So you're probably wondering why I deleted the old blog. Here's the story (and I apologize to all who have read/heard it before- new stuff to come)
Okay, so I'm in Yonkers Irish guy starts talking to me right? All is going well- we're laughing, flirting, having a good time. He asks for my phone number to take me out. A suddenly, just afterward, his mood changes. He asks if I see the guys across the street, sitting in the car (we were outside for a smoke). Well, he says that I'm not safe since I've been seen with him and I'll PROBABLY GET SHOT IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITHIN THE NEXT TWO WEEKS. I'm all, "huh?" And he mumbles something about the IRA and them being old school.
So I say, "Uh, we should go inside." and I'm waving him in. Apparently, that was disrespectful cause he starts talking more crazy shit like, "You could use some redemption." and asks if I'm ready to die, saying I should die because I know too much (at one point he talked about someone he had to whack and asked if I was okay with that). I said, "Sure, whatever blows your hair back. We all gotta make a living," but inside, I'm freaking out cause he was reminding me of Max Cady
. And I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and drag KellyGirl with me.
I was like- we have to go NOW and explained to her what was going on. I broke down in tears because I've been in a very fragile emotional state lately (that's two other stories). So I ask her to check where he is in the bar -doesn't see him so I immediately went to the bartender and told him what happened and ask if some of the bouncers could walk me to a cab. Natch, they were more than gracious.
So four bouncers get me into the cab Secret Service style and I slump down in the seat so's not to get plugged in the head. Kelly has one foot in the cab and was yelling to her guy for him to come with. He's hesitating, she's trying to convince and I'm like, can we please fucking get the fuck out of this fucking place right fucing now?!?!?
When we got back to her place (4:30am), I called everyone I knew with a computer to see if it were possible to track down my address from just my first name and phone number. In the haste of the moment, I had my sister delete my blog as well. Trying to cover my tracks, ya know. And if Sprint were open, I would have changed my number as well.
Come to find out, it's a little more difficult than putting that info through a search engine. So I feel better.
Although, while watching Kill Bill part 2 Friday night, I had an anxiety attack when Bill shot the TV (If you saw it, you'd know why).