A few months later I invited several people out to open mic night at the comedy club Helium over on Sansom street.
The only people who showed up were Michelle (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – Nice to Meet You)and Devon. I was fine with that. Me and two good-looking women at a club. We get a table and are having drinks. How it works on an open mic night at a comedy club is this: Five bucks cover to get in. The best amateur comics come out first. Also if they are there every week to do stand up they are higher in the rotation. If you are new you’ll go on last and many people leave by then because as the night goes on the comedians suck more. Dave Chappelle actually enjoys this. He likes to stay to the very end to watch as the amateurs slowly die on stage or freeze up or whatever. He sees their failure as funny. I on the other hand hate it after about an hour.
So after about an hour, Michelle was fed up and so was I. Also, Michelle doesn’t like sharing her time with me with other women. (Even though we’re broken up) She went to go smoke outside. I told her I’d join her. We agreed that the show was starting to suck, and we should get Devon and go somewhere else and get some food and drinks. We go back in and sit back at the table. I put it to Devon that we are fed up and we should all go somewhere else and hang and chat.
Now when I put out the invite on Facebook it was to many people. So it was a group event. Only two showed up. It wasn’t like I asked Devon out and then brought Michelle to tag along. But I guess that’s how Devon took it. All she had to do was get up, and leave with us and it would have been a great night. We saw some decent comedy. The tickets were only five dollars a piece and now we could move on.
But that was not to be. Devon insisted on staying. I told her it was only going downhill in regard to talent, and that she should leave with us and get some food.
Nope. She said she was staying and seemed pissed. I gave her one last chance and then we left. Devon decided she would rather be a martyr and be jealous, than go out and hang with some cool people who weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.
So Michelle and I went over to Smith & Wolensky’s at the Rittenhouse Hotel. (Now called Scarpetta. That’s where I would later reconnected with evil Sarika) We got some wine, and smoked cigarettes on the balcony. Good times. I walked Michelle home and that was it.
A few days later I get a text from Devon. “I guess we should talk.”
(I wait a bit)
“About what?” I text back.
“What happened the other night.”
“Nothing happened. The show sucked. We wanted to leave. We wanted you to come with us, and you insisted on staying.”
“I want my keys back.”
“Fine come pick them up.”
“Mail them to me.”
The next day I taped the keys to a piece of cardboard and put them in an envelope and took it down to the mail room where I worked. I told the guy it was swag for a client and he stamped it with postage. I didn’t pay for the envelope of the postage. Devon wasn’t worth it.
Three years later I was sitting in McGlinchey’s with Carol, (Carol – 2014 to 2016 – There’s No Fun in Dysfunction) when I get a text from an unknown number. It says something to the effect that this person felt we ended things on a sour note and wanted to reconnect with me. I had no idea who it was, it had been three years! I gently responded as to get them to reveal who they were, and I find out it’s Devon. I’m not one to hold a grudge but apparently Devon is really good at that. But I guess when you have run out of friends you crawl back to anyone that will talk to you.
I agree to meet with her. I haven’t even thought of writing Phicklephilly yet, so i did it from the heart and not for the blog. (Like in most cases when it comes to head cases!)
We are at the bar at Square 1682. She’s the same old Devon, but three years older. Now in her forties, she has at last found a decent job and a better apartment and is doing well. She wants me to take her to events around the city and things involving the arts. But she makes it clear she isn’t interested in dating me. If she had gotten any better I would have considered it, but not really. I ask her what she is looking for and she responds with the following: “I am looking for a tall dark western European man to have a relationship with.”
Think of how juvenile that is. that sounds like a teenage girl’s dream. Devon hasn’t changed or evolved at all. She’s still stuck in the same place because she never tried to grow or change as a person. You can’t just cut people off for three years and expect them to just come back into your life like nothing’s happened. A lot can happen in three years. But apparently not much has changed for Devon.
I don’t really have any use for Devon now. Especially after a three-year gap. I don’t have anything in common with her except our mutual friend Marigold. So she tried to reconnect to me and even though she has decided after three years she is no longer angry at me, I have no reason to hang out with her. She just seems like another aging crazy chick.
I saw her once more last Christmas when Marigold came to visit with all three of her wild kids. Devon was actually pretty good with the children. Too bad she never got married or any of her own.
Well, she still has her cat.
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