By Wednesday afternoon, I was feeling rather anxious.

What if this plan of mine doesn't work? I wondered, hoping the Banshee would have insightful words of wisdom.

Then I guess you're stuck with short-short man for all of eternity, She snarked back.

Me? You're in this too, you know. In fact, this is your fault to begin with! I argued.

MY fault? How is this MY fault?

Because if you wouldn't have been so damn insistent about getting laid, then I wouldn't be dealing with this! I yelled back. At myself. Mentally. I'm full of all kinds of healthy relationships at this point.

Well if you would've slept with Peter like I told you to, my need to get laid would've been fulfilled, by a much LARGER man, I'm sure. I mean, seriously. What you did with Johnny? That doesn't even count.

I'd like to think she was right, but if you mount it, ya' gotta count it. Plain and simple.

Anyway, I got home just after 5 from work, and immediately called Johnny. He didn't answer.

"Hi Johnny, It's me, just calling to see when you were going to call me so we can go out tonight! Can't wait to find out where we're going!" I said chipperly into his voice mail.

5:45, I still hadn't heard from him. Maybe he's not going to call! Maybe I won't have to act like a crazy needy bitch after all! Just to make sure, I waited until 6 o'clock to call him again. This time, I was a little less chipper.

"Hi Johnny. I thought we were going out tonight. If not, that's cool, just let me know so I can, oh, I dunno. EAT or something on my own because I'm kind of hungry, and I get really cranky when I'm hungry. I don't want you to see me cranky just yet! Okay, bye, see ya soon!" I said, ending the call with a big "mwah!" kiss to seal the deal.

At 6:30 my phone rang. It was Johnny. I was floored. The Banshee was dumbfounded. The minute I answered the phone, I could hear he was out somewhere and hoped that meant this was the "oh sorry, can't make it, I'll call you later" phone call.

Nope.

It was the I've been playing golf and drinking most of the day and am horny and want to see you phone call.

"Hey babe!" he shouted over the roar of the bar in the background.

"Where are you?"

"I'm still out, playing golf," he said. What golf course sounds like a bar? The country club perhaps. I couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" he asked, upon hearing me laugh.

"You're not playing golf, you're at a bar. I don't care that you're at a bar, so why not just tell me you're at a bar?" I said, trying to balance my tone to make it sound like I kind of cared, but didn't want him to think that. Truthfully, I was hoping he'd stay at the bar and never call me ever again.

"You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad."

"You are so cool. This is why I like you so much," he said.

Fuck. Needed to change tactics.

"So when are you picking me up?"

"Oh, well, see, that's why I'm calling. I'm a little drunk right now, and I really don't think I should drive. And I'm having a really good time with my friends," he started, and I cut him off.

"Johnny, if you don't want to see me tonight, that's fine, just say so." I can be such a hypocrite.

"But I DO want to see you. Can I come over later?"

Did he seriously just ask for a booty call?"

"Well, I may meet up with some friends if we're not going to catch up, so maybe we'll just call it a night, okay?"

"But that's perfect! You go out with your friends, I'll stay out with mine, I'll come by your place later, we'll have some fun."

Now I was annoyed.

"Look, really. It's okay. Why don't you just call me tomorrow, and you do your thing, I'll do mine. okay? I'm gonna go. There's no point for me to try and rationalize with a drunk person," I said, hoping he'd be somewhat like Joe and take offense at my comment.

"I'll call you later," he said and hung up the phone.

I was glad we weren't going out, but a bit mad that this wasn't going how I planned. I didn't really expect to hear from him later.

I made some dinner, got cozy with a Netflix (don't remember what it was, but I remember it was some epic, terribly long, terribly serious movie) and with about 45 minutes left in the movie, Johnny called.

"Hey baby! I thought you were going out!" He said. I immediately suspected he was downstairs just outside my apartment and I panicked.

"Where are you?"

"I'm on my way over now, just leaving the golf course."

"Johnny, don't come over," I said sternly.

"What? Don't be ridiculous. You know you want another taste of me! I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"Johnny, NO! I don't want you to come," I said, but it was too late, he had already disconnected the call.

FUCK FUCK FUCKETY FUCK.

30 minutes later. The doorbell rings. It's him. I was tempted to ignore it, but as I stood there trying to decide what to do, he pushed it again and held it for ever. Great. I can't listen to that all night, just go downstairs and deal with the drunk fucker, The Banshee insisted.

I went downstairs. I was hoping to not let him come in. When he saw me, he held up 2 Coors lite cans and I could hear a faint "WOOOOOOO!" through the glass of the vestibule.

Awesome. The Banshee commented.

As soon as I opened the door, he flung himself around me and started kissing my neck. I tried to push him away, and he was all like, "Baby, what's the matter?"

My building's super walked by on the way to the rental office and I was mortified. It was bad enough they knew what a disaster my marriage to Joe was, I didn't need them thinking I was some kind of floozy. I ushered Johnny into the elevator and up to my place.

Once inside, he tried to kiss me and I was very firm. Ironically, so was he.

"No, Johnny," I said pulling away from him. "You can't just come over here and expect me to stop what I'm doing because you're drunk and horny. I'm in the middle of a movie and I want to watch it."

"That's okay, I'll watch it with you," he said, pulling me to the couch.

I turned the movie back on, and Johnny literally kept trying to get into my pants. I kept smacking his hand, he kept trying to force me to kiss him and finally after like 15 minutes of this game, I unleashed on him.

"Dude! Knock it the fuck off, okay? I didn't invite you here! I didn't ask you to come here! I am in no mood to deal with some drunk asshole who thinks I'm nothing but a late night booty call. So if you don't mind, get the fuck out of my apartment and never call me again!"

He stood up and walked over to the dining room table where he had set down the 2 Coors Lite cans, which incidentally, happened to be right next to my divorce summons that I oh so conveniently left lying around in a very visible location.

I saw him look down and pause for a second and look back at me.

"You're crazy, you know that?" He said, looking at me through squinted eyes. "You know what your problem is? You're not ready to date. You're not over your divorce, or..." He paused to look down at the paper, "Joe. Yeah, you're not mad at me, you're not over Joe."

"Whatever you want to think, Johnny, I'm not going to argue with you," I said staring at him with my hands on my hips, as I was now standing 2 feet away from him and snatched back my divorce summons, acting as if I never meant for him to see it.

"Yeah, you need to get some help because you're not dealing with things very well. You need to take some time, be by yourself and figure your shit out because Lady, you've got some baggage."

Now I was a bit offended. Yeah, it was probably true, but I didn't need this guy to point it out to me.

"Johnny, you need to leave," I said, opening the front door.

"No problem," he said as he whisked is way past me.

I closed the door, leaned against it and smiled. I was damn sure that boy wouldn't be calling me again.

Hallelujah, sisters can I get an amen? Oh, and a bigger penis next time? Um, yeah....