Alright here's the story, in a nutshell - the reason I've been sitting in my cubicle scowling at the world today:
Last spring I met a guy. A HOT guy. He was hanging out at a friend's bar and we hit it off ... well I guess we did anyway, I was slightly um, drunk. He told me a few things about himself and as you can imagine, something in my gin-soaked mind scrambled the facts a bit (funny how that works). Well at work the next day I related what I remembered to my boss - this being that the guy is a stripper at a gay strip club..... well lo and behold I'd given the guy my real phone number and he called. Turns out he was not a stripper, but an MMA fighter.... This, I decided (not thinking it through properly) was hot. I went out with him and had a surprisingly good time. His calls were a bit sporadic, and we went on a couple of dates before the calls stopped. I moved on pretty quickly, no big deal...
Ok, flash forward to about a week ago.
I get a call from a number I don't know. I let it go to voicemail, and it turned out to be him. I call back and we chat. It's nice, so for a couple of days I chat a couple of times with him and we text back and forth. He tells me his mom died and he's looking to finally settle down. What girl doesn't want to hear that from a nice-looking guy? (well not the mom part, that is terrible. I was talking about the settle down part). As I talk to him I keep thinking, "he's being a little aggressive, but we did know each other from before so maybe that's why"....
Flash forward to this morning. Bear in mind it has only been a WEEK.
I want this guy to GO AWAY. He calls and texts constantly, and sends phone pics of whatever he happens to be doing. He asks me crazy questions that I don't want to answer, like what my salary is and how much I weigh and am I willing to move for a relationship. When I told him I wasn't going to tell him what I make he told me if we're going to be together he needs to know so we can combine our salaries! AAAH! BE TOGETHER?!? Who says that? This isn't a Lifetime movie, dude. As for my weight? My response to that was "none of your damn business" ... which apparently was his cue to GUESS (and incidentally, he guessed 15 pounds OVER what I actually weigh). Also:
• He hates beer. I don't know if I can handle that. In fact, his drink is an appletini with Sprite.
• He asked me if I'm into tanning. I'm a ginger, stupid. I don't tan.
• He has tribal armband tattoos.
• His job is a little sketchy - I'm not sure he makes what he says he does.
• He works part time at Abercrombie & Fitch - the store that makes me want to spontaneously iron.
• He's an MMA fighter. He likes beating the shit out of people. Red flag anyone?
• He listens to house music.
• He actually asked me "have you ever seen a dick before?"
And in all that communication overload, he hasn't actually tried to take me on a date. So here I am, positive that this guy can't possibly be any more wrong for me, or any more right for a VH1 reality show, when I get a text from him that says this:
"Um, if I'M gonna come up this weekend we need to plan it."
At that point, the tiny shred of control I was holding onto completely disintegrated. Ten seconds later, he called. This time, I answered. This is basically how it went. Yes, he did actually say these things:
Him: "I need more attention. I need lots of attention."
Him: "You could text more during the day, and before you go to bed."
Him: "I need to hear from you like that. All the time. It's the little things, girl."
Me: "I have to go."
Him: "Are you on your way to work?"
Me: "I've already been at work for 2 hours. I have to go now."
Him: "I'm on my way to work now. Call me when you get off, ok?"
Him: "Is something wrong? are you ok?"
Me: "I'm working."
Him: "Be sure to call me."
So....... yeah I was a little frosty to him. It did feel a little like I was kicking a puppy, but I need a little less CRAZY in my life right now. It sounds harsh, but whatever he's going through and trying to drag me into is not my problem. I got a text at one point that said "it's ok, I still luv ya"... and it caused me physical pain. This guy has to peace out while is still have my sanity.
Ok, so to take a cue from Demetri Martin, I made a chart about how hot a guy is vs. how much crazy I will tolerate:
The line represents my interest level. You know, I can tolerate some crazy in a really hot guy. But it's all relative. The crazier you are, the hotter you gotta be. But if you notice it gets to a point where I don't care how f*cking hot you are, you need to take that crazy and get it away from me, or I will run far, far away from you. The star represents the guy I've been talking about. It's not a perfect chart, but you get the idea.
Flash forward to now.
As you can probably guess, I didn't have to call him. He called me. I was nice, kept is short, and didn't give him a chance to talk or whine. It's done though, and I am relieved.... well at least I hope it's done. I don't want to have to bust out the story I have on tap about how my six cats (all with Bible names of course, and all my little angels) are looking for a daddy, but they are very choosy and can tell if a guy is unsuitable....... yeah that's a good one, but I guess I'll save it for another time.
I wish this guy good luck, and I hope he gets his shit together.
I hope the next guy I meet is normal. There's only so much of this I can take.