Last weekend, my friends and I were once again running behind on our pregame. It was approaching midnight before we finally decided to hit up Rí Rá in Uptown. Normally, we go straight to the second floor, but since it was supposed to be a low-key night (read: we could remember how many shots we had already taken), we decided to stay on the first level.
Before this night, I’d never really noticed the exposed brick, cozy fireplace or performance area — that really speaks to my past experiences at Rí Rá.
Just as I was settling into my “new” surroundings and decided to head to the bar for the first round, I saw one of my girlfriends chatting it up with another small group of people. One looked oddly familiar — it was her ex!
It’s bad enough social media makes it impossible to avoid seeing an ex-lover again. You would think that in a city of almost 800,000 people, it would be close to impossible to run into the one person you’re trying to avoid. Nope!
While most of us dread the day we run into our ex at a bar, my girlfriend — who is still stuck in love — was ecstatic. Before we’d left the house, she’d managed to finish an entire bottle of wine in less than 45 minutes. (Not that it was out of character to go a little overboard, but 45 minutes is rather aggressive.) Now I understood why. She knew she was going to see her ex that night.
Of course, I had to do my part and mingle between the two groups, who’d never met, to take as much focus off of the inevitable awkwardness.
It was clear my friend was nervous — she wasn’t paying a bit of attention to what or how much she was drinking. About an hour after we’d arrived, I walked her to the bathroom, where she immediately projectile-vomited into the toilet. When I suggested she drink some water, she grabbed my half-empty glass of cider ale, poured it down the sink and began filling it from the faucet. Yep, she’d officially gone off the deep end, and I knew there was no coming back.
By the time it was almost 2 a.m., we decided to head across the street to Qdoba for Mexican. Everyone ordered food to-go except my friend and her ex. They were sitting at a table, and my friend was hanging on to a cup of water for dear life.
Tell-tale signs you’re too drunk? When you can’t enjoy late-night food.
“She won’t be reliving a hookup tonight,” I said to myself as the rest of us said goodbye and walked out the door. And I was right. The next afternoon she texted me: “I threw up everywhere. Hahaha. It’s all on my pants.”
But my girl isn’t the only one who’s fallen victim to a case of the ex files — which is what I consider any embarrassing or terrifying encounter with a former lover. I’ve seen plenty of examples almost every weekend since I moved to Charlotte three years ago. (Not to mention, I’ve been that girl, too.)
The friend I referenced earlier is the drunk ex — the one who’s still in love and consumes way too much alcohol to help settle her nerves as she tries to play it cool with the person she was once vulnerable with. But she was a fairly tame example. Once, I saw a girl in the bathroom, barefoot, with mascara running down her cheeks as she’s bawled about seeing her ex make out with another girl. Her friends stood in a circle around her, looking dumbfounded because they had no idea what to say — or even what she was saying.
There’s also the clingy ex who still thinks the relationship is still viable. I have had many run-ins with this type, most recently on New Year’s Eve. Here I am thinking I’m going to have a salacious midnight kiss with a random hottie, and I find out just hours before going out that mutual friends invited my ex to the same venue. This type of ex usually thinks she is still the “plus one” just because both parties are single. When out at the bar, she is never more than a few feet away.
Then there’s the crazy ex — beware of this one. This ex brings Carrie Underwood’s song “Before He Cheats” to mind She’s usually the one causing a scene. She’s not afraid to argue in public. If the mood strikes her, she may even physically fight in a club or even damage property — after all, she “carved [her] name into his leather seats.”
Fellas, don’t get it twisted. These categories don’t just apply to women. There are plenty of men who fit these stereotypes, too.
What kind of ex do you have? Or more importantly, what kind of ex are you?
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