Thanks to our friend PR, Jr. I have a few more gaps filled in about Friday night. I am also convinced that everyone knows we slept together as we spent so much time being distant from each other after they knew we’d been epically drunk together the night before.
To be honest, they all probably assume we’ve been sleeping together the whole time.
I overspent on Friday night — thinking I’d probably lost money somewhere, too, but I hadn’t. I bought a drink, a beer, and food. That was $25. I had $50 on me and only had $7 left. Maybe I paid for a cab for us. But, my money was tight with only $20 left for the weekend. Tickets for the show: $12. I messaged Bandmate and asked him to put me on his list. PR and I had discussed it in more sober moments the night before and he said he would handle it. I was not confident. A cab home could cost $12, so I could not take a cab home and pay for the show. Fortunately, BM did. Unsurprisingly, PR hadn’t thought about it. (He’s ridiculously successful and money just doesn’t occur to him.)
It’s been a matter of pride that I have paid for every single one of their shows. It’s a sign of respect to the band. Typically, musicians put me on their guest list, plus one, with vip access if such things exist. But, these shows, I pay. They know. I have also actually paid for two of their cds, also something they find amusing, as I had unmastered versions of the songs from PR when we first started dating. I have all of their albums, and multiple copies of the last one. They tend to give me stuff.
Before the show, I met my aunt/godmother and her new husband for wine and a little food at my second favorite restaurant in town. It was amazing, and she offered to help me find a new career. My aunt, with whom I share two names, looks remarkably like me as well. We are very similar in very good and very bad ways, but I love her dearly and she gets me. She’s also extraordinarily well-connected. We had a lot of wine, and not a lot of food . . . of course, and it was amazing to see her.
After they left to get ready for a dinner, I stayed behind and finished my wine and then walked to the coffeeshop next door. I grabbed a cup of french press coffee as it was now 630 and I had hours to kill before PR’s band went on.
I sat at a table upstairs, which enabled me a perfect vantage point. I started somewhat tipsily finishing the version of the PR post I published yesterday. I talked via text to a guy or two, but no one could meet up for a couple of hours. Fine. Again, I was writing and dealing with last night’s aftermath.
Downstairs, the coffeeshop was transformed into a coffeehouse, hosting live music and an art show as a fundraiser for someone who’d been hit by a car. Or something. I wasn’t paying that much attention. The music was great, though.
The coffee was helping to sober me up, which I definitely wanted before wandering off. It was getting cold, but I was ready. I was as “punk” as I get: black leather jacket, great jeans, comfortable loafers, a brown complicated french t-shirt, a rose colored Italian scarf I wear a lot as it has some interesting design elements.
I grabbed a slice of pizza, with my eye on my budget. It was terrible, but again, I needed real food if I was going to be drinking anything.
When I got there, I was a little surprised by the venue. They decorated it and there were (we all agreed) models and actors positioned throughout marketing a new product. It was utterly bizarre. But, it meant there was a ton of seating available inside. I wandered over to where BandMate, PR, and BandMate’s Girlfriend were sitting. I talked to them for a little bit, but I did not really engage. It was pre-show and they were going on in 20 minutes. Eventually, I asked PR to move his legs, which were on an ottoman, so I could hug BMG. BM started to stage direct the hug. They were silly and already drinking. Typically, I leave PR alone before a show. I never want to interfere in his prep.
Like me, PR is always glued to his phone, so he’s in his own head, and rather ignoring all of us. It’s not personal to me. He and BM wander off to the outdoor stage to finish their prep, leaving me with BMG.
PR, Jr. shows up with his girlfriend. He laughed when he saw me. He told me that he had left at 1130 because PR and I were drinking very heavily and getting drunker and drunker. He knew we were okay, but things were getting out of hand. It seems clear that he assumed we’d slept together. I think everyone assumes it. We are single for the first time since we split up . . . and I have very openly spoken about my breakup with BV as it happened in public. A month ago.
So, PR and I are single and we are drinking heavily and we’re clearly still in to each other. As always.
And all of our friends end up leaving us . . .
I still have no idea when we left or how we got back to his condo downtown about six blocks away or how we decided we’d have sex or any discussion we had or whether we discussed it at all. I assume we talked. I know us. We probably drunkenly held hands and stumbled down the street together. I don’t know why I went up instead of taking a cab home. We likely made out in the street as he keyed us in to the side entrance. We climbed the three flights of stairs, took off our jackets, and then everything else as we made our way to the sofa.
We had sex on the sofa, again I would assume no conversation, no bargaining, no discussion. Likely I was sitting astride him on the sofa and we pulled off his shirt and threw it one way as we pulled off my shirt and bra in one move and threw it the other. These things i know from physical evidence and my previous experience with him.
I wish I could remember any of it, but I can’t. I have no idea, but I assume it was as bad as it could be without my throwing up. From finishing a beer to falling into his bed. That’s still all I know for sure. But, now I have the added knowledge of timing and the fact our friends were rather convinced things were quickly falling apart in ways we liked.
It is as if they all knew we were going to end up together, even if we didn’t.
Yeah. Awesome. The look from PR, Jr. essentially communicates “ha, you slept with PR.” For all I know, we were kissing in front of them. Because really, I have zero idea. And it wouldn’t have been the first time. We’ve kissed in public before — at a variety of clubs at his shows and shows we’ve attended, at his office during a party, on various sidewalks.
Anyway . . .
BMG and I head to the bar before we head outside. She wants a cocktail. I’ve given up liquor, and I decide to skip alcohol, too. I ask her to grab me a glass of water and she hands me a bottle, which is cool. She’s a great girl. Quite sweet, but with an excellent occasional Mean Girl streak. We like each other very much. We’ve become over the past few months quite close for women who are barely acquainted. I am friends with BM, too. When things were really awkward with PR in January, they kept me company and were awesome. That was the night before BV and I broke up and I had confessed to BMG that I had a dude and it was rather serious. I even showed her a photo — “wow, he’s handsome.” Yeah. Also, it’s likely she noticed a passing similarity with PR.
BMG and I head outside and we take our usual position: first row, in the middle. Her boyfriend and PR are always center stage, so it’s convenient for us both. The show was AMAZING. Seriously. There were a few hundred people there and the energy was insane. PR was incredible. So incredible in fact that the lead singer called him by full name and said it was his best performance ever. Which it really was. He was insanely on and we were all blown away. It made their performance even better. Of course, as soon as the lead singer pointed it out, PR fucked up the next song so badly they started over.
That’s our PR.
He’s sort of the drunken elf of their band, which is saying something. He’s wildly successful, and also a playboy, with a reputation of being a bit flashy (he drives a really stupid car everyone loves, he has a room dedicated to his bikes, he’s a photographer, etc.), but he’s also their little brother. He’s the richest, by far, which is saying something, but he’s often the target of their jokes. He’s also the shortest among them, and he’s rather pudgy, which helps. Because he’s the famous one — loud and brash — they tease him more. But, on stage, tonight, he’s killing it. And they love it. And it makes the whole band even better.
I laugh to myself — and later mention to BMG — that he should repeat his pre-show prep.
After their set, they have to load-out and it takes PR the longest. I am talking to PR, Jr. who is filling me in on the details and then just general gossip with his gf and BMG. She goes back in for a drink and eventually we all drift around.
I step out onto the front patio and my phone clicks onto the network. I checkin and then I shoot a text to LP. Part of what I thought about as I watched PR was LP. I just apologized for it being late (it was just after 11 pm and he’s early to bed, even on a Saturday), but I wanted him to know I was thinking about him.
[I had a missed text from him at 640 am, wishing me a good morning. I was sound asleep at PR’s house and missed it. I had responded at 1015 am.]
I wandered back inside after a few minutes and lost signal again. The next band starts. I see BMG and BM with most of the band by their merch table, but I don’t join them right away. I am still having lots of thoughts about everything that’s happened over the last 24 hours. I am still freaked out about PR and the fact that I got blackout drunk with him, had (likely) unprotected sex with him, and woke up naked with him.
I actually have complicated feelings about PR still. I talked about it all at length in December in Ex-Girlfriend when I realized our friends had conferred “ex-girlfriend” status on me, even though I was never actually his girlfriend. It is a sign of respect.
I have now gone back and read a lot of my PR posts over the past year. It is all still complicated. My biggest disappointment for how things went awry on Friday is that we had an AMAZING time until we got hammered and had sex. Like important, world-changing, amazing discussions, an invite to my favorite restaurant with his band, fun stuff, work stuff. And it felt like the sex part ruined it all. But, I am probably wrong about that. The sex part was inevitable.
We have a relationship that’s deeper in some ways than it would seem. There is a lot of respect there. There has always been crazy chemistry . . . I mean we met on Christmas 2010 and were instantly smitten and ended up spending about 24 hours together. He was lovely. I thought he’d be in my life for a week or two tops.
And now . . .
We are giving each other a lot of space deliberately.
He is some 50 feet away with his friends and bandmates and I am talking to one of the guitarists, and then the lead singer as they were more in the mix, and then I eventually make my way over, but more to hang with BMG than with PR.
PR wanders away from our group at times to check on his gear or pick up a jacket or take photos. He’s being fidgety, but not much more than usual. He’s often floating around at shows after his set. He is not glued to my hip as normal. I am not glued to his either. I am not really talking to him.
BM and BMG are entertaining me, and we are listening to the first band, which none of us like, and then the second band, which again, we’re not crazy about. It’s getting progressively colder and my legs are shaking.
I decide I am going to leave as soon as this band is done. They are going long and I am getting annoyed. PR stands close behind me. I see his shadow reflected in the people in front of me, but I do not turn around to talk to him nor does he lean forward to talk to me. It’s rather obvious to everyone that we’re not really interacting, but we’re not hostile either. We’re just giving each other space.
At one point, BMG says to me something and I realize that she knows or suspects that we’ve slept together. BM is PR’s best friend, so it’s quite possible she knows. I don’t remember what she says, and I can barely hear her, but it’s sort of obvious from her expression that she assumes that our crazy drunken night ended with us in bed.
Which it did.
As the last band wraps up, and I am making jokes, and we’re having fun. PR and standing about 10 feet in front of me with the singer. i talk to the singer first to say good night. We talk quite seriously for a few minutes about their next show and he is grateful for my support. He knows that I am why the chef got involved and we talk about the restaurant and it’s fun. PR is there, but not paying close attention. I bid the singer good night and then turn to PR. I hug him and he pulls me very close, kisses me tenderly on the cheek, and says “goodnight, darling.” That he calls me darling charms me every time.
It’s one of those moments that conveys a lot.
I have been trying to demonstrate to him that we’re cool and friends and it’s not a big deal that we got drunk and hooked up. And he acts as he always does. I should not have left. I should have stayed and let him escort me to a cab, but I was freezing and still sort of exhausted and cranky and I wanted to get out of there. Still, I appreciated that we made it through the evening well. If we betrayed anything, it’s that we were a bit more distant than normal, while being obvious that we’d been together the night before. Which means we probably made it obvious that we hooked up.
I do genuinely like him and I miss him in my life. When I have been reflecting on who I would want to have in my life . . . it’s him. Of all the men currently in my life, it’s him and it always has been.
The reaction our friends always have is that we are never done with each other. And we’re not now. I am a bit embarrassed, as I have no idea what happened. But, I will see him again in a week or two and it will be more comfortable. I have proven to him and to myself that I can hang out with him and it’s cool with no expectation I would be going home with him. But, there was definite chemistry even in our distance and certainly when he pulled me close. There is always something there and it’s obvious to us and to our friends on both Saturday night and on Friday night.
We shall see.