TITS MCGEE: so, whatcha do last night?
MP: not much. saw wicked-- it was amazing. but... i broke it off with the g.u. girl-- and picked up the woman sitting next to me, which totally makes me an ass.
a few weeks ago, mp asked g.u. girl to go with her to see wicked. normally, she wouldn't ask that far in advance, but it seemed polite to give notice in case her date, you know, has a life. mp liked g.u. girl well enough at that point, and she figured that they would have a good time. the problems, of course, came from g.u. girl getting all weird and atached and the growing affection mp feels for the chickapea.
despite mp's candid talks with g.u. girl, she got the feeling that they were one step away from "why-didn't-you-call-me town," and that little village is a tourist trap along the highway to dating hell. after many, many admonishments from the pimptress (who explained to mp that g.u. girl was saying/doing whatever it took to keep mp around) to break it off, she realized that pimplette does know best. the problem was that g.u. girl was already into the idea of seeing the play, and mp knew it would be an asshole move to uninvite her.
so, they went. after fending off the inevitable advances for a while, mp just put it out there and gave the "it's-not-you-it's-me-let's-be-friends-i'm-kind-of-falling-for-
someone-else" combo. g.u. girl's reply: why can't we still make out?
oh. dear. god.
the flashing curtain light has never been so welcome. as they got seated, mp (who is far more confident and outgoing than she has ever been) began chatting casually with the attractive woman next to her. it turns out that new york girl, now living in l.a., had been forced to attend alone because she could only score a single ticket online (there were absolutely no empty seats). they spoke about the theater itself, the play, new york, the vast leg room offered at the pantages....
mp did try to include g.u. girl in the conversation, but g.u. girl began acting rather... possessive and neanderthalic. she complained that the woman was too chatty. mp, who believes there is never an excuse for bad manners, smiled at new york girl, and said, "it got a little weird, didn't it." by intermission, mp's coat was being shared across three laps. by the end of the play, new york girl was tracing the bones in mp's wrist underneath the coat.
yeah. my person is an ass.
she'll never call new york girl, because it's just not a good idea. it's... it's just... it's just not. and then there's the chickapea, and my poor, emotionally stunted person doesn't know what to do with that... but she knows better than to add a new complication. well. she knows better now.
