As we approached, I said "We're not stopping here, are we?" My family all said, in a hungry tone "YES!"
As I walked in, I prayed "Please don't let it be the same people working...please, please please." And then I saw their smiling faces. Fuck.
As I ordered, a smirk came across the guy's face. He remembered me!
"So how's your boyfriend feeling today?"
"Which one?" (I actually had two boys with me, that night. One, a very drunk, very ignorant son of a bitch, who was lucky I didn't beat his ass.)
"The tall dark and handsome one."
*sigh*
"He's feeling fine. Those Irish boys are real troopers, ya know."
I was TRYING not to think about it, thank you! I was doing so well. But now I wonder what it would take, or if it's even possible. I want to be a better person. I do. I want to be the kind of person that doesn't have this crap happen to her.
Obsession might be the word. A very unhealthy obsession.