***NOTE: I had previously published this post on 8/14/11, then had second thoughts and, out of respect for Jared, decided to take it down. Now I’ve changed my mind again.***
Jared is the guy I’ve been dating for the last three weeks, even though he lives in the Bay and I’m in Chicago. I called things off with him after a particularly revealing drunk dial from him last night.
I generally don’t have a problem with drunk dialers, especially when they are my boyfriends/boys I am considering as boyfriends, and they’re spending the time they could spend hooking up behind my back thinking of me instead. But this call is so spectacularly inane and aggravating that I’m not terribly at a loss for letting this affair go.
I get the call at 4:30 in the morning, after I’ve come home after my own innocent dalliances out and about with the girls. But whereas I’ve spent my entire evening trying to get rid of a fly, Jared has his excuse to justify entertaining two.
“Hey baby,” he starts, when I pickup. “How was your night?”
“You sound sober,” I muse, smiling.
“I’m mad drunk,” he says, betraying the slur in his words. My smile turns into a frown as I hear something thudding in the background.
“Um, are you okay?”
“I had a lot to drink…” A groan.
“How much did you have?”
“Seven shots… maybe eight?”
I chew on my lip. “Do you have someone there taking care of you?”
“It’s just me.” His voice sounds dreamy.
“You should go drink some water,” I suggest, growing concerned.
“Nah, that’s gonna make me yack.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be silly, you’re going to feel so much better even if you do hurl.”
Jared stops. “Hey,” he suddenly declares. “You’re too nice.”
This isn’t the first time he’s said that to me, and my temper starts to flare. “I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.”
“You should be meaner to me,” he goes on. “In general, in the past, I liked girls who are mean to me.”
Jared ignores me. Instead, he says, “I’m not in my own bed right now.”
My blood runs cold. “Excuse me?”
“Well, these two girls were over…”
“Oh, no, don’t worry, they’re just Min’s friends.” Min is Jared’s FOB friend, and Jared had mentioned these girls would be visiting from Korea and that he was booked to help Min entertain them. “Min ditched us so I brought them home with me. I had to.”
“Had to. Right.”
“Well, so I thought they were going to crash here, so I gave them my bed and was getting ready to sleep on the couch. But then they wanted to leave, so I just cooked some food for them and then played the sax for them, and then they left.”
I think back to the first night I ever went over to his place. We had just met, and Jared was definitely in the mode to impress. Afterward, I raved to my girlfriends about how he had cooked me a fabulous shrimp pasta dish and serenaded me with a lovely jazz piece afterward. And I thought I was special.
Jared struggles to fill the silence while I brood. “Baby,” he cajoles. “I wasn’t going to do anything with them.”
“Mm, yeah, that threesome would have been hot.”
Jared hums to himself. “I won’t lie, if they’d asked for a threesome, I wouldn’t have said no.”
“Of course,” I force myself to laugh, half-heartedly.
I pause. “Wait, you’re being serious?”
I’m getting pissed off.
Suddenly, Jared gets excited. “Hey, my mom asked about you today!” he sings, voice rising.
“Yeah, what did she say?”
“She said I shouldn’t date you.”
“I told her you’re incredible, and she said ‘You need to focus on B-school instead of this girl.’”
“That’s it,” I say, punching my pillow. “What is your problem?”
“What do you mean?” If I was talking to Jared in person, I imagine he’d be batting his lashes.
“First, you drunk dial me, then you say I’m too nice. The hell is that even supposed to mean? Then you’re telling me you had two girls over at your place, in your bed, and now your mom thinks I’m a bad influence. Stop fucking around with me. I don’t deal with that shit.”
“I miss youuuuu,” Jared whines.
I hang up.