Socially Stunted Satisfaction?

A while ago I made the decision to go to Hawaii to go to a friend's wedding. The funny thing about this friend that is getting married is that I have been on a date with him. I went on one date with him and at the end of it, we laughed. There was absolutely no chemistry. However, we were such good friends that we stayed that way. I met him the first day of college and we've been friends since.

This friend, set me up with his best friend, whom I dated for three and a half years. Yes, here you have it, this is how I started dating Social Retard.

The wedding is next week and I am going back into credit card debt in order to travel to Hawaii to attend it.

I have never needed a vacation so much in my life. And this is going to be quite a vacation. Social Retard is the best man and there are only about 10 guests that aren't family attending the wedding.

I had a choice. I could bunk up with the ex, invite a date, or go it alone. I chose the final option, and it will be my first solo vacation.

With that comes certain implications. I am staying in a four-star hotel all by myself and my ex is staying on the same island. I have not felt the weight of a man on top of me in nine months...this makes me almost famished. I have promised myself that I will not be engaging in any adult activities that involve raingear for any below-the-belt parts.

Social Retard supposedly has a really attractive girlfriend who is not coming to the wedding. This makes me think that maybe this so-called girlfriend is no more. I mean, if you had been dating someone for over a year, and you were best man in the wedding, wouldn't you invite her?

I may be wrong, but Social Retard also called me to say he'd be glad to pick me up from the airport.

Am I in trouble?

Probably.

Trouble Moves to the Best Coast

Trouble, being Kim, one of the Sparkles, who just arrived from the East Coast.

For Kim and me, trouble tends to hang around like old people at Bingo Night.

It all started in high school.

Two friends, experimenting with alcohol. First, there was the conversation about it. We didn't want to get caught talking about drinking, so we used a code word. The code word being "steak." Most of our conversations went like this, "Well, the thing about steak, is you probably don't want to have just one bite, so you need to prepare to eat the whole thing. And make sure there are some complimentary sides (aka chasers) to go with it."

When you use such a funny code for drinking, you might forget to actually research how to drink correctly. And you might assume things amateurs would assume.

Clumsy: I heard that if it is the same color, you can mix it.

Kim: Yeah, I did too. And this way your parents won't even know we took it.

Clumsy: Top off the mug with all of the clear alchohol with that Gin, and the dark one with the whiskey. I have a 2-liter of coke for us to have too.

Kim: Okay, do you want to start first, or should I?

An hour and a half later, Kim pukes in a cup and then knocks it over. I, Clumsy McNasty, start to clean it up with my bare hands. You could say things got a little out of hand.

Next thing you know, Kim's parents are chatting it up with my parents upstairs while Kim and I are taking turns getting sick in the bathroom. Classic, absolutely classic.

FLASH FORWARD (ten years):

Kim arrives on the West Coast, buys an absolutely fabulous red convertible and we decide to get crazy over the weekend. After driving around with the top down (and burning herself silly) and drinking all Saturday on my porch with my roommates...we take ourselves to dinner. Well, we take ourselves to dinner after we walk back to get my phone and my wallet. We finally sit down at a restaurant bar and start chatting it up with the bartender and the men sitting next to us.

The bartender (Ken Doll) is extremely good looking and I flirt my way through the whole night. Kim starts chatting it up with an older man who is quite obviously having an affair with the female waitress...and with a guy who calls himself Joaquin Esperanza. After they closed the bar, and we were the only ones left in it, we drank more with the owner and Ken Doll. Ken Doll asks for my number and if I want to hang out with him.

I walk Kim home, put her in my bed, then met Ken Doll for a walk on the beach. We make out like high schoolers, he walks me to the door and kisses me goodnight and Kim is none-the-wiser. We laugh all morning about Joaquin Esperanza and how I made out with Ken Doll...

What a crazy night. And no, Jim only knows that a bartender asked for my number...nothing else. I must keep my mind on something besides my off-limits roommate...and Ken Doll was a good kisser.

Man, do I love trouble. Welcome to the Best Coast, Kim! I can't wait for all of the trouble we will get ourselves into out here!