Potpourri for $1,000, Alex

Already high and delirious on my birthday morning yesterday, I decided to risk some rejection and call Brat.

And rejection is exactly what I got.

When I called, the phone rang four times. As it was Sunday morning, I figured he was sitting around, watching NASCAR with the remote in one hand and the cell phone in the other (I’ve witnessed this phenomenon). After the fourth ring, it sounded like he picked up and immediately hung up. Now, I can make all kinds of excuses — VM was acting funky, he was on another line, his doorbell rang (the doorbell connects to his cell phone), etc. etc. — but I didn’t even come up with those until just now. At the time, I simply assumed it was my two-button trick — click on, click off … no annoying VM to listen to.

I waited about a minute or two to see if he would call back — the beauty of cell phones with Caller ID (which I know he has) is that you can just hit a button and call your most recent caller. He didn’t call.

So I text-messaged him: “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday? 29, baby!”

I haven’t heard a peep from his camp.

I’m somewhat confused by the lack of a polite “happy b-day” return message. Granted, I know I was kind of commanding him to wish me one, but knowing him, he’d forgotten about it anyway, and damn it, I have every right to want — and expect — to hear a good wish from him on my day. On his latest birthday, I had signed the guestbook on his website with a simple, “Happy 26th!” which actually prompted him to e-mail me and thank me for remembering his special day.

Was I so wrong to want the same in return?

Why, why, WHY do I bother?

How can he hold me so closely and push me away all at the same time?

I think it’s so appropriate that I gave him a doormat as a housewarming gift. Wipe your feet on me, walk on me and revel in the irony that I really did know what I was doing when I purchased that rug.

Fuck ‘im. Unless I hear something, anything from him soon, he is officially dead to me.

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