Note: This is absolute true story. You can't make this stuff up, folks.
8.2 million people live in the Baltimore-Washington metro area, yet somehow this sh*t happens.
A couple days ago, my most significant ex and I became Facebook friends. As is expected when you add a new friend, I went on his profile to browse around just to see the goingsons. I noticed that one of his friends had a VERY familiar name and face. I immediately clicked on the guy's name to get a better look. Since we weren't Facebook friends, I could only see a thumbnail picture. That wasn't enough for me to confirm if this was who I thought it was or not, so I added him as a friend. A few hours later, he accepted me. I went to the computer to view all of his pics. Even 10 years later, I knew at first glance that this was indeed the infamous and VERY memorable Mike, the first dude I ever did the nasty with.
I got my ex on the phone and asked how he knows Mike. He told me that he and Mike are good friends. In fact, he and his current dude and Mike and his current dude often go on double dates together. They spent Thanksgiving together as a group. Hell, they all went to the movies together just this past Friday. Like, they're all really good friends. I asked how exactly they all know each other. I was told that Mike and my ex's current are best friends -- and former lovers.
Remember, the Baltimore-Washington metro area is home to roughly 8.2 million people and somehow the guy I was with for the longest of them all hangs out regularly with the guy who unvirginized me. As if that weren't enough, the guy I first had sex with had a sexual relationship with the guy my ex is currently f*cking.
Can the world get any smaller and can this situation get any more awkward? Sure it can.
My ex is having this big bash in DC for his 30th birthday on the 28th of this month. I'm going to be there, his current guy is going to be there and Mike, the cherry popper, is going to be there. Fun times.
8.2 million motherf*ckers live here, but this crazy shit happens to me. Un-freaking-believeable.
Six degrees of seperation ain't got nothing on me.