Wednesday, July 21, 2004

My friend, the b*tch

Kristin did not return last night. Two nights in a row, she was gone. So I called Michael today. I wanted someone to listen. I felt a little awkward spilling my problems on Michael when I know he recently broke up with this girlfriend. He’s depressed, and really doesn’t need me dumping my life drama on him.

Our conversation ended like this:

“Thank you for listening,” I said.

“No problem,” Michael said. “I’m always here when you need someone to listen.”

“I wish Kristin would have told me where she was going,” I said.

Michael paused, then said, “You don’t know?”

“No.”

“She’s here, in Indy. She’s staying at your apartment. We went out and had drinks last night.”

“She’s in Indy?”

Kristin has always had a crush on Michael. She probably thought she could kill two birds with one stone. Avoid John Maguire in Chicago, and pick up Michael on the rebound from his broken relationship.

I’m in Chicago, putting myself in danger, and she’s in Indianapolis picking up my man. Well, Michael isn’t my man, officially. He’s a friend. A good friend.

Kristin has bitch tendencies, but she has never used them against me… until now. I am very hurt… and very angry. When she returns, she’s in trouble. I will not employ mind games. I will employ the tactic of shoving my pump straight up her ass.

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