I know I swore I would never mention him again, but I'm going to have to break that promise. That's right, I'm talking about our inaugural member into the Fuckwit Hall of Shame: John Boy. You might remember John Boy. He's the one who decided to pull off a stealthy disappearance even though we were just friends. And stole two of my books in the process.
I have never heard from John Boy in any way, shape, or form since the lone phone call he gave me between his vacation and departure date, assuring me he would call soon and wanted to see me again. In fact, I've pretty much forgotten about his existence. Until last week, when his name popped up somewhere on my facebook page. I decided to give him a click and see what he's been up to. (It's not facebook stalking if you don't actively seek them out. Really.)
Imagine my surprise when I saw that he was now "In a Relationship." Not only that, but I immediately recognized the name as one of his friends he was on vacation with. If you recall, John Boy emailed me nearly everyday from his tropical location to give me updates, and on the last day sent me a final email telling me he was really looking forward to seeing me when he got home, but I was never to see him again. Now I know something happened on that last night to change that.
The good news is, when I saw this, I immediately laughed out loud. Clearly, I've moved on. Then I started to get a bit pissed. John Boy had become a very good friend to me. I always had fun with him, and liked talking to him. No, I don't do long distance relationships, but I have plenty of long distance friends. Hell, Fenella and I don't even live on the same continent, but we talk regularly. So why did he think he needed to pull a disappearance? Did he think I cared that much? Or maybe it was just that he cared that much?
While I was staring at his facebook page and laughing, I was tempted to write on his wall, "I want my books back, dammit!" but I refrained. Now I promise I will never mention him on this blog again. Really.
Showing posts with label The Disappearance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Disappearance. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The Fuckwit Hall of Shame
Oh, The Disappearance. The torture tool of choice by fuckwits everywhere. By now the entire world knows that John Boy pulled one on me. And yet, he did actually call me last week to let me know that he was still alive. He acted as if everything was fine, but I know he was hiding something. I'm going to assume it's herpes.
Of course, he assured me when I talked to him that he would call me again soon, because he really did want to see me before he left. With him scheduled to move on Wednesday, I still hadn't heard from him by Sunday night. Obviously, by this time I was seeing red and didn't want to be chummy with him, but I still had unfinished business: I wanted my books back.
So I called him and left a message that I would swing by his place on Tuesday afternoon to collect my books. He didn't respond. (Was I surprised? Of course not.) On Tuesday morning I sent a text. No response. When I finished at work, I called again. He didn't answer. I got in my car and drove to his place. With him leaving on Wednesday, he should be home, packing up all his stuff.
I told Grayer that I was planning on going over there to get my books back, and she told me, "that better be all you do." Unless, of course, I poked around his medicine cabinet to find out which STD he was hiding. I assured her I would pick up my books and leave, but I did wear a super cute dress just to remind him what he had missed out on.
As I got closer, I started to feel really silly. Was I really going over to his house? On the off-chance that he would be there? But yes, I was. I really wanted to re-read Ordinary People, dammit! As I pulled on to his street, No Doubt's "Don't Speak" came on the radio. I laughed at the appropriateness of it, and wondered if it was a sign. For what, I don't know. Although I still got out and knocked on the door, it didn't take long for me to realize no one was home. His truck wasn't there. It was official. I was never going to see John Boy again.
He's Just Not That Into You says (repeatedly) "don't waste the pretty." I had no intention of wasting the pretty, so after work that night, I drove to The Highlander's so he could pay up on a bet that he lost. My cuteness was definitely not wasted on him. I believe the word "amazing" was thrown around. And he's cooking dinner for me tomorrow night. Who needs John Boy?
Besides, he is a distinguished member of the Fuckwit Hall of Fame. And he has herpes.
Of course, he assured me when I talked to him that he would call me again soon, because he really did want to see me before he left. With him scheduled to move on Wednesday, I still hadn't heard from him by Sunday night. Obviously, by this time I was seeing red and didn't want to be chummy with him, but I still had unfinished business: I wanted my books back.
So I called him and left a message that I would swing by his place on Tuesday afternoon to collect my books. He didn't respond. (Was I surprised? Of course not.) On Tuesday morning I sent a text. No response. When I finished at work, I called again. He didn't answer. I got in my car and drove to his place. With him leaving on Wednesday, he should be home, packing up all his stuff.
I told Grayer that I was planning on going over there to get my books back, and she told me, "that better be all you do." Unless, of course, I poked around his medicine cabinet to find out which STD he was hiding. I assured her I would pick up my books and leave, but I did wear a super cute dress just to remind him what he had missed out on.
As I got closer, I started to feel really silly. Was I really going over to his house? On the off-chance that he would be there? But yes, I was. I really wanted to re-read Ordinary People, dammit! As I pulled on to his street, No Doubt's "Don't Speak" came on the radio. I laughed at the appropriateness of it, and wondered if it was a sign. For what, I don't know. Although I still got out and knocked on the door, it didn't take long for me to realize no one was home. His truck wasn't there. It was official. I was never going to see John Boy again.
He's Just Not That Into You says (repeatedly) "don't waste the pretty." I had no intention of wasting the pretty, so after work that night, I drove to The Highlander's so he could pay up on a bet that he lost. My cuteness was definitely not wasted on him. I believe the word "amazing" was thrown around. And he's cooking dinner for me tomorrow night. Who needs John Boy?
Besides, he is a distinguished member of the Fuckwit Hall of Fame. And he has herpes.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Becoming Bridget
Percentage of incoming callers creating angry resentment for not being Mark Darcy-unless ringing to talk about Mark Darcy-and urged to get off the phone as quickly as possible in case blocking call from Mark Darcy- 100.
-Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason
I've been listening to The Edge of Reason the last few days, and when I heard the above lines, I laughed out loud (at the gym; I'm sure everyone thought I was crazy), because that was me last week, waiting in anticipation for John Boy's phone call. Feeling resentment at anyone who wasn't him. (And that includes both Scarlet and Grayer, and I apologize for that. I appreciate all calls.)
The older I get and the longer I remain a singleton, the funnier the escapades of Bridget are. Mostly because the older I get the more my life resembles hers, and that is a scary thought indeed.
**In case you're wondering, he still hasn't rung, and it's been ten days. Either something tragic has happened, or he is indeed an emotional fuckwitt, so unless I hear something from him, this is the last time you will hear him mentioned. I'm tired of talking about him.
Over the last week, my life seems to have taken on the form of some romantic comedy caper. Wednesday was the high (er, low?) point, when I had an earth shattering epiphany as I was getting out of the shower. I eluded to this in my recount of my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week post, but as I was getting out of the shower I realized that this is not the first time a man that I was snogging went away and came back to ignore me. Two years ago things seemed to actually be going well with McNerdy (or at least as well as they ever went with him), when he took off for two months. I heard from him pretty regularly for about the first month. Then as the second month set in, I just had this feeling something had changed. Sure enough, when he got back to town earlier than expected, I didn't find out because he called me. No, I found out with everyone else in the mass email he sent to friends and family. Then John Boy went away for two weeks, and even though I haven't heard from him in ten days, he had continued to email me right up until the day before his return, making his disappearance all the more baffling. Although, as Scarlet pointed out, every time someone pulls The Disappearance on us, we say the same thing. But apparently, while they are around, I can get my claws in them, but as soon as they leave and the claws are retracted, they seem to realize life without me isn't all bad, and therefore what's the point of an actual relationship?
As was documented in my previous post, I ate a lot of ice cream and drank wine while sitting on my couch in my underwear (hot apartment situation out of control over last week's extreme heat wave) after this realization. If I were a smoker, I'm sure I would have smoked an awful lot too (although surely too hot?). Needed calming phone call from Scarlet to assure me am not forgettable and to remind me that I am a woman of substance complete without man.
Thursday wasn't any better, as it found Scarlet perusing horoscopes until she found one that told her what she wanted (mine told me that I was making mountains out of molehills, scarily fitting), that her single days may soon be over, and I found myself googling John Boy to see if his name had popped up in any police reports/obituaries. Today my roommate offered to help me conduct a drive-by of his house, since we certainly can't be discreet in my car, which is the complete opposite of discreet. (But he lives in a cul de sac, so we can't be discreet no matter what kind of camouflage car we're driving.)
Sometimes I can't quite believe this is my life. Googling and facebook stalking a man I knew was just temporary? Considering driving by his house to see if he's there? Reading three horoscopes a day to find one that will tell me I'll meet Mr. Right? (Actually what I need now is one that will give me the winning lottery numbers...) That kind of pisses me off. Not only am I a woman of substance, but I have a lot of substance. I am intelligent and funny, and highly amusing. (I think The Highlander is v. amused by me.) And to top it all off, I have the whole "I can explain the infield fly rule" thing going on for me. I'm practically a walking wet dream. (yes, that's right, I said it.) I know I'm a proud singleton and woman of substance, but is it so wrong to want someone with which to share the substance? And what the hell is wrong with these men for not realizing that?
-Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason
I've been listening to The Edge of Reason the last few days, and when I heard the above lines, I laughed out loud (at the gym; I'm sure everyone thought I was crazy), because that was me last week, waiting in anticipation for John Boy's phone call. Feeling resentment at anyone who wasn't him. (And that includes both Scarlet and Grayer, and I apologize for that. I appreciate all calls.)
The older I get and the longer I remain a singleton, the funnier the escapades of Bridget are. Mostly because the older I get the more my life resembles hers, and that is a scary thought indeed.
**In case you're wondering, he still hasn't rung, and it's been ten days. Either something tragic has happened, or he is indeed an emotional fuckwitt, so unless I hear something from him, this is the last time you will hear him mentioned. I'm tired of talking about him.
Over the last week, my life seems to have taken on the form of some romantic comedy caper. Wednesday was the high (er, low?) point, when I had an earth shattering epiphany as I was getting out of the shower. I eluded to this in my recount of my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week post, but as I was getting out of the shower I realized that this is not the first time a man that I was snogging went away and came back to ignore me. Two years ago things seemed to actually be going well with McNerdy (or at least as well as they ever went with him), when he took off for two months. I heard from him pretty regularly for about the first month. Then as the second month set in, I just had this feeling something had changed. Sure enough, when he got back to town earlier than expected, I didn't find out because he called me. No, I found out with everyone else in the mass email he sent to friends and family. Then John Boy went away for two weeks, and even though I haven't heard from him in ten days, he had continued to email me right up until the day before his return, making his disappearance all the more baffling. Although, as Scarlet pointed out, every time someone pulls The Disappearance on us, we say the same thing. But apparently, while they are around, I can get my claws in them, but as soon as they leave and the claws are retracted, they seem to realize life without me isn't all bad, and therefore what's the point of an actual relationship?
As was documented in my previous post, I ate a lot of ice cream and drank wine while sitting on my couch in my underwear (hot apartment situation out of control over last week's extreme heat wave) after this realization. If I were a smoker, I'm sure I would have smoked an awful lot too (although surely too hot?). Needed calming phone call from Scarlet to assure me am not forgettable and to remind me that I am a woman of substance complete without man.
Thursday wasn't any better, as it found Scarlet perusing horoscopes until she found one that told her what she wanted (mine told me that I was making mountains out of molehills, scarily fitting), that her single days may soon be over, and I found myself googling John Boy to see if his name had popped up in any police reports/obituaries. Today my roommate offered to help me conduct a drive-by of his house, since we certainly can't be discreet in my car, which is the complete opposite of discreet. (But he lives in a cul de sac, so we can't be discreet no matter what kind of camouflage car we're driving.)
Sometimes I can't quite believe this is my life. Googling and facebook stalking a man I knew was just temporary? Considering driving by his house to see if he's there? Reading three horoscopes a day to find one that will tell me I'll meet Mr. Right? (Actually what I need now is one that will give me the winning lottery numbers...) That kind of pisses me off. Not only am I a woman of substance, but I have a lot of substance. I am intelligent and funny, and highly amusing. (I think The Highlander is v. amused by me.) And to top it all off, I have the whole "I can explain the infield fly rule" thing going on for me. I'm practically a walking wet dream. (yes, that's right, I said it.) I know I'm a proud singleton and woman of substance, but is it so wrong to want someone with which to share the substance? And what the hell is wrong with these men for not realizing that?
Friday, June 19, 2009
Violet and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week
I expected to spend the week snogging John Boy, but by Monday afternoon he still hadn't called, so I went out for margaritas with McNerdy, but when that was over and I had sobered up enough to realize that he STILL hadn't called, it made me sad again. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.
On Wednesday, my alarm didn't go off, so I was rushing around in the morning, and when I went to the gym after work, I realized that I brought two shirts and no shorts, so I just went home.
It was so hot in my apartment I couldn't even put pants on, and then I remembered John Boy promised to look at my A/C when he got back, but he STILL hadn't called, even after I sent him an email giving him my theories as to his whereabouts. Then after I got out of the shower, I realized that this is the second time a boy has chucked me after he went away for a little while, since things had been going well with McNerdy until he went off into the wilderness for two months and wasn't much interested in me when he came back. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.
So then I called Scarlet, because I knew she would assure me that boys didn't forget about me the moment they went on holiday, but she didn't answer, so I had to leave her a voicemail message asking her to call me back and offer moral support before I ate a pint of extreme moosetracks and finished a bottle of wine. She called me back, but not before I ate all the moosetracks and drank all the wine.
"I'm having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week!" I cried, but nobody answered, mostly because my roommate is out of town and the cat doesn't care.
I think I'll move to Australia.
I was really excited to see one of my favorite bands in concert on Friday night, but on Thursday I found out the concert was canceled. I bet they're playing in Australia.
And the worst of it came today when my boss announced everyone was going to have to take a pay cut, so I guess I really should focus more on The Highlander, since he can afford to spend more money on one dinner than I can spend in two weeks on groceries.
I bet the economy isn't this bad in Australia.
I haven't kissed anyone this week, and I love kissing.
I really need to clean, but I hate cleaning.
My apartment is still too hot to wear pants.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.
But tonight I'm going to go see a movie starring Jim Halpert himself with a beard and glasses, so it will be like heaven, and tomorrow I'm going out on a THIRD DATE with The Highlander, so it's not all bad.
Besides, everyone has bad weeks.
Even in Australia.
On Wednesday, my alarm didn't go off, so I was rushing around in the morning, and when I went to the gym after work, I realized that I brought two shirts and no shorts, so I just went home.
It was so hot in my apartment I couldn't even put pants on, and then I remembered John Boy promised to look at my A/C when he got back, but he STILL hadn't called, even after I sent him an email giving him my theories as to his whereabouts. Then after I got out of the shower, I realized that this is the second time a boy has chucked me after he went away for a little while, since things had been going well with McNerdy until he went off into the wilderness for two months and wasn't much interested in me when he came back. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.
So then I called Scarlet, because I knew she would assure me that boys didn't forget about me the moment they went on holiday, but she didn't answer, so I had to leave her a voicemail message asking her to call me back and offer moral support before I ate a pint of extreme moosetracks and finished a bottle of wine. She called me back, but not before I ate all the moosetracks and drank all the wine.
"I'm having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week!" I cried, but nobody answered, mostly because my roommate is out of town and the cat doesn't care.
I think I'll move to Australia.
I was really excited to see one of my favorite bands in concert on Friday night, but on Thursday I found out the concert was canceled. I bet they're playing in Australia.
And the worst of it came today when my boss announced everyone was going to have to take a pay cut, so I guess I really should focus more on The Highlander, since he can afford to spend more money on one dinner than I can spend in two weeks on groceries.
I bet the economy isn't this bad in Australia.
I haven't kissed anyone this week, and I love kissing.
I really need to clean, but I hate cleaning.
My apartment is still too hot to wear pants.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week.
But tonight I'm going to go see a movie starring Jim Halpert himself with a beard and glasses, so it will be like heaven, and tomorrow I'm going out on a THIRD DATE with The Highlander, so it's not all bad.
Besides, everyone has bad weeks.
Even in Australia.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
May you be cursed with perpetual diarrhea
I know, I know. John Boy is NOT my boyfriend. But it is now Wednesday, he returned to the country on Saturday, and I have heard nary a peep from him since Saturday night. I know that we have all been victim of The Disappearance, but this is truly baffling. The last email I received from him said "look forward to seeing you when I get back" and he did text me upon landing, and then did (eventually) call on Saturday night. So when I got no response to the voicemail I left Monday, I sent him an email listing all the possible things I think have happened to him since Saturday night that have prevented him from picking up the phone. (And before you judge my list, I just want to point out that we have a very loose, casual relationship that doesn't know serious, so I never really worried about the appropriateness of it.)
1. He acquired a parasite before leaving Costa Rica, and hasn't been able to leave the toilet since returning home.
2. He came home with a souvenir of a different variety, i.e. syphilis, gonorrhea, the clap, herpes or the like and is a bit embarrassed to tell me as much, seeing as I expressly warned him to stay away from Costa Rican hookers.
3. He is Married/Engaged to said Costa Rican hooker.
4. He has always been Married/Engaged to someone else the entire time I've known him and has just done a really good job of covering it up.
5. He missed me so much while away for only two weeks that he decided to cut off ties immediately.
6. He's just not that into me. (Which kind of goes against everything he's have ever said or done, but seeing as the status of our relationship is that of friends, I'm not sure why this requires pulling off a Disappearance.)
7. He liked those books I lent him so much that he doesn't want to return them. (And I REALLY WANT THOSE BACK.)
8. It was actually he who told me The Disappearance is usually resorted to after finding out something you just can't live with about the other party. Not sure what sort of savory tidbit he could have unearthed on me while in the jungle, so I think I may have to cross this one off the list.
9. He had a major life epiphany: decided he was gay, that his best friend was the true love of his life, and ran off to Iowa or Maine to be married immediately.
I even pointed out to him that I really have no right to be angry at him for not calling (hoping that he won't avoid calling due to fear of the repercussions), and that I really just want to make sure he's still alive. And that I want my books back.
When The Heavy Breather pulled off The Disappearance, I was simply pissed. I had been wanting to break things off with him, and he disappeared before I could. And while I am pissed off now (rage is apparently good for my softball game), I'm more hurt than anything else. I'm getting the heavy pit in my stomach when I realize I haven't heard from him. Which only makes me more aware of the fact that if I had truly accepted him as only temporary, I wouldn't be this upset over it. I mean, he's already guilty of so many of my other dealbreakers, why not add one more?
1. He acquired a parasite before leaving Costa Rica, and hasn't been able to leave the toilet since returning home.
2. He came home with a souvenir of a different variety, i.e. syphilis, gonorrhea, the clap, herpes or the like and is a bit embarrassed to tell me as much, seeing as I expressly warned him to stay away from Costa Rican hookers.
3. He is Married/Engaged to said Costa Rican hooker.
4. He has always been Married/Engaged to someone else the entire time I've known him and has just done a really good job of covering it up.
5. He missed me so much while away for only two weeks that he decided to cut off ties immediately.
6. He's just not that into me. (Which kind of goes against everything he's have ever said or done, but seeing as the status of our relationship is that of friends, I'm not sure why this requires pulling off a Disappearance.)
7. He liked those books I lent him so much that he doesn't want to return them. (And I REALLY WANT THOSE BACK.)
8. It was actually he who told me The Disappearance is usually resorted to after finding out something you just can't live with about the other party. Not sure what sort of savory tidbit he could have unearthed on me while in the jungle, so I think I may have to cross this one off the list.
9. He had a major life epiphany: decided he was gay, that his best friend was the true love of his life, and ran off to Iowa or Maine to be married immediately.
I even pointed out to him that I really have no right to be angry at him for not calling (hoping that he won't avoid calling due to fear of the repercussions), and that I really just want to make sure he's still alive. And that I want my books back.
When The Heavy Breather pulled off The Disappearance, I was simply pissed. I had been wanting to break things off with him, and he disappeared before I could. And while I am pissed off now (rage is apparently good for my softball game), I'm more hurt than anything else. I'm getting the heavy pit in my stomach when I realize I haven't heard from him. Which only makes me more aware of the fact that if I had truly accepted him as only temporary, I wouldn't be this upset over it. I mean, he's already guilty of so many of my other dealbreakers, why not add one more?
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Fuckwittage confirmed
I had complete confidence in The Engineer. He gave me absolutely no reason to doubt him…until now. Last Monday he sent his usual “what does your schedule look like this week” email and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner or have him cook me dinner at his place. After I responded, he suggested a restaurant on my way home so I wouldn’t have as long of a drive. He called the night before the date and we chatted and finalized the details for the date. Looking back everything seemed completely normal. The engineer even emailed me on Friday as if nothing was wrong and explained that he worked late the last two days but there was no apology for canceling the date nor has he called. This of course confused me further.
As you are not quite as emotionally involved, you may have already guessed based on my previous post and my intro…The Engineer committed one of the worst dating sins…the disappearance. (This has been discussed previously by Violet.) The problem with the disappearance is that you are stripped of your right of closure. Even worse is a sudden disappearance. In all of my previous relationships there was a withdrawal period prior to the break up. The withdrawal period gives you a chance to emotionally check out of the relationship so that when the breakup actually occurs it is like shedding a burden rather than a complete surprise.
So all weekend I was feeling shell shocked and somewhat in denial. I tried to keep busy and hung out with friends and family. All this time I was asking myself, “How did this happen? Why won’t he call?” After dating for almost two months and communicating almost daily, I couldn’t believe The Engineer was capable of such complete and utter fuckwittage. I kept thinking to myself, “There must be some mistake!” But I knew deep down that I needed to accept that maybe just maybe The Engineer was a fuckwit disguised as a nice guy.
Yes I know I am a woman of substance, complete without boyfriend. Not only am I awesome but I’m also hotter and younger than The Engineer so this is clearly his loss…so why couldn’t I stop staring at my phone waiting for it to ring?
I broke down and called him on Saturday but after a few rings it went to voice mail. So I sent a text saying that I didn’t know what was going on but it looked like he was blowing me off and I’d appreciate a call. Yet still I got no response! Finally on Sunday evening he emailed me…
[To be continued.]
As you are not quite as emotionally involved, you may have already guessed based on my previous post and my intro…The Engineer committed one of the worst dating sins…the disappearance. (This has been discussed previously by Violet.) The problem with the disappearance is that you are stripped of your right of closure. Even worse is a sudden disappearance. In all of my previous relationships there was a withdrawal period prior to the break up. The withdrawal period gives you a chance to emotionally check out of the relationship so that when the breakup actually occurs it is like shedding a burden rather than a complete surprise.
So all weekend I was feeling shell shocked and somewhat in denial. I tried to keep busy and hung out with friends and family. All this time I was asking myself, “How did this happen? Why won’t he call?” After dating for almost two months and communicating almost daily, I couldn’t believe The Engineer was capable of such complete and utter fuckwittage. I kept thinking to myself, “There must be some mistake!” But I knew deep down that I needed to accept that maybe just maybe The Engineer was a fuckwit disguised as a nice guy.
Yes I know I am a woman of substance, complete without boyfriend. Not only am I awesome but I’m also hotter and younger than The Engineer so this is clearly his loss…so why couldn’t I stop staring at my phone waiting for it to ring?
I broke down and called him on Saturday but after a few rings it went to voice mail. So I sent a text saying that I didn’t know what was going on but it looked like he was blowing me off and I’d appreciate a call. Yet still I got no response! Finally on Sunday evening he emailed me…
[To be continued.]
Sunday, November 30, 2008
The Disappearing Act
As I mentioned in my answer to last week's Question of the Week, my biggest dating pet peeve is the disappearance. Sadly, I've been a victim of the disappearance. Remember The Heavy Breather? Yup, he was the guilty party. And before I smear his reputation, let me just say that overall, he's a very good guy. But as we all know far too well, fuckwittage can happen to good people.
After we had been seeing each other for just over a month (both on the rebound, remember) The Heavy Breather started to annoy me. His lame jokes were no longer cute, they were groan inducing, and I suddenly realized that he had this horribly annoying habit of saying "Well, if it makes you feel any better..." after I said anything that was slightly negative or complaining (or even if I wasn't, it was really weird. Come to think about it, maybe he was trying to steer the conversation back to himself?) But I decided to give him one more chance not to annoy me. Only then he disappeared. He stopped calling. He was suddenly busy. The last straw was when he suggested getting together on a particular Friday night, then five minutes later, he told me that Friday night really wasn't good for him. Excuse me? So I told him to quit being a fuckwit (and yes, I used that term, he told me later he had to look it up in the urban dictionary).
In order to give you all the details, here is the conversation Scarlet and I had just after this happened, saved forever thanks to gmail. (And yes, all our conversations are this fascinating.)
V: I have serious news for you
it's about The Heavy Breather
S: oh?
V: oh yes
So he emails me today and asks what I want to do on Friday, so I tell him
I suggest a movie, and I even send him a link to the showtimes and the theaters in which it is playing
I did all the work
so he emails me back (this is all within a few hours) and tells me he doesn't think he has time for a movie, maybe just some ice cream or maybe not at all and maybe hanging out on Friday is just a bad idea
WTF?!?!?!
S: why did he even bother to email you
V: I don't know
S: he could have just let it go...it would have been less awkward
V: oh there's more
so I'm checking my e-mail before Ugly Betty, and he dinks me to tell me he's sorry again about tomorrow night
I said ok
then he says he thought he'd have more time, but there's things he needs to talk to me about
so I borrowed a phrase from Bridget Jones and did something I've never ever done before, and told him it seemed like complete fuckwittage
S: HAHAHA
V: thank you
S: and his response?
V: I believe he was quite shocked
S: by the way...well played
V: thank you very much
S: it was time to either address his so called fuckwittage or to get your stuff and end all contact
V: then I told him, Let me get this straight. You disappear. Then you make plans for Friday. THen you email me to ask me what I want to do on Friday (with no qualifiers) then you tell me you don't know if you even have time to hang out at all
COMPLETE FUCKWITTAGE!
Honestly, when I got his email response, I was seething
S: yeah I would be
he is such a tease
...
V: So he sent me an apology email, and I'm working on the response
...
S: he didn't respond to your comment explaining his fuckwittage?
V: "To b completely honest, I've been meaning to hang out with you for a while, if for no other reason than because I want to talk with you about a few things and I want us to be able to remain friends -- I'm hoping that I haven't completely screwed up the latter."
his words, by the way
S: so basically he only wants to hang out with you to say that he doesn't want to date you anymore and he wanted it to be something quick so he can get it over with and be on his way
V: well, yes
S: good way to initiate that friends thing
V: right
by ignoring me for three weeks
I'm trying to think of a plan of rebuttal
S: gotta say...I would have never guessed he could be such a jerk
do you really think he wants to be friends with you?
V: I actually do
...
he's ignored me, but on the rare occasion that I have talked to him, he's all friendly and stuff
S: yeah but that could be just because at heart he is a nice guy
V: right
underneath all the fuckwittage
****
The thing is, I knew he was dating someone else, and I didn't really care. He is a serial monogamist (this happened only about a year ago, and he has had two serious girlfriends in that time.), and I was, as I am known to do, about to leave the country for an extended period of time, so we both knew it wasn't going anywhere. Why did he feel the need to avoid me? It only made things worse.
After we had been seeing each other for just over a month (both on the rebound, remember) The Heavy Breather started to annoy me. His lame jokes were no longer cute, they were groan inducing, and I suddenly realized that he had this horribly annoying habit of saying "Well, if it makes you feel any better..." after I said anything that was slightly negative or complaining (or even if I wasn't, it was really weird. Come to think about it, maybe he was trying to steer the conversation back to himself?) But I decided to give him one more chance not to annoy me. Only then he disappeared. He stopped calling. He was suddenly busy. The last straw was when he suggested getting together on a particular Friday night, then five minutes later, he told me that Friday night really wasn't good for him. Excuse me? So I told him to quit being a fuckwit (and yes, I used that term, he told me later he had to look it up in the urban dictionary).
In order to give you all the details, here is the conversation Scarlet and I had just after this happened, saved forever thanks to gmail. (And yes, all our conversations are this fascinating.)
V: I have serious news for you
it's about The Heavy Breather
S: oh?
V: oh yes
So he emails me today and asks what I want to do on Friday, so I tell him
I suggest a movie, and I even send him a link to the showtimes and the theaters in which it is playing
I did all the work
so he emails me back (this is all within a few hours) and tells me he doesn't think he has time for a movie, maybe just some ice cream or maybe not at all and maybe hanging out on Friday is just a bad idea
WTF?!?!?!
S: why did he even bother to email you
V: I don't know
S: he could have just let it go...it would have been less awkward
V: oh there's more
so I'm checking my e-mail before Ugly Betty, and he dinks me to tell me he's sorry again about tomorrow night
I said ok
then he says he thought he'd have more time, but there's things he needs to talk to me about
so I borrowed a phrase from Bridget Jones and did something I've never ever done before, and told him it seemed like complete fuckwittage
S: HAHAHA
V: thank you
S: and his response?
V: I believe he was quite shocked
S: by the way...well played
V: thank you very much
S: it was time to either address his so called fuckwittage or to get your stuff and end all contact
V: then I told him, Let me get this straight. You disappear. Then you make plans for Friday. THen you email me to ask me what I want to do on Friday (with no qualifiers) then you tell me you don't know if you even have time to hang out at all
COMPLETE FUCKWITTAGE!
Honestly, when I got his email response, I was seething
S: yeah I would be
he is such a tease
...
V: So he sent me an apology email, and I'm working on the response
...
S: he didn't respond to your comment explaining his fuckwittage?
V: "To b completely honest, I've been meaning to hang out with you for a while, if for no other reason than because I want to talk with you about a few things and I want us to be able to remain friends -- I'm hoping that I haven't completely screwed up the latter."
his words, by the way
S: so basically he only wants to hang out with you to say that he doesn't want to date you anymore and he wanted it to be something quick so he can get it over with and be on his way
V: well, yes
S: good way to initiate that friends thing
V: right
by ignoring me for three weeks
I'm trying to think of a plan of rebuttal
S: gotta say...I would have never guessed he could be such a jerk
do you really think he wants to be friends with you?
V: I actually do
...
he's ignored me, but on the rare occasion that I have talked to him, he's all friendly and stuff
S: yeah but that could be just because at heart he is a nice guy
V: right
underneath all the fuckwittage
****
The thing is, I knew he was dating someone else, and I didn't really care. He is a serial monogamist (this happened only about a year ago, and he has had two serious girlfriends in that time.), and I was, as I am known to do, about to leave the country for an extended period of time, so we both knew it wasn't going anywhere. Why did he feel the need to avoid me? It only made things worse.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)