The problem with not having a problem, page 1

Originally posted by Scat
- what is the worst breakup, end, scar youve ever been delt?

It was going to be my first time.

I worked at the local Burger King. Fell for this girl hard. She went to another high school, but I saw her often enough by arranging my shifts to fit hers. She had quite the reputation. I heard the stories from friends and others at parties. She wasn't picky and she was drop dead gorgeous.

I didn't believe all of the exaggerated stories, like the banana incident. I got to know her quite well. We started to arrange shifts together. I drove her home a few times. We talked for like 4 hours at a time on the phone. I knew about the absent father who would always promise her dreams of living in the tropics, separated from a mother who was bitter about not getting the dream he had promised her. I knew about the brother she worshiped. And we really, really got along.

I first got to know her after she slept with another co-worker at a softball tournament. He bragged about his score to everyone who would listen, and then he quit BK and had nothing to do with her again. I was appalled. So I thought I was coming to her rescue.

As far as I knew, the whole year we were working together, talking almost every night and telling each other 'everything', she wasn�t seeing another guy. I found out to the contrary when she had started work at the local Kentucky. I went to see her and a guy I knew from my high school gave me the weirdest look, and I saw its reflection in her eyes.

She had just quit her job at BK because at the next year's softball tournament, I was to earn my first scar. Our arranging of the room assignments, with sympathetic friends, so that we could be alone with what I believed was a clear intention, led me to great expectations. It was going to be my first time.

The afternoon of the tournament there was a lunch picnic. Some guys were playing frisbee. I was talking to a co-worker and noticed her and my buddy's girlfriend laughing with them. I though nothing of it, but he didn�t look pleased and went to get his girlfriend despite the larger crowd of players that had formed. I gave her space.

That night I was looking for her. I found out she had gone to the room of those guys playing frisbee. I waited down the hall outside our room. He came out and went to the ice machine in shorts. I saw that his back had the same scratch marks I saw on the co-worker she slept with the year before.

Oh and the OTHER frisbee playing guy, who lived about a 3 hour drive away, came by the drive through window the next weekend looking for her.

Turns out she wasn't picky after all. Only when it came to me.

I know rejection.

[Edited on 7/18/2004 by Gools]