There is a moment when we all feel more desperate than normal, right? I tell myself all the time that everyone is just as desperate as me and we are all in this together like one big happy family. Well all the single people right? Desperate? Do I really keep talking about my desperation? Yup, but why not just keep the illusion up that I'm not alone and you can all agree with me! COOL thanks, you guys are way better than my imaginary friends from yesteryear (2007). Well this Christmas Eve tale is focused jusssst around that kind of desperation.
It was November 2010 and I was trying to get myself in to the holiday spirit. I was living at home, sleeping in the same room that I refused to update from high school because, in my true fabulously stubborn nature, I believed I wouldn't be living there much longer. This meant that I got to look at all of my horrible hair styles from the eary 00's (think N'Sync before they were certifiably hot)
(actually that last statement was blasphemous...they were always hot. except for one of them. Im looking at you Chris Kirkpatrick. You all didn't even know his name...he was the dreads.)
I also got to look at my posters and pictures I cut out from magazines from when I was 16. This was slightly disturbing because, while both the celebs and I have grown up since then...these photos have not. So staring at a 17 year old Jesse McCartney just felt wrong.
At his faux-stepmothers house he suggested we get together the next day because he has no idea when he will be moving to his best friends house. She just has to call him back so it could be ANY day and I shouldn't lose this opportunity. Manipulation Nation. I told him we'd talk. *spoiler alert: we never talked again* Moral of this story: sometimes you need to listen to your gut and the confusing percentages OkCupid gives you.
It was November 2010 and I was trying to get myself in to the holiday spirit. I was living at home, sleeping in the same room that I refused to update from high school because, in my true fabulously stubborn nature, I believed I wouldn't be living there much longer. This meant that I got to look at all of my horrible hair styles from the eary 00's (think N'Sync before they were certifiably hot)
I also got to look at my posters and pictures I cut out from magazines from when I was 16. This was slightly disturbing because, while both the celebs and I have grown up since then...these photos have not. So staring at a 17 year old Jesse McCartney just felt wrong.
It was at this point that I decided to give into this person who had sent me three messages in 24 hours letting me know he was really into my smile and my eyes. This would creep most people out, but when you are looking at 17 year old Jesse McCartney before you go to bed every night, you end up not judging people as much. So I responded to Batshit Crazy and checked out our profiles to see how compatible we were.
OkCupid let me know that I was a 53% Match with this person, we were 34% friends, and like 45% enemy. Don't ask me how the site does their math or if those three are supposed to add up to 100%, because they never, ever, ever do. Now this would normally send me a-runnin', but as we can see from the above photos and statements...I was feeling needy. After a few messages, Batshit Crazy and I decided to meet up and go to the movies and dinner. Typical date. What. Could. Go. Wrong? HA, I always asked myself that...and yet here I am, writing to you all about the woes of singledom.
Batshit Crazy called me the day of our date to let me know I would need to pick him up because he didn't have a car. (Red Flag #1) (I have obviously decided to disregard everything OkCupid told me about us not being a real match as red flags.) I decided to go forward with this anyways because for some odd reason I really wanted to see Morning Glory, I think it has to do with the stereotypical gay males obsession with movies about strong females...but HEY thats for my therapist to delve into!
I drove about 30min to pick up Batshit Crazy from his former stepmothers house. (read that last sentence twice and lemme know how you feel about it) I seem to have a couple issues with this. 1. I drove a crap ton for a person I'd never met. 2. He explained to me that he liked hanging out with his former stepmother, whom his father was married to for 7months, back when he was 3. (read number 2 twice and lemme know how you feel about that). I asked him if his father still spoke with this woman, Batshit Crazy said no...and then said his father didn't know he had found her and was talking to her. (Red Flag #2)
Ignoring ALLLLL of the signs that the heavenly skies had provided with me on why this date should never have happened, I let Batshit Crazy into my car and drove 25min to the movie theatre. (Red Flag #3) made an appearance almost immediately in the car when he turned to me and said,
"I'm feeling like a durrty boy today" *wink*
I laughed. Boisterously. Loudly. Trying to cover up my fear of what the rest of this date would have in store for me. (Batshit Crazy stared at me as I laughed, because he of course was DEAD serious.) The rest of the drive involved him telling me more about his dysfunctional family, his lack of a home (by choice) (Red Flag #4), and his lack of any real income (Red Flag #5).
We arrived at the movie theatre and I prayed for an earlier time so I could suggest just going straight into the movie. Little Baby Jesus was looking down on me because we were able to get into an earlier time and I said we should just get concession food for dinner...and it worked. *pats self on shoulder for a job well done* *realizes accomplishment isn't that great in the grand scheme of things and is back to a level of self deprecation he is more in tune with* As we walked in the previews began and Batshit Crazy let out a squeal that I have only heard from 11 year old girls when they glimpse a photo of Justin Bieber in the magazine they purchased...which is about Justin Bieber. He turned to me and let me know how he adored movies and hugged me....*shivers* (Red Flag #6)
As soon as we sit down Batshit Crazy grabs my hand and says "I can only watch a movie if I am holding someone specials hand" *wink*.....Ummm what? You can only...what? You must not get out often sir. Unless you lure men in with your incessant messaging and you suggest to all of them that you want to be taken to the movies. Then the only person who is really special is you. Dear SIR you have now made me...confused, lost, and am I feeling a bit of jealousy? The last part concerns me too, don't worry you can judge me. (Red Flag #7)
The movie is playing and playing and playing....it wasn't a very good movie. Damn you and your infectious smile Rachel McAdams, I would have canceled this date had I known it was so bad. The unthinkable happens about 45min into this never ending movie. I turn to get my drink and as I released my hand from his now moist (love or hate the word...thats what this was) hand, he leans over and plants one on me. This is the sloppiest of the sloppy kisses because I had been ambushed and I also didn't reciprocate the Kirby-esque suction thing he was now doing to my face. I feared for my lips and for the severe PTSD I was going to experience whenever his tight suction grip let loose of my poor face. As he pulled back he looked at me with a smile and said that was the nicest kiss he had had in awhile. Really? REALLY? (Red Flag #8)
The real kicker comes about 120 seconds post-aggressive gorilla attack when Batshit Crazy looks at me with shear terror and says,
"I'm not a slut. I don't do this with everyone. I'm not really a durrty little boy"
This grouping of sentences causes my skin to crawl to this day. Let us dissect this like one would dissect a frog in 7th grade Science class.
1. "I'm not a slut" - you attacked my face with a kiss...you didn't grab at my junk or try to go down on me. I think we can all agree not being a good kisser usually means the OPPOSITE of being a slut. (Red Flag #9)
2. "I don't do this often"- Hard to believe...you're kinda a slut. (Red Flag #10)
3. "I'm not really a durrty little boy"- well thats good because you are 22 years old and far from a little boy. I don't want to know what you mean by durrty but I really think you should take a shower when you get back to your faux-stepmothers home. (Red Flags #11-20)
I ignored his sentence and prayed that a weapon of mass destruction would somehow find its way to the Columbia Mall just so this date would have a better ending than it was probably going to have. After the movie, I ended up driving him home as he told me his plans to move to Northern PA to be near a friend. This is a friend he hadn't really spoken to in a couple years but she has a big house from what he remembers...didn't think she would mind. (Red Flag #21...don't know why Im still counting flags)
Internet Dating: 4
Fabulously Lost: 0
Red Flags: #winning
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