Wednesday, February 11, 2009

One Phone Call

My friend Carrie is a handful.

When we met, she had a super hippie boyfriend who had a beard and loved to smoke reefer and play with audio engineering. And he probably played the guitar-acoustic. But I don't recall.

Then, the boyfriend left Carrie for the great state of Texas, his home territory. She was devastated because they were fine in their relationship. He just couldn't make it in Los Angeles.

So Carrie did what any heart broken girl with a bad attitude and a penchant for the dramatic would do- she went on a rampage. She had only been with a couple of guys prior to the hippie boyfriend. Maybe none. I don't recall.

But when he left? Sistah racked em up. She'd go out to bars and end up with a fella next to her in the morning, stinking up the place. She'd kick him out and call in the next one. Girl was on a roll.

So I did what any good girlfriend would do - I instituted the One Phone Call Rule.

From that point on, Carrie was not allowed to go home with (or get naked in the parking lot with) any boy that she hadn't talked to on the phone at least once before. And calling each other on cell phones while at the bar didn't count as the one call.

She was okay with it for a little while until one night when we met some very cute boys at a sleazy Irish pub somewhere in the San Fernando Valley.

Carrie looked so cute that night- in a halter top, tight pants, heels, and her fake Kate Spade cherry handbag. She knew she was rocking it when one of the cute boys insisted on making out with her in the bar. And she was more than a little bit tipsy.
When closing time rolled around, we all spilled out of the bar. I was not drinking at the time, so I could tell that Carrie was being sneaky and trying to get around the One Phone Call Rule. I denied her any further access to the boy after they exchanged phone numbers.

She tried giving him her address, but I was staying over. She tried running away, but she was in heels and drunk and got only about five feet- around the corner of the bar. She gave up on trying to work around me and just got mad.

After the seven-hundreth time of begging me to let this one go and me refusing, she got so upset that she tossed her fake Kate Spade cherry handbag onto the ground, followed it with my car keys- onto the sidewalk, and stomped, crossed her arms, and wailed about my stupid rules.

I calmly picked the keys up, left the purse, and headed toward the car. She followed, laughing and yelling at me at regular intervals.

When she woke up the following morning, I reminded her of what happened and all she wanted to know was- IS MY FAKE KATE SPADE OKAY?!! And it was.

I was just happy that she didn't fling herself onto the concrete for a full-on tantrum. But she had enough sense to avoid that, this time.

14 comments:

Unknown said...

Man, was I pissed. I still have that hand bag. Its still in top notch condition no thanks to me and my tantypants.
Also, I lived in a studio guest house and weren't we sharing a car at that point in time? Where would all the action have happened?Thank goodness you weren't on the bottle at that point in time...

Unknown said...

And I forgot. Fuck the one phone call rule. Game killer.

TC said...

I think there are a lot of girls who could benefit from the one phone call rule...

Le Meems said...

I love Carrie.
The week I broke up with my boyfriend, officially, I effed like 5 dudes in a week.

The one call rule would have been great for me, ya see.

Now I've decided to be a lesbian for a minute and see what happens.

Is this TMI?

The Ambiguous Blob said...

Carrie, You needed a game killer at that point in your life. And yes, we shared everything just then. Ahhh, the olden days.

TC, I know I could have used it several times, but I don't know any better.

Meems, Girls kick ass. Go for it.

Rassles said...

The "One Phone Call" rule would never apply to me. Because I have absolutely no game. None.

Anonymous said...

I say even if he calls you from across the bar.....game on.

Time to change up the rules.


peace
#2

The Ambiguous Blob said...

Rassles, I think you and Carrie should hang out- she can show you the way of getting game. Not like douchey annoying "Mystery" and his awful but wonderful to watch TV show kind of stuff- just some lowdown dirty tricks to get all the boys hot & bothered.
She's hella nerdy and has extremely picky taste, but manages just fine out in the big, mean world of boys & girls.
But I'll warn you now- she'll totally try to make out with you all the time. So just watch that and you'll be fine.

The Ambiguous Blob said...

sista #2, I disagree. At least in the case of this out of control lady. She was on the path to becoming a megaslut and it really wouldn't fit the rest of her personality.

Unknown said...

I <3 sista #2.
The only thing I can say about being on the path to megaslutism is "I LEARNED IT FROM WATCHING YOU!!!"

The Ambiguous Blob said...

carrie,
true. undeniably. however, if I jumped off a bridge, would you follow?
ah, who am I kidding? you jump out of planes every day. of course you'd follow.
damnit.

Ginormous Boobs said...

it scares me when you are the voice of reason when it comes to sluttin it out.

Also, Meems, try the girl thing. But keep in mind scissoring is a big dirty lie invented by men for use in porn. It works neither on land nor in water.

Laura said...

I should totally hook her up with my four year old, they could throw tantrums together-- good time, good times.

paperback reader said...

As a man, I can't support anything that prevents girls from putting out.