February 09, 2009

We agreed to this?

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has found themselves amidst an uncomfortable situation and realized that the situation is quite obviously their own d*** fault. I have to wonder if humans are prone to some level if social masochism because not only do we get ourselves into these situations but we generally end up repeating them over, and over again. Perhaps, instead of being social pain-seekers, we simply have to have really horrible social experiences in order to enjoy ones that are... not horrible.

For those of you who don't know, I ended a long-term relationship about a month ago. I haven't really felt like getting back into the dating ring again but the circumstances were sort of thrust upon me recently. There are a bunch of good guys that own the building my office is in and who like to harass me on a regular basis. We don't usually talk "significant others" but I guess they noticed my "bf" hadn't been around for a while and talked me into a date with their friend who, for his privacy, I will call Bob.

Well, Bob stopped by the office a few times prior to setting a dinner date with me and won me over with his eight month-old great dane puppy, Miah. Let me just say, Miah is second only to my own dog in terms of cuteness and loveability. Anyway, Bob asks me out Friday night.

Friday morning I wake up at 4:30a.m. and vomit for a couple hours before wallowing in misery that day and the next on the love seat, watching all eight hours of A&E's version of "Pride and Prejudice." I clearly could not go on a date in that condition. I texted Bob and told him my sad story. Of course you can't blame a girl for the stomach flu so Bob was cool with the whole thing and we agreed to try again another time.

But thus began the texting of Bob... he texted me quite a bit over the next few days and that's when I started to get a bad feeling about going out with this guy. I mean, during the Super Bowl he felt the need to tell me that he is quote "a stonch Republican." Yes, that's how he spelled staunch. He then went on to compare the Steelers, clearly the villains of the Super Bowl, to Democrats. Imagine his reaction when I told him I was a liberal.

The next week, probably a development of the vomiting, I have tonsilitis. Since I was already sick the first time he asked me out, I felt like I'd better just get it over with, despite not really wanting to go at this point. I hate being rude and with how many times he had stopped in with his dog, I just didn't feel like I could gracefully bow out. Four hours later, after an odd dinner filled with all kinds of redneck idioms I could not begin to understand and sitting alone while he went outside to smoke, he dropped me off at my car and busted a move... sigh... so not smart.

Bob asked me out again the next night but I just had to say no. I told him that I really wasn't interested in dating quite yet, which is true. I left out the part though about having one of the most uncomfortable nights of my life.

In the end though, it's my own d*** fault, I knew Bob was a 28 year-old version of Rush Limbaugh before we went out. Anyway, thanks Bob, for scaring me away from beginning dating again for at least another couple months.

2 comments:

Kelly Visser said...

Oh poor Staci! That sounds like the worst date EVER! You should just hang out at our house more. We're so boring without you!

p.s. The word I have to spell to post this comment is "muthf". It could be because it's 5 a.m., but that is just funny to me.

Princess and A BYU Fan said...

I suggest telling him he's a loser. I attempted to explain this to mother one day and she concluded that I was being rude, however she failed to note how relieved you will be when you finally say the thing you meant to say in the moment you meant to say it. Sigh... then again... regret inevitibly follows. (name that movie)