The winning combination of today being Friday and Big Bird working from home was truly a gift from baby Jesus. My day was amazing. I didn’t do much work, I went for a walk outside, and I was out of the office right on time. These are the days I love. Especially now that I’m being paid $16 an hour after having made it through my three-month probation.
I wanted Sebastian out of my apartment today. Unfortunately, he is only able to move into his new place on Monday. I felt bad, so offered him to stay another night. Just one, though. There was absolutely no way I was letting Sebastian stay here over the weekend. Nobody stays at my apartment when I’m not there. Hell to the hell to the hell to the no!
Earlier this week, I made dinner plans with Melanie and Selena for tonight. I had also suggested we attend a screening of Jaws at TIFF, but Melanie wasn’t into the idea. We scrapped the movie, and decided to just meet later for dinner. This worked perfectly for me. Obviously, I wanted to see the girls. At the same time, I didn’t want my workout plans disrupted. Now, I had more time to spend at the gym. Excellent.
After work, I did my thing pon de treadmill and then schlepped home to drop off my backpack. The bag I carry to and from work every day has so much stuff in it, one would think I was either traveling to Europe for six months, or joining the Army. Nope. It’s just gym gear and a fuck ton of Tupperware for my work food. Once I was satisfied with my exercise – satisfaction with my body is about four months away – I went home to shower and change for dinner.
The main reason why I bought weed yesterday was so that I could bring it to Montreal this weekend for Kate’s bachelorette party. If I’m going to be subjected to the organized wrath of Rebecca Price, I’m going to need to be under the influence of at least two different substances – alcohol being the first. There is a major problem with me keeping weed in my apartment, though. Much like Michelle Tanner and cookies, when I see a nugget, I can’t forget about it.
I grabbed my pipe from the bathroom shelf, which was where I left it last night after Sebastian forced me to smoke in my bathroom like a 16-year-old hiding from their mother. Except, in my case, it was reminiscent of me at 23, smoking in my bathroom during a classic Pow-Wow session.
Listen. If you’re my houseguest, you’re just going to have to relax your views on drugs. Either that, or pack up your shit and move the fuck out. The last time I was forced to smoke in the Witch Cave bathroom was when I went on that really boring date. The guy was so dull, I left him on my couch and secretly blazed while on the toilet to liven things up. What a fucking snooze-fest these guys are.
Anyway, I didn’t smoke that much. Just enough to give me a light buzz, as I wanted to be somewhat lucid for dinner. When I got in the shower, I had a bit of a trip, though. As I looked around, something felt different. Cleaner. Brighter. More sanitary. Wait a minute. Did Sebastian clean my shower curtain?
I’m not going to lie. Although I am a very clean person, I have not properly sanitized my shower since the day I moved into the Witch Cave over two years ago. Think of that what you will, but I fucking hate cleaning the bathroom. I can live with a little mold – okay, a lot of mold – on my shower curtain and tiles. Sue me.
As I continued inspecting the bathroom – I was standing nude in the shower with the curtain drawn open – I realized that Sebastian didn’t actually clean the plastic liner. Instead, he’d clearly gone out and purchased a brand new one. The mold on the tiles was also gone, and for the first time in two years I could see my distorted, fun-house mirror reflection in the chrome faucet. This was amazing! Suddenly, I had an entirely new appreciation for Sebastian as a houseguest. Putting up with his mundane babbling for a week had totally paid off. I had a whole new bathroom now! At first, I thought I was just stoned. Nope. This was a real fucking bonus for me.
Speaking of Sebastian, we never ended up talking about what happened the other night, nor do I think we ever will. However, I will say that I was totally disenchanted after we fornicated. I’m not attracted to Sebastian. I don’t ever want to go down that road again. Alcohol: helping Kurt make bad decisions since 2009.
As usual, I arrived late to dinner. Fortunately, Melanie was also going. I can always count on that girl to be later than me, just as I can always count on Selena to be fifteen minutes early. Once the three of us had arrived at Wilbur, we ordered at the counter and grabbed a table at the back of the restaurant. We stayed for a couple of hours, downing multiple margaritas and shooting the shit with one another in a way that only old friends can do. Selena stuck to water. The poor girl’s got this thing about not drinking and driving. Pfft.
I love hanging out with old friends. It’s probably one of my favorite things to do. I’ve known Melanie and Selena since kindergarten. As such, they’re able to see a side of me that’s completely uninhibited. We know one another from a time before all of the bullshit. When you’ve had a relationship with someone that long – over twenty years now – there are no walls. You fart, you burp, you talk shit about people you know from yesteryear, and there’s no judgment. I fucking love it. That’s why I take any opportunity I can to be with old friends. These days, there are so few people in my life who I can hang out with the way I do with Melanie and Selena. Our visits are always so comforting. The same thing happens when I visit with friends like Katya or Zoe. It’s such a true delight.
After dinner, we settled into a parkette on Adelaide Street and sat on a bench to talk for a while. Selena smokes weed, but didn’t want to tonight. Again with the driving! As for Melanie, she apparently won’t touch the stuff anymore. That was news to me. I admire people who can recognize what a substance will do to them, and actively avoid taking part in it. As opposed to me, who realizes there is a problem but can’t fight the desire to ingest – or inhale – whatever is tossed my way.
I got a little baked. Melanie wanted to continue drinking, so we stopped by a liquor store and picked up some canned wine to drink in an alley. Wow. What a class act we are. The three of us continued to talk and laugh with one another, but eventually it had gotten pretty late. I still had to pack for Montreal, so we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.
This whole time, I’ve failed to mention that Melanie is moving to England in two weeks for her master’s degree program. It doesn’t feel as shocking as it sounds, mainly because Melanie has been living in Halifax ever since we graduated high school. I mean, the East Coast is so far, it might as well be the UK. In fact, I’m probably more likely to visit Melanie in England than in Nova Scotia. Although, I have always wanted to try lobster. I’m definitely happy for Melanie, but I also find the news to be somewhat depressing. Yet another one of my friends is going off on an adventure. Meanwhile, I’m still stuck in Toronto, ready to pull out my eyelashes at the next “6IX” t-shirt I see. I’m so over it.
I took the subway back to the Witch Cave, and packed for Montreal in record time – throwing some clothes and essential bachelorette items into my Marc Jacobs weekender. You know, the usual. Weed, condoms, a disposable camera, and all of the alcohol in my apartment.
Earlier today, I’d convinced Sebastian that it would be an excellent idea for him to go out tonight. As a result, he was partying across town at Big Primpin’ when I got home. Perfect. I was free to smoke all the weed I wanted from the comfort of my bed. Ah, bliss. No more bathroom blazing for this stoner! The pot I picked up from the dispensary is some of the best Maui Wowie I have ever had. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
After some time on my computer, I drifted into a nice, cozy sleep without having to worry about inviting Sebastian into the bed with me.