Cheffy is at a party right now. He cooked for all our friends out at a badass lakehouse, and is now probably getting his drink on. I heard he was busy making sappy love speeches & toasts and stuff (see, I told you my girls are on it for me).
I didn't go because had already committed to babysitting overnight last night for Sis #1 who was celebrating her 10 year anniversary.
30 hours babysitting. I just got in. I'm tired as a motherfucker.
Thanks for your concern. I overreacted. Ok, no I didn't. But I was steamed to the point of disappointment. I refuse to get into the very same situation I just got myself out of.
Seems as if *ahem* someone needs a little reminder that he's part of a team and that a phone call is all it takes.
I don't mind someone coming in at 3am. I do mind waking up at 3am and freaking out because he's not there. Not to mention the whole calling the cops and thinking he was in a wreck.
He was late because of a work-type thing (whatever - a friend of his opened some new club), and we had just been together at a lovely party at my sister's that night. Cheffy impressed all the bunko (aka now the drunko) girls with his Chefly magic. (a total food orgy. It was awesome) I left at 10:30 to go home (Zoe's dad was watching her). I was expecting Cheffy shortly after me.
I woke up at 3am and no Chef. It absolutely freaked me out. He showed up like 20 minutes after I called the cops.
His explanation was lame. No, seriously y'all, it was. I didn't care what he had to do, just the fact that he didn't phone me was all.
Because I had this sad dramatic flashback of the last moment I saw him at my sister's house and was thinking ... Oh my God. That will be the last thing I remember of him. (this really sweet mushy I love you thing. It's secret. Don't tell him I told you all this.) And I couldn't handle it if that was the last time I was going to see that beautiful man.
He agrees. There was no excuse for not calling.
None. And that it will
never
happen
again.
Because he knows that next time. Well if there's a next time, he'll come home and all his shit will be packed up and piled on the porch.
And that's when some new chick is gonna be stuck tasting my chonch when she kisses him.
Since I'm a cunt like that.
Just ask ... oh, nevermind. She's so not worth it. Her man's gone all gay on her and shit.
Posted by debutaunt at June 12, 2004 11:38 PM | TrackBack