The Rebuttal
Meet the Smooth Talker
Post courtesy of Maria with my own thoughts in parentheses:
Carrie and I were waiting for 7/11′s band’s show to start at Paddy’s when suddenly our conversation was interrupted by a booming voice asking, “Hey, girls, do you know anyone with the band? I’m the manager.”
We looked up to see a rather odd character who had sidled up next to our table – he was shockingly pale and wearing an outfit that was not quite yuppie and not quite rock-n-roll (blazer, jeans, ironic Urban Outfitters “vintage” t-shirt, and a fedora). He smiled – an unfortunate, slightly creepy flare of teeth that made me want to lean back for fear of getting bitten, or otherwise accosted – and leaned in close to us. “I’m Jeremy. Is anyone sitting here? Mind if I join you?” (It is true – he was totally Creepy McCreeperson)
“Uh… sure?” I stammered – not that it mattered as he was already settling onto the stool right next to me – oh, lucky me. We introduced ourselves to him and he introduced us to his friend Joe, a shorter, slightly more normal-looking guy who had sneakily grabbed the seat next to Carrie (Can’t remember why he started talking to me, all of a sudden I looked over and he was there). Jeremy proceeded to talk for approximately the next 5 minutes solid, with me only barely getting to interject a response here and there:
“So, Maria, where are you from? You have an odd accent. Arkansas? Oh, I’ve never been there. But you say your S’s funny. Are you drunk? It’s only 9:30, how can you be drunk already? Is that why you’re saying your S’s funny? It almost sounds like an F. Did you have a speech impediment as a child? I always feel for the kids with the speech problems. They remind me of my brother. My brother is mentally retarded. He rides the short bus, you know – people say that as a joke, but it’s not really that funny. I live at home. I live at home partially to help take care of him, and partially because I made some bad choices. Yeah, I was on a bad tear for awhile. I was doing a lot of pills, smoking a lot, shooting up a lot. My mom drank when she was pregnant with me, so I’m more susceptible to substance abuse problems than most people. Did you know you have pretty eyes? I mean, they are absolutely gorgeous. Such a unique shade of blue. Do you wear contact lenses? Is that blue real? You have a nice rack too. Oops, did I say that out loud?! Ha, I’m all about the honesty! So, I’m the band’s manager – well, technically not manager, but I book gigs for them sometimes. So tonight I’m getting 15% of the take from the profits. Or the wristband sales. Wait, did you pay for your wristband? No? So, I didn’t make any money off you tonight – at least, not yet!” I am completely bewildered at this point and apparently look it, because… “I’m sorry, am I freaking you out? Am I making you uncomfortable? Sometimes I make people uncomfortable. You are very pretty. Are you dating someone in the band? Am I going to get my ass kicked? Do you want to dance later? Let’s go dance now!” The more he talked, the closer he leaned in to me, to the point where I was leaning so far back on my barstool that I was scared I was going to fall off of it. I started kicking Carrie under the table but she wasn’t responding, so I looked at her new friend Joe and gave him a shaky smile that said, “PLEASE HELP NOW.”
“Carrie? I need to go to the bathroom… come with?”
I walked as fast as I could to the bathroom with Carrie at my heels and as soon as the door closed, I shrieked, “OH MY GOD WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU LOOK AT ME WHEN I KICKED YOU UNDER THE TABLE!?!?!?!?”
“You were kicking me under the table?”
“YES! Hard! I couldn’t believe you weren’t responding, I was…” I trailed off as I looked at her feet. I had been kicking her in the aircast on her still-mending broken ankle. (This is also true, I didn’t feel a thing — and Joe and I were involved in witty banter so I missed all of the above except for his comment on her eyes) Oh, good GOD. “Um… so, new table after this? Somewhere we can hide?”
“Actually, I think I’m gonna go. I’m pretty tired. But the guy I was talking to – if he asks for my number, you can give it to him. He could tell you needed help and was like, ‘Is my friend freaking out your friend?’ Very perceptive of him. He seems a little young, though, and he’s not really my type. But yeah, if he asks for my number, give it to him.” (In my defense, Maria’s bday was the next night and I wanted to be able to go out full force, hence why I bailed early)
Carrie left directly from the bathroom, and I hid out in a corner while waiting for the waitress to bring our check. Suddenly Joe walked past me, and I dove over to grab his attention.
“Excuse me? I think you were talking to my friend, Carrie?”
He flashed me a sad smile. “Yeah, I was talking to her. She was so cute! Did she leave?”
“Well, yeah, she was really tired…”
“Awww man. That’s too bad. I thought she was so cute, but I couldn’t tell if she was giving me the brush-off or not (I wasn’t). I guess she was, huh? I’m sorry about my friend. I could tell he was creeping you out. I told Carrie she might need to help you get away from him.”
“Oh, it’s OK. No worries about your friend, though he does come on a bit strong…” OK, Carrie, I hope you don’t kill me for this… “And actually, Carrie wasn’t blowing you off. She asked me to give her your number.”
His eyes widened. “Really? No kidding?” (I find this hard to believe)
“Nope, no kidding!” I dug for my iPhone and produced her contact for him to copy to his own phone. “Here’s all her information. You should totally call her! She’d love it.”
“REALLY? Wow! OK then! OK!” He grabbed his phone and copied her information, grinning like crazy the whole time. It was like he’d just been promised a year of blow jobs, or free steak – or steak and blow jobs at the same time (interesting metaphor, I also find this hard to believe given the end result). He put his phone away and held up his hand. “High five!” I stared, then obliged – high five indeed! “You have made my WHOLE NIGHT! I mean… seriously! I can go home now! I’m DONE! High five again!” The kid was practically dancing around me, and I couldn’t help but be giddy as well. Look at me – a regular Yenta! I could not believe it! I should start a business! Matchmaker matchmaker make me a match…
Oh, but wait! He wasn’t done! He high-fived me AGAIN, overcome with glee at his acquisition. “So when should I call her? Is Monday too early? What about Sunday? Is Tuesday too late? You tell me. You’re a girl. You know what girls want.”
“Monday or Tuesday is fine. Either of those would be totally fine.”
“Really? You’re sure Sunday isn’t good?”
“No, Sunday is too soon, and Wednesday is too late. Monday or Tuesday, my friend. You’re in the clear. But listen – don’t you make me look bad by not calling her!”
“Well, don’t you tell her how I’m freaking out right now!” Yeah, RIGHT, dude. I cannot WAIT to re-enact this madness for them. This is gonna be the funniest thing that happens all night. It’s too cute not to share! (and re-enact she did, it was quite entertaining). “Yeah, I saw you girls and was like, ‘Jeremy, dude, I wanna talk to that girl – Carrie, I mean – and asked him, you know, would he help me, and he said he would… cause she was just so cute, dude, she was just so freakin’ cute! (this is impossible, I had zero makeup on, a not cute outfit and my hair was in a ponytail) And then I really thought she was givin’ me the brush-off, y’know? Man, you just MADE! MY! NIGHT!” he finished, with a fist-pump to emphasize the final three words.
We high-fived one more time and then parted ways. He was still at the bar, though, and every once in a while we made eye contact and he’d grin and give me a thumbs-up. I was beside myself with Gossip Girl-esque glee and texted Carrie to let her know about the post-departure developments.
So color me surprised when he NEVER CALLED HER… can you blame me?? Our new joke is “So if he high-fives you and tells you that you made his night, that really means he’s NEVER GOING TO CALL YOU.” (yes, we high five all the time now)
(Why he never called is baffling, given his ALLEGED response. I keep joking with Maria that maybe she misunderstood his reaction because why would he be that excited and never call me?? However, she is one of the most trustworthy people I know, so this guy is obviously just another D-bag. And even though he wasn’t my type, I was interested in hanging out with him again because he was HILARIOUS).
Meet Wedding Guy
For those of you who are Sex and the City fans, all I can think about when I think of Wedding Guy (WG) is the episode when Miranda’s interior decorator falls in love with her friend from England and plans a wedding at the Plaza in six weeks. Charlotte hooks up with a groomsman and when he drops her for claiming his father groped her ass, she screams after him, “did the last four and a half hours mean nothing to you??”
So yes, I tipped you off. I met WG at a wedding. I was actually eying him during the ceremony, which, I know, shame on me, my friend is vowing to love her husband forever and I’m drooling at WG from across the church. I should also mention that I went to the wedding stag. I had asked The One Who is Really Not The One but We’ll Call Him the One b/c It is Easier but he said no because he was “busy” and had friends in town, which I found out afterward were NOT EVEN STAYING WITH HIM so he could have gone with me but he is such a soul-sucking non-human he couldn’t be bothered.
Anyway, so after the ceremony, I drove to the reception, which was conveniently at the hotel I was staying at. I didn’t know ANYONE at this wedding except for the bride, her immediate family, and the groom. It was a HUGE wedding (300+ people) and everyone seemed to know everyone else, except for me.
As luck would have it, there was a couple at my table who were nice enough to, you know, talk to me, because before they got there, everyone else at the table seemed uninterested in including me in any of the conversations even though I was clearly alone and out-of-place. This particular couple asked why I was alone, which I guess is a fair question, so I blurted out that I had just broken up with someone. And by “just broken up with someone” of course I meant “The One Who is Really Not The One but We’ll Call Him the One b/c It is Easier and I had just had a horrible falling out.” The falling out occurred after I asked him to the wedding and not as a result of him saying no but the whole situation was still incredibly painful.
Naturally, they then asked if I was thought any of the guests were attractive and of course I immediately pointed out WG. The male half of the couple then informed me that WG was his cousin and he would introduce us later because WG was “a great guy and completely single.” The cousin came through and introduced us. WG came over to our table to say hello to his cousin & cousin’s wife and they introduced me, but in the most horrible way possible. “This is Carrie. She’s here alone.” I mean, I was already self-conscious enough but this made me feel worse because I very well could have been one of five single people out of over 300.
WG said hi but then talked with his cousin for a while and pretty much ignored me. At one point, his cousin leaned over and whispered, “sorry — I thought he was single, but I guess he just stated seeing someone.” I told him not to worry about it — how could he have known that, especially if it was super new?
After dinner, I went over to the bride to try to get a quick minute to chat. I understand brides have a crazy amount to worry about on their wedding day but I just wanted to give her a hug and tell her how happy I was to be there. She asked me if I would go outside with her to talk more while she smoked. When we went outside, WG was out there as well, along with the groom (WG’s cousin) and a bunch of their other cousins. I got to talking to WG and one of his other cousins a bit more, and the whole group of us just stood outside and chatted for a while.
WG and I definitely talked a lot, about everything, and he invited me to go to a football game in the Big House with the whole group of them in October (I have a feeling the drunken invite has since been rescinded).
At some point, I went back inside to dance. When a couple slow songs came on, I first asked WG’s cousin, and then WG, to dance with me.
The dance with WG’s cousin was super awkward. We danced like we were brother & sister and chatted mostly about when he used to live in the city I live in now, and what area. After that slow song, we went outside for another round of smokes (I wasn’t smoking but all the “cool kids” aka “people who were talking to me” WERE smoking, and I didn’t mind hanging out with them outside.
The next time we were inside and another slow song came on, I asked WG to dance. This was the complete opposite of my dance with the cousin. WG and I didn’t speak, as my head was buried in his chest (he is probably a foot taller than me) and he had his arms wrapped around me and was rubbing my back. After our slow dance, we went outside one last time.
I should probably note that the whole time we were talking, he never mentioned that he was seeing someone. I found out later that the bride & groom were speculating as to whether or not WG and I were going to hook up, knew about his “girlfriend” and never said a word to me (probably because they don’t like her, and it was their wedding night so why should they care??). When we walked back inside for the last time, WG kissed me. He then took my hand and suggested we go for a walk. I asked where we were going and he said he didn’t know, so I suggested my hotel room…because, well, if we were just going to “go for a walk” we may as well have done it in private.
We proceeded to make out in my room for HOURS. He said things to me like, “I’ve wanted this ever since I met you,” (four hours prior?) and “you’re so amazing.” Seriously, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that bullshit…well I’d probably have about 15 cents. Anyway. I eventually decided, around two in the morning, that we needed to stop. It got to the point where we’d have to stop or he was spending the night, and trust me, it was hard, but I had to scrape and claw into the inner depths of my body to find my one last shred of dignity and stop the madness, knowing that he was “seeing someone.” It could have meant they’d be on one date or ten, I wasn’t sure, but I knew he wasn’t completely single and that’s what stopped me. I don’t think WG was very happy with me for kicking him out, and I was fighting with myself to the death. The one half of me was of course thinking, “why take a knee at the five yard line when you can score?” and the other part was screaming, “PUNT, PUNT YOU MORON!!” So, after going back and forth while he was getting dressed, I finally decided he had to leave.
As a result, I don’t think he appreciated my indecision and subsequently rejected my friend request on Facebook (DID THE LAST FOUR AND A HALF HOURS MEAN NOTHING TO YOU???). When my friend got back from her honeymoon, I filled her in, which is when she told me WG and his girlfriend had been on and off for a while, but no one actually liked her, and she tried to avoid being around his family at all costs. Sounds like the perfect girl. It made me more upset after hearing that because I did like him and did want to see him again and knew that I wouldn’t and that he was dating a complete bitch.
The most recent time I spoke with my friend, she told me she confronted WG about what happened with me and all he did was blush and tell her he had a good time but he was with Bitchy McHoebag (that’s her official name). Is that a compliment? She told me she thought it would work out between us had he been single, but I guess it doesn’t matter since he wasn’t.
Jerk that he was, he was so hot, just thinking about that night makes me want to weep openly.
Meet 7/11
This post comes courtesy of Maria, who previously wrote about FB.
If you walk outside right now, there’s a decent chance that a 7/11 is very close by – so convenient, with everything you could possibly want. Tampons? Check. Gift cards? Sure. Cheese? Yes please. Alcohol? Don’t mind if I do!
In a culture so defined by the need and ability to get WHATEVER you want, WHENEVER you want it, I guess it was only a matter of time before I encountered Mr. 7/11 – a coworker of a close friend of mine. We first met at her birthday party over six months ago. Over the course of the evening, I became so drunk that I blacked out for the first time (yes, it’s happened more than once – don’t make that face, we’ve ALL been there) – and 7/11 and I shared a totally clandestine, totally sexy kiss at the end of the night. Unfortunately, that got me into a bit of trouble with the birthday girl – unbeknownst to me, she’d had a crush on him for some time. I’m pretty sure someone tried to tell me at some point, but the message was lost somewhere between the 3rd and 4th shots of tequila. 7/11 and I randomly showed up at the same place a couple of times in the next few months, but I pretty much forgot him – my obsession with FB was in full swing at this point, but more importantly, I wasn’t about to ruin my friendship with Birthday Girl over some dude.
Cut to a gorgeous summer day in August when Birthday Girl and I were having dinner and discussing the possibility of her setting me up with someone she knew. As we discussed the possibilities over margaritas, she casually remarked, “What about 7/11? I think you two would really hit it off.” My surprise could not have been more evident as I struggled not to choke on my enchiladas, but I was open to the idea – I remembered 7/11 as cute, funny and very charming. He also had Southern roots which I totally loved – and if Birthday Girl was OK with it now, why not? We decided to go see 7/11′s band play their next show a couple of weeks later.
Birthday Girl ended up not being able to go to the show, so I dragged my dear friend Carrie with me to Paddy’s, a random bar in an even more random area of town where the band was playing. 7/11 had been gchatting me all week asking if I was coming that night, so I figured there was some level of interest still there, but I wasn’t quite sure how much. As soon as I tracked him down in the crowd, he greeted me with a hug so enthusiastic he nearly knocked me over. (Side note – I am 5’9″ and relatively athletic – this is NOT an easy accomplishment.) I was floored by his reaction and even more surprised when he said, “You look great. Even better than I remembered.” Do tell…
Carrie ditched out to call it an early night but 7/11 and I partied all the way til dawn – literally. At first, I insisted I HAD to turn into a pumpkin by 2am, as my birthday celebration was the next day. But when he asked me to come to his place for an afterparty with a few others, I just couldn’t say no… and then a few hours later, when he told me I could stay with him if I wanted, I was too tired to argue. When the others had left, he wrapped his arms around me and asked if I remembered the first time we’d kissed, then informed me that he’d had a thing for me ever since then. I nearly swooned – it was way too good, and one hell of a way to start my birthday.
7/11 came to my birthday party later that night. Obviously I felt compelled to return the favor he’d done for me by letting him stay at my place. By 11:30 am on the morning after my birthday, I was convinced that I’d finally met my match. Halle-freakin-lujah – someone actually wants to date me, and he’s cute and smart and funny, and my friends like him?!?!? Jackpot!
We texted and gchatted in earnest over the next few days. He mentioned that he had family in town over Labor Day weekend, so I wasn’t concerned at all when he didn’t make plans to hang out with me again right away. He’s waited this long, I figured… he can wait a bit longer. After Labor Day, it’s ON. I could hardly contain myself! A real, adult relationship after a LONG hiatus from coupledom. But it was too good to be true.
On the Sunday of Labor Day weekend, 7/11 texted me – “Miss you!” with a sweet little emoticon. Well into a Sunday Funday drinking session with friends, I dashed off a message telling him to come meet us. And that he did – but he didn’t stick around long. He and his cousin ran off to another bar, and we met up with them again about an hour later. I noticed that he wasn’t nearly as touchy-feely as he had been previously, but I chalked it up to him not wanting to be all over some girl in front of his cousin and didn’t think much of it… until Tall Stunner showed up.
Let me back up for a second. Tall Stunner is a coworker of 7/11 who I’d met at the show at Paddy’s. She and I totally hit it off because of our matching designer purses. We immediately facebook friended each other and had made plans to hang out at the next show at Paddy’s, so I wasn’t entirely shocked to see her – in fact I was thrilled that my new friend had come to join the party. She looked fantastic in a sleek off-the-shoulder minidress, cropped jacket and high heels. I suddenly became very aware that my jean skirt, tank top and flip flops made me feel sloppy, not casual cute. And then she and 7/11 started talking, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that there was something very odd going on there. I started to feel like the dreaded third wheel. My friends, observing from afar, told me that they sensed something strange was going on too. Instead of cutting my losses and leaving, I stuck it out to the bitter end… even going with the group to a hot dog joint down the street, where I had to restrain myself from smacking Tall Stunner when she called 7/11 “baby” right in front of me. What a bitch. She’s so obviously trying to steal him. Whatever – he’s been waiting for me for months – he’s mine!
I walked home alone that night – not unusual for me as we weren’t far from my apartment – but 7/11 wrote me a very strange email the next day apologizing for not making sure I got home safely and begging forgiveness. I wasn’t even mad about that – but I wrote him a playful email in response saying that he could take me to dinner if he really felt like he should make it up to me. When I didn’t receive a response the next day, I couldn’t help but wonder if his email was actually compensating for something else… and my suspicions were confirmed when he called me that night.
I teased him about not responding to my email and told him I felt like I was being rejected. He sighed and replied, “Katie, I would love to take you to dinner… but as of 2 days ago, I’m actually dating Tall Stunner.” I froze. My jaw dropped open and the ice cream cake I’d been eating fell out of my mouth onto my brand new iPhone 3GS. I frantically dabbed at the mess I’d made and put him on speaker phone (have you ever tried to clean a touch screen phone while on a phone call without hanging up on the person you’re talking to? I don’t recommend it.)
“You’re dating Tall Stunner? As of…” (quick mental math) “…Sunday fucking night? Are you SERIOUS?”
“Um… yeah. I’m really sorry. It’s just that she was there, and you weren’t, and… it just kind of happened!”
Why don’t I ever trust my gut instincts?! Why?! WHY??? “Um… so let me get this straight. She was there. She told you that she liked you. And that was it? And now I’m just… what? What am I?”
“Mia… (No one has called me Mia, ever, except for my high school/college/forever boyfriend. WTF.) It just happened. I don’t know how to explain it. I mean… I’ve never been in this situation before, where I’ve had 2 girls tell me in the same week that they like me. And you and I were hammered when you said you liked me… so I wasn’t sure if you meant it.”
My face was burning and I could feel the tears rising to my eyes. I will NOT cry during this phone call. I will NOT. “That’s the best you can come up with? You know, you’d do yourself a great favor by cutting the bullshit and being honest. You like her better. You think she’s hotter. That’s fine – but be real about it. Don’t try to spare my feelings. I’m a big girl – I assure you, I can handle the truth.”
More dramatic sighing from 7/11. I could hear muffled noises in the background but not enough to tell where he was or what was going on, but he was definitely distracted. “Mia, I’m sorry. I really do like you. It’s just that my momma always taught me to do the right thing…”
“Do NOT bring your mother into this. I’m fairly certain her definition of ‘the right thing’ does NOT involve you inviting two girls – both of whom you KNOW like you – to the same bar, and then watching them duke it out for your affection, culminating in one of them giving you a lap dance in public!”
“Would you stop for a second? I just can’t date more than one person at a time. I’ve never been able to do it. I’m really sorry. I don’t know how I could have handled this better. I… I really want to be friends with you. And nothing’s set in stone.”
Seriously? “You know what? I have plenty of friends already, but thanks. And if you think I’m going to wait around for you to figure out that you made a mistake here, you’re out of your fucking mind.” My voice was starting to shake and I knew I had to get off the phone soon before I completely lost it.
“Are you sure? I really care about you, Mia. I think you’re amazing.” I considered this silently for a moment, and just when I was about to give in, an announcement in the background jolted me back into the reality of the situation:
“Attention Customers! Please visit our produce section for reduced prices…”
HE WAS CALLING ME FROM THE GROCERY STORE?!?!?!??!?!
“Actually, 7/11, fuck off. Goodbye.”
He keeps trying to gchat me, but I haven’t spoken to him since.
Meet the Backstabber
This actually involves a love triangle that I didn’t even know I was in. My sophomore year of college, I struck up a long distance “romance” with a guy I had been friends with for YEARS. I’m not sure why we decided to take it to the next level but I think a part of me had always liked him. We always had two factors going against us: distance and significant others (more significant for him than me as I didn’t date much in high school). Anyway, when I was home for Christmas break, I went to spend the weekend with him because I hadn’t actually SEEN him in a while and since we were taking things to the next level, so to speak, I wanted to see him. I’m not sure he ever wanted more from me, I think he was just along for the ride.
Anyway, the weekend went well. We had a blast. One of my nights there, we decided to go to Canada. Yes, he lived in a U.S. town within driving distance, and since I wasn’t 21 yet, we wanted to go to a bar where I could legally drink. We went with the backstabber. I think that was the first night I ever puked as a result of alcohol. But I digress.
I hadn’t met the backstabber before my trip but I’d heard about her. They were friends and had some classes together but he never spoke of her as more than a friend. We became friends during my trip there and stayed in touch when I returned to college.
The problems began shortly after. She told me he was lying to me about his past, was hooking up with girls left and right and didn’t care about me. She wanted me to “know the truth about him.” Well, being the naive little lamb that I was, I believed every word of what she told me without verifying with him. I shot him an email telling him not to talk to me anymore. Poor gent was extremely confused. I refused to elaborate so we lost touch for a while. The next time I saw him, he was dating the backstabber. I’m not entirely sure what the truth was in that situation; we never officially cleared the air (that I remember, I mean it was a long time ago and I don’t have saved emails from that far back to verify. This is all off memory.) because I don’t think he REALLY cared that I was no longer speaking to him. The distance was such a pain in the ass to begin with it just wasn’t worth the effort.
I may have at one point confronted him, he told me she was lying, etc. It didn’t matter though. They dated for about three years, bought a house together and then she broke up with him shortly after and moved out. I haven’t spoken to her in years. I still speak to him occasionally.
Since this happened, I’ve been firmly against long-distance relationships.
Meet Sixth Grade Teacher
Sixth Grade Teacher (SGT) and I met one night at a bar in a part of the city to which I never venture. There was a group of five of us, so not huge, and after apparently gawking at me for a while (according to my roommate, and yes I looked over at one point and I’m pretty sure there was gawking), he finally came over and dropped the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard, asking me if one of the guys in our group was my brother. Makes no sense, but I had to give him credit for at least approaching me, so we started chatting.
It was your typical awkward, getting to know you encounter. We stood by the bar and had a beer, but he seemed almost TOO into me, so I couldn’t tell if he was for real or not. Like he kept telling me how pretty I was and how great I was, etc. I figured he was probably buttering me up for a hook up later, but I really wasn’t in the mood.
I learned that he was originally from the city, was a sixth grade teacher, and also played golf all the time in the summer.
At the end of the night he asked me to go home with him, but I said, “the only place I am going is home, in a cab, by myself.” He was nice enough to take me home in a cab (and pay for it) even though he lived in a completely different part of the city.
Around four in the morning, he texted me saying he couldn’t wait to see me again. The next week, I was out of town, but I invited him to a party the next weekend. The whole week leading up to the party, I was in that phase where you’ve just met someone new so it is super exciting and I kept telling my friends that I wanted to play strip long division with him (JOKINGLY), but I’m not even sure what that would entail. Long division is sixth grade math, right?
He came to the party when I was already pretty drunk. I apparently loudly told my roommate that I was going to die alone because I ruin everything when he was in the other room and not paying attention to me. I can’t remember if this was before or after I spilled my drink all over my shirt and had to borrow one from the host of the party. So yes, pictures of that evening feature me in two different shirts but that’s fine.
My friends later told me I was a lost cause that night when they looked over at us talking and I was just staring up at him admirably and all googly eyed (is that even a word? can it be a word?). He was a good foot taller than me too, so my head was tilted back for a lot of the evening while I was looking up at him. Makes my neck hurt just thinking about it.
Later in the evening we left the party to go hook up and it was horrible. Literally the worst hook-up ever, and also the fastest, if you get my drift. We went back to the party afterwards, where one of my friends invited him to join me at her birthday party the next weekend. He agreed, and then left with his friends. Oh yes, I forgot to mention he brought two of his friends to the party, which was fine, since we didn’t know each other that well and I wanted him to feel comfortable there. Of course all of that went out the window post-hook up, but prior to that everything was really okay.
A few days later, I emailed him the Evite for my friend’s birthday party saying I hoped he could make it. I figured I should give him a second chance. One bad hookup doesn’t necessarily mean all of them will be bad. Well, I guess I’ll never know, because he never emailed me back and I never heard from him again.
He was a quick one to get over if you combined the bad hookup with the jerk factor of never speaking to me again. Luckily, I’ve never been back to that bar since so as to avoid an awkward encounter. I would say “live and learn” but I never do!
Meet Minnesota
I met Minnesota at a Wisconsin bar. I know, right off the bat this could get confusing. Also, I have to call him Minnesota because I don’t remember his name (not that I would use it, but this time I legitimately can’t remember). But I digress. I was at the Wisconsin bar because my roommate went to Wisconsin and we were watching a football game there. It was Fall of ’07, my first year in the city, and I was fast becoming a fan of bloody marys and day drinking. We were in the back part of the bar, enjoying our beverages at 11am, when a group of guys came over to talk to us.
It turned out they were all from Minnesota, in town for the Vikings/Bears game the next day. They were doing a bar crawl that was going to span the entire day and end somewhere in Wrigleyville. We all got to talking, mostly about sports, and I’m not sure when or how the following came out of my mouth, but at some point I said, “if I have to see the stupid Doug Flutie hail mary pass vs. Miami from 1984 one more time I am going to SCREAM!” (keep in mind I am paraphrasing this because I don’t remember my exact words) to which Minnesota immediately responded with a marriage proposal (to me) because he thought it was fantastic that a girl knew about the Doug Flutie hail mary pass.
Although, let’s face it, if you’ve EVER watched a BC vs. Miami game (which I have) and/or worked in college sports (again, raising my hand here) then you SHOULD know about that pass, so I didn’t find it all that remarkable (although when I first started interning at a university more known for its basketball team than football, I didn’t have a clue as to who Dick Vitale was so I suppose it evens out). Whatever TV station happens to air the BC/Miami game will inevitably SHOW the pass so that’s why if you’ve even watched one game in your lifetime, you should know about it.
So after my marriage proposal, Minnesota and I started talking for a while. I found out he was about six years older than me, was a pharmacist and owned his own home outside Minneapolis. Also, he was a Vikings season ticket holder, which I was willing to overlook if it ever came to that, but it never did. At around 3:30, I realized I was supposed to meet friends for margaritas at a completely different part of the city at 5:30, so I had to run home, change, and head over to the section of town we lovingly refer to as Viagra Triangle. Minnesota asked if I would meet up with him later on in the evening, so I gave him my number not thinking I’d hear from him. About ten or 15 minutes later when I was on the train, he texted me so I’d have his number and said something mildly cute that I don’t remember because it was two years ago.
After margaritas, my friends and I decided to venture back north into Lakeview to go to a bar party that my friend Liz’s friend was throwing. It was one of those bar packages, $20 all you can drink for three hours. We head over and continue drinking. In the midst of all this, MN and I are texting back and forth. He didn’t want to leave his friends, and I didn’t want to leave mine, so us seeing each other again was going to come down to one of us being able to convince our group of friends to leave and head over to the other group’s location.
This never actually happened, and my group stayed at the same bar all night. Around 2am, we finally left to get burritos at a Mexican joint down the road. I got home around 2:45 or 3, and half fell asleep while missing two calls from MN. I called him back and he asked me if I wanted to come to his hotel. I said no, because it was downtown and I wasn’t interested in paying for a cab, but if he wanted to, he could come to my apartment. I know, what kind of idiot would invite someone they’ve known for a shade longer than 12 hours over to their apartment?
Anyway, he told me he’d call me right back, and did, from a cab, wanting to know my address. He arrives at 4am. We go into my room, lie down on the bed, and talk until we fall asleep. I shit you not. He came all the way over to my apartment to LITERALLY sleep with me. We didn’t even kiss. I was against making the first move because it was shortly after everything had happened with the Shady Liar and I thought it would be nice if HE made the first move, but he never did, so alas, we slept. At 7am, he got up because he had to go back to his hotel to meet his friends and start tailgating. He even said to me, “wow, our first date was so exciting, wasn’t it?” Which didn’t necessarily lead me to believe there would be other dates given our distance but that at least he liked me in some capacity.
I don’t remember the outcome of that game, but I do remember texting him during it to at least congratulate him on a good play by the Vikings. Other than his one response, I never heard from him again. Ever. I guess it was better off though, I mean he came all the way to my place at 4am and couldn’t even follow through (which was probably better in the long run, he wouldn’t have gotten very far that night so if he was looking for that he would have left pretty angry). We were doomed from the start.
Meet the Hollywood Kisser
HK and I met on match.com right after I moved to the city. It was one of those first dates where you think, “okay, he’s cute, smart, funny, etc, but something is missing.” It wasn’t anything he did wrong, but I was quite sure he didn’t meet my height/weight requirement. To clarify, since all the tall girls yell at me, I have kind of a height fetish. I like ‘em tall — at least six feet — with a lot of either muscle or padding to make me feel smaller. I’m no giant, just a smidge over 5’4″, but have padding of my own so would prefer my dates to have at least 50 pounds on me. HK was definitely under six feet and definitely under my weight requirement, which may have contributed to my passive attraction to him.
The goodbye at the end of our date was slightly awkward, so I assumed I wouldn’t hear from him again. I did, however, and we had our second date the next Friday.
During that date, I decided for certain that there was nothing on my end, but that maybe we could be friends. Also, I didn’t feel like he was particularly flirty or interested, so I thought maybe the disinterest was mutual.
Wrong.
As we left the restaurant, I told him I was going to the nearest red line to hop a train home, anxious to end the date. We hugged goodbye and I thought it was over until…I was walking away when he grabbed my arm, pulled me back, and kissed me. He took me by complete surprise. Also, this was on an extremely busy intersection on a Friday night. I kissed back, pulled away, smiled, and said bye again. I was walking away for the second time, when he grabbed my arm for the second time, and did the same thing. This time, I hear someone yell, “YEAH, now THAT’S the way to say goodnight!” I was kind of embarrassed the second time around as it was pretty obvious at this point that he was interested and I wasn’t. I said goodnight a second time and made as quick an escape as possible.
A few days later he called, wanting to come over, but I cited fatigue and asked for a rain check. The next day I emailed him (I know, I know, easy way out) and told him I wasn’t ready for a relationship and could we just be friends, to which he said yes, but of course I never spoke to or saw him again.
I actually did him a favor. Two weeks later I met The One Who is Really Not The One but We’ll Call Him the One b/c It is Easier. So if it didn’t end that Wednesday via email, it would have ended two Wednesdays after.
Meet the Man-whore
I’ve know the MW since college. We’ve been through a lot, him and I, only ever as friends, though there was a time when he wanted more and a time when I forced myself to want more, which ended in disaster and us not speaking for a few months. But my favorite story about him is after the time when we weren’t speaking.
It was two summers ago, and we were living in the same city for the first time since college. He had a girlfriend of 2+ years at this time, which makes the story even funnier.
I was spending the weekend visiting a friend in a different town. I had woken up on Saturday morning to two missed calls and five text messages from MW, ranging from about 2:45 – 3:15 AM. They were all messages inquiring as to where I was (sleeping) and he was obviously very drunk and not with his girlfriend. I didn’t respond to any of them because I was annoyed and didn’t want to encourage that type of behavior.
Saturday night rolls around and I’m out with my friend, her now husband, and some of their friends. We’re all having a jolly old time when my phone starts blowing up. It is MW. He wants to know where I am. I am beyond annoyed at this point. If I didn’t respond to him the night before, what made him think I would respond to him the next night? Also, even though we were friends, we didn’t hang out that much, mainly because he had a girlfriend, so the nightly drunken text messages were becoming highly suspicious.
Irritated, I gave my phone to my friend to have her respond for me. Since he asked where I was, she told him. She responded with the name of the town we were in, which had a highly unusual name.
He responded: Is that a gay bar?
Without sending a response to that, I get another text: I think I know where that is. Tell me the cross streets and I’ll come meet you.
Again, without sending a response, I then get the following: Actually, just meet me at my apartment, that will be easier.
Now, keep in mind he’s basically talking to himself, since I (we) hadn’t responded to any of the subsequent text messages after the initial one, nor had I agreed to hang out with him.
Since he didn’t get a response to the text asking me to come to his apartment, I then got a series of “Where are you’s?” and was so fed up that I handed my phone back to my friend and told her to write whatever she wanted.
She and her husband conferred for a bit, responded, and then put my phone in her purse. They informed me that they had responded harshly enough so that I wouldn’t have to worry about hearing from him again.
I assured her that regardless of what they sent him, he would think of a response.
A short time later, a response did come through, and as they checked my phone, they looked completely dumbfounded.
They finally told me they had simply sent him a text that had said “man-whore.” As in, you are a man-whore for trying to hook up with me when you have a girlfriend of 2+ years. Figuring that was too insulting for him to respond, they were in total shock when one came back. He wrote the following:
“Manwhore? I thought you were at (insert name of town here).
Yes, that’s right, he thought Man-whore was the name of the bar.
When we explained the original meaning of the text, he continued to text me asking where I was until I could no longer receive any because my inbox was full.
Two years later, we’re still friends, he’s in a better, healthier relationship, and everyone is happy.
Meet Creepy E-Harmony Guy
In February of 2008, I did something I said I would absolutely never do: join E-Harmony. First of all, the commercials creep me out, second of all, I’m not really looking for something that serious and third of all, my track record with online dating is not good (maybe I should stop writing that I can’t date someone with poor grammar…it attracts all the freaks). So, why did I join? I actually don’t know. It was an impulse thing I did in order to try to move on from a…situation. (Oh, you don’t ever want to get married? Fine. Fuck you. I’ll find someone who does….yeah, that backfired).
Anyway, I joined, and it was kind of overwhelming. They e-mailed me seven or eight new matches a DAY, and really, who has that kind of time? Not me. So I weeded them out pretty quickly. If something seemed off in their profiles (bad grammar, odd sentence structure, shorter than 5’9”, too religious), I would just close the match…nothing personal but I just don’t have the patience to go through 80-something matches carefully (they accumulated rather quickly).
Eventually, though, after weeding through what seemed like an exorbitant amount of profiles, I started emailing with this guy who shall from now on be referred to as “Creepy E-Harmony Guy” or CEG for short, because, well, I’m lazy.
CEG seemed normal in email and phone conversations so we set up a brunch date sometime in March. I vaguely remember that it was after I returned from my first trip to Dallas. Anyway, we meet for brunch and he was maybe five minutes late, which isn’t a big deal, so when he got there I had already gotten a table. He walks in and I’m like, okay, great, the pictures in his profile are at least five years and 30 pounds ago, but whatever. I’m not trying to be superficial here, I’m pretty sure most of those pounds were muscle anyway and I’d rather you be 28 than 23, just be honest in your pictures. Jesus.
So, right off the bat, I’m like, okay, he’s shorter than I thought (I think his profile said 5’9” but he seemed shorter) and I’m not super attracted to him, but whatever. So we talk, he seems nice and all that. He doesn’t seem extremely anything: funny, smart, nice, odd, quirky, whatever. He just was. At some point, he brings up his ex. I’m like okay, well, it’s a little early for that but if he wants to talk about her, fine, whatever, I don’t care.
So he uses that as a segue to ask the following question: “so, how did your last relationship end?”
Okay, seriously?? I later complained to my mom that I thought that was an inappropriate first date conversation. She told me that on her first date with my step-dad she asked him how long he’d been divorced, so she didn’t necessarily blame CEG for asking. Okay, fine, she’s entitled to her opinion but that situation was COMPLETELY different. There were children involved in that situation, they were older with more life experience, etc etc etc. I don’t think when you’re in your 20′s with zero marriages and no kids between the two of you that you need to ask that question.
I didn’t really know how to answer that question. I BS-ed my way through it and was like “DON’T WORRY, I’M READY TO MOVE ON!!!!!!” (I write that in all caps and with numerous exclamation points because I was trying to convince myself that I was ready to move on from aforementioned “situation” and become something serious with someone else when actually neither of those were true. Like, who was I kidding? Well, apparently CEG. But no one else.)
So, brunch ends, he pays. Nothing else about our date sticks out other than his unfortunate interest in the demise of my last relationship.
Anyway.
We’re standing on the corner of Wrightwood & Clark saying goodbye. We hug. The restaurant was within walking distance of my apartment so I was walking home and MAYBE halfway down Wrightwoond (as in within five minutes of parting ways with CEG) when I receive a text message. Something to the effect of: “So, now the big question: feel any chemistry between us?”
The first thing that goes through my mind: Is he fucking KIDDING me with this?
I think I called my friend Sarah and we were like, what the hell, at least wait a day or something.
My mom told me to tell him it was too soon to tell, so that’s how I responded and he replied that I made a good point. So I think, okay, I’m off the hook.
Not so fast.
Brunch was a Sunday. I believe on Monday or Tuesday I get another text: When can I see you again? I legitimately was busy with work so I responded the next week would be better. He said great. I figured he would forget about me by then.
Again…not so fast.
The next week he sends me some ridiculous text message that says something like: “Good morning, hope you’re having a great week. So, what about us, do you want to continue dating?”
Now, I will admit, since this was a while ago, that above text is not word for word what he said to me, but he did use the words “us” and “continue dating.”
News flash: there is no us, and we’re not dating.
I didn’t know how to respond, so I kind of shelved the text message and moved on with my day. figuring I’d attend to it the next day after I’d decided whether or not he was a total whack job.
The next day, I receive the following text (again, paraphrased): “No response yet? That’s not a good sign.” At that point, I decided I had reached my freak limit and told him I wasn’t ready for a relationship and then apologized. The next time I logged on to E-Harmony, he had closed our match and cited the reason as being there was no chemistry between us, which I find hilarious. Also, if you’re curious, I went ahead and canceled my subscription.
Cut to me, two months later, walking down Fullerton in jeans and a sweatshirt (i.e looking like total crap) going to meet Sarah for dinner. It had rained earlier and there was a huge puddle right before the sidewalk that I was going to walk around. I noticed a couple walking towards me and realized they’d probably be doing the same thing. Then I noticed the male half of that couple was CEG. I don’t think he saw me. Even though I was walking RIGHT towards him, he was looking at the ground to presumably avoid walking in the puddle. He was walking arm-in-arm with this girl and I was kind of stopped in the street because my options were to either stop and let them navigate around the puddle first, walk through the puddle or cross the street and avoid them all together, and since I don’t *think* he saw me, I just opted to wait the five seconds for them to walk by me and then be on my merry way. I was trying really hard not to laugh. He was babbling about something church related so I’m assuming that’s where they were coming from.
I tell Sarah this, we think it is hilarious, we eat dinner, etc. After dinner, we’re walking down Broadway and I’m like, “God, I still can’t believe I saw CEG with that girl…she was PRETTY…how is that possible?” As I’m mentioning this, Sarah points out a restaurant to me that we’re approaching: “I really want to try this place, I’ve heard it is really good.”
Inevitably, because she’s pointing it out, I look in the window. Oh, look who’s dining in the restaurant: CEG AND HIS NEW FRIEND. Again, I’m sure he was too involved with his future wife to notice me, but seriously…that’s just…odd.
I can imagine how their first date went.
CEG: My last girlfriend broke up with me over text message. It was devastating. Hold me.
Blonde Girl: That’s so sad. It can’t be because you’re creepy. Let’s make out.
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