Here at Gofahne Road, it's mostly sunshine and rainbows. I have friends with super perky names like The Eternal Optimist and Shine. BUT, am I the ONE person that can't stand this "holiday" called Halloween? I don't hate it and there are things that annoy me on a MUCH deeper level which will be blogged endlessly at some point, but basically? I am not a fan! There was a time I had great Halloweens. Having an awesome friend who got me into kick ACE Cowboy employee parties may be why everything else fails in comparison. I'd even say, at that time, I loved Halloween. But as I get older, if I had a preference I'd rather just have it be Saturday and move on to November.
So, here is my list of why Hallo-waystoannoyme-ween is not really on my "to do" list:
1 - Do women in this town REALLY need an excuse to dress MORE like sluts?
2 - Despite being mostly creative all other times, I draw COMPLETE blanks on anything fun costume wise. So I end up being an asshat pumpkin, witch, sexy (insert word here). Which makes me feel ordinary and I hate ordinary.
3 - I can't trick or treat anymore without coming across as sketchy, weird, child stalkerish. So now I'm an adult and I have to GIVE candy rather than TAKE it.
4 - Forget going to any bar to just watch football and drink beer in peace. ALL the amatuers come out to "party" and I want to cut them. Yeah dummy, I remember my first beer too . Please go home.
5 - Too many people think they are funny and they are not. Halloween? Brings out the WORST of the not funny.
6 - The dirty, dirty, dirty comments you get in even the most innocent of costumes. Seriously, I was a FULLY covered pumpkin and I heard things that would have offended the dirtiest skank whore.
7 - I've been hit on AFTER a guy puked in his hard hat (in front of me). Broken up fights where a guy came at my sweet little girl friend's head with a beer bottle. And given up MY bed for the good of the "team" while I slept in a chair at my house. These are all true accounts of Gofahne Halloweens. Refer to amteurs in list item #4.
8 - People use this holiday as an excuse, more than any other, to dress animals in clothing. Not cute. Not okay. Ever.
9 - I don't really need any excuse or further temptation to eat crap for food. I don't know of ONE healthy Halloween recipe. And I HATE wasting anything, so I'll just keep the left over candy and eat it. All.
10 - I am a wimpy, scary, fraidy cat and I spend this ENTIRE month on edge. Is someone going to jump out at me? Why do ALL my friends love haunted houses and scary movies? WHEN will it be November 1st!?
11 - I HATE crowds. Passionately.
I had a list of 10 that I really liked, but then I remembered how much I abhor (thanks Shine) crowds and had to tag the last one on in good measure.
So for all you ghoul loving, goblin chasing, scary movie watching fans....enjoy your day. I get the fun in the dress-up, but I can't say I won't be happier on Sunday!!
Happy fracking Halloween everyone :)
Hindsight Observatory
We all know hindsight is 20/20, but I’d like to give my foresight for “next time” a little Lasik surgery. Since I’ve been sporting my singleton status for a while now, I’ve had some time to work on both. I’ve learned valuable lessons on the outskirts. When someone shows you who they are, listen. Learn when to walk away. Pick your battles. And possibly? Spend a little more time observing your relationship with a clear set of eyes.
I recently spent a whole lotta time on a plane. On my flight back from the MIA, I sat next to a married couple. They seemed pleasant. Neither “forgot” anything in their bag as soon as they sat down, both stowed their bags under their respective seats (more importantly NOT under my foot area), and everything was kept in an upright/locked position until the bing.
As we settled into the flight, I observed. If it weren’t for people watching, my life would have a LOT less meaning. Then they began to conversate* and I did my best impression of reading a magazine. All of a sudden I heard her say, “No, really. Tell me what ELSE bothers you about me.” I’m not any kind of relationship expert, but I can tell you THAT conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive.
From my I’m-not-emotionally-involved-so-I-get-to-the-play-the-impartial-third-party stoop, there was a simple solution. You’re on vacation or at the very least, you’ve been given 4 hours of uninterrupted quiet time. Take a deep breath. Think about the situation from the for a bit and determine whether this fight you so desperately need to have, right this moment, is really necessary. Then I found myself thinking, if people spent a little more time observing the situation and a little less time jumping right into epic conversations, wouldn’t we be better off in relationships? I’m great at offering this advice to someone else. I strive to do this in every friendship. But, give me a boyfriend and I pretty much kick that all too mature stoop right out from under me.
I’m ALL for talking about your issues, but you can’t take what you say back. That fight you can’t wait to have? That jab you can’t wait to take? You can’t remove any of the hurt you cause. And you certainly can’t be proud of the way you acted if you take it too far.
What I can promise you from experience is this…
There will be a day, probably not long from now, when the two of you are no longer together. No matter how hot, smart, funny, great you think you are…someone WILL eventually tire of your shiz if you’re a constant (insert derogatory word of choice here). You’ll take this moment to “stand up for yourself” and you’ll rationalize that he KNOWS the desk is “your” area, so why the H does he throw his t-shirts all over your perfect writing desk? Then a few months later you’ll sit down in a quiet apartment to write on your immaculately clean desk and you’ll realize how empty that “perfect” desk looks without his ratty t-shirts. And as you sell the desk, you’ll wish you’d just shut up about your ONE place to write. Because maybe, just maybe? In hindsight? Sitting next to him, snuggled up in your bed WAS the best and most inspiring place to write anyway.
Now, I wasn’t in a healthy relationship. The “learn when to walk away” bit was the important lesson there. But, I’d like to take what I’ve learned in past relationships and as a singleton and make my foresight match my hindsight for once. Maybe THAT is the whole point of growing up? Growing better.
*I make up my own words, a lot. It would be a good idea to embrace it :).
I recently spent a whole lotta time on a plane. On my flight back from the MIA, I sat next to a married couple. They seemed pleasant. Neither “forgot” anything in their bag as soon as they sat down, both stowed their bags under their respective seats (more importantly NOT under my foot area), and everything was kept in an upright/locked position until the bing.
As we settled into the flight, I observed. If it weren’t for people watching, my life would have a LOT less meaning. Then they began to conversate* and I did my best impression of reading a magazine. All of a sudden I heard her say, “No, really. Tell me what ELSE bothers you about me.” I’m not any kind of relationship expert, but I can tell you THAT conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive.
From my I’m-not-emotionally-involved-so-I-get-to-the-play-the-impartial-third-party stoop, there was a simple solution. You’re on vacation or at the very least, you’ve been given 4 hours of uninterrupted quiet time. Take a deep breath. Think about the situation from the for a bit and determine whether this fight you so desperately need to have, right this moment, is really necessary. Then I found myself thinking, if people spent a little more time observing the situation and a little less time jumping right into epic conversations, wouldn’t we be better off in relationships? I’m great at offering this advice to someone else. I strive to do this in every friendship. But, give me a boyfriend and I pretty much kick that all too mature stoop right out from under me.
I’m ALL for talking about your issues, but you can’t take what you say back. That fight you can’t wait to have? That jab you can’t wait to take? You can’t remove any of the hurt you cause. And you certainly can’t be proud of the way you acted if you take it too far.
What I can promise you from experience is this…
There will be a day, probably not long from now, when the two of you are no longer together. No matter how hot, smart, funny, great you think you are…someone WILL eventually tire of your shiz if you’re a constant (insert derogatory word of choice here). You’ll take this moment to “stand up for yourself” and you’ll rationalize that he KNOWS the desk is “your” area, so why the H does he throw his t-shirts all over your perfect writing desk? Then a few months later you’ll sit down in a quiet apartment to write on your immaculately clean desk and you’ll realize how empty that “perfect” desk looks without his ratty t-shirts. And as you sell the desk, you’ll wish you’d just shut up about your ONE place to write. Because maybe, just maybe? In hindsight? Sitting next to him, snuggled up in your bed WAS the best and most inspiring place to write anyway.
Now, I wasn’t in a healthy relationship. The “learn when to walk away” bit was the important lesson there. But, I’d like to take what I’ve learned in past relationships and as a singleton and make my foresight match my hindsight for once. Maybe THAT is the whole point of growing up? Growing better.
*I make up my own words, a lot. It would be a good idea to embrace it :).
When a Know-It-All really doesn't know Jack.
I never believe I’m wrong. Ever. I know many independent and slightly stubborn women around my age believe the same thing, but I take Know-It-All to an entirely new level. I’ve blamed airlines, websites, entire airports, DVD companies, beer manufacturers, and song writers (stories to come) on my quest to complete the “I’m right, they’re wrong” dance. The problem arises when I go from Know-It-All to I don’t know Jack. And it happens, A LOT.
Last night I hung my fabulous IKEA bedroom curtains in just under an hour. This oddly domestic and productive Sunday is not the norm on Gofahne Road. Let’s just say I’m a few million light years away from being Martha Stewart. I’ve never sewn a button. I’ve somewhat learned to cook, but even that can be sketchy. And until a year ago, I’d NEVER hung a curtain rod in my life. What?! I like natural light!
So at age 27, I hung my very first set of curtains. I was off work enjoying a mini stay-cation at my new house and waiting on the cable/internet gurus to get us connected. Since they told me it was going to take a bit to drill and connect the connector thingies (ok, I missed more than just the domestic lessons), I decided I’d do more than whistle while they worked. The next 2 .5 hours were filled with me spouting profanity at curtain hardware, yelling at an electric drill for not being cordless, and wondering why window dressings were really THAT necessary. I blamed the architects for not thinking to build the window farther from the wall. I blamed the electric drill cord making companies for not giving me the two extra inches I needed (TWSS) so I wouldn’t need an extension cord*. At the end of the project I was frustrated, sweaty, and felt nothing like a domestic goddess. But it was complete and I was proud I’d gotten it all done on my own.
Fast forward to the evening and you find my roommate, my bestie and me sitting on the back patio drinking box wine. It was a celebration, or Tuesday (the lines sometimes blur with the three of us). I tell my story of problem solving and domestic prowess between glasses, but at the end of my story I see a look of shock on both of their faces. Of course I think, I know you all wish you could be this good…we’ll get to your room next. But Nads, in her awesome best friend-ness then asks, “April, why didn’t you just screw off the ends of the curtain rod?” Me, “The ends don’t screw off. What the H are you talking about?” Nads and the roomie in unison, “Ummm, we’re pretty sure the ends of ALL curtain rods screw off.” I explain to both of them that while they probably buy fancy curtain rods with magical removable ends, I was thrifty (read: cheap) and my half price rod did not have such a fancy perk. I’d made the most of the situation and I’d thank both of them to acknowledge my genius! So they did (actually they didn’t, but they’re both MUCH smarter than me and they don’t feel the need to prove anything to me while drinking box wine). I went inside a little later to refill our glasses with the surprisingly tasty box wine and decide to prove my point. Note: my window was the patio window, so they were sitting right outside my room. I step onto my always available step ladder and admire my handy work as I reach for the end of the rod.
ALL curtain rod ends DO in fact screw off for ease of use!
I yelled something along the lines of “Mother Eff” accompanied with, “I’ll be damned” as I hear two simultaneous thuds on the porch and endless shrieking laughter. I’d actually caused my friends to ROFLTAO.
So, life lessons learned? All curtain rods do in fact unscrew for your convenience. Electric drill companies make shorter cords so they’ll fit in the toolbox properly, so buy an extension cord. Cable/Internet gurus will probably make excuses to stay longer to “work on the internet” so they can watch the white girl try to hang a curtain rod. AND if something seems incredibly difficult or you begin yelling at inanimate objects, there is a VERY strong chance the Know-It-All you pride yourself to be? Really doesn’t know Jack.
*Imagine the scene from “Back to the Future” when Doc is trying to connect the cord to the clock tower unsuccessfully and you’ll have a pretty good picture of what happens when you try to use a surge protector as an extension cord.
Last night I hung my fabulous IKEA bedroom curtains in just under an hour. This oddly domestic and productive Sunday is not the norm on Gofahne Road. Let’s just say I’m a few million light years away from being Martha Stewart. I’ve never sewn a button. I’ve somewhat learned to cook, but even that can be sketchy. And until a year ago, I’d NEVER hung a curtain rod in my life. What?! I like natural light!
So at age 27, I hung my very first set of curtains. I was off work enjoying a mini stay-cation at my new house and waiting on the cable/internet gurus to get us connected. Since they told me it was going to take a bit to drill and connect the connector thingies (ok, I missed more than just the domestic lessons), I decided I’d do more than whistle while they worked. The next 2 .5 hours were filled with me spouting profanity at curtain hardware, yelling at an electric drill for not being cordless, and wondering why window dressings were really THAT necessary. I blamed the architects for not thinking to build the window farther from the wall. I blamed the electric drill cord making companies for not giving me the two extra inches I needed (TWSS) so I wouldn’t need an extension cord*. At the end of the project I was frustrated, sweaty, and felt nothing like a domestic goddess. But it was complete and I was proud I’d gotten it all done on my own.
Fast forward to the evening and you find my roommate, my bestie and me sitting on the back patio drinking box wine. It was a celebration, or Tuesday (the lines sometimes blur with the three of us). I tell my story of problem solving and domestic prowess between glasses, but at the end of my story I see a look of shock on both of their faces. Of course I think, I know you all wish you could be this good…we’ll get to your room next. But Nads, in her awesome best friend-ness then asks, “April, why didn’t you just screw off the ends of the curtain rod?” Me, “The ends don’t screw off. What the H are you talking about?” Nads and the roomie in unison, “Ummm, we’re pretty sure the ends of ALL curtain rods screw off.” I explain to both of them that while they probably buy fancy curtain rods with magical removable ends, I was thrifty (read: cheap) and my half price rod did not have such a fancy perk. I’d made the most of the situation and I’d thank both of them to acknowledge my genius! So they did (actually they didn’t, but they’re both MUCH smarter than me and they don’t feel the need to prove anything to me while drinking box wine). I went inside a little later to refill our glasses with the surprisingly tasty box wine and decide to prove my point. Note: my window was the patio window, so they were sitting right outside my room. I step onto my always available step ladder and admire my handy work as I reach for the end of the rod.
ALL curtain rod ends DO in fact screw off for ease of use!
I yelled something along the lines of “Mother Eff” accompanied with, “I’ll be damned” as I hear two simultaneous thuds on the porch and endless shrieking laughter. I’d actually caused my friends to ROFLTAO.
So, life lessons learned? All curtain rods do in fact unscrew for your convenience. Electric drill companies make shorter cords so they’ll fit in the toolbox properly, so buy an extension cord. Cable/Internet gurus will probably make excuses to stay longer to “work on the internet” so they can watch the white girl try to hang a curtain rod. AND if something seems incredibly difficult or you begin yelling at inanimate objects, there is a VERY strong chance the Know-It-All you pride yourself to be? Really doesn’t know Jack.
*Imagine the scene from “Back to the Future” when Doc is trying to connect the cord to the clock tower unsuccessfully and you’ll have a pretty good picture of what happens when you try to use a surge protector as an extension cord.
You haven't had a bad date until a pork chop becomes a loofah...
I've heard about LOTS of bad dates. I even thought I'd been on my worst date years ago, because really who has HORRIBLE dates at my age? Well, I was wrong...dead wrong. I take FULL responsibility for not heeding the warning signs. But, this my friends is what happens when a pork chop becomes a loofah!
I met a guy online. For the most part the online thing has been a success, but THIS guy was "different". I talked to him a lot and he was ALL about me from the word hello. Red flag #842 that I chose to completely ignore. He'd led a hard life and really straightened himself out, so it seemed, and he entertained me. So, I gave it a shot. He wanted a full on date (like he had a theme prepared), I said..."Let's just grab a beer." Thank God for that! There is no way to type this story and do it any justice, so I'm just going to use bullet points to help me. Before you ask, no I'm not exaggerating and yes this really did happen. It's long, but I PROMISE it's worth it!
- He picks the WORST bar in Dallas. Horrible, shady, awful place.
I gave him the bar choice since he allowed me to just have a beer rather than go on his super themed date.
- We meet and he is wearing skinny jeans. Yes, SKINNY jeans on a 6'2" man. Tight, faded black, and a wallet with a chain.
Seriously, I would have just turned around if we weren't the only two people in the bar. I'm not even slightly into fashion, but really?
- We're there less than 5 minutes when the DJ starts to do a mic check because they have freestyle rap on Mondays (yeah, NOT kidding). This is "his" bar though so he knows they do this. However he freaked out after they said "testing, testing, 123" for the second time and said, "We're leaving. This is ridiculous. I can't believe how loud they are being. We can't talk."
Ok, the fact that he wanted quiet so we could chat is sweet, but it's a BAR. It's going to be louder than a whisper and truthfully the freak out was a bit much.
- We walk outside to go to the bar across the street. He lights up a cigarette (fyi, I don't smoke and he knows I'm not a fan).
Him: "Do you mind if I smoke? Actually it doesn't matter if you mind or not. I thought about not smoking for the 45 minutes, or however long this date lasted, but then I thought Eh, Fuck it."
Me: .... (in my head) Did he JUST have a conversation with himself?
- We get there and the Cowboys game is on at the bar. He hates football. For those of you that don't know me, this is a HUGE issue. However, I knew I was missing the game that night so it was fine. Now this bar has an awesome outdoor patio. It's a beautiful night, he hates football, and he smokes. So where does he choose to sit? Inside. Genius. We are there long enough to order a beer and his food. He starts to calm down (I'm chalking all of this so far up to nerves). As soon as his food arrives, he needs a cigarette and asks me to join his outside. I do and I make the mistake of making coversation.
Me: "So, you said you hadn't really been social in a while. What made you decide to breakout into the online dating world?"
Him: "I DON'T want to talk about it."
Me: .....
Him: "How about you?"
Me: "Well, I haven't dated in a while and I wanted to meet new people, get in some practice talking to men again, and really just get out in the dating world."
Him: "OH."
He stands up and walks back in the bar leaving me on the patio. Alone.
My purse is inside, so I can't just leave. What the hell was that? Is he mad? Seriously?
- So, in schock, I go back inside.
Him: "So what you're saying is, I'm a throw away date? No, no...I totally get it."
(In my head) Hey psycho, it had nothing to do with you or your insecurities. Calm the EFF down.
Me (out loud): "You aren't (I should've said weren't but I was trying to be nice and keep psycho from going all Norman Bates on me). Isn't it really all practice until you find the person you are supposed to be with? Also, I felt like you and I might be looking for different things. That is why I wanted to meet in a casual environment first."
Him: "Well yeah, I knew it was going to take a couple of dates to get you in bed."
No really, he SAID this. Also, I've gone to bitch status on making the sex. I flat out tell them "The sex is not going to happen, this is NOT a challenge. I've done the casual thing and I'm out."
Me: ..... "I told you I wasn't going to sleep with you."
Him: "You all say that, but you don't actually mean it."
Now, for truth's sake, I'll give him this one. Many women throw that out as a challenge and then bend. However, a tip, don't TELL the woman you expected she was lying.
Me: "You picked the wrong girl."
- So, the silent awkwardness begins. He begins to box up his food and is about to drop the box on the floor or himself, so I grab it to steady the to go container for him.
Him: "Don't TOUCH the box. I got this. I'm on a mission."
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?
- We move outside.
Him: "Well, I'm not sleeping with anyone now, so I guess if I don't sleep with you right away either then it's ok. I mean, I'll chop off my penis if you want. Wait, I love my penis. I didn't mean that."
Me: ....
Him: "So where would you like to go next?"
Me: "Ummmm....it's late. You have an early meeting and it's only Monday. I think I'm done."
Him: "OH, so I you're not having a good time? You're ready to LEAVE?"
Me: "Ummm, it doesn't seem like YOU are having a good time."
Him: "No, I'm having a GREAT time. I mean, how bad is it? On a scale of 1-10?"
Me: "I feel answering THAT would be a very bad idea."
Him: "No really. I KNOW I can make this better."
Me: "I don't really think this is something you make better. You give it a shot. It works or it doesn't. No big deal."
- He then takes a piece of pork chop out of his to go box, WIPES IT DOWN MY BARE ARM, and says, "That's right. I just rubbed meat on your arm."
No really folks. THIS happened. I looked around for cameras because really...that did NOT actually happen!
- I wipe the sauce (tasty luckily) off of my arm and sit in shock.
Him: "I guess this is over."
Me: Angered silence
Him: "I can't believe I fucked this up. How did I fuck this up?"
Again, the conversations WITH yourself while on a date. NOT ok. I'm currently planning the escape route to my car and THAT is my only thought.
- We walk across the street to my car. I point at my Trailblazer to indicate that it belongs to me because I can NOT talk at this point.
Him: "Well if you needed any positive affirmation, I'm about to stick this to go box through the broken out window of my ghetto car, so you made the right deicision."
Me: "I'm going home now."
- I drive home in complete and utter shock. What the hell just happened?!!!
To make matters worse, my phone wasn't working so I couldn't call anyone. I almost went to a bar and sat by myself, but I just couldn't take any social interaction at that point. Not even with a bartender. I placed my hands on my head and waited patiently for morning to come so I could share the story with Nads and Shine and make sure they did NOT in fact pull some major prank on me. They didn't. It happened.
And THAT is what happens when a pork chop becomes a loofah. THAT boy was a whole OTHER kind of white meat!!!
I met a guy online. For the most part the online thing has been a success, but THIS guy was "different". I talked to him a lot and he was ALL about me from the word hello. Red flag #842 that I chose to completely ignore. He'd led a hard life and really straightened himself out, so it seemed, and he entertained me. So, I gave it a shot. He wanted a full on date (like he had a theme prepared), I said..."Let's just grab a beer." Thank God for that! There is no way to type this story and do it any justice, so I'm just going to use bullet points to help me. Before you ask, no I'm not exaggerating and yes this really did happen. It's long, but I PROMISE it's worth it!
- He picks the WORST bar in Dallas. Horrible, shady, awful place.
I gave him the bar choice since he allowed me to just have a beer rather than go on his super themed date.
- We meet and he is wearing skinny jeans. Yes, SKINNY jeans on a 6'2" man. Tight, faded black, and a wallet with a chain.
Seriously, I would have just turned around if we weren't the only two people in the bar. I'm not even slightly into fashion, but really?
- We're there less than 5 minutes when the DJ starts to do a mic check because they have freestyle rap on Mondays (yeah, NOT kidding). This is "his" bar though so he knows they do this. However he freaked out after they said "testing, testing, 123" for the second time and said, "We're leaving. This is ridiculous. I can't believe how loud they are being. We can't talk."
Ok, the fact that he wanted quiet so we could chat is sweet, but it's a BAR. It's going to be louder than a whisper and truthfully the freak out was a bit much.
- We walk outside to go to the bar across the street. He lights up a cigarette (fyi, I don't smoke and he knows I'm not a fan).
Him: "Do you mind if I smoke? Actually it doesn't matter if you mind or not. I thought about not smoking for the 45 minutes, or however long this date lasted, but then I thought Eh, Fuck it."
Me: .... (in my head) Did he JUST have a conversation with himself?
- We get there and the Cowboys game is on at the bar. He hates football. For those of you that don't know me, this is a HUGE issue. However, I knew I was missing the game that night so it was fine. Now this bar has an awesome outdoor patio. It's a beautiful night, he hates football, and he smokes. So where does he choose to sit? Inside. Genius. We are there long enough to order a beer and his food. He starts to calm down (I'm chalking all of this so far up to nerves). As soon as his food arrives, he needs a cigarette and asks me to join his outside. I do and I make the mistake of making coversation.
Me: "So, you said you hadn't really been social in a while. What made you decide to breakout into the online dating world?"
Him: "I DON'T want to talk about it."
Me: .....
Him: "How about you?"
Me: "Well, I haven't dated in a while and I wanted to meet new people, get in some practice talking to men again, and really just get out in the dating world."
Him: "OH."
He stands up and walks back in the bar leaving me on the patio. Alone.
My purse is inside, so I can't just leave. What the hell was that? Is he mad? Seriously?
- So, in schock, I go back inside.
Him: "So what you're saying is, I'm a throw away date? No, no...I totally get it."
(In my head) Hey psycho, it had nothing to do with you or your insecurities. Calm the EFF down.
Me (out loud): "You aren't (I should've said weren't but I was trying to be nice and keep psycho from going all Norman Bates on me). Isn't it really all practice until you find the person you are supposed to be with? Also, I felt like you and I might be looking for different things. That is why I wanted to meet in a casual environment first."
Him: "Well yeah, I knew it was going to take a couple of dates to get you in bed."
No really, he SAID this. Also, I've gone to bitch status on making the sex. I flat out tell them "The sex is not going to happen, this is NOT a challenge. I've done the casual thing and I'm out."
Me: ..... "I told you I wasn't going to sleep with you."
Him: "You all say that, but you don't actually mean it."
Now, for truth's sake, I'll give him this one. Many women throw that out as a challenge and then bend. However, a tip, don't TELL the woman you expected she was lying.
Me: "You picked the wrong girl."
- So, the silent awkwardness begins. He begins to box up his food and is about to drop the box on the floor or himself, so I grab it to steady the to go container for him.
Him: "Don't TOUCH the box. I got this. I'm on a mission."
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?
- We move outside.
Him: "Well, I'm not sleeping with anyone now, so I guess if I don't sleep with you right away either then it's ok. I mean, I'll chop off my penis if you want. Wait, I love my penis. I didn't mean that."
Me: ....
Him: "So where would you like to go next?"
Me: "Ummmm....it's late. You have an early meeting and it's only Monday. I think I'm done."
Him: "OH, so I you're not having a good time? You're ready to LEAVE?"
Me: "Ummm, it doesn't seem like YOU are having a good time."
Him: "No, I'm having a GREAT time. I mean, how bad is it? On a scale of 1-10?"
Me: "I feel answering THAT would be a very bad idea."
Him: "No really. I KNOW I can make this better."
Me: "I don't really think this is something you make better. You give it a shot. It works or it doesn't. No big deal."
- He then takes a piece of pork chop out of his to go box, WIPES IT DOWN MY BARE ARM, and says, "That's right. I just rubbed meat on your arm."
No really folks. THIS happened. I looked around for cameras because really...that did NOT actually happen!
- I wipe the sauce (tasty luckily) off of my arm and sit in shock.
Him: "I guess this is over."
Me: Angered silence
Him: "I can't believe I fucked this up. How did I fuck this up?"
Again, the conversations WITH yourself while on a date. NOT ok. I'm currently planning the escape route to my car and THAT is my only thought.
- We walk across the street to my car. I point at my Trailblazer to indicate that it belongs to me because I can NOT talk at this point.
Him: "Well if you needed any positive affirmation, I'm about to stick this to go box through the broken out window of my ghetto car, so you made the right deicision."
Me: "I'm going home now."
- I drive home in complete and utter shock. What the hell just happened?!!!
To make matters worse, my phone wasn't working so I couldn't call anyone. I almost went to a bar and sat by myself, but I just couldn't take any social interaction at that point. Not even with a bartender. I placed my hands on my head and waited patiently for morning to come so I could share the story with Nads and Shine and make sure they did NOT in fact pull some major prank on me. They didn't. It happened.
And THAT is what happens when a pork chop becomes a loofah. THAT boy was a whole OTHER kind of white meat!!!
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