Sock boy moved to the other side of the country. He just so happened to move to a city where I have several good friends. We stayed in touch via facebook (i mean, duh) and when I announced via facebook (another duh...who doesn't announce their entire life on the book?!?) I had cashed in some miles and would be visiting, sock boy got busy on the bbm. We txted back and forth for a few months, mainly him asking me to meet him in Vegas and we could get married and me responding with requests to see his biceps via txt picture. He had never been so attentive! I knew it would be short lived and I most certainly knew I wouldn't actually see him when I landed.
Wrong. While riding on the back of my best friend's scooter, taking in the breath taking scenery and trying to out do one another with romantic boyfriend stories (nothing like romantic scenery to bring out the best in friend comps), I sent sock boy a txt that I was indeed on west side soil. he responded in disbelief that i had actually contacted him. i mean, who are we kidding. does he have my number or what. i informed him where we would be going that night and that was that. my friend and i went about our beeswax, dined at my fave thai restaurant in the city and made out way to a fun little spot for some debauchery. about an hour after we arrived, sock boy walked in. my stomach was in all sorts of knots, and while i would like to blame it on the thai food (or the alcohol like jamie), i can only blame it on him. he walked in looking taller, more broad and cuter than i remember him being back home. he pulled the typical sock boy move: he picked me up, swung me around and i was gone. he flirted his way back into my heart in roughly 2.3 seconds flat. we picked up right where we left off, in a way only old friends often can do. his wing man was doing everything he can to convince my wing woman to go home with him; she was not even considering it but didn't actually put her foot down until he informed me that my steweys were in no way as fabulous as a pair of louboutin's. i was insulted. not to mention a little concerned as to why this seemingly straight man even knew so much about women's heels. sock boy out his wing man in a cab and returned to me (my wing woman had moved on to another douche).
when it was time to leave, sock boy offered to share a cab with us. the first stop was naturally my friend's flat. she got out of the car and RAN INSIDE (side note: i had informed her multiple times that i would NOT be going home with sock boy, and not to let me get in a situation where I might be tempted. he needed to know I was not that kind of girl, and that history does not always repeat itself). Since she clearly had blown her ability to withstand awk moments in the back of the cab, i was left to take care of myself. who does that to a friend! how old are we here! sock boy and i got into an argument when he couldn't believe i would not be going home with him. i leaned in to kiss him...it's not like we've never kissed...he pulled back and said (get ready) that the only way he would be making out with me is if i come home with him and make him mac and cheese. i'm sorry but WHAT!? i am on VACAY, not on cook for you cay. i get out of the car, he flips me off, and the cab takes off. i run inside, in TOTAL disbelief to my friend who can't give me the attention i need because she is explaining to her roommates why we would not be smoking the hookah with them.
i'm sorry, but am i in a movie? i just got flipped off by sock boy and now some cats want to smoke a hookah? time for me to go to in and out burger and eat my way to feeling better.
sock boy and i haven't talked since. just in case you were wondering.
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