On July 19 I was walking home, up some ungodly hill, from a soccer game. A boy chased me up this hill, out of breath, to chat me up and gives me his card. Flattering. And the texting tourettes begins:
July 29: 5:43pm Me: “Hello. How is Maple Ridge. This is Klassy the girl you chased up the hill after the ManCity game last week. Are you going to the game tomorrow? I am going early with a few friends. So if you are game we can meet up and you can buy me a beer”
July 30: 6:12pm Mr. Texting Tourettes: “The Ridge is fine. Pretty sure I was chasing my friend up the hill. Was really drunk. Can’t”
Aug 7: 11:32am: Mr.TT: “Do you think we are going to win today”
Aug 7: 4:12pm: Mr.TT: “Are you going to the game?”
Aug 7: 5:30pm: Klassy: “Unfortunately I am in Edmonton working this week trying to avoid the tornadoes. Have a great time at the game”
Aug 10: 12:02 am: Mr.TT: “Wat’s up?”
Aug 11: 6:34pm: Mr.TT: “Can I call you sometime?”
Aug 11: 7:53pm: “That could be acceptable”
Aug 11: 8:12pm: Mr.TT: “What do you do for a living?”
Aug 11: 8:14pm: Mr.TT: “Need any painting done?”
Aug 11: 8:23pm: Me: “Wow aren’t we full of questions”
Aug 11: 8:28pm: Mr.TT: “I could give you an estimate”
Aug 26: 6:38pm: Mr.TT: “Hi”
Sept 9: 11:40pm: Mr.TT: “Are you on facebook”
Sept 15:12:34am: Mr.TT: “I am scared to call yous”
Now I know why I don’t date! Are men really that touched? Argh! They are infuriating. The irony of it all is that they think WE are the crazy ones. In many ways, we have become the crazy ones because their stupidity makes us go insane. Does common sense not land on the Y chromosome?
I feel that once you are of a certain age you should be… I don’t know… mature! You should have a basic understanding of what is appropriate and inappropriate behavior. Example: Texting a girl you just met at 7pm and asking how her day went. Inappropriate behaviour is as demonstrated above: Texting her at midnight on a weeknight and asking her if she is on Facebook! I truly do not believe my expectations are THAT HIGH. Actually, I gave Mr.Texting Tourettes the benefit of the doubt in the beginning because of the whole lost in textation, which just begs another question: why not just call? Which as you read , he actually asked me if he could do! Who asks that? Have I been watching too many chick flicks that I think asking permission to call me is lame? This guy is in his mid-thirties – you’ve got to be kidding me. Is it not safe to say that by thirty you should know to call a girl? After I let him know calling me would be acceptable, he thinks continuing to text me questions about painting my house and giving me an estimate is OK. I later find his card in the bottom of the “why do I keep this shit pile” and low and behold, he is a painter which might explain the behavior. Toxic fumes. It was at this point of strangeness and still no phone call that I quit cordially returning texts. Yet texts continued to persist after an inappropriate hour. But my favourite text was the last: “I am too scared to call yous.” I repeat: You have got to be kidding!
Then there is the Irishman – who is not Irish, though he is convinced he is. If your grandparents, grandparents, grandparents came to the new world on a boat with scurvy during the first potato famine you are NOT IRISH, whatever your last name is. You are CANADIAN! I was able to overlook this because he was hot. And 6’4 – YUM! He asked me out for drinks last Friday. Drinks. I’m not sure when I stopped eating dinner but whatever. Again, he’s 6’4 and has the most beautiful hands I have ever seen! Now I am not sure if it is me, if he thought I was arrogant, but it was an aggressive evening at times. And not the “I want to rip your clothes off and do dirty things to you” kind of aggression. It was the George Costanza kind of aggression. Not only did Mr. Not So Irish (NSI) psychoanalyze me all evening, as though he could figure me out in one evening (yes NSI, I am one dimensional and have zero layers, thanks for the compliment) but he also challenged seemingly everything I said. “I donated blood last week.” “No you didn’t.” Who would lie about something like that? It was as though he was trying to prove something to me. At one point he told me I was lucky to get a weekend date because he never gives away his weekends for a first date. Was I supposed to take that as a compliment? What does one mean when they say crap like that? Looking back, I actually think he was trying to impress me. He kept telling me these stories about meeting people and them loving him and him getting a free mug from Starbucks. Yeah, I know. Random. At one point, he even called himself charming. No lie! The same guy comes out with the oh so original comment of women are crazy and men are simple, just feed them beer and compliment them. How is one supposed to compliment someone when that person is doing such a great job of blowing smoke up their own ass. I could no longer hold my tongue at the charming comment. It was my duty to let him know: “You’re arrogant, not charming and the reason you got the free mug is because you are hot.” How is that for a back handed compliment!
The irony of this is that earlier this year before my world fell apart I would have loved any attention at all from the opposite sex. Really it was quite sad. I would have probably just dealt with the stupidity out of desperation. Well, I have proven this point. I once followed around a chubby little longshoreman with rosy cheeks like a lost puppy, who only called when he needed something. I thought he must really like me because he texted me at midnight to come pick him up from work and take him home. Talk about touched, Klassy! I am thankful to report that this has changed. It might be because of me dropping 15 lbs (ah Tony Horton, I HATE YOU, but I LOVE YOU). Well, it’s 200 lbs if you count the 185 lbs of emotional baggage that is my former father. Normally, attention from Mr.Texting Tourettes or NSI would have me desperately trying to maintain communication, meet up for a date on his terms, all for the hope that eventually he would call me his girlfriend – GUSH ! We would get married – maybe even buy a house with a white picket fence, which of course Mr. Texting Tourrettes could paint. And I would have deluded myself into believing I liked him, just as long as it was someone, anyone who in my twisted definition of a relationship, liked me. I know, messed up. But you have to remember that I grew up in a household where the man was dominant. Through an environment contrived by the manipulative personality of my father, it was instilled in me that men only wanted tall, skinny pretty women who cooked and cleaned. It was clear from early on that my father’s worth of a woman was based on her looking good, cooking, cleaning and waiting on him. Personality mattered not, because her job was to simply listen to all the wonderful things he did in a day. I would like to say I am exaggerating but, sadly I am not. For years I was told “You would be so pretty if you lost 20 lbs.” Talk about tearing away at my self-esteem. I still remember in my early twenties I made some flippant comment around him about wanting to marry a Croatian footballer – to which he looked at me and said “That will never happen. They only marry gorgeous models.” I once asked him if he did not know where the dishwasher was (as I was tired of having to come home from school and clean his lunch dishes off of the kitchen table). His response? “That is why I had girls.” I could go on and on, which is not therapeutic to my new goal of letting the anger go. But as you can tell, I had/have some issues to work through. However, I am happy to report that I have grown some element of self-esteem and no longer think “Why would they like me?” “What can I bring to the table” and now think “Do I actually even like you?”
Now despite all this higher learning, I did end up sleeping with NSI and we have texted since (so pathetic this is considered a positive thing in the dating world). So despite the fact that he irritated me, I would be willing to go on another date with him. Maybe it is my ego wanting to crush his arrogance, or maybe I misinterpreted everything he was saying and I need to work through some of my baggage. After all this, maybe it is my fault that I get all agro about the idiotic things men say and do, because I am obviously willing to put up with it (to a certain extent).
Just in – 2 min before I was about to post – Mr.TT strikes again:
Mr.TT: “Sorry for the previous random texts”
Me: “Ya they were a little random”
Mr.TT: “Well my life is complicated. I was very flattered by your invite to buy you a beer”
Me: “Nice to know”
Mr.TT: Do you have an open mind? I have a feeling we know mutual people”
Me: “Ummm….I’ll bite – who?”
Mr.TT: “Well all I know when I searched Klassy on facebook five came up mutual friends”
Mr.TT: “with mutual friends”
Mr.TT: “Are you going to whitecaps game?”
Me: “Fun fact – but I am not on facebook. Still undecided on the game – trying to figure out”
Mr.TT: “Are you alien everyone is on facebook. Wish I could get off”
Me: “Did you just call me an alien?”
Mr.TT: “Please abduct me ………….now!!!”
Mr.TT: “I am with someone but it is sketchy”
Me: “Ya you should sort that out”
Mr.TT: “’Ill meet you for a coffee”
Me: “Actually I think you should work out your relationship”
Mr.TT: “Its never simple”
Mr.TT: “Beckham and Posh were in relationships when they met”
THIS IS WHY I DON’T DATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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