Dear bartender friend (who doesn't read this blog, so I can say everything I wish I could say to your face...),
Thanks for calling tonight and reinforcing the reason behind my decision not to call you for the past 2 months. You were drunk and barely understandable (at 7:35 p.m. in the evening), but I could definitely make out the words you were saying that were berating me for not having called you in over a month.
Ok, here's a clue for ya: You give me shit for continuing to go to the bar that you got your ass fired from. You ask me to drive your drunk ass around town. You're abrasive and nasty to the friends I introduce you to. Hell, you left me at a party you invited me to where I knew no one after we'd only been there for a half hour because you'd done 4 shots within the first 15 minutes of arriving and decided you wanted to go home before you got too drunk to drive! Thank goodness I'm a friendly person that makes people feel at ease, and I was able to stick around and have a good time for another 3 hours after you'd left.
No, I haven't called you for 2 months. I feel sad for you sometimes, because I don't think you realize that you're so nasty to your "friends". But then I get over it, and recognize the fact that I don't know you well enough to want to stick around and try to be the one that tries to show you the error of your ways. You recognized your alcoholic tendencies the last time we all went out...you planned on doing something about it. Clearly, that plan has been shelved, if not completely forgotten. (I mean, you were drunk when you made the plan, so maybe you just plum forgot about it, eh?)
I'm not in the mood to try to summon the energy I need to have in order to hang out with you. I don't want to talk about all the bad shit that happens in your life (which, by the way, is mostly because you bring it upon yourself, duh...), and I don't want to hear your pissy tone as you mock me for continuing to go to the Moose to hang out. I don't want to listen to your grating voice as you talk about how you're completely OVER your ex, even though you continue to go to the places he hangs out at, and you even buy shots for him and his now-fiance. Why? Why do you do that? It's so fucked up...
So please, let's just let it be. We don't run into each other ever, because we don't hang out at the same places. The bar you work at makes my head hurt, so I probably won't run into you there very often. We live very different lives, and while we have a couple of friends in common, that doesn't seem to cause us to come together very often any more.
And let me just say that while I hadn't called you for the past 2 months, you hadn't called me either, sista. Which you should have done to apologize for your treatment of me when we got together for the Super Bowl. There's only so much bitching, moaning, and picking a girl can take. And between you and Dave over the past few months, dammit, I have had enough.
Thanks for caring,