And men aren't the only ones to act like utter assclowns on dates or towards the opposite sex; women, too, have this ability. Myself included. In order to write this blog, I've obviously had to go back and recount all of the terrible dates that I've had the misfortune of going on and all of the detriments to society whom I've encountered-- so I figured I'd be fair and briefly focus on some of the stunts I've pulled with men. Trust me, there are quite a few times where I've been a bit of a puta ('bitch' in Spanish), but to name some recent affairs....
It usually starts out with the guy acting like a douchebag (shocking!), but ends (ha... but ends) with me a douchebaggette:
1. A few weeks ago, I went out with a guy who I met in Union Square. At the time, I caught him smiling at me and of course I gave him a "WTF?" look (Thanks for this, island of Manhattan). Long story short, I stopped being a bitch and we decided to go for coffee that following Sunday. A cup of coffee turned into 6 cocktails and 6 cocktails turned into him going off about the "amazing Pacific Heights condo" he recently purchased, his two Audis that he owns, and how he and I should plan a trip to NYC sometime (ummm, we just met...). And so this resulted in my tuning him out, thinking to myself amidst my soon-to-be vodka coma how he wears his pants a tad too high and how his supposed Pac Heights condo, not one but two Audis and his desire to travel with me does not make up for that fact that he does indeed have an unfortunate Jew 'fro. All in all: a great date, eh? [note the sarcasm]
So at this point, I should obviously have sipped the last sips of my 47th greyhound, thanked him for the drinks and the fact that he owns not one, but TWO Audis, and put my ass in a cab and head on home Cinderella-style (meaning: before midnight)... but instead, I put my game face on and brought out my inner tease. I interrupted his current boring, bragtastic discussion of Yale and told him that I wanted to play pool. No "interested in playing pool? or care for a game of billiards?" just "get up, sucker. Em wants to pay some pool!" I played an excellent game, brutally introduced him to my competitive nature and pointed out all of the mistakes he was making (basically, all of the shit I hate that some men do). Then when his jugular was exposed and he was defeated, I sat on his lap, flirted, teased and then left the bar in a blink of an eye. Poof! Gone! I'm sure he headed home $100 poorer and wondering who/what he just went out with. This seemingly cool, savvy blonde turned into a whirlwind of vodka, emotion and condescension in a matter of minutes. Good at Irish Goodbyes? Yes, I'd say so. *adds this skill to resume*
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2. Then there was the time that I was dating two guys at the same time, who hung out in the same circle and were "friends." I finally chose one over the other to date exclusively. The Other One was really hurt and became a professional Emily-hater, The Chosen One eventually went to jail for getting into a drunken fight over me on Sunset Blvd. with the Non-Chosen One, and we all became one big, happy family. (except not really.)
3. Or the time when I received a text from a guy (who hadn't even taken me out on our first date yet, keep in mind) asking me to go into the bathroom and take a photo of myself (don't even get me started on THAT kind of douchey behavior, boys and girls...). I told him 'fat chance' and that I was out to dinner with my friends' band who were in town on tour. He persisted. And persisted. And persisted. So the lead singer took my phone into the bathroom, took a photo of his junk and sent it to the guy. Voila. Boom. Done. Problem solved. [side note: lead singer was a gentleman and deleted all evidence of that photo, so I didn't see it thankfully].
Yes, this was pretty freaking hilarious at the time (still is, actually) and I appreciate my guy friends for taking care of this Toolbag for me in a creative, albeit possibly-incriminating way... but I probably could've handled it on a more mature matter. Oh well.
But on that note.... is it simply a human's innate response to act like a complete nincompoop when they're uncomfortable? Even when another human's feelings or opinions are at risk? I'm certainly guilty of doing the ever-seductive withholding dance when I feel like a guy is moving too fast with me or isn't giving me and us enough space (yes, men, believe it or not, even YOU can be too clingy and available!)
I've been uber annoyed when guys become too available and too *gasp!* sweet, yet I've also willed some unavailable asshole to love me back for months at a time (ahhhh, denial... how I miss thee.)
I've become restless, pissed off and just plain crazy when a guy isn't texting or emailing back, yet I've rolled my eyes at and ignored certain texts or emails from perfectly nice men who are just trying to win my approval by not playing games.
Hang●over \hang-o-ver\
●noun
1. A let down after a period of euphoria.
2. Something remaining from a previous state or time.
Symptoms:
- Weakness, fatigue, headache, nausea and vomiting.
- Irritability, depression, anxiety and decreased sleep.
Sounds about right to me.
And at this point, does one keep on truckin,' throw on some stilettos or a tie (or both-- hey, I'm not here to judge) and go out on a Friday night with an open-mind and a hopeful disposition?
....Or quit drinking all together?
--Emily
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