The Daring Devilish of Dated Damsels Dueling

Sometimes our lives twist and turn in ways we cannot possibly imagine and therefore cannot defensively ward off.

A week ago, my current girlfriend and my ex-girlfriend went to see 'Marie Antoinette' together, after which they planned to have dinner. I had nothing to do with this outing, as a matter of fact, I was unaware of its development until a day or two before it was - as Young Joc might say - goin' down.

Imagine this for a moment, okay? An old girlfriend chatting with a new girlfriend without moderation by me whatsoever. And I let it happen. Quite pointedly, I ended up encouraging it, which in hindsight seems like a foolish thing to have done.

I write about it here in the hallows of MySpace because this very site had quite a lot to do with how this all came to be. Y'see, both ladies are very kind souls, with little jealousy or ill-will toward most people. Therefore, upon their sporadic meetings within the last month, they became friendly (not friends, mind you, just friendly) quickly and comfortably.

This, frankly, is to be expected amongst women. Women generally hate each other. That's why you always see one of them haging out with, like ten guys. To the undiscerning eyes however, you'd think these two hypothetical girls were best friends. After a series of compliments on shoes and purses and hairdos, one girl will leave the earshot area, leaving the remaining girl to rip her to shreds on just about everything.

"Can you believe her? She's so two-faced. I just can't stand her. And who is she kidding with that dress? Does she know her fat ass is hanging out the back of it?"

Ouch.

The fact is, I'll never know how these two girls really feel about one another. Neither of them talked much about the encounter and I dared not ask. Added to which, they are both too respectful of my feelings to complain about each other to me.
Or maybe they really enjoyed each other's company. Who knows? *
How did this all happen, you ask? Well, the damndest thing... neither of the girls especially wanted to hang out with one another, but their politeness trapped both of them into a Thursday date.
It always starts with drinking, doesn't it?
Yes.
It does.
Both girls were drinking at a party and felt it acceptable to act like dawgs-4-life. They exchanged phone numbers in their drunken state and New Girlfriend texted a courtesy thank-you the next morning to Old Girlfriend.
Slightly confused by this action, Old Girlfriend flippantly invited New Girlfriend to be MySpace friends.
People, if you can't see the enormous social movement that this website has wrought on the world, you need to wake the fuck up. Months ago, I railed against the vagueness with which our society defines "hooking up". Is it kissing? Is it marriage? What is it? Well, hooking up ain't nothing compared to "friendship" versus "MySpace friendship".
The long-and-short of it is, Old Girlfriend doesn't pay too much attention to MySpace and has any number of people as friends on it. New Girlfriend has mostly close friends and thought it strange that Old Girlfriend thought their relationship was further along than it was.
Wanting to make the thing honest, New Girlfriend e-mailed Old Girlfriend with the suggestion that they hang out and get to know one another.
So what could Old Girlfriend do? Say no? That wouldn't be very nice.

And remember, no one is nicer than girls trying to put on an act.

And where the hell was I while all this was going on? I must have been playing Xbox or relacing my shoes or some damn thing, because it was only after I tried to make plans with New Girlfriend on Thursday that I was informed of her filled schedule... with one of my best friends.
Shit. What information do they have on me that could come back to haunt me?
Shit.

Shit.

So this is weird, right? Shouldn't I be able to veto this?

The best part of it all was on Thursday afternoon, when I talked to both of them seperately, they both tried subtley weaseling out of this whole mixed up situation.
"Adam, you're bothered by this aren't you? I'm gonna cancel. I'm just gonna say I can't come."
"Adam, does this wierd you out, because I can totally just come up with some reason not to go."
To both of them I just crossed my arms and smiled, like a hog in shit. How deep that shit would end up being, I still haven't found out.

Remember when you were younger and you came home from school to find your hidden stash of whatever you didn't want your parents to find, found? Whether it was porn or pot or food or slutty clothing or a corpse, we all had something hidden in our rooms we didn't want Mom and Dad to find. But Mom and Dad always found it and we, as good little monsters, would sit in our room waiting for the thunder to be brought down upon us.
Would I be grounded for a month? No allowance for a year? Extra chores? No more car? No more t.v.? No more flute lessons? Oh God, what did they have in store for me?
And most of the time, our parents did come up with a punishment, but every once in a while... they didn't.
Nothing.
Not that day, or the next or the next, or ever. But they knew. They found the pot, the mini-skirt, the dead body... they knew. And the waiting for the punishment was agony.

It's been a full week and neither girl has mentioned any details of their nearly five hours together.

I have lost complete control over what goes on around me.

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* In typing this, I can feel both girls chomping at the bit to defend themselves. Hackles up! Hackles up!