**Ok, THIS is why I don't internet date anymore. I can't even believe this person exists. Thanks to my guest blogger for taking one for the team for this story!**
I had just joined the Internet dating world 3 months prior when I pimped myself out on a free dating site. Why would I want to pay money for something I could do for free? I should've been tipped off when the site had "Do you own a car?" as one of their standard questions. As well as "Do you use drugs?" The number of contacts I received from men with unmentionable advances significantly outnumbered the few decent once in my inbox. I was somewhat creeped out by this so I joined the site that states that they've had more marriages than any other dating site. I figured that if I had to pay for this, surely it has to have a better crop of men to choose from. Right?!
My first actual date from this site was Bachelor #1. Bachelor #1 was a couple of years younger than me, an investment banker, and seemed to have goals. We chatted back and forth for a couple of days. After the 3rd or 4th day he asked if I wanted to go out. I stalled. He then asked would it hurt to meet for a drink? I was hesitant to date someone younger but I quickly decided that maybe I wouldn't find my soul mate if I didn't explore this opportunity. I agreed to meet him. He wanted to go NOW. Stupid me, I called up my mom and asked her if she could watch my kiddo so I could go on a date with random Mr. Sweatpants from the Internet. Mom said yes. (Thanks Mom.)
I drive to meet my dating game contestant at a local bar. I go inside, look around, and am greeted by a guy who stands up from the table in SWEATPANTS. Who wears sweatpants on a first date?! Did I end up on MadTV's Lowered Expectations? Should I have worn Pajama Jeans? Clearly I was overdressed by wearing regular jeans. Remind you, I'd only been back in the dating world for 3 months so I decided to roll with it and sat down.
I ordered my beer and proceeded to listen to this guy talk on and on about himself. He was an investment banker, had the blue Audi parked right out front, was part landlord to the bar, just got the blue Audi parked out front, had originally gone to theology school but changed to business, and, oh, did I see the blue Audi out front?! As soon as I was about to say that I could give a rat's ass about that blue Audi Mr. Sweatpants informed me he was only buying me my first drink. Uh, okay. Awkward. I was planning to pay for myself anyway.
We start to talk about experiences with dating people from the site. I asked how many dates he'd been on. "Oh, probably at least a hundred." Looking back, I don't know why I didn't run then.
Less than an hour into this date, I am bluntly informed that Mr. Sweatpants does not believe in having sex until at least six or seven months into the relationship. How the conversation got to this point I don't know. I had just started another beer at this moment and decide not to come up for air. He took that as a sign to continue and rambled on. Apparently sex before six or seven months is too much of an emotional thing for him. He also didn't want to have an unplanned pregnancy. BUT, and he continues to talk while I continue to drink, "the Bible says we can pleasure our partners so how do you feel about oral?" As if it is going to seal the deal he rambles "by the way I like to give." WTF?!!
The moments after that are a bit blurry not because of my beer but because I was mentally scarred by what had just happened. I mumbled something about the time of the month, said I needed to go get my kid, please don't contact me, and paid my bill. I called my friends and listened to them laugh hysterically about what just happened to me. Maybe the sweatpants were "easy access" for something casual and worn for a reason. Barf.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
YOU'RE SINGLE BECAUSE YOU USE PET NAMES
And I thought that because I hadn't been on a date since Houdini left me to fend for myself for 3 hours that I wouldn't have blog material. So painfully wrong.
This is somewhat of an extension of Jill's blog, "You yell at girls on the street," but a little bit more subtle. Yes, there's the whistler, the catcaller, and the general obnoxious honker, but sometimes you find quieter versions of the same thing.
Today I decided to leave my current quarters for lunch because I'd been very good about saving food money for the past few days, and thought I'd treat myself to a non-home lunch, all $10 of it. Being the complete lazy ass that I am, I threw on some yoga pants, my Wipeout tshirt, flip flops, and my glasses. While I was wearing makeup, it was just mascara so I wouldn't offend strangers with my blonde eyelashes.
I drove a few blocks to Beverly Dr., where there is every restaurant under the sun from Subway to Ruth's Chris. I sat outside eating a delicious gyro plate, watching fancy people walk by with their tiny dogs and $1000 purses. After lunch, I decided to use a little more of my free 2 hour parking to take a little walk and look in the store windows of places I'm too afraid to go in for fear of being kicked out because I'm poor. Passing a jewelry store, there was a security guard out front. As I passed (remember the outfit here), he goes:
"Hey beautiful, how YOU doin?"
I gave a polite "Hi" and walked quickly away. I can't express to you why I get so offended when people call me "baby," "beautiful," "sweetheart," "gorgeous," etc. While these are things I would like to hear from a boyfriend (after the requisite amount of dating - don't start this shit up on the first date), the fact that you think you can just roll up and call me whatever the hell you want pisses me off.
I've had guys in bars approach me with "Hey baby." IMMEDIATE turn off. Had they just come up and said hi, and introduced themself, I might have been more obliging. I'm not your baby. I'm not some object that you have the privilege of staring at. I find it SO demeaning. You don't KNOW me. How can you already give me a pet name? Especially one that I find so horrifyingly offensive. Do other girls respond to this? Does "Hey beautiful" make you feel good about yourself and in turn you pay attention to said guy? Am I really off the mark here?
To me the use of a pet name as a pick up line either screams "you are something I want to show off to my friends and I don't care about any other part of you other than your looks" or "I'm a huge sleaze and will probably cheat on you and treat you like crap." I'm probably smarter than your ass, you sissy bitch. No I'm not going to make you a sandwich, shithead. Make your own goddamned sandwich.
While I have a firey hatred for pet names outside of a relationship, I can't say I haven't been a party to the use of pet names with boyfriends. Generally they're a mockery of real pet names, like "Sex Muffin" and "Love Biscuit," and only used for the sake of humor. But once I did receive a note from a boyfriend after he left for work that said "Have a good day, beautiful." I kept it til we broke up.
But really, guys. There's nothing creepier than someone you don't know calling you "baby." It's like they're oozing cologne and sleaze all at the same time. It's so...Jersey Shore. Ugh. Now I'm going to have nightmares of big guidos calling me baby on the street. And seriously, I understand such comments are often likely when I'm dressed up to go out, but if it looks like I made an EFFORT to be under the radar and unattractive (gym clothes and glasses...), at least respect my attempt at looking like crap.
This is somewhat of an extension of Jill's blog, "You yell at girls on the street," but a little bit more subtle. Yes, there's the whistler, the catcaller, and the general obnoxious honker, but sometimes you find quieter versions of the same thing.
Today I decided to leave my current quarters for lunch because I'd been very good about saving food money for the past few days, and thought I'd treat myself to a non-home lunch, all $10 of it. Being the complete lazy ass that I am, I threw on some yoga pants, my Wipeout tshirt, flip flops, and my glasses. While I was wearing makeup, it was just mascara so I wouldn't offend strangers with my blonde eyelashes.
I drove a few blocks to Beverly Dr., where there is every restaurant under the sun from Subway to Ruth's Chris. I sat outside eating a delicious gyro plate, watching fancy people walk by with their tiny dogs and $1000 purses. After lunch, I decided to use a little more of my free 2 hour parking to take a little walk and look in the store windows of places I'm too afraid to go in for fear of being kicked out because I'm poor. Passing a jewelry store, there was a security guard out front. As I passed (remember the outfit here), he goes:
"Hey beautiful, how YOU doin?"
I gave a polite "Hi" and walked quickly away. I can't express to you why I get so offended when people call me "baby," "beautiful," "sweetheart," "gorgeous," etc. While these are things I would like to hear from a boyfriend (after the requisite amount of dating - don't start this shit up on the first date), the fact that you think you can just roll up and call me whatever the hell you want pisses me off.
I've had guys in bars approach me with "Hey baby." IMMEDIATE turn off. Had they just come up and said hi, and introduced themself, I might have been more obliging. I'm not your baby. I'm not some object that you have the privilege of staring at. I find it SO demeaning. You don't KNOW me. How can you already give me a pet name? Especially one that I find so horrifyingly offensive. Do other girls respond to this? Does "Hey beautiful" make you feel good about yourself and in turn you pay attention to said guy? Am I really off the mark here?
To me the use of a pet name as a pick up line either screams "you are something I want to show off to my friends and I don't care about any other part of you other than your looks" or "I'm a huge sleaze and will probably cheat on you and treat you like crap." I'm probably smarter than your ass, you sissy bitch. No I'm not going to make you a sandwich, shithead. Make your own goddamned sandwich.
While I have a firey hatred for pet names outside of a relationship, I can't say I haven't been a party to the use of pet names with boyfriends. Generally they're a mockery of real pet names, like "Sex Muffin" and "Love Biscuit," and only used for the sake of humor. But once I did receive a note from a boyfriend after he left for work that said "Have a good day, beautiful." I kept it til we broke up.
But really, guys. There's nothing creepier than someone you don't know calling you "baby." It's like they're oozing cologne and sleaze all at the same time. It's so...Jersey Shore. Ugh. Now I'm going to have nightmares of big guidos calling me baby on the street. And seriously, I understand such comments are often likely when I'm dressed up to go out, but if it looks like I made an EFFORT to be under the radar and unattractive (gym clothes and glasses...), at least respect my attempt at looking like crap.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
YOU'RE SINGLE BECAUSE YOU'RE ON THE INTERNET
I came into the singles scene a little later than most. Having had back-to-back boyfriends for nearly 8 years, with the short span of 6 months of self-inflicted singledom, I never really did the whole "dating" thing. Come 2008, I get dumped, and I have to start all over. But from where?
After 6-9 months of making a valiant effort of getting over my shockingly unforeseen dumpage, I decided to see what it was like dating. I worked in a terrible office in a terrible county in Texas, so it was obvious I was going to need to seek mates outside of work. A few nights downtown with friends turned into nothing, and someone suggested the internet.
At the time I was horrified. Now, I understand why I was horrified. I, an attractive, educated female in her mid-twenties shouldn't need to go on the internet to find a date. I should be able to find one in the real world. Sadly, this was not occurring and in order to take my mind off loneliness and job dissatisfaction, I hopped aboard the internet dating train and held on for dear life.
First was Match. My initial reaction was that everyone on there had some sort of sociopathic tendency or they were an outright serial killer. When I met the first guy I actually began messaging, I was pleased to find out this was not the case. He was perfectly normal. He was just...boring.
Three years and 4 dating sites later, I have come to realize that this is the main problem. Everyone I have met (which is the small number of about 5-6 in 3 different cities combined) has been reasonably attractive, did not appear to have any startling psychotic tendencies, and were in most respects completely normal. Here, is what I've found, is WHY they were on the internet:
1) YOU ARE PAINFULLY BORING - I know I may have a bit of a large personality, and this may come as a shock to new people, but never did I anticipate that I had more personality than everyone on the internet combined. THE VAST MAJORITY of my internet dates have been completely incapable of holding a conversation with me, which unfortunately requires intelligence and a quick wit. Most of them find themselves staring in awe as I simply talk the night away because they won't fucking say anything. Thinking the date went badly, I go home, then immediately get texts from these characters who think I'm hilarious and amazing. Sorry buddy, you were about as interesting as a couch cushion, which would probably also find me hilarious and amazing because they can't speak or move.
The worst part is all of these idiots have hilarious profiles. I read them and think "Oh, this guy's funny! We'll get along great!" Apparently their humor is only available in print, or they paid someone else to write their profile. And it's not like I don't give them a chance. I get tired of talking. My food is getting cold. I ask you questions about your life. THIS IS YOUR TIME TO SHINE, ASSHAT. No, one sentence answers is what I get. Finally I just get fed up and fill the silence with whatever bullshit comes out of my mouth, because at that point I couldn't care less what this boring ass motherfucker thinks about me.
2) YOU ARE DESPERATELY UNATTRACTIVE - I just want to clear something up. The internet is not a free-for-all. Just because someone is on the internet, doesn't mean that he or she is interested in EVERYONE on the internet. Nor does it mean we're desperate and have completely lost all ability to differentiate between "our level" of attraction, intelligence, and age. DAILY I would get "winks" from 45-year-old men when I was 26. NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. My profile says what age range, and at that time I think I cut it off at 33. I DON'T GIVE A 12-YEAR WINDOW BUDDY, or should I say DAD. You creepy old fucker, wanting to date girls in their 20s.
I mentioned I only went on about 6 dates in the past 3 years in 3 cities. That's because 99.9% of the people who messaged me were the ugliest, stupidest pieces of shit I've ever seen. No, I don't want to date your 300lb ass, I don't care if we have 800 things in common. And if you have a picture of yourself with no shirt on taken in the mirror, WE ARE NOT COMPATIBLE. Same goes with "hi how r u." Does anyone notice that a) that's a QUESTION and b) it's SERIOUSLY LACKING in punctuation and spelling, and it's ONLY FOUR WORDS. Every one of those emails got deleted.
No, I don't like the pose of you on a tractor. No, I don't want to long-distance date you in Minneapolis. No, I don't enjoy NASCAR. No, you shouldn't use the same creepy school-like posed photo of you on Match that you use on your Russian bride search site. No, I don't want to date someone who has 3 different baby mommas and has never been married.
3) YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DATE - Unlike the boring guy who planned very nice dates, which included lunch at a farmer's market as our first meetup, then OCEAN KAYAKING as our second (which was the ONLY reason I went - I used him for kayaking even though I had no intention of ever talking to him again), a couple of the others were completely clueless. One guy told me to meet him at his house and we'd walk to close bars there, only to NEVER LEAVE his apartment, watch a Family Guy on his computer because he didn't OWN A TV, and constantly suffer interruptions from his two large dogs who couldn't behave themselves if they were asleep.
Why I came back, I'm not sure. I think I was bored. But in the 4 times we hung out, only ONCE did we leave his apartment, to go to a bar for ONE DRINK before it closed, at which point he got semi-belligerent and I thought he was going to get in a fight with someone. All I wanted was to go OUT TO EAT. Just a fucking BURGER even. But no, he wanted to save money so he goes and buys steaks at Trader Joes and cooks them on his stove in a skillet. Which we ate while watching something saved on his computer, still suffering constant interruptions from his dogs. Often times I felt like I wasn't even THERE, the dogs required so much discipline and attention. I could've walked out and he'd have never noticed.
In fact, the first time I went there, the reason we never made it out to the bar was because one of his stupid ass dogs pissed the carpet because he was so excited a new person was there. This resulted in Dr. CleanFreak spending OVER AN HOUR cleaning the carpet, washing the pee-towel, doing some laundry that he was wearing at the time, and then spending an inordinately long time telling the dog that what he did was bad, as if he'd even be able to connect his behavior an hour before to the lecture he was now receiving.
A couple of months ago this guy reached out to me about hanging out. We had sort of mutually stopped texting each other months prior. I had to spell it out for him. When I said "I didn't feel a connection" I meant "I DON'T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH YOU, BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO DATE YOU." His response was "I wasn't ready for a connection." NO ASSHAT, THAT'S NOT WHY. You're not putting out some magical vibe now that will interest me. I didn't like you then and I don't like you now.
**This post is subject to the understanding that many relationships HAVE formed via the internet, and for others I don't necessarily knock it as a way of meeting a mate. Especially for people looking for specific things, like Jewish singles or Christian singles, it seems to have worked well for those friends. But regular old dating for a person like me? Nope. Internet, you lose.
After 6-9 months of making a valiant effort of getting over my shockingly unforeseen dumpage, I decided to see what it was like dating. I worked in a terrible office in a terrible county in Texas, so it was obvious I was going to need to seek mates outside of work. A few nights downtown with friends turned into nothing, and someone suggested the internet.
At the time I was horrified. Now, I understand why I was horrified. I, an attractive, educated female in her mid-twenties shouldn't need to go on the internet to find a date. I should be able to find one in the real world. Sadly, this was not occurring and in order to take my mind off loneliness and job dissatisfaction, I hopped aboard the internet dating train and held on for dear life.
First was Match. My initial reaction was that everyone on there had some sort of sociopathic tendency or they were an outright serial killer. When I met the first guy I actually began messaging, I was pleased to find out this was not the case. He was perfectly normal. He was just...boring.
Three years and 4 dating sites later, I have come to realize that this is the main problem. Everyone I have met (which is the small number of about 5-6 in 3 different cities combined) has been reasonably attractive, did not appear to have any startling psychotic tendencies, and were in most respects completely normal. Here, is what I've found, is WHY they were on the internet:
1) YOU ARE PAINFULLY BORING - I know I may have a bit of a large personality, and this may come as a shock to new people, but never did I anticipate that I had more personality than everyone on the internet combined. THE VAST MAJORITY of my internet dates have been completely incapable of holding a conversation with me, which unfortunately requires intelligence and a quick wit. Most of them find themselves staring in awe as I simply talk the night away because they won't fucking say anything. Thinking the date went badly, I go home, then immediately get texts from these characters who think I'm hilarious and amazing. Sorry buddy, you were about as interesting as a couch cushion, which would probably also find me hilarious and amazing because they can't speak or move.
The worst part is all of these idiots have hilarious profiles. I read them and think "Oh, this guy's funny! We'll get along great!" Apparently their humor is only available in print, or they paid someone else to write their profile. And it's not like I don't give them a chance. I get tired of talking. My food is getting cold. I ask you questions about your life. THIS IS YOUR TIME TO SHINE, ASSHAT. No, one sentence answers is what I get. Finally I just get fed up and fill the silence with whatever bullshit comes out of my mouth, because at that point I couldn't care less what this boring ass motherfucker thinks about me.
2) YOU ARE DESPERATELY UNATTRACTIVE - I just want to clear something up. The internet is not a free-for-all. Just because someone is on the internet, doesn't mean that he or she is interested in EVERYONE on the internet. Nor does it mean we're desperate and have completely lost all ability to differentiate between "our level" of attraction, intelligence, and age. DAILY I would get "winks" from 45-year-old men when I was 26. NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. My profile says what age range, and at that time I think I cut it off at 33. I DON'T GIVE A 12-YEAR WINDOW BUDDY, or should I say DAD. You creepy old fucker, wanting to date girls in their 20s.
I mentioned I only went on about 6 dates in the past 3 years in 3 cities. That's because 99.9% of the people who messaged me were the ugliest, stupidest pieces of shit I've ever seen. No, I don't want to date your 300lb ass, I don't care if we have 800 things in common. And if you have a picture of yourself with no shirt on taken in the mirror, WE ARE NOT COMPATIBLE. Same goes with "hi how r u." Does anyone notice that a) that's a QUESTION and b) it's SERIOUSLY LACKING in punctuation and spelling, and it's ONLY FOUR WORDS. Every one of those emails got deleted.
No, I don't like the pose of you on a tractor. No, I don't want to long-distance date you in Minneapolis. No, I don't enjoy NASCAR. No, you shouldn't use the same creepy school-like posed photo of you on Match that you use on your Russian bride search site. No, I don't want to date someone who has 3 different baby mommas and has never been married.
3) YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DATE - Unlike the boring guy who planned very nice dates, which included lunch at a farmer's market as our first meetup, then OCEAN KAYAKING as our second (which was the ONLY reason I went - I used him for kayaking even though I had no intention of ever talking to him again), a couple of the others were completely clueless. One guy told me to meet him at his house and we'd walk to close bars there, only to NEVER LEAVE his apartment, watch a Family Guy on his computer because he didn't OWN A TV, and constantly suffer interruptions from his two large dogs who couldn't behave themselves if they were asleep.
Why I came back, I'm not sure. I think I was bored. But in the 4 times we hung out, only ONCE did we leave his apartment, to go to a bar for ONE DRINK before it closed, at which point he got semi-belligerent and I thought he was going to get in a fight with someone. All I wanted was to go OUT TO EAT. Just a fucking BURGER even. But no, he wanted to save money so he goes and buys steaks at Trader Joes and cooks them on his stove in a skillet. Which we ate while watching something saved on his computer, still suffering constant interruptions from his dogs. Often times I felt like I wasn't even THERE, the dogs required so much discipline and attention. I could've walked out and he'd have never noticed.
In fact, the first time I went there, the reason we never made it out to the bar was because one of his stupid ass dogs pissed the carpet because he was so excited a new person was there. This resulted in Dr. CleanFreak spending OVER AN HOUR cleaning the carpet, washing the pee-towel, doing some laundry that he was wearing at the time, and then spending an inordinately long time telling the dog that what he did was bad, as if he'd even be able to connect his behavior an hour before to the lecture he was now receiving.
A couple of months ago this guy reached out to me about hanging out. We had sort of mutually stopped texting each other months prior. I had to spell it out for him. When I said "I didn't feel a connection" I meant "I DON'T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH YOU, BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO DATE YOU." His response was "I wasn't ready for a connection." NO ASSHAT, THAT'S NOT WHY. You're not putting out some magical vibe now that will interest me. I didn't like you then and I don't like you now.
**This post is subject to the understanding that many relationships HAVE formed via the internet, and for others I don't necessarily knock it as a way of meeting a mate. Especially for people looking for specific things, like Jewish singles or Christian singles, it seems to have worked well for those friends. But regular old dating for a person like me? Nope. Internet, you lose.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
YOU'RE SINGLE BECAUSE YOU PULLED A HOUDINI
The blog has been somewhat neglected in the past few weeks, but lo and behold, I got myself a date. My friends and I now hope for one of two things - 1) the date goes awesome, and I go on a second date, etc. OR 2) the date goes so horribly awry that only an awesome blog entry could result. Seeing as this is a blog entry, you can guess which way it went.
I have been on a free dating site for a while, and after two failed attempts upon my arrival in LA, I pretty much ignored it. The site does, however, send me a message when a person sends me a message on the site, so sometimes I'll go in and clear out my inbox to rid it of all the "hi how r u" idiots who can't form a complete sentence or punctuate a question, let alone ask something that might garner an interesting response. After a few weeks of radio silence, a message pops up in my email. The preview showed proper grammar and an actual question, so I had to check this one out.
Turns out said poster was a stand up comic, who was cute, my age, not religious, and educated enough to put thoughts into sentences in a manner that didn't register as "DURRRRRRRRRR" in my brain, so I responded. We later became facebook friends, and I was asked on an actual date for the following week.
The day of the date, he messaged me and told me that he could still go, but had to leave early because he had to fill in for a comic who had dropped out of a show, but invited me to come along and see it. I agreed, thinking what better way to get to know this guy than see him perform. To be honest, I'm nervous - I'm almost always the funny one on dates, which really is a warning sign that I'm dating the wrong people, but to date someone who is potentially funnier than me and therefore might not find me funny was daunting. I was a little more awkward than usual, and, well, drank a whole beer (yay for the 7% alcohol one I chose).
My date seemed nice, but wasn't exactly the booming personality I expected from a stand up comic. I figured it was just first date jitters, and after our drinks we headed down the street to the club. This is where it gets weird.
We walk in, and of course he knows everyone. A show is going on, so he tells me to have a seat in the lobby and takes over working the door while another guy goes to the restroom or something. I sit with no interaction from him for at least 20 minutes, at which time he tells me the show is about to start so I should go in and find a seat. This is the only discussion we have. I go in, sit in the back, and order some cake to hopefully sober my poor, pathetic drunk ass up.
He is about the third comic to go on, and I was ready for a good show. Sadly, I was less than impressed. In fact, my competitive nature came out and part of me wanted to get up there and show all these people up. However, once his routine was over I was unsure of what to do. Should I leave because he was done? Was he going to come back and sit with me til the end of the show? Would he just let me watch it while he did other things and find me after it was over? I was confused, and not wanting to be rude to the person onstage, I kept my seat.
Thinking this show would be 4-5 comics, I was ready to go home about 30 minutes later, but noooo, they'd found every semi-funny comic in the city of Burbank to take up my time til nearly 11:30pm on a work night. I paid for my cake, eagerly awaited the end of the show where I wouldn't look like a douche for walking out, and wandered into the lobby, where I expected to find my date waiting. No such luck.
Still part of me was convinced he'd come check back when he thought the show was done, so I waited in the lobby, talking to other comics that came and went for about 30 minutes. Finally, frustrated and exhausted, I asked where this fucker was. No one knew. "Maybe he's watching the other show." Ok, where the hell is that? Someone walked me to an unmarked door and led me into a large empty room where the show had obviously ended a while before. Any other leads? "Oh, he might be at the bar."
The bar? Where the hell was this "bar"? I was escorted through the large auditorium to the other (completely unknown to anyone who came into this entrance) side of the club, which did in fact have a bar. A bustling bar, complete with my date and a beer.
"Hey, how did you like the show?" He asked when he saw me.
Confused as to why I was left to fend for myself on a DATE, I replied "Not bad, I enjoyed it."
His demeanor suggested he wasn't a huge douchebag, but merely COMPLETELY CLUELESS. He still seemed at least as interested as he was at the bar, and when I told him I had to go because it was 12FUCKING30am and I had to be at work at 8:30 the next day, he seemed surprised. He told me it was nice meeting me, gave me a hug, and asked if he could text me sometime. I said sure.
WHAT JUST HAPPENED? I was basically on a date for 4 hours and saw my date for 30 minutes. This could have been solved VERY easily. For instance:
1) I have to do some work at the door of this other show, meet me in the bar when you're done with this show.
2) He could have come SAT WITH ME in the audience after his set.
3) He could have come in and pulled me out of the audience after his set to have drinks with him.
4) He could have met me in the lobby after the show was over.
OR, as he chose,
5) He could have left me to watch an hour and a half show by myself, assuming I would figure out where he was, since no one told me there was a "bar" in the building and there were no signs to indicate this fact, and when I didn't show up in said bar til 12:30am knowing the show was over, he just stayed in the bar and drank beer with his friends.
So why is an attractive stand up comic (who sadly isn't as funny as I'd hoped) still single? Maybe because he has a complete inability to communicate and no common courtesy to even check on his "date" during the course of a four-hour evening.
I left confused. I wasn't angry, I wasn't disappointed - I hadn't gotten to know him enough to see if I even liked him - I just had no idea how a human could be so completely clueless about how to conduct himself on a date. He opened doors, bought my beer, then abandoned me in a rubix cube of a comedy club full of mediocre comics when I needed to get my ass home to bed so I could be a productive member of society the following morning.
Seriously, people. USE YOUR BRAINS.
I have been on a free dating site for a while, and after two failed attempts upon my arrival in LA, I pretty much ignored it. The site does, however, send me a message when a person sends me a message on the site, so sometimes I'll go in and clear out my inbox to rid it of all the "hi how r u" idiots who can't form a complete sentence or punctuate a question, let alone ask something that might garner an interesting response. After a few weeks of radio silence, a message pops up in my email. The preview showed proper grammar and an actual question, so I had to check this one out.
Turns out said poster was a stand up comic, who was cute, my age, not religious, and educated enough to put thoughts into sentences in a manner that didn't register as "DURRRRRRRRRR" in my brain, so I responded. We later became facebook friends, and I was asked on an actual date for the following week.
The day of the date, he messaged me and told me that he could still go, but had to leave early because he had to fill in for a comic who had dropped out of a show, but invited me to come along and see it. I agreed, thinking what better way to get to know this guy than see him perform. To be honest, I'm nervous - I'm almost always the funny one on dates, which really is a warning sign that I'm dating the wrong people, but to date someone who is potentially funnier than me and therefore might not find me funny was daunting. I was a little more awkward than usual, and, well, drank a whole beer (yay for the 7% alcohol one I chose).
My date seemed nice, but wasn't exactly the booming personality I expected from a stand up comic. I figured it was just first date jitters, and after our drinks we headed down the street to the club. This is where it gets weird.
We walk in, and of course he knows everyone. A show is going on, so he tells me to have a seat in the lobby and takes over working the door while another guy goes to the restroom or something. I sit with no interaction from him for at least 20 minutes, at which time he tells me the show is about to start so I should go in and find a seat. This is the only discussion we have. I go in, sit in the back, and order some cake to hopefully sober my poor, pathetic drunk ass up.
He is about the third comic to go on, and I was ready for a good show. Sadly, I was less than impressed. In fact, my competitive nature came out and part of me wanted to get up there and show all these people up. However, once his routine was over I was unsure of what to do. Should I leave because he was done? Was he going to come back and sit with me til the end of the show? Would he just let me watch it while he did other things and find me after it was over? I was confused, and not wanting to be rude to the person onstage, I kept my seat.
Thinking this show would be 4-5 comics, I was ready to go home about 30 minutes later, but noooo, they'd found every semi-funny comic in the city of Burbank to take up my time til nearly 11:30pm on a work night. I paid for my cake, eagerly awaited the end of the show where I wouldn't look like a douche for walking out, and wandered into the lobby, where I expected to find my date waiting. No such luck.
Still part of me was convinced he'd come check back when he thought the show was done, so I waited in the lobby, talking to other comics that came and went for about 30 minutes. Finally, frustrated and exhausted, I asked where this fucker was. No one knew. "Maybe he's watching the other show." Ok, where the hell is that? Someone walked me to an unmarked door and led me into a large empty room where the show had obviously ended a while before. Any other leads? "Oh, he might be at the bar."
The bar? Where the hell was this "bar"? I was escorted through the large auditorium to the other (completely unknown to anyone who came into this entrance) side of the club, which did in fact have a bar. A bustling bar, complete with my date and a beer.
"Hey, how did you like the show?" He asked when he saw me.
Confused as to why I was left to fend for myself on a DATE, I replied "Not bad, I enjoyed it."
His demeanor suggested he wasn't a huge douchebag, but merely COMPLETELY CLUELESS. He still seemed at least as interested as he was at the bar, and when I told him I had to go because it was 12FUCKING30am and I had to be at work at 8:30 the next day, he seemed surprised. He told me it was nice meeting me, gave me a hug, and asked if he could text me sometime. I said sure.
WHAT JUST HAPPENED? I was basically on a date for 4 hours and saw my date for 30 minutes. This could have been solved VERY easily. For instance:
1) I have to do some work at the door of this other show, meet me in the bar when you're done with this show.
2) He could have come SAT WITH ME in the audience after his set.
3) He could have come in and pulled me out of the audience after his set to have drinks with him.
4) He could have met me in the lobby after the show was over.
OR, as he chose,
5) He could have left me to watch an hour and a half show by myself, assuming I would figure out where he was, since no one told me there was a "bar" in the building and there were no signs to indicate this fact, and when I didn't show up in said bar til 12:30am knowing the show was over, he just stayed in the bar and drank beer with his friends.
So why is an attractive stand up comic (who sadly isn't as funny as I'd hoped) still single? Maybe because he has a complete inability to communicate and no common courtesy to even check on his "date" during the course of a four-hour evening.
I left confused. I wasn't angry, I wasn't disappointed - I hadn't gotten to know him enough to see if I even liked him - I just had no idea how a human could be so completely clueless about how to conduct himself on a date. He opened doors, bought my beer, then abandoned me in a rubix cube of a comedy club full of mediocre comics when I needed to get my ass home to bed so I could be a productive member of society the following morning.
Seriously, people. USE YOUR BRAINS.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
SINGLE AUTHOR RANTS ABOUT BEING SINGLE FOR A SECOND
Yeah, this isn't a hilarious story about some dude puking on his shoes or awkward hugs or cougars, I'm going to bitch a little bit because every once in a while, I really dislike being single.
I'm generally a cup half full type person (although recently I heard "The cup is always full - half air, half water." Touche) when it comes to my singledom, knowing that eventually I will find the right person and I will not die alone etc. You know when that stops? When being single is actually a detriment to my life and finances. How, you ask?
All of my friends are in relationships. ALL OF THEM. Even the ones I thought would be single as long as I was have coupled up. Boys and girls, gays and straights. All coupled. Now we're in what some affectionately refer to as "wedding season." It's not the weddings I dislike, or that get me into a tizzy about being single (I love weddings, no better reason to dress up and get free food and booze), but it's the preparations for said weddings. For instance, HOTELS AND TRANSPORTATION.
Couples ALWAYS have someone to split a room with. I don't. I have to keep looking and begging and looking for one or two other people to bring the massive charge of a hotelroom at the venue down enough for me to afford to attend. And don't even start with me about "hotels down the street." Sorry, if I'm staying somewhere ALONE, I'm not staying somewhere without all my friends. That's just sad, and drunk in the middle of the night it's dangerous.
Four people fit in a car better than 5, so two couples easily ride together. Where do you put your 5th wheel? I'm not very big, but I can easily make a 5 hour drive uncomfortable when I'm ass-to-ass with the others in the backseat. And if I had the money to fly, who the hell would come pick me up? Would I have to pay for a taxi ALONE to the hotel?
Being single is a financial drain. Seriously. Add it up. Hotel room for one, airfare because I can't ride in someone's car (OR I drive ALONE 5 hours, wasting gas and putting mileage on my car), taxi fare from the airport (or public transit fare). Meanwhile, if I was in a couple I'd pay for half a hotel room and have a practically free ride since gas would be split four ways.
In my group of friends, it never feels like I'm super single when we go out. No one is ooey gooey in the corner making out, everyone is having a good time with everyone else, and couples statuses are forgotten for the moment. We're all just friends. I never feel uncomfortable hanging out with a bunch of couples. That's why I rarely bitch about being single. That, and people don't want to hear about it.
It's only when my single status is brought forth as an obstacle to inclusion in activities that I become upset about it. I don't need it thrown in my face. I'm perfectly happy on a day to day basis, although I would like to get out more. Even numbers work out better. It's a fact of life. In cars, at tables, in hotelrooms, even when BUYING HOT DOGS. No one sells 5 hot dogs in a package. Every hot dog has a mate.
Couples get invited by other couples to do things. Go to dinner, do some day activity, see movies. No one actively says "don't invite the single one" but it's easy to forget when you start seeing your friends as BobandJane and TomandSara that
you have one friend out there who is just Friend1.
And riddle me this, coupled-up readers...how does one MEET new people of the single nature without GOING OUT? Coupled up people either don't really want to go out as a threesome with you or turn out to be terrible wingmen. Really we singles need each other so we can go out and do our single thing - find people to date. Counting right now I have 2.5 single friends within driving distance (.5 referring to a friend who promised to dump her boyfriend when she got a job, and she got one...).
I feel like I'm just sitting here wasting time. Go to work, hang out with my coupled up friends, sleep, repeat. Other than the work part, I like my life, but I need to get out there and make some efforts. And I need people to do that with.
So you damn couples GO FIND ME SOME SINGLE FRIENDS!! :)
I'm generally a cup half full type person (although recently I heard "The cup is always full - half air, half water." Touche) when it comes to my singledom, knowing that eventually I will find the right person and I will not die alone etc. You know when that stops? When being single is actually a detriment to my life and finances. How, you ask?
All of my friends are in relationships. ALL OF THEM. Even the ones I thought would be single as long as I was have coupled up. Boys and girls, gays and straights. All coupled. Now we're in what some affectionately refer to as "wedding season." It's not the weddings I dislike, or that get me into a tizzy about being single (I love weddings, no better reason to dress up and get free food and booze), but it's the preparations for said weddings. For instance, HOTELS AND TRANSPORTATION.
Couples ALWAYS have someone to split a room with. I don't. I have to keep looking and begging and looking for one or two other people to bring the massive charge of a hotelroom at the venue down enough for me to afford to attend. And don't even start with me about "hotels down the street." Sorry, if I'm staying somewhere ALONE, I'm not staying somewhere without all my friends. That's just sad, and drunk in the middle of the night it's dangerous.
Four people fit in a car better than 5, so two couples easily ride together. Where do you put your 5th wheel? I'm not very big, but I can easily make a 5 hour drive uncomfortable when I'm ass-to-ass with the others in the backseat. And if I had the money to fly, who the hell would come pick me up? Would I have to pay for a taxi ALONE to the hotel?
Being single is a financial drain. Seriously. Add it up. Hotel room for one, airfare because I can't ride in someone's car (OR I drive ALONE 5 hours, wasting gas and putting mileage on my car), taxi fare from the airport (or public transit fare). Meanwhile, if I was in a couple I'd pay for half a hotel room and have a practically free ride since gas would be split four ways.
In my group of friends, it never feels like I'm super single when we go out. No one is ooey gooey in the corner making out, everyone is having a good time with everyone else, and couples statuses are forgotten for the moment. We're all just friends. I never feel uncomfortable hanging out with a bunch of couples. That's why I rarely bitch about being single. That, and people don't want to hear about it.
It's only when my single status is brought forth as an obstacle to inclusion in activities that I become upset about it. I don't need it thrown in my face. I'm perfectly happy on a day to day basis, although I would like to get out more. Even numbers work out better. It's a fact of life. In cars, at tables, in hotelrooms, even when BUYING HOT DOGS. No one sells 5 hot dogs in a package. Every hot dog has a mate.
Couples get invited by other couples to do things. Go to dinner, do some day activity, see movies. No one actively says "don't invite the single one" but it's easy to forget when you start seeing your friends as BobandJane and TomandSara that
you have one friend out there who is just Friend1.
And riddle me this, coupled-up readers...how does one MEET new people of the single nature without GOING OUT? Coupled up people either don't really want to go out as a threesome with you or turn out to be terrible wingmen. Really we singles need each other so we can go out and do our single thing - find people to date. Counting right now I have 2.5 single friends within driving distance (.5 referring to a friend who promised to dump her boyfriend when she got a job, and she got one...).
I feel like I'm just sitting here wasting time. Go to work, hang out with my coupled up friends, sleep, repeat. Other than the work part, I like my life, but I need to get out there and make some efforts. And I need people to do that with.
So you damn couples GO FIND ME SOME SINGLE FRIENDS!! :)
Friday, May 6, 2011
YOU'RE SINGLE BECAUSE YOU SEND THE WRONG SIGNALS
And when I say wrong, I mean OFF THE CHARTS wrong.
I had the misfortune of landing my worst job as my FIRST job, rather than nicely stuck in the middle of a career as it is for some folks. Not only was it in a place where I fit in about as well as a goat at an AA meeting, but I had been dumped by my boyfriend about 1.2 hours before beginning said job. Needless to say I was on the brink of a mental breakdown.
My first day I was taken around by one of my coworkers and introduced to everyone. He mentioned that I would be working in the same court as Jenny, so I should meet her. He emphasized how smart and nice she was, and how she would be a really great teacher for me, but also seemed to indicate there was something a little off about her. I figure this out when I walked into her office and was told to sit and wait for her to return from court.
Jenny's office was an animal mausoleum. She had random pelts of various living creatures nailed haphazardly about her office, in places a normal attorney would put say, a law degree or bar license. Instead, she had an entire mountain lion skin, most of a beaver, a few other unrecognizable pelts, and a rabbit fur being used as a doily with a girly lamp and candle resting on it. Even this did not prepare me for what I was about to encounter.
Jenny walks in to her office, and true to my coworker's word, was very nice and welcoming. She was, however, somewhat off-putting...perhaps this had to do with the 3 inches of black eyeliner, bleach blonde semi-straightened hair, or the skirt so short I would feel uncomfortable wearing it in Vegas. To put it bluntly, she looked like some sort of crazy streetwalker who happened to have clothing that matched and didn't have holes.
At first, I thought the eyeliner was a mistake. Perhaps she slept in it, perhaps it had been smudged since she put it on. It was literally about a centimeter thick both above AND below her eyes, and not in a smooth and calculated way - more of "a Parkinson's patient did my makeup" way. Her skin was caked with too tan foundation, and her lips lined with a darker color than she used as lipstick. Overall, a ginormous disaster.
When you see a person dressed and made up like this, you automatically make assumptions - she's a hard partier, she's a slut, she's had every guy in the office, she uses her sexuality to get places. Sadly, for Jenny, NONE of these were even remotely true. Turns out, she was a VIRGIN, loved Jesus more than life itself, and rarely if ever drank alcohol. She was also incredibly smart, graduating at the top of her class in law school (which, as a former law student, I know just how hard that is).
I still can't quite get over the disconnect. This girl would wear leggings as pants. Leggings as pants TO COURT. Her top would be a tank that extended just to the edge of her butt, so it wasn't entirely covered, thereby giving everyone a good view of her ass in a thin layer of legging. She only wore black, but she'd wear sparkly silver open-toed party heels with most things. And on the days she decided to wear a skirt, well, let's just say she couldn't sit down in court, or bend over. She even admitted she had them tailored shorter than they came.
So one night another coworker goes out with Jenny and her friends to a bar downtown. She's dressed reasonably, but Jenny and company are all dressed in very tight, provocative outfits with the caked-on makeup and obviously fake hair. One guy, I was told by the coworker, actually came up to them and told them they looked like whores - instead of getting upset, they were adamant that he had no idea what he was talking about - they looked "classy."
Further proof that she had no concept of the fact that she looked like a crack whore was given by another coworker who met her for brunch one Sunday. Jenny was wearing what she wore to church that morning, which was as short and tight as the shit she wore out drinking. The worst part was, SHE TAUGHT SUNDAY SCHOOL. CHILDREN. I can only IMAGINE what their parents thought when they came to pick them up and saw what their supposedly Jesus-loving teacher was wearing. She literally looked like she'd woken up, not brushed her hair, not fixed her makeup from the night before, and came to church in whatever she wore out because she'd slept at some dude's house.
Now I don't know Jesus too well, but from what I've heard I don't think he really feels too enthusiastic about revealing clothing. And since Jesus was literally this girl's LIFE, I'm surprised this fact missed her by a mile. That, and if you don't consider CHURCH or COURT to be a conservative occasion, when WOULD you consider wearing something more covering??
It was pretty obvious that this girl would attract the wrong kind of guys. The ones at the bar that saw her and thought they could take her home if they bought her a drink, then send her on her way in a cab when they were through with her - not the good Christian boy she was actually looking for. And the good Christian boys, well, nothing screams "I love Jesus" more than short skirts, overdone makeup, and the collecting of dead animals.
Something that is important in both my degrees - advertising and law - is "KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE." Who do do you want to attract? If it's not guys in Affliction shirts with 20 STDs, don't dress like you're probably not wearing panties.
I had the misfortune of landing my worst job as my FIRST job, rather than nicely stuck in the middle of a career as it is for some folks. Not only was it in a place where I fit in about as well as a goat at an AA meeting, but I had been dumped by my boyfriend about 1.2 hours before beginning said job. Needless to say I was on the brink of a mental breakdown.
My first day I was taken around by one of my coworkers and introduced to everyone. He mentioned that I would be working in the same court as Jenny, so I should meet her. He emphasized how smart and nice she was, and how she would be a really great teacher for me, but also seemed to indicate there was something a little off about her. I figure this out when I walked into her office and was told to sit and wait for her to return from court.
Jenny's office was an animal mausoleum. She had random pelts of various living creatures nailed haphazardly about her office, in places a normal attorney would put say, a law degree or bar license. Instead, she had an entire mountain lion skin, most of a beaver, a few other unrecognizable pelts, and a rabbit fur being used as a doily with a girly lamp and candle resting on it. Even this did not prepare me for what I was about to encounter.
Jenny walks in to her office, and true to my coworker's word, was very nice and welcoming. She was, however, somewhat off-putting...perhaps this had to do with the 3 inches of black eyeliner, bleach blonde semi-straightened hair, or the skirt so short I would feel uncomfortable wearing it in Vegas. To put it bluntly, she looked like some sort of crazy streetwalker who happened to have clothing that matched and didn't have holes.
At first, I thought the eyeliner was a mistake. Perhaps she slept in it, perhaps it had been smudged since she put it on. It was literally about a centimeter thick both above AND below her eyes, and not in a smooth and calculated way - more of "a Parkinson's patient did my makeup" way. Her skin was caked with too tan foundation, and her lips lined with a darker color than she used as lipstick. Overall, a ginormous disaster.
When you see a person dressed and made up like this, you automatically make assumptions - she's a hard partier, she's a slut, she's had every guy in the office, she uses her sexuality to get places. Sadly, for Jenny, NONE of these were even remotely true. Turns out, she was a VIRGIN, loved Jesus more than life itself, and rarely if ever drank alcohol. She was also incredibly smart, graduating at the top of her class in law school (which, as a former law student, I know just how hard that is).
I still can't quite get over the disconnect. This girl would wear leggings as pants. Leggings as pants TO COURT. Her top would be a tank that extended just to the edge of her butt, so it wasn't entirely covered, thereby giving everyone a good view of her ass in a thin layer of legging. She only wore black, but she'd wear sparkly silver open-toed party heels with most things. And on the days she decided to wear a skirt, well, let's just say she couldn't sit down in court, or bend over. She even admitted she had them tailored shorter than they came.
So one night another coworker goes out with Jenny and her friends to a bar downtown. She's dressed reasonably, but Jenny and company are all dressed in very tight, provocative outfits with the caked-on makeup and obviously fake hair. One guy, I was told by the coworker, actually came up to them and told them they looked like whores - instead of getting upset, they were adamant that he had no idea what he was talking about - they looked "classy."
Further proof that she had no concept of the fact that she looked like a crack whore was given by another coworker who met her for brunch one Sunday. Jenny was wearing what she wore to church that morning, which was as short and tight as the shit she wore out drinking. The worst part was, SHE TAUGHT SUNDAY SCHOOL. CHILDREN. I can only IMAGINE what their parents thought when they came to pick them up and saw what their supposedly Jesus-loving teacher was wearing. She literally looked like she'd woken up, not brushed her hair, not fixed her makeup from the night before, and came to church in whatever she wore out because she'd slept at some dude's house.
Now I don't know Jesus too well, but from what I've heard I don't think he really feels too enthusiastic about revealing clothing. And since Jesus was literally this girl's LIFE, I'm surprised this fact missed her by a mile. That, and if you don't consider CHURCH or COURT to be a conservative occasion, when WOULD you consider wearing something more covering??
It was pretty obvious that this girl would attract the wrong kind of guys. The ones at the bar that saw her and thought they could take her home if they bought her a drink, then send her on her way in a cab when they were through with her - not the good Christian boy she was actually looking for. And the good Christian boys, well, nothing screams "I love Jesus" more than short skirts, overdone makeup, and the collecting of dead animals.
Something that is important in both my degrees - advertising and law - is "KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE." Who do do you want to attract? If it's not guys in Affliction shirts with 20 STDs, don't dress like you're probably not wearing panties.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
YOU'RE SINGLE BECAUSE YOU'RE BATSHIT CRAZY
Disclaimer: When I dated this person I was 22. I had just gotten out of a long (4.5 year) serious relationship, so I can't say I was particularly experienced in, well, anything. Obviously not choosing guys, as this horrifying story will tell you.
The only reasons I even acknowledge that I dated this person was because a) it was unfortunately a year and a half of my life and b) friends had the unfortunate experience of meeting this individual, and therefore I can't deny it ever happened.
I think back now and honestly cannot remember why I liked this guy, but we're going to go with physical attraction because I think that was the initial kicker. When you're 22, you don't see warning signs like "Hi, I'm 26, don't have a college degree, and am a professional waiter." I made up excuses like "Oh, he's going to go back to school" and "He's really smart he just wasn't ready." WRONG.
Had we lived in the same city and I had not been attending law school, thereby being somewhat busy, I might have discovered the crazy before, oh, a year and a half passed. I probably would have figured that shit out within 2 weeks, but no, now I have this scarlet letter on my relationship history that forever mars me. I suppose list format will be more appropriate, because it's just so painfully long.
1) CONSPIRACY THEORIST - I should have figured out something was wrong the first time he told me that Bush planned 9/11, but being a Bush-hater, I was really willing to hear anything negative about him, whether it be "Bush kills puppies" or "Bush and Osama Bin Ladin have tea and crumpets each Wednesday." His favorite show was on cable access, which was basically an angry nutjob like him throwing out things like "celebrity relationships are all fake to distract us from the government corruption."
He was convinced that the government was trying to poison him with flouride in the water, and that it was not put there to strengthen our teeth, so he spent $200+ to put a huge water filtration system in his tiny ass 300sq ft apartment. He would scream at me when I filled up the ice tray with tap water, and wouldn't even cook with it.
Pesticides weren't to *gasp* kill insects on plants, they were to pollute our food so we'd become some drone society that couldn't make decisions. Vaccines were to dumb down our children. Funny, I had all my necessary vaccines and managed to make it into a top 50 law school, but this fucker couldn't even graduate community college.
2) ANGER MANAGEMENT - Now add the "really fucking crazy" to "I can't control my temper" and it gets really fun from here. He'd come home from a bad day at work (dude, you're a waiter, your life is BAD DAYS) and punch the wall. I flat out told him if he ever laid a hand on me I'd legally fuck him so bad he couldn't ever get another job, which deterred him. However, it didn't deter him from acting like a complete moron in public.
Once we were at a Mexican restaurant and we both ordered margaritas. He didn't specify whether he wanted it on the rocks or frozen, so the waiter brought him the default frozen. Immediately he flips out, instead of saying "excuse me, I meant to ask for this on the rocks," he decides to scream at the waiter for being incompetent and said "a good waiter would have ASKED ME." GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE, YOU ARE A WAITER YOU WORTHLESS ASSHOLE. He was rude to the guy all night. When the waiter left once, I turned to him and said "I am absolutely humiliated to even be seen with you right now. I don't EVER want to see you treat another person like that, and if you say one more rude thing, I'm walking out of this restaurant and this is over. You need to learn some respect you fucking asshole."
To this he made up excuses as to why he was a better waiter than this fellow, so intentionally when the check came, he paid, and I pulled the waiter aside, in full hearing of Idiot, and handed him a 20 and said "I'm very sorry about the way he acted tonight, it was unnecessary and he embarrassed me. It will never happen again." Emasculation complete.
3) DUMB AS A FUCKING STUMP - When your girlfriend is in law school, you probably can't pull the wool over her eyes about your own complete lack of intelligence. For one, he lied about his SAT score - it came up in a conversation when he mentioned that one of the high schoolers that worked at his restaurant got a perfect score, then asked me mine. I replied, and apparently he felt threatened, because he upped his by a good 200 points I later found out. Just flat out lied.
AAAAAAAAAAND HERE'S THE KICKER...
I'd thought about dumping him for a few months, but since we saw each other so rarely it wasn't pressing. One weekend I go visit with the intention of breaking up with him, and because of this, I'm pretending I'm on my period so he doesn't try to hook up. We're about to go eat, when I say I have to use the restroom. When I emerge, he has a look of shock and complete disbelief on his face.
"What?" I asked him.
"Do you wear tampons?"
"Um, yeah...why?"
"Did you just go pee?"
"Yes...I'm confused...what's the issue here?"
"How did you pee with a tampon in?"
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? At this point my disdain and horror is showing on my face, and I condescendingly ask him "How many holes do girls have?" to which he replied "TWO." Holding my laughter, I ask him what they're used for. "Well, one is for poop and the other is to pee and have babies."
I was so in shock that I laughed, thinking he was kidding, then realizing he wasn't. I honestly don't remember what happened after this that particular day. Suffice it to say, we went to eat, I managed to get explosive diarrhea which I promptly used to destroy his bathroom, and then left for home. I called him a day later and broke up with him. He still thinks it's because of the distance, and not because he was the most worthless fuck I've ever come in contact with. At least I left a really gross toilet for him to clean up.
I am literally so embarrassed by having dated this person for any significant length of time that I would honestly RUN the other direction if I ever came in contact with him. Luckily he's blocked on all my chats, Facebook, and the like, so he'll never find me, especially since I'm 1500 miles away from where I'm last believed to have lived. But because of this, I feel like no matter my successes, I can never reach the actual top because of this indiscretion.
It's like saying "Yeah, I'm king of the world, I own every landmass on the planet, BUT I fucked a donkey in college and it's on YouTube."
The only reasons I even acknowledge that I dated this person was because a) it was unfortunately a year and a half of my life and b) friends had the unfortunate experience of meeting this individual, and therefore I can't deny it ever happened.
I think back now and honestly cannot remember why I liked this guy, but we're going to go with physical attraction because I think that was the initial kicker. When you're 22, you don't see warning signs like "Hi, I'm 26, don't have a college degree, and am a professional waiter." I made up excuses like "Oh, he's going to go back to school" and "He's really smart he just wasn't ready." WRONG.
Had we lived in the same city and I had not been attending law school, thereby being somewhat busy, I might have discovered the crazy before, oh, a year and a half passed. I probably would have figured that shit out within 2 weeks, but no, now I have this scarlet letter on my relationship history that forever mars me. I suppose list format will be more appropriate, because it's just so painfully long.
1) CONSPIRACY THEORIST - I should have figured out something was wrong the first time he told me that Bush planned 9/11, but being a Bush-hater, I was really willing to hear anything negative about him, whether it be "Bush kills puppies" or "Bush and Osama Bin Ladin have tea and crumpets each Wednesday." His favorite show was on cable access, which was basically an angry nutjob like him throwing out things like "celebrity relationships are all fake to distract us from the government corruption."
He was convinced that the government was trying to poison him with flouride in the water, and that it was not put there to strengthen our teeth, so he spent $200+ to put a huge water filtration system in his tiny ass 300sq ft apartment. He would scream at me when I filled up the ice tray with tap water, and wouldn't even cook with it.
Pesticides weren't to *gasp* kill insects on plants, they were to pollute our food so we'd become some drone society that couldn't make decisions. Vaccines were to dumb down our children. Funny, I had all my necessary vaccines and managed to make it into a top 50 law school, but this fucker couldn't even graduate community college.
2) ANGER MANAGEMENT - Now add the "really fucking crazy" to "I can't control my temper" and it gets really fun from here. He'd come home from a bad day at work (dude, you're a waiter, your life is BAD DAYS) and punch the wall. I flat out told him if he ever laid a hand on me I'd legally fuck him so bad he couldn't ever get another job, which deterred him. However, it didn't deter him from acting like a complete moron in public.
Once we were at a Mexican restaurant and we both ordered margaritas. He didn't specify whether he wanted it on the rocks or frozen, so the waiter brought him the default frozen. Immediately he flips out, instead of saying "excuse me, I meant to ask for this on the rocks," he decides to scream at the waiter for being incompetent and said "a good waiter would have ASKED ME." GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE, YOU ARE A WAITER YOU WORTHLESS ASSHOLE. He was rude to the guy all night. When the waiter left once, I turned to him and said "I am absolutely humiliated to even be seen with you right now. I don't EVER want to see you treat another person like that, and if you say one more rude thing, I'm walking out of this restaurant and this is over. You need to learn some respect you fucking asshole."
To this he made up excuses as to why he was a better waiter than this fellow, so intentionally when the check came, he paid, and I pulled the waiter aside, in full hearing of Idiot, and handed him a 20 and said "I'm very sorry about the way he acted tonight, it was unnecessary and he embarrassed me. It will never happen again." Emasculation complete.
3) DUMB AS A FUCKING STUMP - When your girlfriend is in law school, you probably can't pull the wool over her eyes about your own complete lack of intelligence. For one, he lied about his SAT score - it came up in a conversation when he mentioned that one of the high schoolers that worked at his restaurant got a perfect score, then asked me mine. I replied, and apparently he felt threatened, because he upped his by a good 200 points I later found out. Just flat out lied.
AAAAAAAAAAND HERE'S THE KICKER...
I'd thought about dumping him for a few months, but since we saw each other so rarely it wasn't pressing. One weekend I go visit with the intention of breaking up with him, and because of this, I'm pretending I'm on my period so he doesn't try to hook up. We're about to go eat, when I say I have to use the restroom. When I emerge, he has a look of shock and complete disbelief on his face.
"What?" I asked him.
"Do you wear tampons?"
"Um, yeah...why?"
"Did you just go pee?"
"Yes...I'm confused...what's the issue here?"
"How did you pee with a tampon in?"
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? At this point my disdain and horror is showing on my face, and I condescendingly ask him "How many holes do girls have?" to which he replied "TWO." Holding my laughter, I ask him what they're used for. "Well, one is for poop and the other is to pee and have babies."
I was so in shock that I laughed, thinking he was kidding, then realizing he wasn't. I honestly don't remember what happened after this that particular day. Suffice it to say, we went to eat, I managed to get explosive diarrhea which I promptly used to destroy his bathroom, and then left for home. I called him a day later and broke up with him. He still thinks it's because of the distance, and not because he was the most worthless fuck I've ever come in contact with. At least I left a really gross toilet for him to clean up.
I am literally so embarrassed by having dated this person for any significant length of time that I would honestly RUN the other direction if I ever came in contact with him. Luckily he's blocked on all my chats, Facebook, and the like, so he'll never find me, especially since I'm 1500 miles away from where I'm last believed to have lived. But because of this, I feel like no matter my successes, I can never reach the actual top because of this indiscretion.
It's like saying "Yeah, I'm king of the world, I own every landmass on the planet, BUT I fucked a donkey in college and it's on YouTube."
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