The Sleepover

A few weeks ago I posted about a friend who invited herself for a sleepover at my apartment after a gala.

Well.

It hit the fan.

A few weeks prior to the gala, she asked (over text message) if I wanted to go. She had a table. I accepted.

Then she asked if she could sleep on my couch.

I reluctantly texted, “kk.”

I hate it when people put me on the spot like that.

She asked what ‘kk’ meant. I answered that I meant ‘yes.’

So, the day before the gala, she texted me, “What are the logistics for tomorrow?”

I answered, “You can park on my block and we can go to the gala together.”

She started writing something about putting her car in a lot, yadda, yadda, yadda. I’m like, ok, do whatever.

Next day. Day of the event, she called on her way to New York. (She was driving in from New Jersey.)

I told her to come and park her car on my block. We’d take a cab to the gala. But since she was running late, she said she’d meet me at the venue.

“Ok. Whatever.”

So, we met at the venue.

We were having a fun time. The whole time, I’m still assumed she was staying over. Heck, I’d spent the whole day cleaning. She’d better stay over! (But you know what they say about assuming.)

But neither of us spoke about it. I just figured it was a done deal.

Toward the end of the evening, Yenta Hessa said to me, “I asked her if she was sleeping at your place and she said, ‘No’.”

“What? What do you mean she’s not staying over?”

I was confused.

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And happy at the same time.

Is that bad?

My instinct was to confront the friend. But something made my stay silent. I don’t know why.

I wanted to say, “What’s going on? I thought you were staying over.” But it wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

So the rest of the night passed and I didn’t say anything. And she didn’t say anything.

At the end of the night, I went home. And she went home. And we never said anything.

The next day I felt really bad about it. I called her. Left a message.

She called back, so she couldn’t be mad, could she?

She was.

She told me she was waiting for me to invite her over. That her bag was in her car.

I was nauseous.

Are you kidding me?

“What do you mean? You asked me if you could stay over. I said yes. I didn’t realize I had to invite you!”

“Well,” She said, “You only said ‘kk’. I gave you several opportunities all night long, to ask me to stay, and you didn’t.”

So what does that mean? Does that mean a communication over text message is not as binding as a verbal communication? Then, why the fuck did you text me bitch?

Personally, I think texting is stupid. But if that’s the mode of communication one chooses to correspond in, then I’ll go with it.

I had a guy I was dating tell me he loved me for the first time over text message. I was highly insulted. What the heck was I supposed to do with that information over text?

Anyway, I apologized, but I was secretly happier that she didn’t stay if she was going to friggin’ play head games with me.

F- that!

The shit hit the diva fan. And it’s on her.