Last night I went to a party. I wasn’t really in the mood but my friend BB insisted.
‘You cannot live your life on the couch, Violet, drinking, watching bad television, and eating doughnuts. It’s unhealthy. Besides, I need the company.’
I actually think life alone on my couch with alcohol is pretty cool but for the sake of friendship I said fine.
I thought it would be kinda nice to see him, and also, I was running out of whisky.
I brushed my hair, put on some eyeliner, underwear, a bit of perfume and off I went.
Things did not start well.
When I got to BB he was on his couch. Half dressed, completely wrecked, reeking of cheap whisky and stale cigarettes.
I should’ve gone straight home. Instead, I tapped my fingers while he took a shower, combed the tangles out his hair and sobered up. I sat with his cats whom I am highly allergic to, and waited.
Waited, like Larry the Fuck.
We went to the party. I knew it was a bad idea.
BB hadn’t sobered up at all and he was terrible company. The music sucked, everyone was badly dressed, there was no food, the whisky was not single malt and I spent most of the time redoing my lipstick in the bathroom.
Where I did, in fact, meet a very lovely woman but that is another story.
The thing is, I had a cosy couch waiting for me at home.
Why didn’t I just say no to the party?
I had this thing of guilt, of ‘Oh shame, my friend needs me,’ when he very definitely didn’t.
I need to learn to say no, clearly and confidently. To a whole lot of things. To BB, to doing things that I don’t want to do, to just standing up for myself.
And know that it is absolutely fine to stay at home. And watch television. And be cosy. And tipsy. And alone.
Also that it is unacceptable to scrawl on bathroom mirrors in lipstick, even when it is such fun and the only thing to do.
I’m sorry I did that.
But mostly because I have to go and buy a new lipstick.
Pic from Rachelle Briton, thank you.