Running into — OK from — my ex

It’s never fun when you run into an ex.’Cause they inevitably catch you on a bad day… And even if you look good, you never look good enough. I was on a train today and sat down right next to — I mean literally knees touching and everything — a man I was seriously involved with about 6 years ago. Didn’t see him when I got on the train and hadn’t seen him since the last time I kicked him out of the house. And wow was it awkward.

I was lucky — I actually looked half-way decent. But when he tapped me on my shoulder I literally stopped breathing for a bit. Apparently we’ve been riding the same train at the same time every day for years, but we’ve never run into each other before.

Our conversation was really superficial:

Me: “So… what stop do you get off at?” (Translation — How much longer are you going to be on this damn train?)

He: “Me? Oh, just two more stops to McPherson Square.” (Translation — Yeah I’m counting too.)

Me: Oh… Cool.

I found myself digging around in my bag for stuff that wasn’t there. Trying to figure out if I snuck and turned my head and put on some lip gloss would it be too obvious…

Of course it would, Erin. He’s already been looking in your face for 5 minutes. He will notice the hot pink gloss.

Damn. You’re right, self.

Exhale. No matter how curious you are about what the other person has been up to, or how good/bad the split was, running into an ex is never pleasant. It’s like [insert super-appropriate analogy]. I’m hoping I don’t run into him again. But please believe that I’m gonna step my Metro fashion game up.

Just in case ;)

Good Game?

butt pat

OK… so my friend Keisha and I went out to this bar/lounge last nite for the launch of this new Wednesday nite hot spot (hopefully) in downtown D.C. My friend Ra helped to promote it and I hadn’t been out in D.C. for a while, so I told him sure I’ll come.

While we were there I ran into a girl I’m friendly with and know socially–she seems like a very cool girl, but we’ve never actually hung out. Keisha and I were at the bar batting our eyelashes in hopes that men would buy us drinks–like any self-respecting women would do–and we were talking with this young lady. Anyway… to make a long story short, it was a Wednesday nite so I didn’t feel like staying out too late and the three of us all decided to leave at the same time. But as we were walking out of the door and saying our good nites, she slapped me on the butt.


I was so shocked I just kept walking and didn’t tell Keish til we got down the block what had happened. Is that what’s poppin’ in the streets, now? Ladies, are we just going around slapping each other on the butts like we just won the pennant?

I know she and I have had conversations about guys in the past, so I know she’s not gay. Maybe she thought I’d be cool with that. Maybe that’s how she and her friends say “Peace.” Or maybe… maybe… maybe?

Whatever the reason I was uncomfortable all the way home wondering if I should have addressed it, so that it wouldn’t be awkward the next time we see each other, or wondering whether other people saw the little exchange and my non-response led her and/or them to believe I was OK with it… I dunno. Weird-o nite indeed.

Flat tires and sexual favors

“I jacked it up but I couldn’t get the nut off. I don’t know why. I’m usually really good at it.”

I said this to my old boss a few years ago. I was explaining that I was late because I had problems changing a flat tire. I didn’t realize why she was blushing until a while after I’d walked away. Sometimes life is funnier than any joke you can write.

Random memory on a slow blog day. You’re welcome.