he is not your friend or 'secret lovers, that's what we are'

you think he is your friend, but he is not. it's hard to initially decipher that the enemy is upon you so you invite him in because he reminds you of goodness and things that are wholesome. you lock into a loving embrace with him. his presence puts you at the utmost level of comfort. you share a few laughs. you reminisce over the good times. you have joy, you have fun, you have seasons in the sun. but then, the clock strikes 12... and you realize that you have made a terrifying mistake. your first instinct is to run as fast and as far as your little legs will take you. your head is a mess. your mind is a shambles. he did this to you. he played you for a fool. and you. know. why. he is not your friend. in fact, he is your nemesis and he wants to see that you fail in every last of the evening's endeavors.

he made you think you were signing on for a few margaritas and maybe a dance or two on the bar. you laugh. you sing. you do in fact, dance a medley on said bar. and it was all so innocent...until that fateful turning point where he convinces you to abandon your chaperone - your faithful attendant who cleverly disguised himself as margarita mix for so long and only for your safety and well-being. therein lies your weakness, your first fateful mistake; you listened to him. you must never listen to him. you and tequila require supervision at all times. you're an adult and we think we can trust you. but in your moment of weakness, you forgot everything we professed. it's like you contracted temporary amnesia and overlooked the fact that he'll take full advantage and place you in compromising situations - repeatedly - over the course of a night.

at least you still have some wits about you because your thoughts were to run at the onslaught. so yes, your first job is indeed to run. you both literally and figuratively dash to the nearest and most appropriate receptacle. you renew your friendship with your "receptacle" of choice for what seems like hours when in reality, it's probably hours. (right, sharda?) finally you finish your renewal session and crawl to, well, anywhere else. fully clothed, you awaken the next morning to find that you feel ok. a little shaky, but ok. luckily your "friend" does not stick around. ah, but he will return. mark these words. happy hour will roll back around and you will invite him in as though nothing ever happened. yet again.

ok so, we've established something important here today. if you're feeling vulnerable and/or weak, you must avoid your mexican man at all costs. and then, stay away from the tequila.