A black fly, in your chardonnay.

So I have these two friends. Let’s call them Friend A and Friend B. No, let’s call them Alpha and Omega. I like that better. More dramatic.

Alpha is a girl. Omega is a boy. Alpha and Omega currently (and temporarily) live together in a huge loft downtown with a large roof and spectacular views. Alpha and Omega take advantage of this situation by throwing crazy summer rooftop parties.

Alpha and Omega threw one such party this weekend. Alpha and Omega’s parties start early in the evening, so that the lucky party-goers can watch the sun set over the west side of Manhattan. Alpha and Omega also realize that this means they will have a large group of very trashed people on their roof by like 9:00.

At this particular party, Alpha and I were feeling quite affectionate. At one point, Alpha says, “Oh P/O, what would I do without you? You’re my one uncomplicated friend.”

Cut to me trying to make out with her and being rebuffed in the interest of keeping things from getting complicated.

Cut to me and Omega naked, making out in the bathroom.

Cut to another reveler walking in on us, embarrassed.

Cut to me fucking Omega in his bedroom.

Cut to the next morning, Alpha, Omega, and I realizing that our little trio had, in fact, become...complicated.

I love irony. (And I’d so do it again.)