Plan B

So I have this girlfriend who could easily be on the front of Maxim even though she has a year or two on me. Picture Life Size Barbie and you kind of get the picture.. only she’s taller.

We were both married for way too long and she wound up getting divorced a few months after I did.. so we spent alot of time on the couch digging into the super sized container of ice cream from BJ’s.. throwing out positive affirmation about how great each other was and what losers originally bore the last name we now carried.

At least mine is easier to pronounce and spell.. but I never told her that.

Yknow.. I’m always “Miss Little Positive” and even though I’m like, 90% comfortable in my own skin, I know I don’t look like her :: a fact that she keeps reminding me of :: but I think I am clearly the better person. A fact that I needed to remind HER of earlier… which didn’t sit too well. As you can imagine.

She called me at work around 3 and wanted to meet after work for dinner. She had started seeing the 8th or 9th “Mr. Perfect”  since her divorce and wanted to gush.

I tell her that was cool.. but there was a chance that I might be hanging out with TD tonight so I wasn’t going to sit around Applebee’s all night with her. Not that I had plans on doing that anyway. Once she starts foaming cotton candy out of her mouth, it’s time to book.

She makes this snorting sound. I ask her what that’s about. She ignores the question and tells me she’ll meet me at 5:30.

Fast foward a few hours and we’re sitting at the table splitting an appetizer sampler.

From the minute we sat down, she started telling me about Mr. Perfect 8 :: or 9 :: that she met online. This one is some kind of trades and acquisition big wig that pulls in a 6 figure salary. According to her.. he’s “… not that great looking but he has a house on LBI so that makes the sex easy.”

Yes, she actually said this. And yes, she is the perfect trophy slit. But I heard this before about the attorney… real estate mogal… the OTHER real estate mogal… the construction company owner… the architecht.. who else? Well.. at any rate, you get the idea.

Between bites of spinache dip, I ask her how long she thinks it’s going to take this one to figure out she’s just in it for the beach house.

She laughs and says she “hopes” not until Labor Day.

I call her pathetic. She calls me jealous.

I ask her just what I’m jealous of.

She goes on a litany of everything superficial.. begins to list the things that the Mr. Perfects have gifted her with over the months and finishes by saying “… at least I’m not a Plan B.”

I ask her what the hell she meant by that and she held up her wrist.. taped the crystal of her Movado with her American manicured finger nail and said, “… isn’t it obvious.”

I knew what she was referring to and I’m not going to lie… she was going for the sting and she got it. But I’m too used to her game. I smirked and told her that she was stretching.. she didn’t know what she was talking about because I don’t spill every detail of my life like she does.

She asked me what was so wrong with her getting everything she wants. I told her nothing.. it’s just not my gig. So she gets defensive.. grabs the nearest attitude and asks me what “… it is exactly that YOU want?”

I tell her that the only thing I want is for someone to be just as excited to see me and I am to see them.

She tosses her napkin on the table and says, “… well THAT’S too easy”

Actually, I told her, it’s pretty hard. I go on and tell her that somebody giving me their time is alot more valuable then the diamond drops Mr. Perfect No. 3 :: or 4 :: gave her.

Deep down, I think she knows I’m right because she snorted again :: very unbecoming btw :: said, “… see, I told you. Plan B”.. tossed some cash on the table… and announced quite loudly that she had to go because SHE was meeting Mr. Perfect for drinks later on.

She may have the legs.. and the boobs.. and everything else that comes with the “package”.. but I have the heart..  and the loyalty.. and the integrity.. and the compassion… and the understanding that will be around alot longer then her boobs will.

Well, that’s not true. They’re fake.  But she’s going to look awfully funny when everything else around them wrinkles and droops.

And yea.. the Plan B remark pinched alittle because she knows that’s my usual station.. and that may very well be the reason why I’m sitting here typing this instead of being where I would rather be but it comes with the territory of having the heart… having integrity.. being loyal.. being compassionate and being understanding.

But you know what? If she can play that game and win, more power to her. It’s  just not me.

And it never will be…

(¯`v´¯)
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(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`•. Leese