image by John Kilar
“The girl mixes coffee with tea. I mean who does that? Just sticks a crusty ole teabag in a freshly brewed cup of normal Joe. It’s like trying way too hard to be irrelevant but then again she is his bottom bitch.”
I was sitting in a position where this intriguing conversation began shooting up from directly behind me. I badly wanted to crane my neck around and see who in their right minds sat just behind me in the café and started spewing such odd accusations about some idiot girl, but I didn’t. I just sat there browsing old text conversations between myself and the guy I had been seeing and frowning down at my beverage. I had just reached a pivotal month-old text conversation between Josh and I when it started up again.
“She’s a complete stupid whore I’d say. Only I bet she doesn’t see herself that way. She probably thinks he’s fucking her from behind because he loves her. And for a moment I almost felt sorry for her.
You know, the fact that he’s been gloating about having an easy bang whenever he wants and at any hour, but now I could care less. I mean this poor ‘daddy problem’ girl chooses to keep coming back. It’s pathetic. Reminds me of a dog and its’ owner playing fetch. All he has to do is text her ‘wanna hang? ‘and there she is at his doorsteps waiting for another two hours of subjection.
They fuck in ungodly positions, he finishes the job all over her body, cleans her up, and then they fall asleep. They wake up, do it all over again except the morning edition. He cuddles her for half an hour to make sure he keeps her emotionally attached then gets up and starts getting ready for his day. Obviously when he’s fiddling around his apartment for a clean outfit, he’s hinting the show’s over. And then she does it. She does it! She puts her clothes on and leaves! What a sad story.”
Well I don’t know if the girl behind me ever won an award for a class speech or something like it, but she had my eyes welling up. It was just so sad. Here I am sitting in my usual Monday morning spot at my favorite neighborhood café trying to fixate on the text conversation Josh and I had a month ago and usually I get this extra dose of shitty “Monday mourners” but today, oh today I get “little miss insightful” and her mute friend. All I wanted to do was get through the month old riff raff I had catalogued.
Me:
I’m two weeks late. I hate that we play God. Why don’t you just suit up for battle if you’re gonna go in?
Josh:
I tried to be safe. Sorry.
Me:
I know. I’m just trying to enjoy being 22 and I’m scared this could ruin my life if it’s real.
Josh:
No big deal. I’ll use a condom next time.
When I met up with him a couple weeks later, I asked him why he was so blasé about my scare even though by then we were already in the clear. He told me if I was in fact pregnant he would help me out and then kissed me. I found it to be a milestone of becoming closer and I could’ve spent my measly morning picking it apart but the two unofficial gossip reporters behind me kept breaking more news.
“She asked him where he saw them going. Can you imagine that? As if! He told her he was so busy with work and that he wasn’t ready for a relationship.
The usual shut down conversation. He said she played mad for a while before coming right back for more anal adventures. He’s got her wrapped around his dick. All he had to do was go out for a drink with her and address her concerns about him not caring by kissing her which was obviously to shut her up and then go off talking about himself and how great and cool everything he does is.
He has her idolizing him and by the end of the night the girl is right back in his bed. Over the next couple weeks he’s texting whomever he wants before responding to the shit load of unanswered ones he has from her. He’s such a pompous asshole but I have to give it up to him. She’s no baby and that’s her problem if she is.”
At this point the tears were really silently streaming I don’t know why but I feel I know this pathetic girl and I just wanted my unwanted café company to leave. These girls’ clueless invitation to ease drop was becoming too much for me to handle. She just kept letting it out to her café therapist, just kept going.
“She gives us girls a bad name and I don’t even know the girl. I mean, I become suicidal when her name pops up time and time again in new stories of how he’s dragged her through the woods once more. He’s choking back a blunt and I’m sitting there with my boyfriend wondering how I’ve allowed them to stay best friends for so long. No matter how sick the stories get my boyfriend just sits there listening and laughing. I guess I don’t know, the guy likes to talk about his twisted scenarios.
I don’t know the girl so who am I to care about her? As far as I’m concerned she’s making her own bed to lie in.”
I was going to turn around and ask them to kindly shut up when my gut feeling came true.
“The girl thinks she’s getting closer to a relationship with him but really to Josh he said she’s just his bottom bitch.”
It rattled me so hard my chest cavity gave in and as I fell forward “coftea” spilled over everywhere. Earlier I swore to myself I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed such an amazing combination but I was wrong. Josh told me it was cute that I liked to mix the two beverages. I now know he was lying.
I bit my bottom lip until a little blood broke through. What was I doing, sitting there obsessing over old unattractive texts like a needy loser would. I wasn’t quite sure what the best thing to do was, so I just went with the first thing that came to me. I gathered the teabag and shallow bit of coffee that survived the spill in my cup, got up and walked over to the table that just unknowingly relieved me of further humiliation and slammed it down in front of them. I then proclaimed “thank you” to the loud mouth before running out.
The last and only appropriate thing to do was send a nice text to Josh. So I wrote:
Me:
Thanks for your “undying care” however whatever it was we had is over. Oh and tell your best friend’s girlfriend another thanks from me as well!
Xoxo,
Bottom Bitch
Text by Inny Taylor.
