I’m currently hungover, complete with a headache, so forgive me if some of this doesn’t add up. I’ll try my best.
I had plans to go out to dinner with my friend Josh last night. It’s sort of amazing he hasn’t made it into this blog yet. I met Josh through my coworkers years ago. He used to have my job, he quit, and I took it.
So we met, I thought he was cute, so I tried to make advances while he kind of lead me on. I don’t know what to call it, but we would hang out, go to bars, etc…sometimes we would makeout, and eventually I really started liking him, but he didn’t want to get into a relationship.
I was crushed. He’s one of those guys who claims to be a nice one, doesn’t understand why he can’t get a girlfriend, and always bitches about it. Here I was throwing myself at him, and he wouldn’t have it.
Somehow, we’ve remained friends. Josh is really funny, he makes me laugh, he’s smart, and generally fun to hang out with.
About 10 minutes before we were going to meet, he asked me if his friend Jesse could join us. Cool with me, I said. I’ve met Jesse a few times, but never really gotten to know him. He’s attractive, smart, good on paper…but…he’s pretty religious. So religious, in fact, that he’s a virgin.
This is why I’ve never considered hitting on Jesse.
So we get to the restaurant, and things are going good. Everyone is eating, drinking…and Im pretty sure this is where the problems begin. Josh asks me what I’m doing for Easter, so I tell him the truth—I’m making a meal for myself.
He laughed at me and asked what I was making. I told him, a small ham, glazed carrots, scalloped potatoes, and a chocolate-raspberry truffle tarte. He gave me a weird look and said it was sad.
I told him I didn’t mean to be a pity case, but I don’t have family close by, and I’ve never made an Easter dinner, so I was simply using the holiday as and excuse to cook (is this pathetic?).
The conversation moved on.
The guys are talking about their most recent dating failures. Since I haven’t been on a date since October, I have nothing to contribute to the conversation, so I keep drinking.
The night should have ended after dinner. But, in typical Lucky fashion, everything just has to be driven into the ground. We go to a nearby bar, where I proceed to down three vodka-sodas.
Remember Elmo and the work drama we got into? Well, I proceed to tell that story, knowing full-well Josh and Jesse are BFF with Elmo. I really don’t know how the subject came up, but I went with it, and made a conscious effort to be cool and calm about it. But I was drunk, so I feel like that whole thing didn’t go over well.
The mood of the night had shifted.
During our bar-hopping venture, we came across many ladies out and about, too. I thought they were pretty, but J & J suddenly became the critics of the runway—assuring me, no that girl wasn’t cute, this girl was plain, she seems boring, etc.
I was starting to get mad, and I never hide it well.
The guys, especially Josh, didn’t understand why I was upset. Sometimes, I think I want to know what guys are thinking, but when I actually get the truth, it hurts my feelings. I’ve spent a large part of my dating life trying to convince myself that guys aren’t as bad as we women make them out to be.
But when I hear the things they say, straight from the horse’s mouth, it breaks my heart. How does any woman, even me, stand a chance? A woman has to look perfect to even get a hello? A phone number? A drink?
I wanted to just sit in silence, finish my beer, and go home. But Josh kept on.
“Are you even here right now?” he asked me. I shook my head.
“Oh, THIS is just classic Lucky, wait for it. She’s gonna go off.”
I felt embarrassed that I’d even opened my big mouth about Elmo. I felt like I ruined the night and Jesse probably hated me and thought I was crazy. And I felt ugly, sitting there with the critics.
Finally, it was time to go home. Once I got there, a very standard chain of events occurred: Josh made sure I made it home->asked if I had a bad time->asked if I want to come over and makeout.
Normally, I fall for this, and end up sleeping at his house (just for the record, we’ve never had sex). I blame it on the crush I had on him years ago, and still somewhere thinking it could work.
But this time, I said no. I told him I guess I really am sensitive and what they said about other girls made me feel insecure. Then I just went to sleep and wokeup to a slew of messages—him confirming that I was indeed NOT coming over to indulge him.
Now I just feel weird. I feel like I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did, and I was awkward and drunk. But I also feel like it was disappointing to hear what they said about other women.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a loser.