I met Kit at work. He was an account executive for one of our clients. We met in person and the next day sent a few funny e-mails back and forth. I wasn’t immediately attracted to him because he was a ginger. Like, a super ginger. And I’d never dated one before. But long story short, we met for drinks, I laughed my ass off and we started hanging out. He even made me dinner at his house one night, where I was introduced to his friendly pup, Ren.
One night when I asked what he was up to he told
me he had a bachelor party and couldn’t hang out. Date night free for the first
time in a few weeks, I happily gathered up a few of my friends and headed
downtown for some cocktails.
Frog and Peach was packed. After a few drinks, my
peanut-sized bladder could take no more. I grabbed my friend Katie’s arm and
dragged her to the bathroom (because that’s what girls do).
Mazing our way through the crowds, I spot Kit
across the bar. We make eye contact and he immediately waves. I asked what he
was doing there and he said the bachelor party took a turn for the best and
decided to hit the town. Elated to see him, I told him to have fun and that
we’d chat a little later.
Per usual, there was a line 3 people deep in the
ladie’s. Katie and I took position and waited. Both of us still reeling from
the coincidence of seeing Kit at the bar, Katie asked me how things were going.
Before I could answer, the girl behind Katie asks for her name. “Ummmmm, it’s
Katie.” With squinty eyes and a slight sway, the girl asked what my name was
next. “It’s Carrie,” I told her. “Oh. Hi,” she says. “I’m Sarah. Ren’s mom.”
Ren. As in Kit’s dog. It takes me a second to piece the puzzle together, but I
soon realized the drunken aggressor was Kit’s ex-girlfriend of 4 years. The
same ex-girlfriend of which their relationship had just recently ended about
six months before Kit and I met. A few beats later, Sarah pipes in and says,
“This is awkward,” and stumbles out of the bathroom.
I shot a quick glance to Katie that
telepathically said, “What the FUCK just happened?” and we both bolted to met
up with our other friends, anxious to tell them the story. Like a tennis match,
Katie and I went back and forth telling everyone the craziness that just went
down. Shortly after the chaos subdued, Kit found his way over to me and said
he’d heard what happened in the bathroom. He apologized profusely and said he’d
talk to Sarah and tell her not to approach me ever again. As if God was looking
down and saying, “What a sucker,” Sarah comes out of no where and wedges her
way in between Kit and I. She just stands there, looking from face to face to
face of all of my friends with an idiotic grin. A good 10 seconds passed before
Kit asked quizatively, “Sarah… what the hell are you doing?” Without hesitation
Sarah replies, “I met your new giiiiiiiiirlfriend in the bathroom. We’re friends now!” She clanks the drink I’m holding
with her brand new beer, lifts the bottle as if to say, “salude” and then
chugs. And chugs. Until the beer is gone. Like a car accident, none of us could
stop watching. It's as if time stood still.
Kit grabs Sarah by the arm and pulls her away
from the group. At this point, I start laughing hysterically. For once in my
life, I’m not the craziest person in the vicinity. There was more conversation
about “Crazy Sarah” as we called her, when I got a text from Kit. Sarah had
escaped from the bar and was making, what I presume, were empty threats and he
had to leave to find her. I wished him luck and finished my night with a double
vodka tonic before heading home.
Turns out Kit found Sarah at her house where she
confessed her love for him. I think she also puked. Not sure. Long story short,
it didn’t work out between us. It wasn’t all Crazy Sarah’s fault, but she was a big
part of it. I think after Kit and I parted ways, he gave another go-around with
Crazy Sarah. Last I checked, that didn’t work out either.
Crazy Sarah, if you’re out there reading this, I
salute you. To being ballsy, being a nut job, and most of all, to justifying that every single
thing I have done in the past has not been as bat-shit crazy as you are. Crazy
Sarah, this Bud’s for you.
