Sunday, November 06, 2005

They Really DO Make Cards for Everyone!

My birthday was a couple weeks ago, and I had a great night surrounded by my fantastic friends, family and everyone I really love who lives here in the ATL. Those who weren't here were missed, but most of my out-of-town compadres called or sent cards. I love cards for any reason but I especially love birthday cards. There's one card I received that is truly worth sharing. First I have to give you a little background.

You may or may not know that I dated The Bartender for about 8 minutes this past spring. I don't know how it happened but he fell head over heels for me in this teeny span of time. (OK, it was more like 2 or 3 months, but still, that's not enough time to get that crazy over The Real Me.) On numerous occasions during our brief relationship I had told The Bartender that we needed to slow it down. He never got it, and one day I realized the whole thing wasn't for me so I broke it off with him (which is another amusing entry altogether). Since the breakup back in June, he has been doing weird little stalker-like things. He has never actually physically shown up or made any dangerous threats - in which case I'd certainly call the police. Right now we get a lot of amusement out of his antics, but believe me if he ever shows up in person I *will* call the police.

It had been a while since I'd heard anything from The Bartender, so I thought it was all finished or that maybe he'd finally moved on. But Silly Liz, I should have known he wouldn't dream of letting my birthday go by without some sort of recognition. On that day he called me at work to tell me happy birthday [and to call me a control freak]. He also wanted to know if I'd gotten the card that he sent me from Vegas. (As soon as he said that, I thought 'Oh, Lord, is he SERIOUS? He sent me a card?') I told him I hadn't gotten it. He said, "Well, it's meant to be funny when you do read it." Then came the snippy control freak comment so I promptly hung up with him.

When I got home from work that afternoon, sure enough The Bartender's card was in with my mail. He had penned the return address as the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas (as if he lived there, not in Podunk Georgia). I opened the envelope. The outside of the card had some cartoon of a girl-rocker chick on it and she had a voice bubble over her head saying "I told Brad I wanted a serious relationship but I really just wanted someone to carry my guitar." Hm. Not so nice... but maybe the inside would be, I thought... so I opened it to see HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH!! printed in big bold font. Oh... my... God!! Um, Bitter, party of one? Your table's ready.

It didn't stop there, The Bartender had hand-written underneath 'Saw this card and thought it of you - it was funny, sad and ironic all at the same time. Played your birthday numbers and won enough to get our room comped.' (WHERE do I find these guys? SERIOUSLY!)

My roomie found a t-shirt that says "being a mega-bitch is just part of my charm" and he wanted to get it for me so that I could wear it into the bar one night. It would be funny, but I really don't want to provoke The Bartender and end up as 'that girl' on the news - you know, the one who was maimed or killed by a love-crazed psycho and all the next door neighbors of the guy are on camera saying "Such a nice boy, it's a shame. We had no idea he was like that!" But man, they really do make cards for every type of person, even the bitter and pathetic ones. Wow.