebook.

As I think I've stated, facebook is for women who want to cheat without actually having sex or women who simply want to check in on all their old boyfriends to confirm their nagging suspicions that they fucked up and married the wrong guy. Oddly enough, I know this from listening to other people talk. My wife is not, for now, on facebook.

Anyway, this chick has a hate on me, Never knew why, never really cared. A couple of friends dated her in college. One for about a year and my roommate, senior year, was swindled into taking her to formal. She actually admitted, last night, that she was upset when he chose the law school he atteneded. He had nailed a perfect score on the lsats and got a full scholarship to some school in NY. She was rather impressed with his scores and thought it was not worth bragging about the school. Shallow bitch.

So, I'm in a restaurant with my wife many years back (girlfriend at the time), and this girl comes over to me and says hello. She's got blonde hair (she was always a brunette) and she's got a whole new look and I don't recognize her. So she says her name and I say "Holy shit, I totally didn't recognize you." We spoke for a minute or two and then they sat us.

When we sat down, my wife asked who she was and I said her name was Abe. Abe Froman. My wife looked at me like I was nuts, then I corrected myself and told her the girls name. She asked who Abe Froman was and I said "the sausage king of Chicago." Then I explained the nickname and she understood. Then we see the hostess coming over with Abe and her husband and you see the empty table next to us and you see Abe say something to the hostess and they stop, turn around and head back to the front of the restaurant.

She didn't want to sit next to me.

I got a kick out of it. Didn't know why but figured she wasn't a big fan, I knew two guys who she used to fuck, she puked in my roommate's bed on a few occaisions, she's with her husband etc.

So, she has this party last night. Everyone I know gets an evite or a facebook thing. Except me. One of my friends asks me if I'm going and I told him I had no clue. So he fills me in on the details and I tell him, oh, I wasn't invited because I'm on Abe's shitlist for some reason or other.

He laughs, says that can't be. Not on facebook, not her list, that kind of shit.

I wasn't sure if I was going until ten minutes before I left for the party. So, anyway, I head over there and I find the bar and walk in and what do I see?

My ex-girlfriend from college. We dated/hooked up for most of college and our senior year we were, mostly, exclusive. We dated for a few years after college and I broke her heart. I say this because her sister told me, her parents told me and she told me. She wound up marrying a guy who, apparently, looks like me. She has twins, she lives in the burbs, she's happy now. The last time I spoke to her was 8 or 9 years ago. She was coming on to me in a bad way and she had just puked. Seems she was a bit nervous about seeing me and she drank too much, or so the story goes.

Anyway, there's my ex. She sees me and smiles. I smile and mouth hello at her and scan the room. Great, the girl she's talking to? Been there. And that girl. And I hooked up with her. My roommates' girlfriends from college were all there.

Everyone was there. Totally fucked up. No guys. Wait, one guy. A famous friend who's show is filming in the area for a while popped in. He had a "rescue me" look on his face but I wasn't going anywhere near that group of girls and I let him know.

I wound up talking to a couple of guys from my fraternity. More of my friends showed. It was a most pleasant evening until about 10:00. My friends and I had already discussed the whole Abe Froman didn't invite you because thing when suddenly Abe walks over, stand in front of me and says "you named me Abe Froman, I never forgave you for that. You were an asshole in college and that name has been haunting me my whole life."

I looked up, smiled, turned to my friends and said "see, she does blame me for something."

Then I turned to her and said "Abe" Ok, I used her real name. "It wasn't me. I'd love to take credit for it but I'm just not that quick. Nicknames were never my thing." My friends all agreed and she insisted. She told me the party where it happened. I asked when this was and she said "first semester, sophomore year, I was just starting to date Steve (friend of mine)." I asked if she was sure.

100%. I remember it like it was yesterday.

I spent that semester at home. I told her this. She didn't believe me. She asked my friends. They confirmed it. she said I was an asshole and I came up with name.

I told her that harboring deep seated hatred for me for all these must really have been awful, more so when you learn that the focus of your ire is totally innocent.

She said I wasn't. I told her Abe Froman was a fucking great nickname. I told her there were far worse things that the guys called the girls.

She asked for examples.

Another girl who was there, who looks amazing and who I am friendly with (and hooked up with once I think - yay me) said "they called me the forehead - my forehead was big so they made fun of it. I tried different hair styles but it was big."

Someone said "it was."

She agreed.

We had a girl we called the closet ho, we had the scarecrow, chalkpussy (don't ask), stubble bush, the headmaster (my ex, aptly named) and stinky vuj (misnomer if you ask me).

None of them seemed to give a shit and their names were far worse.

This was brought to Abe's attention. I then told Abe that Brad Pitt uses the name Abe Froman for reservations and other things that might alert people to who he is.
Someone asked if that was true.

I explained that it was. I explained that I nearly pissed myself when I got into my elevator one night, years ago, to find an envelope marked ABE FROMAN, with the apartment above me listed as the address. Brad and Gwynneth were living above me at the time.

Abe got testy and said "I'm going to ask her, I was just with her and I can ask her."

I said do it. I said "she lived on the third floor, I gave the address and I said she can even ask if she remembers the guy who helped her with her bags when she came back from shooting in Georgia with Jessica Lange. She was hauling bags in and I helped her.

I then thanked Abe for putting the party together. Told her, next time, I won't come as it is clear she has some issues with me, unrelated to her name but they are there and it would be best if I let her keep the unnecessary hatred bottled up inside.

Then I said goodbye to friends, working my way across the bar, so long, great seeing you etc.

One of my friends stops me and says "do you know her name?"

He points to a very attractive woman.

I say no. I apologize, tell her I spent the better part of my college life in a haze, I'm horrible with names and faces and, odds are, I might have a touch of brain damage.

She says "see. told you"

I ask who she is. She is the roommate of a girl who dated a friend of mine freshman year. She was in school for one year after that, I think. she fought off a rapist who slashed her hands and arms and I never saw or heard of her again. I knew she was a fucking champ. That was it. she is now a stunning woman, as opposed to a cute freshman.

How the fuck am I supposed to remember her? We were barely friends.


I move closer to the exit and I get pulled in to the girls I most want to avoid. The ex, her sister, the other girls I hooked up with multiple times.

Why didn't you come talk to us?

Tried, busy. You guys look great. Seriously. I need to go. Getting up early. We need to do this again. Maybe I'll get invited next time.

Then I get it.

Are you on facebook?

My ex is smiling at me. She wants to be my facebook friend.

I lean in, kiss her cheek, tell her I'm not on facebook but I'm out and about and if she wants to keep in touch, almost all of her facebook friends are friends with my real life friends as well as facebook friends with my sister so, keep in touch.

I kissed the other girls goodbye and walked out into the night.

Tonight I have a charity event with the forehead and another girl from school who wasn't there. I'm looking forward to hearing what Abe said about me after I left.

And for the record, as far as I can recall, I did not come up with the name.

I hated that bitch. I'd have called her much worse.

23 comments:

foxy roxy said...

i've seen toddlers pushed off tricycles who didn't react so childishly.

i have sympathy for her husband, though. Imagine the kind of shit he gets to listen to.

I just flashed on the movie creepshow, the one with the tasmanian devil and "just tell it to call you billie" remark.
I'm willing to bet that's her husband's fantasy.

Floogin McNoogin said...

funny thing is, everyone was telling her the truth. shit, I wish it was me. fucking brilliant.

was that creepshow, II or III? my memory does seem to falter more these days.

foxy roxy said...

it was the first creepshow, with the father's day cake.

the second was the one with the raft. never watched the third.

talk about a head for useless information.

i guess i should count myself lucky to remember such stupid details, or I'd be broke.

Floogin McNoogin said...

right, I remember that now.

so, a head for useless information. Cliff Clavin? That you?

foxy roxy said...

omfg.

I just convinced myself 30 wasn't old, and bam! Older than fuck, because I know who cliff clavin was (cheers). add that to mork & mindy (I was 3!) and i feel like i'm moments from breaking a hip.

guess i'll have to rethink this summer's white-water rafting trip.

another note; I must rummage through scrapbooks for photo, prove not a dude.
no, not cliff clavin. are you?

Floogin McNoogin said...

30's old?

thanks said the guy who turns 40 a week from today.

I'm not Clavin but I'd kill to have that postal uniform. I hear the babes go mad for a guy in postal gear.

foxy roxy said...

40 isn't old for a guy.
30 for women is bad; we're just hitting our peak while most men of any damn age are preoccupied with 20 yr. olds.

no on the postal uniform.

show me a guy with a police badge hanging on a chain from his neck and...well, i won't get graphic.

let's just say i'd have to sleep in a freezer for a week and leave it at that.

Floogin McNoogin said...

we aren't all searching for a kid who can't converse about something unless they saw it on mtv.

But, like your complaint about men looking for younger women, there's a large swath of the male population that get shut out simply because they don't have a badge.

I'm going to take a stand here and say that you should be ashamed of yourself for admitting to the majority of the population that, sans badge, they might as well pack it in and go home.

This poor fella has the wrong badge and someone is going to have to break the news to him that he's going to need a different badge. Who's going to do that? Not me.

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jM6QQd5lPXI/RzQzGmZBl4I/AAAAAAAAAEM/8JxCZRIIAlQ/s400/nerd.jpg

foxy roxy said...

I will never be ashamed of admitting what turns me on.

regardless, i never said it had to be a real badge, worn by a real cop. just a guy, preferably in jeans, unshaven, great sense of humor. sexy.

think russell crowe in american gangster (and I'm one of three women who doesn't drool over him). it's all in the attitude.

besides, doesn't everyone have that one little fetish that gets them hot?

can't link to blogspot

Floogin McNoogin said...

I got me a badge. it's on one of those chains and I haven't shaved in two days. I must be smokin' by now.

Alas, here in reality world, nobody gives a damn.

Laura said...

"I will never be ashamed of admitting what turns me on."

I am with you on this one foxy, to bad the one at home doesn't give a damn.....

And the two of you should just shut up...you could be my age. 50 Not that I feel it at all.

ok I should stop posting after a couple of martinis.

Floogin McNoogin said...

check it out, I'm sandwiched between two broads - ten years older and younger.

whoohoo

foxy roxy said...

i'm not afraid of my age, as i've never lied about it. I've known great looking women at 50 (my mother had great genes, and if alive today, she'd be 50 and looking spectacular, so i'm not worried).

it's the damn signs that do me in. Every time i go into a store, I catch a look at the sign behind the register that says you must be born on or before this date- yr, 1988, in order to buy alcohol.
every time i look at it, the fucking year changes, it seems.
I blame the signs.

Mr. McScruffy, buy some nice fitting jeans, throw on a sweater and wear that dangling badge on the street, and women will likely throw more booty at you than you'll know what to do with.
At least from my perspective.

but then again, I guess i'm not in reality world, just las vegas.

Floogin McNoogin said...

I wasn't kidding when I said I hadn't shaved in two days. I'm wearing a good pair and, oddly enough, I'm sporting a nice, light blue sweater. Not a bit of booty thrown at me. Might need to bust out that DEA badge my brother in law got me a few years ago.

foxy roxy said...

well, then, maybe it's just me.

sorry, but i can't throw that far.

Floogin McNoogin said...

heavy booty or long distance?

perhaps the long arm of the law might come into play here.

Laura said...

Hmm I am only a few hours away.

foxy roxy said...

ha ha! Smart-ass cracks her knuckles, as now we've run the gamut of my area. Wording.

clears throat.

upon sitting in a chair day in and out, i have to fight off flat booty, not fat booty. stairmaster helps it stay perky.

if i'd said i couldn't throw IT that far, that might insinuate large-ass syndrome, or poor muscle strength.
distance a problem, nothing else.

Floogin McNoogin said...

flat booty? sounds like something new from the makers of pirate booty which, by the way, is something I could never eat. I know what they mean by booty but, being the deviant that I am, I have this vision of those green cheese doodles being plucked for the inner crevices of some fat, smelly pirate's ass.

ok, lunch time.

Laura said...

You two ought to get a room. ;-)

Floogin McNoogin said...

me and sexy scott, I mean foxy roxy? I'll let foxy respond to your suggestion

foxy roxy said...

whenever i go out on the town with some friends- usually mirage- i do get a room, as it saves me from drinking and driving, as i live on the other side of vegas.

and, dammit, if i were a man, i'd probably have a hell of a time in a hotel room 3 or 4 times a month with three other women. shit, i'd be the luckiest damn guy alive, with the exception of hefner.

one email screws the pooch, and suddenly... if i had balls, the ball-busting would hurt.
must find photo.

Floogin McNoogin said...

As usual, Floogin is confused. I'm a man, well I used to be, and I don't spend any time in hotels with multiple women.
Stupid reality.