Okay, as I was saying, dear READER, (Sup Jen. What's going on? How was your pizza?) I'm entering into some uncharted territory here, and I thought I'd share it with you because it's NOT pompous and self-centered to believe anybody gives a day-old shit about what's going on in my life.
This may be obvious to the outside observer: I'm totally single. Totally, completely, terminally single. This means that I'm allowed to go out and meet dudes. I recently met one such dude, and was rather proud or myself because for fucking ONCE we don't work together. We met at a coffee shop. (Hello? Cliche? Can you call me back? I think we have a bad connection.) We talked and he seemed pretty unretarded, had the use of all four limbs and he could use words and stuff. All in all we were off to a good start. He walked me back to work and I, in a totally bold, un-me move, gave him my phone number. He called and we went out for a drink and I, in a totally bold, un-me move, did NOT get pantshittingly drunk and went home que solo. Then my good pal Jennifer came to visit and I dusted off my drunken-tard-whore mantle, got hammered and made out with the kid. Oh yes "kid" implies he's younger than I. What else would you expect? Primordial Dwarfism? Yeah, I guess that's a safe bet too.
Post-make out I was having second thoughts. The very idea of him made me feel a little queasy. Maybe it's because I was wicked hungover, or maybe it was his gingerism, either way I was having regrets. Here's where I get into unknown territory. This has never happened to me before. I've never liked a guy, hooked up with him, and then been over it. I've always gone from MO to clinger in t-minus 2 days. This is totally new, and to be completely honest, pretty fucking great.
I'm snubbing. I've never been the snubber, only the snubee. This is fun. I've been using all sorts of tricks that I didn't know were in my arsenal. So far my favorite is the "Call back 30 seconds before you drive out of range of a cell tower". I've done that twice. Also, the "Pretend to not get text until the next day and weave elaborate tale of how you were busy trying to cajole a 4 year-old into taking a dump." I do these things because I'm a dick and I don't want to be honest and say to him "Listen, Ginger, I really like my life and I don't need any supplement to it. I'm going to go home, hang out with my rag-tag band of roomates and a four year old child. I might watch an episode of Starship Galactica. I might read the first 3 pages of a self-help book and fall asleep. I don't know. I don't know if I'll have enough time. I have to get up super early tomorrow to sit at the coffee table and drink 4 cups of coffee before I eventually pour myself into my bathing suit and decrode on the beach for 3 hours. At any rate, what I'm trying to say is that it's not me. I'm perfect. It's you. You're not a good fit for my awesome life. Sorry. I'll keep your resume on file in case I get depressed and lonely at some point. Chances are that I will, but I probably won't call you. That's what booze is for." I wish I could just say that to him, because I'm sure he'd just be like "Uh, okay psycho. It's called 'Battlestar Galactica'. Thanks for letting me know. I'm all tore up. I'll go bang the same 19 year old Scottish chick you saw me talking to when we met at the coffee shop. Good luck with your wicked fun life."
I'm not trying to be mean. I find that real meanness only occurs when you're not trying. So although I'm not trying to I probably am. Whatever, I'm just a scared little douche trying to get through the day, and it's making me kind of happy to be able to snub for once in my life. If you're going to begrudge me that you fucking suck. Get off my blog......No. Wait. COME BACK. I'm sorry. I was wrong. You don't suck, you're allowed to have an opinion too. I love you. NO I love YOU.
Wait, fuck. Did I tell him I had a blog?
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