The return of every guy I’ve ever dated… and a Brit.

I’m just going to cut right to it, last week started off with a bang, Sunday night I got another text from Douchearoo:

“Thank you, just thank you for being so normal.”

I decided not to reply to this one, because really? Is this what he’s going to do every time him and his crazy pants girlfriend get into a fight and she throws stuff at his ugly face, or whatever it is that crazy pants girlfriends do?  I don’t need anyone to remind me that I’m not crazy, but thank you anyway Douchearoo.   I’m sure he feels like a big douche right now, as he should.

Monday, I got a text from Texas…. he’s baaaack, for good. I opted out of hanging out with him last week because I just need time to adjust to the fact that I’m going to have to start drinking during the week and that I might just have to throw in the towel and make out with him.  He seems all right after what I went through this weekend.

Saturday, Betty came for a visit.  We started drinking pretty much the second she arrived.  5 or 6 hours later we made our way downtown to a bar next to a concert hall.

We walk in, grab a seat, and start to suck down drinks when I hear someone walk up behind me and say… “Gizzy?” I turn around to see that it’s Snoop-Linus.  What. The. Fuck.  He pulls up a chair, is wasted and acting like a drunk asshole, pulls out a wad of cash and says, “I’ll take this to the store right now and buy you a ring, I’ll do it, and we’ll go to Vegas tonight.”  Um, good for you but I don’t want to marry you, or talk to you, ever.   But what I really said was, “What kind of asshole walks around with that much cash?  You’re going to get robbed, idiot!” He proceeded to tell me that he was at the bar alone, and was about to attend a concert alone next door, because his phone was dead and he doesn’t know where his friends are.  

Then, he ordered me, Betty, and the 3 old men to his right drinks, then got in a fight with the female bartender that ended in her buying him a drink.  And I was just flabbergasted.  At this point I got up, and said… “Well this has been grand.  Goodbye.”  Walked out of the bar grabbed a cab.  Of course he chased us out asking if he could stay at my place, if I would give him another chance, and if we could just talk in private for a minute.   Now, seriously, what the fuck!?  I couldn’t even say anything, I just got in the cab… there are no words.  

Yesterday I get a text from a number not in my phone saying, “I’m in love with you and never stopped loving you.  I would give you the stars and the moon if I could.”  I replied being all, “Uhh who is this?” and it was Snoop-Linus.  Apparently he lost his dead phone Saturday night and decided to get a new number.   I just can’t even be funny about this because it’s that stupid, what an idiot.

Anyway, after we dipped out on Snoop-Linus, Betty and I came across an underground tavern.  We went in and started playing a game of pool when these two guys in suits came up to us… 

One was engaged, one was not, one was 36, one was 29, one was cute, one was not, one was British, one was not, and they were both professional tennis players.  

That conversation went down like so, “What do you guys do?”… “Well, we’re going to sound like asshole’s, but we’re tennis pros.” Yep, you’re right.  You do sound like assholes.

Since Betty is basically married she took it upon herself to pair me with the 36 year old, not cute, single, british guy… I mean ok, his accent was cool and it was fun to talk to someone who has traveled the world and done cool things that I haven’t.  But pretty much as soon as I started talking to the guy he was saying shit about how we were going to get married.  Which I’m just like, have some tact man.  You’re british, you’re supposed to be classy.  

I mentioned mine and Lucky’s 30th birthday Euro trip, since he is from Europe he had some interesting things to say… he asked where we’d be going and I said, “Well we haven’t really talked about it, but probably some of your standard European countries/cities…. London, Paris, Italy…maybe Greece and Spain?”  Well, being a “pretentious European asshole” (his words not mine) he pretty much had to put his 2 cents in about everything I had to say about it.  “Ugh.. why would you want to go to Greece!”  “Ummm… because it’s beautiful.  That’s why.  I actually would like to honeymoon in the Greek Isles if I can ever meet a guy who isn’t a douche.”  Then he proceeded to tell me that he knows someone with “fabulous summer homes” in each of these countries that we could stay at.  I mean that’s cool, but #1 this trip is 4 years from now and #2 you’re not coming, so thanks for bragging but no thanks.  

The conversation from there on out got a little blurry because I was drinking heavily to avoid all that awkwardness… the next thing I remember him saying is that he’s from Wales and it’s like the West Virginia of England – I was wasted so I just thought that was down right hilarious and started saying, “Prince Harry of West Virginia!” in my finest British accent to everyone in the bar.  

THEN! The other guy’s fiance and her friend bust through the bar doors with massive chips on their shoulder.  With good reason, I guess.  They left and dragged the engaged guy out with them. So Betty, myself, and the Brit were left at the bar to drink.  The next thing I know after that I hear Betty inviting the Brit back to my place.   Which I don’t do.  I’ll hang out with strangers in a bar, but we’re not in college anymore – we can’t just be inviting random guys back to my apartment, but he came anyway.   I offered him a beer, apologized for the fact that I live in a frat house, and got into my pajamas as a hint to him that it was time to go.  He stuck around for a few hours and finally took the hint after I wouldn’t let Betty leave the two of us in the room alone, but not before he could get my number.  

Not 2 seconds after he walked out my front door he texted me, “Would you like to grab a movie or a bite on Monday evening? It was really nice to meet you tonight.”

I didn’t reply.

The next morning I get another text from him, “Morning! If you girls would like to come to the tennis club for breakfast this morning, come on in, it’s on me!” (The tennis place he practices at is like a block from my apartment.  Yay.)

4 hours later I replied, at 2pm.  “Ohh sorry, we just got out of bed.”

“No worries, I am jealous you got to sleep in.  I have been training since 6:30!  Can I call you later?”

I didn’t reply.

Later that night he texts me again, “Hey how was your day?  I’m bloody exhausted.  I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink on Tuesday night?”

I replied yesterday morning saying, “My day was good, I have plans Tuesday night (lie) but thanks.”

He replied, “How about bowling on Wednesday?”

So I pulled the unthinkable, “I’m actually leaving for a business trip for the next week.” Another lie.  ECK!

So he says, “Safe travels, lets catch up next week.  It would be fun to hang out.”

I know that lying was wrong, but I don’t have it in my heart to tell someone that I’m just flat out not interested.  He’ll get the hint right? Betty was all, why don’t you just hang out with him and tell him it’s just as friends?  Because! Yes I know I am looking for friends, but I am looking for friends that are in my generation..and he’s 36, that’s 10 years older than me and quite honestly it makes me a little uncomfortable to even think about it.   I just came to terms with the fact that I might have to date a guy who is 30, so 36 is like really pushing it. 

Now, before everyone starts calling me an ageist and posting nasty things about me on your own blogs and start commenting saying I should give the guy a chance because love has no age and all that bullshit… Let me just say that this is my life and if I don’t want to get to know an old man I don’t have to and anyone who doesn’t like it can kiss my ass.   I’ll do what I want! Damnit!

Then I got a text from Dina yesterday begging me to come out with her and Sweater Vest next weekend, because “he really wants to see me”.  And I just realized that I’ve never told you about Sweater Vest…

Sigh

I’m tired.

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4 thoughts on “The return of every guy I’ve ever dated… and a Brit.

  1. I wish you would have grabbed the cash from snoop linus and ran like hell.

    -L

  2. justmarriedgirl says:

    They always come back. Always. Ugh.

    You are so right! Why waste your time with someone in whom you have zero interest? When I was in your position, I used to think, “Well, maybe he knows my husband,” or “Hey, free dinner,” but I can say that most times, I was ended up hanging out with someone I didn’t like very much.

    Hopefully, he gets the hint!

    • Yes! I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from.. And people have told me the same thing you thought, well maybe he knows some nice guys… But my pressumption is that since he’s 36 he probably hangs out with 36 year olds and if he doesn’t? Well he’d have some other 26 year old girlfriend by now.
      -G

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