It was just that one time. I was drunk. We just happened to run into each other and...well, at least we used a condom. Excuses, excuses. It is a common misstep that most 20 somethings have stumbled upon in their decade of decadence. The story usually goes like this: You’re with someone for a while; real feelings develop, but for whatever reason, it just didn’t work out. You two decide to be “friends” and then there is a lonely night, with a bottle of Merlot and a blackberry - or that one Cinco de Mayo where you got uncharacteristically hammered and insist that he meet up with you, only to find you wearing a stranger’s do-rag and a Gerber daisy in your hair. He proceeds to escort you uptown and is mauled by you in the back of a yellow cab as the tequila courses through your veins and you become painfully aware that a strawberry garnish does not serve as a proper meal with which to server a dozen margaritas. But I digress. (read more)
march 2011
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