Tag Archives: crazy

Rosh Hashana Stories, Featuring “The Courtesy Stitch”

17 May

My family circus! Come one, come all…but you’ve been warned!

 

Rosh Hashana is the Jewish New Year, and a magical time when family and extended family come together to enjoy all things Holy, praising the Lord for a New Year and hoping he’ll be generous with us when we repent next week during Yom Kippur.

Most of the things I just wrote are true, unless you are sitting at my family’s table for the Holidays. Anyone who knows us, knows we’re about as liberal and unorthodox as it gets. Despite our quirks, my family is a ton of fun and a guaranteed “crazy story” whenever we get together. We celebrate three nights of Rosh Hashana, but this year I only participated in two.

 

Night 1: Lord of the Sanitation

I run out of work to head to the airport to pick up my cousin from NY, only to find her plane is running an hour and a half late. Great. We’ll be the last one at…sedar? No, that’s passover. Shabbat dinner? No, that’s Friday. Crap…”What the hell is this dinner ceremony called,” I scream to my Mom over the phone.

“Honey, I don’t know. How about just…dinner?”

Finally my cousin arrives, and we head to her house where there’s a 25 person dinner currently in progress.

My brother has saved us some seats at the end of the table, where there is some young guy I’ve never seen sitting near some family friends. A lot of people haven’t seen me in a while, and I’ve lost a bunch of weight in the past few months so it’s a lot of..”what have you been doing?” and “where’s the rest of you?” and me smiling and saying, “no-no-no…I’m still here!” Which is code for, “oh, stop it! but really…go on!”

The young guy is watching my cousin and I, and I’m trying to pretend like he’s not some weird stranger who has shown up for the Holiday dinner unexpected. Clearly, he belongs here and to someone here…so where are they? Someone claim this guy so we can get the weird introductions out-of-the-way.

But no one does.

He looks exactly like a guy I went out with a little under a year ago. Laughs the same, looks the same, talks the same. It’s creeping me out! BUT, I refuse to make eye contact and continue with my conversation with my brother and cousin.

Here’s what you should understand about my cousin. She’s a year younger than me, and incredibly tiny. She went to a borderline ivy league school, and has an incredibly snobbish attitude about anything BUT schools in that similar realm.

I love her, don’t get me wrong, BUT people see her and wonder… “why is she still single!” People read my posts, know my standards and go… “oh, well…we get it with her!”

Regardless, I’m walking around the table doing my obligatory “Hello! So good to see you!” routine to the 25 people sitting around my Aunt and Uncle’s dining room, and stop to say hello to one of our extended family members, Rita. She turns to me and says, “Did you get a load of David?”

Me: “What?”

Rita: “Yeah yeah yeah…David. John’s kid. He’s very intelligent! Harvard graduate, builds some kind of something for the African children. Go talk to him! You two would be a great couple!”

Me: “Thanks Rita, but no thank you. I’m quite content being–”

Rita: “GO. Just talk to him, what’s the harm?”

::sigh::

I return to the table, and it appears that David has made a move from the other side of the table closer to my cousin, brother and I. I’m sure he’s just trying to be friendly, but now that Rita put this ridiculous notion in my head, I’m sitting there trying to do my best to act natural yet flirty, calm yet fun…a sitting contradiction.

While we’re talking, and he’s laughing at my jokes…or just my commentary, I introduce myself. I ask him what he does and he looks surprised, like… “No one has told you? Why, I’m the LORD of Sanitation!”

It turns out, this guy is amazing, modest and brilliant. He’s figured out how to help an entire Country function by utilizing their poop and turning it in to energy.

Me: “Oh, wow. Well, at least you’re doing something purposeful! That’s amazing! You’re helping so many, just by utilizing something they have an abundance of (poop). Don’t ask us what we do…my cousin and I don’t save orphans from burning buildings or anything like that.”

He laughs.

At that point, he asks my cousin what she does and she answers. I walk away.

Later on, his 92-year-old grandmother whom I absolutely love comes over and sits in between us.  He’s watching me interact with her, laughing and smiling as we chat.

Me: ” SO tell me! What do you do these days?”

Pearl: “Oh me? Well, I go to the Senior center everyday which is nice.”

Me: “What do you do there? Break guy’s hearts? Play canasta?”

Pearl: “Oh don’t be silly. I just like to go, we all chat, and then I get driven home!”

Me: “Sounds like a great deal!”

Time goes by, and after explaining to him what I do for a living (as glamorous as it is, try not to be too impressed I tell him!) and him pretending to be very impressed…we hug, say nice to meet you and he leaves.

Once again Rita circles back… “So?? A match??”

::sigh::

Don’t go to dinner single, is the moral of this story.  Because trying to date someone in my own area isn’t hard enough, I should date a guy who lives primarily in  Kenya, and is full of shit? LITERALLY!?

 

Rosh Hashana, Part 2

This is where things get scary, folks. So again, my cousin is this brilliant individual right? The magical thing about my cousin is she’s incredibly book smart, but not so amazingly savvy everywhere else.

For instance, just a year ago she says to me, “Oh my GOD…did you know that when they neuter dogs they cut their balls off?”

Brilliance at work.

Both of my cousins actually have a strong affinity for being wildly inappropriate at the most inconvenient times. The second night was hosted by our family friend who lives upstairs from my mom. She put together a beautiful spread, and we went upstairs to see what the night would have in store.

Everyone knows I’m taking real stories and posting them, and it’s making everyone incredibly nervous. Each time laughter comes from some silly comment or action, they turn to me and say, “we better not see this up there tomorrow!”

As always, I say…no promises.

Things are rolling smoothly. Everyone is drinking, eating, and trying to be particularly careful about what they say…until…

My cousin: ” So guess what I learned the other day?”

All of us stare blankly, mouths full of noodle kugel and Challah.

My cousin: “I learned, that a lot of doctors after a woman gives birth, help the men out by doing what’s called a courtesy stitch.”

Me: “What? What is a courtesy stitch!?”

My cousin: “Well, after you give birth, you tear from your V to your A. OR, they cut you. SO…when they stitch you up, they throw an extra stitch in there for the men…”

Out of NOWHERE, my Uncle chimes in:

Uncle: “YEAH, you know. For the Vagina. To tighten the Vagina up after blowing it out.”

Then he makes a disturbing vacuum sealed tight sound, and we all throw up in our mouths just a little bit.

 

I often feel like my family is like a circus. There’s a ringleader, then an instigator with a lion-like demeanor who comes out roaring with madness, then we all have to jump through hoops of fire at the end of it to bring things back to whatever normalcy we started with.

 

Either way, I love these people. They’re insane, tactless, silly and oftentimes crude…but damned if they’re not also amazing, loving and oh, that’s right…my family Happy New Year to all!

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She’s Just Not That Into You Either…Seriously

16 May

Seriously. We’re not.

 

So a couple of years ago, a jackass “writer” by the name of Greg Behrendt came out with a piece of drivel entitled, “ He’s Just Not That Into You,” which I’m sure 99% of you have heard of and/or read. Why so bitter at Greg? Because I felt as though it was the “idiot girl’s guide to relationships,” and wondered WHAT woman would really need this mega dose of common sense. Then I snapped back to reality, noticing that most women DO in fact need this book. Some of my closest friends suffer from the same afflictions that the women portrayed do, unable to let things go, stalking, making excuses for their boyfriends/hookups/husbands. My personal favorite characteristic is holding on to a relationship that should be treated with the same mentality as a dead limb…cut it off, before the yuck spreads any further.

While the book was awful, I DID see the movie and will confess that I did enjoy it and found I could relate to it a twinge more than the book (for me this is rarely ever the case). It’s a dose of reality for those who would rather deny, deny, deny then own up to what’s really going on. For me, I identify with (I’m sure many of you?) one line in particular, where Justin Long’s character says, “Everyone wants to be the exception to the rule.”

It’s true.

That’s why we date, why we sit near the phone months and years after a relationship (figuratively, not literally) waiting to have that person who pulverized your heart like hamburger meat come back and stand bravely in your face, proclaiming, “Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life and without you, I’m not whole.”

Doesn’t everyone want that validation? That knowledge that without you these past few weeks, months, years, their lives have been full of suck? The point is, that it’s clearly a very rare situation. Today I want to examine the reverse side of “He’s Just Not That Into You,” as men rarely get labeled as crazy as women or even in the near realm. It’s not a talked about subject and it should be. Just because you come after me and I turn you down does not make me a bitch. Similarly, how you would believe you’re not a jerk, just for the same reason. I’m going to give some of my own experiences and examine what I’ve come in contact with over the years. Can any of you think of other examples, or do any of these ring true for you??

“The Incessant”

First, let’s talk about the technology obsession and what it means when I do not call you back for longer than a week. If you called me on Monday, sent me two texts on Tuesday and an e-mail Wednesday, my skin is most likely crawling with the thought of seeing anything with your name on it come through any facet of communication devices.

Men aren’t like that, you say? False.

Again, I like to be equal opportunity when I “bash,” and can tell you that men are just as bad as women, sometimes worse.

EXAMPLE! (We’ll call him Paul)

BACKGROUND: Paul is a nice guy, who for all intents and purposes seems to be super normal, attractive and well put together. He tells you his story right away. After high school he went to college for half a year, worked for a major cell phone company for four years and was terminated because he’s a “victim of the economy.” Lost his job, lost his apartment and moved in with his family to get on his feet. Two weeks later, he’s in a major accident and his car is totaled. Paul has gone on multiple interviews and hasn’t been able to find a job, hanging out mostly with his seven-year old niece and mom. He’s a yes man and a pleaser, which is easy to tell from the get go, replying to everything I say with a “me too!” or a “that’s so great to hear, I’ve been looking for that for so long!” His idea of a big word was pedantic, and says he’s often told he’s a champion when it comes to vocab. Talking continued a few more times, as to not appear rude until finally, it was time to make it clear that we were ultimately not a match. He would IM 25 times a day, no exaggeration. When I’d respond, I’d be short or wouldn’t respond at all, causing him to text me asking, “Are you online right now? Because it says you are.” From there he’d call, explaining he’s bored, just wanted to say hi, etc. Then finally after explaining that I’m not in a good place, not ready for anything and also not particularly interested, I feel as though he’d got the message.

After dodging him for two weeks, he IM’s me, asking how I am, if things have slowed down and if I’ll go out with him now. I say no, I’m sorry, and he should move on…following the IM was an email, asking me to clarify my decision and a text and phone call telling me he sent me an email. Now, as some of you may know, I’m super open when it comes to dating people and will often times give those a chance that others wouldn’t. I say that, to explain that while he was in a bad place in his life, I may still have stopped to see what he was all about, had he not of blown up my media mediums, even after I expressed NO interest. If you have to call me to tell me you texted me, text me to tell me you emailed me and email me to get me to respond to your IM’s or bizarre line of questioning…SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU. Desperation is an ugly stink…and he was bathing in it.

“The Misleader”

This type of delightful gentleman actually gets bundled into another kind of guy whom I’m having trouble naming. I suppose it’s misleading in two ways: one, they portray themselves to be something different in their pictures or actions. Second, they themselves are mislead to believe that they are more fantastic than they really are, which is typically spoon fed early on. These types are both equally annoying, and oftentimes feel justified seeking perfection (which newsflash, does NOT exist) as they themselves feel that they’ve already achieved it. We have to tackle these two different examples of misconception independently.

Type A: I look and act like this, I swear!

Something that tends to happen frequently is when people decide to be someone else to please someone else. Or, they just don’t photograph particularly well, so there are several types of pictures of them to which you’re unsure what they truly look like. OR…OR! You’re fully aware of what you look like, but find pictures that subtly cover what you’re insecure about. EXAMPLE: (We’ll call him Joe). Joe seems like a good guy as well, interested in health and fitness to the extent he recently switched careers to “health promotion,” from what I have no idea as he’s not willing to disclose. He sends me an email, that I’m beautiful and interesting and he would be “honored” (I am not putting words in here, just literally regurgitating it) to chat with me. Honored? Alright…trying too hard…but what the hell, I’ll see what he looks like and what he’s into. There are two pictures of Joe, that are actually the same picture up twice, showcasing Joe sitting at a bar with a hat and sunglasses on drinking a beer. He starts talking to me about how he switched into his new field because “the world is old and fat.”

Hmm…so you must be pretty fit? Pretty active? Health nut? But how am I to be sure? S

o I ask for another picture, one that does not involve the hat or sunglasses and he obliges, telling me that his hair is really short and that he’s not bald. “Okay,” I reply and wait for the message. I’ve got mail…and boy am I shocked to find he is in fact bald in the front and a little heavy. NOW I HAVE NO QUALMS with him being heavy, as I mentioned above (and anyone who knows my dating track record can attest to) I never decide who to date based on looks, as long as there ends up being some sort of physical attraction. Most of the time, I prefer a very tall guy and I could never date a guy who is supermodel thin (it’s just not for me). BUT, when you profess to be a trainer and you profess to be health obsessed and say things like “the world is old and fat,” you better be in perfect shape.

Fail.

Then he proceeds to say, “I bet you don’t want to talk to me anymore…” to which I answer, “Why is that?” although what I’m thinking is, no, I don’t like people who sort of…lie from the get go, no…and he replies, “I’m no Brad Pitt.” Lack of confidence is so sexy, topped off by your general demeanor and outlook on life as well as your…photos that were a little off…we’re done before it begins. If you are negative, lie or create a little “fib,” or lack confidence, OR do not practice what you preach…what happened to “PAUL” above can happen to you. Which it did…but unfortunately, Joe also violated another no-no…do NOT write things when you do not know someone like… “Hey sexy.” It’s revolting, it’s a turn off and it’s yikes worthy. It’s also a sure-fire way for us to not respond, leaving you scratching your bald head wondering why we don’t reply…because, my dear offender…SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.

Type B: I’m awesome, because I say so!

There’s probably been at least one occasion in our dating lives that people have stopped you and been like…what are you thinking? Why date a lagoon create? Why date a heinous bitch? So on, so forth. But for some of us, we give people chances because we believe that they’re unique and special and all that barf worthy stuff. Have you ever encountered someone who you may have known years ago, who liked you, things happen and then suddenly, YOU’RE obsessed? And I don’t mean “you,” but I mean they begin to believe that you’re obsessed with them. Part of you at the time is like, wow, they liked me so long ago and they’re interested and maybe I missed out. So you go out on a limb, because just as you want to be the exception, you figure everyone else does too. Things happen, you think…”Great! I’ve made a good decision to explore past feelings in a mature, adult setting.”

False. FALSE, FALSE, FALSE.

First of all, on a tangent, I’m not sure any mature people even exist and secondly…you can never be too careful. You just can’t. Thinking is a highly dangerous exercise, and acting on your thoughts can be lethal. There was a friend of mine who knew of someone from middle school who was interested in her, and while they hadn’t spoken in many years, he found her and contacted her through some form of social media. “Wow, you are still so beautiful. How are you?!” She apparently had noticed time had been kind to him and he blossomed into a pretty good-looking dude. “You don’t look so bad yourself!” They chatted, he begged her to come visit him and voila! Guess what happened? I trust my readers to be smart, so eh…you know what that means. After the “boom boom pow,”  it was a cute and cuddly morning and lots of appreciation for her coming to see him and being with him, etc. When she returned she tried chatting with him as normal, and (shockingly enough!) he became squeamish, stating that he wasn’t really ready for a relationship.

From what I understand, that’s not what he was saying prior to their hookup, but he’s becoming a singer and couldn’t risk the chances of “blossoming further” and not being able to spread his seed to many more…lucky girls. Her reaction was more of a “get over yourself” attitude, as she was apparently just trying to keep it friendly. What I don’t get is, where someone gets off turning it around. She wasn’t sitting there begging him for a ring, or even a title as boyfriend girlfriend, just wanted to keep it friendly and keep it moving. She says that it was misconstrued, and being the hilarious woman she is, saved and shared the conversations with me. In the beginning, highly interested and then after the “incident,” fell off back into lagoon creature land thinking he’ll make it big as a Hollywood singer and will no longer need her. I suggested, that perhaps it’s because he wanted her so bad in middle school, then got her, then felt it right to be like…”PSYCHE! Gotcha bitch!” Who knows…but frankly, this kid isn’t going to find an Angelina Jolie or Megan Fox…not that he should’ve settled with her ( if he wasn’t happy!) but as crazy as men deem women to be, isn’t it just as crazy to ASSUME that she wanted anything more?

It wasn’t like she was acting like the above men, just trying to be friendly. Where’s the line of crazy drawn? What’s the crazy to friendly ratio and what’s “okay” to contact after a situation and what’s not? AND, who makes these rules?!?!? I’m sure you guys are kind of like, well, that was a slutty thing for her to do. However, did she do anything different then a man would have? She put herself out there thinking that she may have missed a big connection and went for it. I’m proud of her for doing so. If we don’t take risks how do we know? Commendable move, friend!

If we’re trying to be friendly with you and you misconstrue it, finding yourself there going, “WOAH! She wasn’t into me a few years ago, but she SO IS now,” and yet we’re not arguing when you say you don’t want a relationship, but are actually repulsed and irritated on the other end…SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU. Deflate your egos and stop “worrying,” about new obsessive “fans,” who are sincerely trying to keep the friends lane wide open. It’s lame. Seriously. What’s better is she ran into him while out in LA on a trip, they met up, and he made out with a friend of hers right in front of her. Did she freak out? No. Did she drink too much and disclose intimate details about him to his friends…yeah maybe…so an element of crazy still lurks there, but that’s another story for another time.

“Sexual Seduction”

This one in particular is both my favorite, and grosses me out. I’ve been really good, because I’ve been sitting on a few really good stories for a long while now, afraid that the same men who threaten me when they see I’m going to post this to my blog, would actually check up on it at the exact moment I upload “our” stories. Sadly, for this one in particular, I do not care. He’s sufficiently freaked me out for YEARS now and I’m pretty sure it’s time to release our lovely banter out into cyber space. We’ll call him…Jonah. Things that are not sexy…For starters, how about when after many years of not speaking, you feel some sort of delight in contact someone to talk dirty. We all know by now how I feel about “badgering” and this is no exception. He’s actually the original badger, believe it or not. Jonah and I go way back…to middle school, where his brother and I were in the same grade and he was a few years older. Luckily for my friends and I, Jonah taught us all we’d need to know about “pleasing” men by describing play by plays in great detail. At the time, we were young and dumb and soaked it all in, keeping his brother our good friend and having to see him every time we went over to hang out.

After he graduated, we didn’t keep in touch. It wasn’t until years later that Facebook played a huge role in reconnecting us. I was still in Tallahassee at the time, and his name popped up on Facebook chat as I was sitting next to my boyfriend at the time. My boyfriend said, “Who’s that?” I said, “Oh, just some guy from high school.” How do you explain any further when he’s really not important? In any case, he wound up getting very sexually explicit with me, so I removed him from my friends and blocked him from my AIM.

Recently, he resurfaced and I thought…it’s been years, what’s the worst that could happen? I should really ban that phrase from my vocabulary, along with other phrases like “it is what it is,” and “prrrrr-etty good.” Jonah and I reconnect and he instantly pops up on my Facebook chat: “Wow, you turned out to be one sexy Jew!” To which I respond, “Oh, hello there…so nice to hear from you. How are you?” We carry on a normal conversation for a while, but he proceeds to ask me some highly offensive, sexual questions. When I ask how his brother is, he scoots right over it, more interested in what landscaping techniques are, etc. Gross stuff, especially when you’ve not spoke in so long.

Somehow, he reversed blocked me on AIM so that I could not block him back. His sexual forwardness continued to grow, and it was not and is not ok. Particularly when you’re just starting to talk to someone again who already has this whacked view of you. So as I said, he reversed blocked, and so when I’d have statuses up like… “Getting ready for a date!” He’d reply like… “Ooh where am I meeting you,” or “wear something that accentuates your…” etc. I never responded and this is actually still continuing on a small level, despite the fact he literally said, “If this is making you uncomfortable or if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, just tell me.”

SO I did…and where do you think that’s gotten me? If you’re being explicit, you should maybe take a hint when the person says she’s not only not interested but is not responsive to your unique advances. If you’re a freaky person and she’s not, if you’re explicit and inappropriate causing her to feel like screaming every time you contact her and you’re wondering why you get no response? It’s as simple as this, SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU!

There are all different kinds of people, and everyone has their individual quirks. I suppose when it’s in regards to a typically gender specific topic it just gets me going. There’s no real difference between women and men. They both want what they want: to find the best partner, to be successful, to be loved on whatever level they’re capable of giving and receiving. Men don’t believe me when I tell them I’m relatively drama free, that I abhor conflict and that I’m pretty laid back. Perhaps that’s just my perception, and not reality, as it’s easier for me to be subjective rather than objective but I know I’m not always “fault free” either. No one is innocent, because relationships (friendships included) are (at least) two player games. But the next time you’re wondering why we don’t call, or why we don’t respond to what you say, etc…re-think what your actions may have been to get to that point, and realize…we’re just not that into you.

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Dan, Dan, The Wacko Man!

16 May

Ever Feel Surrounded By A Bunch of Clowns?

 

 

Sometimes it  feels as though I am participating in the “Bad Decision Olympics,” where I am the reigning Gold Medalist. I’d like to share another moment in dating hell, with my most recent fail…Dan. (* Just a reminder, all names have been changed).

A while ago, I met Dan. We started talking on the phone and texting nearly every day and although I wasn’t really prepared for anything serious, it was obvious that he wasn’t going anywhere without a fight…which I kind of liked, as it’s been a while since anyone of substance has come along. He is educated, driven, seemed pretty compassionate and genuine, etc. It probably didn’t hurt his case that he has a beautiful upper body and pearly white teeth…just sayin’. After talking to him for a few days, the comments started getting a bit weird…er.

I understand that people are marrying early and we are feeling a bit of societal pressure at 26, (like we’re lepers for not settling down by this point) but I’m never one to just meet someone and say any of the following things:

1. “So, are you going to be my baby?”

2. “I just need you in my life, and I know that…without a doubt.”

3.“I just think you’re a good influence in my life, and you’d be positive to have around.”

Those all seem like very sweet, endearing things for people who’ve been dating a little more than not at all. How can you possibly know that those things will be true without a bit more investigation? Maybe I’ve been hiding a secret identity, and I’ll rip off a body suit to reveal I’m a 350lb lagoon creature.

MAYBE I’m serial killer who loves to kill afflicted men. OR…MAYBE…I’m a code five clinger, who loves to snort coke and likes to dress my cats in funny outfits and film them. My point is, that it’s off putting to hear things like that right off the bat.

Dan and I were going on a date to go see The A-Team. I understand that the movies are kind of a stupid date to choose to go on when you’re still getting to know one another. But I chose the movies for that reason. I felt pressured to see him, because he was SO pushy. After a day at work from 8-5 where people constantly talk your ears off, why would you want to go and have someone talk your ears off for another few hours?

Look, I’m sure if I was “really” interested, it wouldn’t matter. I’d welcome the chatter, getting to know each other and enjoying a flirtatious flutter of the eyes back and forth. Dan wanted to go bowling, go for dinner, go somewhere. “Movies are fine,” I tell him. “I’m bad at bowling, I’ve just had dinner and again..I’m a horrible bowler.” On the way there, I start getting this bad feeling. What’s funny is my friends will tell you that I’m rarely off base with these instincts. They usually manifest themselves through soreness deep in my gut, saying, “hey….hey dumbass…this? This right here…? This is going to end HORRIBLY.”

Clearly, I don’t listen, pulling into the theatre fifteen minutes before it starts. I can see Dan from the car, although he can’t see me. He’s pacing a bit and seems frustrated, but when he sees me a big smile flashes across his face. We hug and he tells me he’s bought the tickets. “He’s not so bad,” I think to myself as we walk towards the theatre.

As we enter, he turns back and says “Goodnight Sophie.” Ehm…? Wherever Sophie is, she’s clearly not responding. “GOODNIGHT SOPHIE,” he says louder and sort of pauses for effect. I look over to see this girl hanging out on the pillar. She seems less than enthralled that he’s speaking to her and has a mild look of discontent and panic. He starts to explain, “Oh! She was waiting on her boyfriend and I was waiting on you, so we kept each other company since it’s a bit sketchy out here.”

We go inside…time to pick the seats… I like to sit near the bar so I can put my feet up and there are no big heads obstructing my view. He doesn’t argue and just asks that we sit in the middle, where these two girls have their feet on the seats. “Don’t worry, they won’t have them there for long,” he replies. I sit down immediately already embarrassed and praying there will be no confrontation…the movie hasn’t even started. “Hey ladies,” he starts. “Now don’t go kicking our chairs during this movie, ya hear me?” The ladies are giggling. They think he’s joking. “Oh don’t worry,” one replies. “I think I broke my toe before we came in here.” “Oh really?” he says, and starts rummaging around in his wallet. He hands them his medical sales card and they coo.  Right when I think we’re in the safe zone, I hear him start telling them… “We’re on a date. So please…don’t kick the chair.”

He sits down and says to me…

Dan: “Did you knock a couple back before you came?”

Me: “I’m sorry…what?” I’m staring at him blankly, like…did you really just ask that?

Dan: “Did you have a couple drinks? I mean hell, that’s what I would do…” (He’s unable to drink).

Me: “No, I didn’t…why, does it seem like I have?”

From there things got really ridiculous and if I sat here and did a full detailed recount, you’d be here for ten pages, guaranteed. I’ll highlight.

Dan: “Don’t take anything I say or do seriously tonight, ok?” Famous last words.

You know that point in the bad situation when you’re like… “uh oh.” While externally I said, “Ehm…okay…?” Internally I was saying, “HOLY SHIT, WAY TO STEP IN A PILE OF  HOT MOLTON CRAZY. GREAT JOB!”

It appears the fact of the matter is, I never learn. Ever. Body language is important on a date. If my legs are crossed away from you, if my arms are folded, my hands are on my purse and I’m intently watching the movie, I have just given you the universal signs of “don’t touch me.” Had I of left my hand out for you to grab, placed my purse in the seat next to you, crossed my legs towards you and leaned over a bit…that means “GO.” The other way means “NO.”

Dan had evidently never heard of that general rule of thumb. I’m sure that the A-Team would’ve been a great movie, but I really didn’t get to spend a lot of time watching it, as I was more concerned that every time Bradley Cooper and Jessica Biel kissed, I’d be attacked. I started dreading the love scenes. Every tacky move that could’ve been made was done. He picked up his cell phone, texted, talked to strangers, was loud and wanted to have a conversation throughout the movie.

BUT most offensive of all was THE BEST MOVE in the history of tacky moves:

“The Quest for Boobtown”

The 2 part quest:

1. He removes his watch methodically, then drops it down my shirt before attempting to FISH IT OUT.

2. He keeps trying to hold my hand but stretches his arm across me so I have to continuously keep moving his hand so he doesn’t rest it on my chest.

At one point he actually tried to lay his head on my chest….when I kept moving his hands and head, he finally turns to me and says, “ why are you so uptight?!”

“I’m not uptight,” I reply calmly, a little shaken up from the shock of his actions. I really can’t remember a time I’ve been more disrespected publicly. Although you say to yourself, “If something like that ever happened to me, I’d punch him in the face,” it changes when it happens to you and you’re in the moment. I thought that had answered the question sufficiently, but then right at a climactic point in the movie he turns to me and raises his voice… “OH LET ME GUESS…YOU’VE BEEN HURT BEFORE, RIGHT? AND NOOOOOOOOOW…I’M PAYING THE PRICE?”

I had nothing to say, mainly because how do you answer that…mid movie, with now the entire theatre no longer paying attention to the movie they’ve paid for, but rather your conversation with a crazy person. At that moment, you can feel the sympathy radiating, hear the women going “poor girl,” and I can feel my jaw clenching, fists tightening and tears trying to fight their way forward. “I’LL TAKE THAT AS A GIANT YES,” he screams. I had enough, but refused to get angry as we’re still in public, and I’m still a lady… of some sort.

Me: “Take it however you want to. Just leave it alone, and leave me alone.”

Dan: “SO…YES,” raising his voice over the climactic moments of A-Team.

Me: “Think whatever you want.”

After that, it was as if he had never snapped. He returned to trying to caress my hand, tell me how into me he was, etc.

Dan: “I’m going to go get a soda, want anything?”

Me: “No.”

He leaves and I text my mom and a friend of mine. I text: “awful. Crazy, crazy, crazy. Just went for a diet coke, hope he doesn’t come back.” But he did. With a large diet coke and large popcorn, both of which he finished then proceeded “release” the popcorn and soda back…out both ends. It felt like a cosmic joke…this kid couldn’t be serious? But he was.

Finally the movie ends and he walks me to my car, which I cannot get into fast enough. Before I even get home he’s called twice and left three texts.  We never spoke after that, and in truth, it  seriously rocked me so much that it took me a minute to get to a point where I could write it down.

But wait, there’s more…

About two months after the ordeal,  I get a friend request from a girl name Sandy. For some reason, I accept her friendship thinking I must know her from somewhere.  Something about her looks weirdly familiar, but I’m not sure I’m not crazy. I let it go and figure if nothing else, she’ll just be one of the other Facebook friends that I have that I don’t “know.” A week ago, I signed on to Facebook and my chat popped up immediately…it was Sandy.

Sandy: “Hey,” she says.

Me: “Hey, do I know you?”

Sandy: “Can I ask you something, and can we keep it just between you and I?”

Me: “Of course,” I reply, thinking…I don’t really know you, so what does it matter? And, you didn’t really answer my question, which would actually be telling of how the rest of the conversation would go.

Sandy: “How do you know Dan Smith? From CL?”

Me: “What’s CL?”

Sandy: “Craigslist,” she replied and my face automatically went into a highly grossed up, perplexed contortion.

Me: “Um no, not from…Craigslist,” I reply trying to suppress the disgust seeping up from my tummy and into my throat.

Sandy: “GREAT,” she says. “That tells me that he’s really out there trying to look for something/someone else.”

And so we spoke about Dan for about 30 minutes. She asked what happened and what my experience was. I tell her bits and pieces, but am still withholding because I’m not sure how she knew to find me on Facebook. Apparently, she met him off of “CL,” and then proceeded to have a plethora of strange experiences with him. He stood her up, she said she toyed with his emotions but eventually felt bad and met up with him. They went back to “his” house and he tried to get her to do stuff but she said she “doesn’t do THAT because it’s trashy.”

She said that it was time to consider not speaking to him, to which I reply he’s been blocked on my end for a while and that in my opinion, he’s not a hundred percent there and she should stop communication. While we’re talking, something occurred to me…the same thing I mentioned above…how on EARTH did she figure out who I was and how did she know how to get a hold of me? While she continues to talk to me, I decide to go to his Facebook page and see if they’re friends. Something just started to feel weird…I know, imagine that.

Turns out they’re not even Facebook friends. Which leads me to believe he clearly told her to contact me and ask why I’d not responded. ANOTHER thing occurs me…she looks EXACTLY like the girl that was at the movies that night, standing on the pillar (SOPHIE…remember?). Turns out, the crazy just keeps getting crazier. By the time I went to ask her how she knew to find me and confront her to see whether or not that was her that night…she disappeared off Facebook entirely.

SCARY, CRAZY and yet…typical.

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