Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
There’s a buttload of reasons to cancel on a first date...the day before your first date.
A death in the family.
A car accident.
A last-minute invite to an awesome music show.
A freak accident with your electric razor and now you only have one eyebrow.
These are all acceptable reasons.
NOT an acceptable reason, in my opinion, was an EMAIL I received from Leon, this guy I met....cringe....online, who pretty much said he didn’t want to go out with me because he didn’t think I was super duper serious about him...without ever meeting him in person.
I know we met online, but this isn’t Russia. GAW
We had planned to meet at a nice tapas place for dinner.
I was actually really excited about it, since I hadn’t been on a date in months.
Leon, who sent me a message almost immediately after I signed up online, wasn’t even that cute, but I was in no position to be picky.
He messaged me about how he liked that I’m a writer and how did I get into writing? Etc etc.
Someone who was interested in my interests!!??!!
These types of guys exist??? (Ha kidding mom)
I immediately wrote him back.
He worked in outside retail clothing sales (uh yes please) and seemed nice and smart. He also took time to be grammatically correct, which I appreciated.
After two weeks and 15....yes FIFETEEN lengthy messages back and forth, where we talked about how we both got into our respective careers, what we were doing for an upcoming holiday, where we’re from and more, we made plans to meet up.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“Let’s go to that tapas place everybody’s been talking about!” I wrote.
“Perfect.” He said. “Pick you up at seven?”
I don’t get into cars with strangers, so I lied.
“You know, I’m actually headed that way after work so I’ll just meet you there if that’s cool,” I wrote.
“OK, that works, see you then!” he wrote.
I was beyond excited. I even cancelled plans with my mom - giddy as a schoolgirl - to tell her that I was going ON A DATE with someone.
“Well, I hope you’re not getting into a car with him!” she said.
“Remember that tapas place I’ve been talking about forever??? WE’RE GOING THERE!!!” I told her.
But, no. I was wrong. No tapas for me.
I got an email from Leon the night before our date.
Four long paragraphs.
“I know this is completely out of the blue but it has to be said,” he wrote.
I was driving at the time and pulled over to the side of the road to read the rest of his letter on my phone.
“The more I read our messages, the more I get the impression that you are looking for something pretty casual. And I get attached too easily for ‘casual.’”
WTF?? WAS THIS BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO PICK ME UP???
“I think it is perhaps not the best idea for us to meet up for dinner. I think there is a pretty high chance you will walk away thinking it had just been a nice chat without caring about what’s next.”
So now I don’t care???
How can I care when I haven’t even met someone????
I CANCELLED PLANS WITH MY MOM, ASSHOLE!!!
As if that wasn’t enough of a message, Leon continued:
“I’m sure you’re a lovely date but I’m just trying to be more aware lately of what I really want in another person, rather than just taking what is available.”
So, I’m just what’s “available” at the moment?
My heart sank at the busy intersection.
...And that’s how I got dumped without ever going on a first date.
Too bad for Leon, us “casual” bimbos don’t take being stood up lying down.
“If you want an immediate wife try a mail order bride,” I wrote.
Seriously. Haha. I wrote that.
“That seems...a bit harsh,” he wrote back, minutes later.
“Harsh? You’re cancelling a date with me and you’re calling me harsh? OK. Good luck with your big search,” I wrote.
The next day, the DAY of our cancelled date, he wrote, “Would it be a stupid question to ask if there were any chance of starting over?”
I rolled my eyes - not only at his lame attempt to take back the cancellation - but because the correct way to say that is,
“Would it be a stupid question to ask if there WAS any chance of starting over?”
Definitely not marriage material.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Last week, though, I changed my mind.
It’s all thanks to Alan, this guy who dated my friend Julie. Because that expression is the perfect analogy for him!!
He should be on the cover of “I want my cake and eat it, too” magazine!!!! (Uhh...cancel my subscription.)
By cake, I mean women. Alan had all the women in the world and then he wanted
Alan was good-looking, a musician and a serial dater. Several women decided that spending even a little bit of time with him was better than none at all.
On his first date with Julie, he broke down his situation.
“I date a lot of people and I need everyone involved to be cool with that,” Alan said coolly, super nonchalant. “And everyone already knows about everyone else, so it’s not like I’m lying or hiding anything.”
Somehow Julie found Alan’s honesty endearing and she still went out with him. When he found the time, of course.
Now, I’m not hating on playing the field. But don’t rub your multiple conquests in your other girlfriends’ faces.
Like, maybe just say you’re busy, end of sentence, on Thursday instead of revealing that you have a super romantic date with someone else.
And, when you realize that a person you’re dating is starting to fall for you in an exclusive way, you need to address that.
Cut off the hangers-on, perhaps??
Dump everyone and start new?
Alan turned his bevy of women into a competition.
He had them all hooked --- uh, line and sinker--- including my poor friend Julie.
He would pick and choose them as his date for different things, and then tell everyone else about it.
POLYGAMIST HUGH HEFNER BLECH!!!!!
I listened in horror as Julie told me that only “Sarah” was allowed to go visit his 2-year-old kid, who lived in another state.
Only “Erica” was chosen to watch his dogs when he went out of town
“And everyone is just OK with this???” I asked. No, she said.
Julie said another woman came by his house crying about the same thing as Julie was over, in his bed.
It was so gross.
I’m surprised none of them shot each other.
Despite my “dump the bastard” motivational speech, Julie stayed with Alan.
Several of the other women had started dropping out of the race. It was down to three now, and Julie wanted to be his cake (that he would eat, too).
But she remained stressed out about where she “fit” into Alan’s life.
She certainly wasn’t his kid or pet person. The only thing they had in common was that they liked the same music and she was his go-to date to hear bands coming through town.
Congratulations, I said.
But every girl has her breaking point. After MONTHS of competing with all these other women, Alan finally was ridiculous enough so that Julie opened her eyes.
He was leaving town to go to his 15-year high school reunion. He was going to stay for a whole week to visit his parents and relax.
“Can I spend the night at your place and you can bring me to the airport tomorrow morning?” he asked Julie.
She was thrilled that he chose to be with HER his last night in town.
“Yes!” she said.
The next day, Julie drove Alan to the airport and told him she was going to miss him and call her, blah blah blah.
That’s when she saw Sarah, a.k.a. “I’m allowed to meet Alan’s kid," waiting outside the Delta Airlines entrance.
“What is SHE doing here?” Julie asked, heart dropped.
“Oh, Sarah’s coming with me to the reunion,” he said, taking his bag out of Julie’s trunk.
“WHAT??? HOW COME YOU DIDN’T INVITE ME??”
“Because you drink too much and I don’t want you to embarrass me at the reunion,” he said. “This is more of Sarah’s kind of thing.”
“WHY DIDN’T SHE JUST BRING YOU TO THE AIRPORT THEN???” Julie screamed as Sarah looked over.
“Because I wanted to spend time with youuuuu before I left town,” he said, trying to be cute.
That’s when Julie realized she was done. DONE.
She wasn’t someone to pick and choose where she could go, or to be his god damn cab driver while he whisked another woman away to meet his high school friends. It was humiliating.
CAKE!!!! CAKE!!!!! CAKE!!!!
“It’s over,” Julie said walking back to the driver’s side.
He smugly replied, “We’ll talk when I get back,” and joined Sarah on their way towards the security line.
Julie meant it, thankfully, and did not give in when a sobbing Alan called months later saying everyone had left him and he was all alone, and “please!!! Let’s be exclusive! I know that’s what you wanted!!!”
Julie said he sounded so sad, crying into the phone, all alone.
Haha. He was having CAKE withdrawals.
He should have been egged.
Friday, March 9, 2012
My twin sister, Joy, started a new job last month, and on the first day someone stole her lunch.
She called me on her way to Quiznos.
“STOLEN, like the TUPPERWARE is GONE!” she wailed.
I laughed too loud and everyone at work knew I was taking a personal call.
“No way!!!!” I said. “Hahahaha No WAY!”
I’ve heard of lunch thieves before, and I’m an avid reader of PassiveAggressiveNotes.com (lots of office lunchtime “MINE, NOT YOURS” notes on food), but in my seven years as a 9-5er, the only thing that’s ever gone missing was a Diet Coke can or two.
Really, a whole Tupperware container?? Where would someone even hide that?
“...And there are only 14 people in the office!” Joy said, concerned.
This was no huge office building. There was no absent janitor to blame.
“Are you sure you brought lunch to work today?” I asked.
“Yes!” Joy said. “The secretary and I had an entire conversation this morning about it!”
(Now we have a suspect.)
“Maybe someone thought it was theirs?” I suggested as Joy bitched about lunchtime rush hour traffic.
“No, they couldn’t have thought it was theirs,” Joy said. “It was tofu pasta.”
We went over the details.
7:30 p.m.: The night before her first day of work, Joy makes an elaborate tofu pasta dish.
8:45 p.m.: Tofu pasta is eaten and enjoyed (uh, somehow...haha); leftovers are placed in appropriate Tupperware container for lunch.
8:15 a.m.: Joy arrives at work on the first day and is greeted by the secretary. The secretary asks Joy what she brought for lunch, and is curious about her tofu dish. A discussion of vegetarianism ensues.
8:20 a.m. Joy walks into the office kitchen and places food in the fridge.
12:05 p.m. Joy opens the fridge and does not see her Tupperware on the shelf where she placed it. She looks in all the drawers and in the door of the refrigerator. She checks the freezer.
12:10 p.m. Joy walks back by the secretary on her way out to go buy her lunch.
“I’m not crazy, you saw me bring my lunch to work today, right?” Joy asks the secretary.
“Yes! Definitely! The tofu!” she said. (Hmmm...good memory, secretary. Good. Memory.)
“Well...it’s missing now,” Joy said.
“Yeah. I put it in the fridge and now it’s gone. So...I’m going to go buy lunch now,” Joy said.
“You know...this has happened here before,” the secretary said, concerned, almost a whisper.
5 p.m. Joy leaves work for the day and her Tupperware has not surfaced. Not placed back in the fridge. Not in the trashcan. She cut her losses.
But the next day, the tofu pasta resurfaced. Figuratively.
Joy was told there was an emergency, mandatory staff meeting at 9 a.m.
The scary boss stood in front of all 14 employees, arms folded.
“STEALING LUNCHES IS STILL STEALING!” he said.
Joy froze. She didn’t intend to bring this to EVERYONE’S attention. On her second day.
“WE DON'T TOLERATE STEALING IN THIS OFFICE OF ANY KIND,” the boss said. “If ANYONE is caught stealing lunches, they will be fired ON THE SPOT!” he said, making eye contact with everyone.
(Hmmm....maybe he did it.)
People nodded. No one said anything.
9:25 a.m. Text from Joy: “OMG I’m officially the dork of the office”
Indeed, Joy. Indeed.
Although, to be fair, I think the fact that you brought tofu pasta did that all on its own for you.
Where-ever it is...