I finally mustered the guts to tell a guy I could no longer see him. My “ignoring you until you get the point” strategy worked for some time, but a new situation arose that I felt necessitated a bit more tact. The guy who took me to Fogo De Chao the other week (see “Fools In The Rain”) required my change in strategy. We actually had a great first date (endless red meat and wine will do that), plus the salad bar at that restaurant was to die for. We then went to a bar and had a really great time. Boy pretty much fell in love with me though; he started talking about me as “his girl,” which raised immediate warning sirens, red flags, and emotional distress within. He was super nice, Jewish, and pretty cute. He was working with a serious receding hairline though, and I just don’t think I was up for that challenge.
“Money is more important than hair,” were the wise words my mom extolled to me after I told her his family was building a summer home in Martha’s Vineyard, but I just could not get on board. He came on much too strong, which I’m sure would be nice if I was ready for a relationship, but I’m not. So I began my initial pull-back by replying to his texts less frequently and with shorter answers. When that didn’t deter him, I knew I needed to be more forthcoming. After some serious discussion, it was decided I would pretend my ex was moving back to LA, and despite having a lot of fun, I could no longer see him. For some reason I was uncharacteristically nervous. I honestly did feel bad about rejecting this guy, and this probably boosted my reluctance to press the send button on my iPhone. I finally managed to do so, and the reaction I got was less unpleasant than I had anticipated. All he said was, “No worries, I hope it works out.” Phewww! I was in the clear, or so I thought.
About a week later he sends me a text saying, “Hey sweet lips, how are ya?” Creepy, right? After sharing this with my mom, she told me I should be hyper aware of my surroundings when going home at night. Thank goodness my building has a gate and he doesn’t know what apartment I live in. I’ve already been on the verge of getting a restraining order against one ex in the past, so I really don’t need that to play out again. But at least I can say I’ve been chic enough to have a stalker, even Babe Walker thinks so… I don’t understand his reasoning behind that text though. Was he purposefully trying to be a douche because I bruised his ego by calling it off? Was he shitfaced at 4:00 in the afternoon and lost all sense of human decency? Is he a complete psycho? These are some of the questions I have been dealing with for the last week; I think I need to stop over-analyzing and move on.
But creepily enough, as I was writing this, I got another text from him!! I obviously ignored his horrid sweet lips text, so why was he haunting me? This text was much less obnoxious, but please, just leave me alone. What more do I have to do to make it obvious that I don’t want to see you/sleep with you/go to Maestro’s with you/help you or your friends in any way, shape, or form? But I also need to avoid inciting the psycho that lurks deep within you. This is simply way too much for me to be dealing with on a Monday. I am now going to drink an extra large cup of green tea and do my breathing exercises.
On to happier thoughts…Besides this guy, my dating life has been nothing but pleasant. There are two other guys I met the same weekend who I have been seeing regularly. One lives in Marina Del Rey, and the other one lives in Silverlake (but I promise he is not a hipster and he has a million dollar view of downtown LA, so he gets a pass). Both guys are fun and have taken me to super fancy dinners the first time we hung out. Not that I like admitting this, but sometimes I think I’m a fat person living inside a person with really skinny collarbones’ body. Super fancy restaurants with overpriced exotic food totally get me every time. If I can’t pronounce it/don’t 100% know what I will get when I order, I’ll probably like you a lot more for taking me there. It’s also imperative that they both paid for everything the first time we hung out. I’m all for updating and modernizing gender roles, but if a guy doesn’t offer to pay on the first date, then expect me to pretend not to know who you are the next time you text me. But, starting with the second date, I am all for offering to pay for drinks, etc. I do not aspire to suck your black AmEx card dry, and with all things I believe reciprocity is key. I will sometimes make a half-ass offer to pay for something and if you accept, I still might judge you.
Oh and my new #3 in the rotation is a super douchey/beautiful 40 year old I met a few weeks ago. D made me give him my number so I handed over my business card; lesson learned to never do that again when out at a bar. Getting a call at work in front of my boss from a dude is never a good idea. Good thing my boss is amazeballs. I’m fairly certain when I see him it will be entertaining to say the least.
Until next time…
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