It’s Like My Dad All Over Again

Dating, Humor, Relationships

I went to the bar to casually (may or may not) meet someone for drinks. Unfortunately this someone had become a serial bailer which I only 3/4 expected.

Luckily his absence landed me the attention of a dreamy young man shooting pool. Unfortunately after making out in the front seat of some old fashioned car to which I could not figure out the fucking door handle, he started to throw around catch phrases.

“I don’t want you to think I just wanted to sleep with you,”

“We should go upstairs,”

“I think you’re interesting. As a person.”

“So, my ex-girlfriend…”

He had gone from 0-60 so fast and was not even using his cool car in the process.

I was like…Who said anything about all that?

I mean your face is a 10 but let’s face it your body’s more like a 6 and mine’s dancing dangerously between a 7 and 8.

Okay okay, I’ll admit I have always been bad with numbers. My body is probably more 4-6 range but hey who wants an equal partner? I am looking to trade up!

His playbook cited phrases led me to an extremely long attempt at getting out of the car. Again, that door handle was fucking difficult as fuck and this girl has been blue balling it since high school.

While I could have left the car upset at his blatant attempt to sleep with me or for making out with some random guy, I mostly felt awesome that I finally kissed someone who wasn’t my ex-boyfriend. Can someone say bucket list?

In addition, most of my ex-boyfriends had not been so generically attractive so I was stoked. I mean my high school sweetie was kind of a babe but I think I yawned through the majority of our relationship.

Needless to say, I spent the next day mostly forgetting that “I” came before “J” in the alphabet and awaiting the return of my favorite roommate.

I returned to our apartment to find the rent money laid out on my bed in neat columns. I was like…Does this mean we’re going to the strip club? Couples lap dance say what?!

We didn’t.

My roommate’s old flame has moved back into town so he already had plans. As he stood in the doorway I pleaded him to stay (mostly for dramatic effect). I picked up our mini basketball and said these charming words…

“It’s like my dad all over again,”

We both laughed and he left…which actually worked pretty well considering I already had plans for the night too (that phrase applies to my dad as well wink face). Unwink face, dad and wink face in the same statement is creepy as fuck.

I went and had dinner with my old roomies Preston, Conner and James where for 3 whole minutes thought about how upsetting it was that people in the world were starving without food and other nourishment…until the waitress dropped off our chips and queso and I was like…Whoah Savannah! Charitable you is so 3 minutes ago! 

But back to my roommate…

Despite my roomies’ dollar layout on my bed there is a part of me that wished I would have waited for him to go pay the rent because our landlord always gives me such a hard time. This time their office had a new nickname for me.

Drinking Queen.

I played it off all cool…Whatever could you mean?

She was like…

“Your name is on a chair at the bar,”

I was all like…

“You noticed that huh?”

I am sure my parents would love that nickname.

They probably ask one another daily…

Oh honey, aren’t you glad we raised such a beautiful, hard-working, intelligent, loving, again beautiful alcoholic?

Yes. The answer is yes every time.

I used to try and hide my hangovers from them (i.e. wearing sunglasses at the breakfast table – “No it’s not because I’m light sensitive!”), but now I just explain to them what really happened.

Mom! Dad! So I was walking home last night and the craziest thing happened! This large, dark-skinned man walked up to me and held me at gunpoint telling me I would not be released until I took 6 shots of whiskey, 2 shots of vodka, drank a couple beers and shot a few games of pool. What was a girl to do? Aren’t you SO relieved I am safe at home right now?

Anyhow, when Connor got home we talked about our time apart. His was good. Mine was good. Somehow (I really have no idea how. Really. No idea.) he got this impression that some crazy shit went down with me while he was gone.

It kind of did (story for another post). Nothing, however, he would find interesting.

He did.

He starting roaming around my room saying that he was going to get to the bottom of this.

I was like…

“Good luck,”

That was the moment I realized I sounded like a Taken trailer. Again, can someone say bucket list?

He picked up a pair of inside out jeans on the floor and said…

“It looks like there was a struggle,’

Believe it or not, he is as awful a person as I am.

Long story short, my roommate is back say what?!

I’m 5 days hungover say what?!

And…I can now without a doubt assure you I do not care one bit about world hunger. (*whisper* say what?!)

My parents are proud.


4 thoughts on “It’s Like My Dad All Over Again

  1. Charitable Savannah is not only fiscally responsible, but also cares about what her parents think. Good thing Charitable Savannah got replaced by Cool Savannah and played some pool and figured out that door handle before boy with the “lines” get the best of her.

    Liked by 1 person

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