B is leaving (and I can do better?)

Last night
B's apartment, then Neutral.

First, an interlude: porn. no more, supposedly, but we'll see if that actually happens. Not that we will ever know for certain.

Food and drinks and more food galore!
Old friends, new friends, people who were once friends and never spoke again.

A bartender, who doesn't know that Melonball is a shot?

Not a word of a lie, dancing to some music that even I have never heard before, to be stopped short by a girl who wishes to inform me:
"Why are you with that guy? He does nothing for you, he isn't doing anything to get your attention, he doesn't seem to really want you. You can do so much better girl, you could have any guy in this bar. You deserve someone much classier. Don't settle, that's all I'm saying. Don't settle."

Once outside, leaving, "Kat?" or something like that. A girl, he has slept with of course (to be fair, who hasn't he slept with?) and a conversation, about something I can't care to be bothered with. Acknowledgement - you have moved up in the world, my friend.

More sleeping, not quite of the pure variety, and at the end of the day all that's left is that B is gone.

But today - because you want to know - ditched again, for a bunch of journalists. Bored, sitting on the couch, and about to walk to Starbucks, where in all likelihood I could find someone who would spend a blustry Sunday afternoon with me. But why bother, when all you want is an unbroken promise, a functional wardrobe and quiet conversation.

Traces of the truth have begun to emerge.