i would like everyone to know that i finally got my brownie sundae. ang and i went to dairy queen and got a brownie earthquake. those things are massive. but i got my fix and i’m a happy girl. well, that is until i crash.
so, there’s this boy and he called and left a message to see if i’d like to go grab a cup of coffee with him. later when i didn’t return his call he called back to see if i wanted to grab a beer. and i still didn’t call him back. is that bad?
but first let me tell you about this boy and the context of our relationship (or lack thereof). to protect the parties involved let’s call him stewart. we met at a conference. oh, fuck it. he’ll never read this anyways. plus, if he did, he might finally get it. first and foremost we met once. i don’t think i even remember what he looks like. we met at a screenwriting panel one early saturday morning.
everyone else was dressed in classic morning-after clothes. he was wearing a suit and carried a leather briefcase. 8:00am on a saturday morning. geezus. he came in late and sat down in the seat next to me and proceeded to ask me questions as the host was speaking. i wasn’t annoyed yet. don’t get me wrong. i bet some girls would go gah-gah over someone so professional 24/7.
after the panel, as i tried to find my escape, he attempted to make small talk. we connected with the screenwriting interest and i naively thought “hey, we can just be screenwriting buddies and exchange tips and stuff”. and then i did the unthinkable and regrettable…i gave my numbers, both of them, to him. he gave me his…get this…business card…his day job is home loan lending. not necessarily a bad thing. but we all know that just ain’t my thing. but that’s not at all the bad part. i was actually getting to like him…as a fellow writer, i mean.
so, at first it was just emails and then i think i started all of this when i asked him for refinancing advice for my mom. so, maybe this is all my mom’s fault. the next thing you know he is on the phone with my mother chatting about how i use to chew my hair to pacify oral fixations, failed attempts to be a ballerina because i was rotund or my tarzan stage where all i wanted to wear was a pair of under-roos… everywhere.
so, he took that as an invitation to travel through unchartered waters. the sea was calm but little did he know there was a storm brewing ahead. just kidding. overkill on the metaphors.
really though, he’s not all that bad. just so, so, so not my type. a status guy. he comments on physiques that shouldn’t be commented on…like mine for instance. he hints that he comes from money without trying to blatantly scream it at me. and i would so appreciate him more if he just came out and said, “I’m loaded”. or maybe not. but something to that degree. don’t hint around hoping that in turn i’ll ask you. cuz more likely than not…i won’t cuz i don’t care. also a total namedropper, predictable and boring as hell.
the thing that irks me the most is the slyness in all of it. the let’s-just-be-friends-but-later-tonight-i’m-going-to-try-to-seduce-you routine doesn’t score high points. you’ve lied already. and you can’t begin something on a lie. either genuinely want to attempt a friendship or let it be known that you want to hook up. it’s as simply as that. or maybe not. but it’s my story and i’m sticking to it.
amores perros – loves a bitch.