Ex In The City

OK, so this city has officially gotten too small for me. So its Friday afternoon, I had just gotten off work and Im walking down Smithfield with an extra bounce in my step because I know that now I can officially sleep in for two whole days (woo hoo!) - then it hits me - like a punch in the face. One of THE WORST things that can happen to a girl, can instantly break her from her upbeat, gitty mood and defintely sweep the bounce right out from under her step so she practically trips over it. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I had an ex sighting.

There he was, standing right in front of me on the corner of Oliver and Smithfield. Oh shit. Now mind you, most of my past relationships have ended well. I still keep in contact with most of my ex boyfriends (on a very limited basis of course), but this guy was different. He was from a different phase of my life - the post-college relationship phase were I went out on so many horrible dates I had given up on the male species altogether (more stories on this yet to come). I had to let this guy go not because of his own merit, but because of his friend's. His friend had the most horrifying laugh that I have ever heard. This consternating cackle caused a whole movie theatre of people to stare (out of pure terror I'm sure) at us. It takes alot to get me embarassed, but he managed to do it.....for a whole 2 hours. And folks, this wasnt even a legitimate laugh, this freak was laughing at things that werent even remotely funny. So I decided not to chance it. If this guy had a freak like this as a friend, surely he wasnt a far drive from freakville himself. I never called him again, and now Mr. Horrible Date #3 was standing right in front of me.

I had two choices: Choice #1 - Act my age. Say, "Hello Mr. Horrible Date #3, how are you? How have you been? Seen any good movies lately? (with your freind and his uncontrolable laughter)?" and watch this turn into a horribly awkward conversation where we were both acting so fake towards each other that it could start to make my Gucci knock-off look legite OR Choice #2 - Run.

Readers, I chose Choice #2. I couldnt risk it. I couldnt risk him asking me about my present dating life, couldnt risk him asking me why I never called, and COULD NOT risk him (Gasp!) asking me out on another date. All Mr. Horrible Date #3 saw that Friday afternoon was an "Oh Shit" look plastered on my face and the dust I left behind me after taking off down Smithfield Street. Well OK I didnt actually run, even though it was my true intention. In a final effort to save some face after deciding on Choice #2, i decided that I could not break out into an all out sprint throughout downtown Pittsburgh. If I started to run, he would think that I was the freak, thus defeating my purpose for labeling him in the first place. I may have opted not to run, but I dont think I've ever walked so briskly in my life. I had saved myself from aquiring a one way ticket to freakville, surely paying off my credit card bill couldn't be that far away.