Recently I found myself driving East. For me, the hustle and bustle of the big city is sometimes just too much and a break from the noise is exactly what I need to regain my sanity. East is my home and spending a weekend surrounded by family and old friends, in the comfort of the house I grew up in, is often what it takes to ground me, to remind me of who I once was, who I am now, and how far I've come.
Of course, any time spent in the place I lived for eighteen years of my life is subject to walks down memory lane, both good and bad. And as I made my way closer to home, driving past the wheat fields and rolling hills of central Washington, I thought to myself "I really hope I don't run into anyone I don't want to see this weekend."
Fast forward three days, a regrettable late night texting conversation with one ex and an unavoidable run in with another, I was eating my own words on the drive back to the West side. When you're from a smaller town, situations like this are inevitable, unavoidable, and just down right frustrating. But even with that notion in mind, nothing could really have prepared me for the night I spotted an old flame from high school, who clearly is aging much better than I am. As I desperately looked around for a hiding place, realizing my best option was to seek refuge in an "intense" texting conversation (with myself) on my phone, he approached me with a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eye. The moment he hugged me, opened his mouth and said "Always good to see you" I remembered why I had fallen for this All-American boy five years ago, and the moment my heart began to melt for him all over again he said, "I want you to meet my girlfriend..."
Sometime during the five minute conversation I had with the happy couple, I checked out. She was smiling and talking about how they met and I was thinking back to the time when I was the girl riding shotgun in his old truck. And the memories of him and I as teenagers out on some old country road, watching the stars on a mattress in the bed of his truck became fresh in my mind once again while driving back to the city. "Thank sweet baby Jesus I don't have to deal with awkward run ins in Seattle" I thought. And once again, I spoke too soon.
Last Friday night we found ourselves sitting at a table in a popular bar, attempting to accomplish our summer goal of "mingling" more in the city. After a few rounds of vodka tonics and one too many jokes about our bartender who eerily resembled Russell Brand, Madison spotted an ex of her own, looking exceptionally good (because they always do when you can't have them) from across the bar. Though she ultimately broke his heart, and most likely his confidence after recently making out with his best friend, Madison made her way back to our table after a twenty minute conversation to inform us that he has a new girlfriend. And regardless of the fact that sometimes he dresses like a 45 year old soccer dad and the fact that she is the one who ended things, I understood where she was coming from when she sat down and said "I need a shot."
As I stood to order Madison a stiff one, I looked to my right only to see a reflection in the window that made me want twelve shots of my own. Waltzing through the door, with an entourage of his "boys" was my first and only "date" in the city thus far. Our eyes met and he waved in the most awkward of ways, as I tried to bury my face and attention in my phone once again, trying to hide the fact that I looked like I had just seen the ghost of Christmas past. To this day, I really can't pinpoint what makes things most awkward between us. Maybe he is still annoyed with me because I was thirty-five minutes late to our date on account of getting totally lost downtown, or maybe it is the fact that the week after we had dinner, I found out he had been dating someone else for four months. Whatever it is, it is there. And the awkwardness is great enough to cut with a knife or better yet, cause me to down a bottle of Absolut Vodka. Or three.
"Well this night cannot get any more uncomfortable" I whispered to the girls as they shook their heads in agreement. Thirty minutes later it was Darcy who was hiding her face as her ex-boyfriend entered the bar hand in hand with his on-again off-again girlfriend. "Looks like they're back together" Darcy mumbled, as she finished her drink and flagged down Russell Brand for another.
Although I am fully aware that this seems like the plot of a twisted romance horror film rather than our actual lives, this was our reality on Friday night and a harsh one at that. After debating whether or not we should try our luck elsewhere and leave the cesspool of old heartbreaks and relationships gone wrong behind us, we decided to accept the circumstances and rage on. It really is amazing what can happen when four girls turn the back room of a packed bar into a place with an atmosphere comparable to that of a college spring break. It wasn't Costa Rica 2009, but taking body shots off a Lebanese man named Felix sure felt right. Anything to avoid interaction with the situations at hand.
The next morning as we recalled the previous nights events and tried to figure out what in God's name we did to deserve such awful karma, I realized that though we are still semi-new to this city, and the dating scene here, we sure as hell have already made our mark. And though this city is big, much bigger than the place where I grew up, this world is small. And I will definitely take that into consideration next time I think I can avoid an awkward run in, no matter what city I'm in.
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