I am embarrassed to have dated you (Part 3)

So yeah--here's another dating horror story. I am really ashamed of this one.

I got pressured into yet another string of awkward dates with this guy (previously referred to as "Justin"), this time it was for: (1) dinner and a show (I should mention that it was dinner before a show that he assistant directed at a very well respected theater/arts center. I was PRAYING that he wouldn't be a huge pretentious show-off the whole time. He was, but that is not part of the story); (2) lunch the next day (I guess he had planned on sleeping with me).

(1) "Is there a doctor in the house?"

So I agreed to go out with this guy again because he offered to take me to a show he had assistant directed. Before the show, he took me to a sushi place that you could see directly into (like all the way to the back of the restaurant) from the street. I really hate places like that because I (surprisingly) have a touch of social phobia. However, in this instance I felt an odd sense of relief, like I knew that I wasn't going to be left alone with this guy who smelled a little too much like a woman, wore MAKE-UP over his pimples, and smiled like this dude. So first of all, after we sat down, and the hostess gave us our menus, he started to emphasize the cocktail list. For those of you who don't realize, if you do this on one of the first few dates, you might as well have "I am a sex offender" embossed on your everything. He then took a gander at the menu, and wiping the gross beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead (even though it was like the fucking polar ice caps in there). Oh. I should mention that he was one of those dudes that says "and the lady will have.."

Dinner conversation covered the following topics: His bisexuality, and how he wants to do couples sometimes. Also, a cast member and her family were literally sitting at the table next to ours. It might just be me, but the last thing I want to do while eating raw fish is listen to a dude describe how much he enjoys other dudes' dicks. I assume that this also might have been true for the cast member and her family, however I don't have exact confirmation on that. He only became embarrassed when the cast of his show walked right by the restaurant and made faces at us and waved their arms in the window--because being seen with me is pretty bad I guess.

He was annoying all the way to the theater, and through the overture. The night got really interesting when, as the leading male was making his first entrance, he was hit by a large piece of rolling scenery, staggered center stage, and kneeling down while clutching his side yelled, "HOLD!" (which means "stop everything" if you aren't a theater gay like me).

The curtain was drawn, and the house lights came up. Justin looked panicked, and then sprinted out of his seat towards the back of the theater. Then the house manager actually said "Is there a doctor in the house?" Yes. That is one of those things that I've always wanted to hear in real life. Long story short, the dude was fine, his understudy went on and was great. However, this meant that the date I wanted to be over was going to take a while longer, because Justin, as assistant director, had to give the cast notes after the show. Barf everywhere. I waited back stage like an asshole, everyone in the cast passing me and looking at me like "oh hey! You must be a fan! Aren't you so lucky to be meeting me right now?!" I had no interest in talking to any of these people, but had to say shit like "really nice work," and "you guys really pulled it together! Wow!" By the time Justin was done, the trains had stopped running (the trains in this particular city stop at midnight). OH. HOW CONVENIENT. So I was stuck right near Justin's apartment, which I now had to sleep in.

We get back to his apartment (which he described as "a panty dropper"--again. sex offender), and he proceeds to have a MASSIVE panic attack about emails he received from the director, etc. I read the emails and, trust me, they were fine. A normal person would've been all "ok," and gone to bed or whatever. But no, I was now stuck in this crazy dude's apartment for the night, with no trains running to get back home. He then put his head in my lap and started talking to me like I was his fucking therapist. I tried to redirect him several times, and he started freaking out saying "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE PRESENT WITH ME RIGHT NOW?!" um.. He then explained to me that he was "sorry" but he just didn't "feel sexy right now."

I have never been more relieved in my entire life.

(2) "Bean-O"

The next day, he stirred around noon (I had slept on the couch), and had (stupidly) decided to give him another chance. I figured, "whatever, he's going to buy me lunch then I'll go home." I should have just gone home. So we go to this place, where he insisted we sit in a booth, and that we sit on one side, next to each other (which was fucking weird). I immediately noticed that our server was anxious, and had a "training" badge on. When she spoke, it sounded like something they make you memorize when you are training: "Would you care for any beverages or perhaps one of our specially prepared appetizers?" Justin was not cool with this. He became furious at this poor girl, and kept mumbling stuff about tipping under his breath. I said "give her a break, she seems nervous. Also, I always tip at least 20% It's just wrong to do anything else, because waiting tables really sucks. And she's trying really hard." Justin got all huffy and snapped at me, "Well, I'm paying for this so I can tip her whatever I want." What an asshole.

We ordered (actually I ordered first this time, because I didn't want to hear "and the lady will have.." again in my life), and then he started rummaging through what can only be described accurately as a "hip-slung Murse." I heard something rattle, like pills, and I asked if he had to take medicine with food, or something. He then planted the BIGGEST bottle of "Bean-O" on the table, and stated: "This is so I don't fart myself to death." Yes. Charming. He took a pill, and went to the bathroom, leaving the bottle of Bean-O on display next to my plate (the plate I was gonna eat off of). Then, I (obviously) texted everyone I knew, because this was the 2nd funniest thing this kid had ever done. I ate as quickly as I could, and got the fuck out of there, making sure that he saw me hand a bunch of cash to our waitress.

I am embarrased to have dated you: the squeakquel

Again. to preface and to disclaim, disclaim, disclaim: 2008-2009, albeit very fun...not exactly my best moments. I dated many amazing guys, and also some idiots and freaks. Here is another story about the latter.

"The Cobbler"

One magical night, while my friends and I were hanging at one of the bars we never leave, I accidentally smashed a door into a very hot guy's face. He laughed, and walked away uninjured. Later (when I was not sober), he approached me and said "hey, didn't you open a door into my face before?" and I was all "yes. that was me." We started talking, and he seemed a little anxious, but I figured that was because he was wearing those little athletic shorts that they have at American Apparel (he was playing kickball before) and he was kind of embarrassed that he didn't have time to change before coming out with his friends. I found out later, I was wrong, but we'll get into that.

So anyway, after watching him roll about 40 cigarettes, he finally asked if we could "hang out sometime." The next time we hung out, I was sober, and realized that NO, he's weird and anxious all the time. Also he mentioned that he had to drop his shoes off at the "cobbler" so that they could get fixed. Of course I laughed, thinking it was a joke. No. No, friends. Not a joke.

Before I go on, I should emphasize that this guy was unusually good looking.

I had been dating him for two weeks, and I knew something was really off about this guy. He was awkward in social situations, and didn't seem to understand how to navigate them, or pick up on social cues (ie: interrupting conversations even when they looked intense or private to a more perceptive outside viewer). He was excessively formal in his speech (the use of the word "cobbler" was not the only strangely formal and outdated word he frequently used), and in what he wore (he wore a tuxedo to this "kickball formal" we went to). His affect and speech were pretty flat, and he had a hard time understanding when other people had bigger reactions to emotional stimuli, and that other people had a seemingly larger range of emotions than he had. However, he was so sweet, and (again) really really hot. So I decided to just keep trying until I couldn't take it anymore.

He as convinced he had A.D.D. and a learning disability (the history of the learning disability changed every time he talked about it), but I really didn't have a doubt in my mind that his family doctor was wrong, and that he had Asperger's disorder (so he was wasting money and time on ritalin and therapy for anxiety). I thought, well maybe its just like really mild Asperger's, so clearly were not like, getting married, because he annoys the fuck out of me, but eh..hes really cute...

One time in our brief time dating, we were on the train going out, and he was telling me all about his rituals on the train. I decided that I couldn't fucking take it anymore, and took out a Sudoku puzzle so he would be distracted by an activity instead of talking. He said "remind me of the rules again? I haven't played in a while." If you have ever understood the rules to Sudoku, they're not that fucking hard, so you wouldn't just forget. Like, you don't forget Snood, or fucking Mine Sweeper, you're just all "oh right, right" once you start playing again. So he was obviously lying. I delicately explained the rules, "I mean, you already know this, but its one through nine..."

He freaked out and kept writing numbers in the margins, and totally had a melt down when he couldn't figure the puzzle out. Eventually I said, "hey can I finish it?" just to put him out of his misery, and he ACTUALLY said "Oh, sure. I wasn't even really paying attention to this anyway." Right. That's why there's sweaty palm marks all over it.

He slept over that night, and had to get up early for a job (getting paid to do some film crew stuff for a day), so he asked me to set an alarm, which I did. He slept through the alarm, and when he woke up, and realized that he was late (and fired), he started SCREAMING at me, and tearing my bedroom apart looking for his phone (pillows, books, etc everywhere). "WHY DIDN'T YOU SET THE ALARM? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHY DID YOU DO THIS?" I was actually pretty calm while it was happening, because I was thinking "oh cool, now I have a reason to break up with you."

He tore my room apart, and finally found his phone in his bag. He talked to the guy who had gotten him the job for that day, and had gotten fired from that particular shoot, but was told that he would get more jobs in the future. So all in all it probably wasn't worth completely freaking me out and disrespecting me and my house. I told him to get his stuff and leave. He ran out to my front porch shirtless and started wailing (like a little kid or an animal) and hitting the brick wall. Hearing the sound, I rushed out to find him screaming, and my landlords (who live below me) outside in their pajamas looking on, very concerned. I told him to go inside and wait for me (he ran inside like a scared animal), and I reassured my landlords who asked if they should call the police. I told them no, and they told me to call them if I needed anything.

I came into my apartment to this guy still freaking out, but also helping himself to the Snapple in my fridge. I then had to de-escalate the person who had just wrecked my house, scared the shit out of me and my landlords, and essentially made me feel unsafe in my own home.

I broke up with him on the phone. He didn't really seem to understand why I wanted to stop seeing him, and explained that we just needed "another week." We got around to talking about his diagnosis, and as bad as I felt, I told him that he probably has Asperger's and that stimulant medication might not be the answer. He took that opinion very graciously (I really didn't tell him to make him feel bad), actually he took it as a compliment (I think he said something like "there are many brilliant and beautiful people on the spectrum").

I know. I know. I know. But he was so pretty. And I just wanted to touch it. He actually came to one of my shows recently, and he was still totally weird, and bad at picking up on social cues, but the guy I'm seeing now (who I really like, and so far it seems to be working out pretty well!!) even said: "yeah. he's so weird. but, to be fair he is a good looking guy." But (sigh) I guess the moral of the story is probably like "break up with someone when you start really hating them, or you'll feel guilty because they have a pervasive developmental disorder, and have to wait until they tear your room apart" or something.

Help Haiti

As we all know, there is a MASSIVE crisis in Haiti right now. As a social worker (and a person in general), I immediately wanted to fly to Haiti and help out in any way I could. However, the Center for International Disaster Information has put out the following statement:

"Volunteers without prior disaster relief experience are generally not selected for relief assignments. Candidates with the greatest chance of being selected have fluency in the language of the disaster-stricken area, prior disaster relief experience, and expertise in technical fields such as medicine, communications logistics, water/sanitation engineering. In many cases, these professionals are already available in-country. Most agencies will require at least ten years of experience, as well as several years of experience working overseas. "(Center for International Disaster Information)

This, of course, makes a lot of sense, and will probably filter out most of us from going to Haiti right now (because, my guess is that they don't have time to train unskilled volunteers). The best thing we can do is to make sure that the people who have the expertise to help have enough supplies, etc. to do their jobs.

InterAction has a helpful website listing agencies that are providing relief funds to Haiti. (AVOID SCAMS, CHECK OUT ALL AGENCIES BEFORE DONATING)

And, probably the easiest way to help is to text "HAITI" to "90999," which will donate $10 to the Red Cross, charged to your phone bill.

I am embarrased to have dated you

2008 & 2009, although EXTREMELY fun, mark a period in my life that was incredibly heart breaking and self-destructive (blah blah, because it's so hard being white and affluent in the U.S.). Anyway, I say this as a disclaimer for the story below.

I dated many guys during these two years, some were sweet, some were asshole, etc. However, there were a few standouts that were FREAK. SHOWS.

I think I would be doing everyone a disservice by keeping what happened in the brief times that I dated each of these fucking crazy people to myself. Granted, I have told the following story many times (I'm pretty sure I told it at the Trash Bar during a 10an10a show while Gillian was tuning), but eh, whatever.

"Let me drop a beat"

When I was about 23, I did what most 23 year-olds do, which is "fall in love." Like most 23 year-olds I thought that relationship would "last forever." And, obviously I was wrong. This story is not about that guy (let's call him "Scott"), but a close friend of his. So this close friend (let's call him "Justin"), NEVER talked to me while I was still together with Scott. So I was surprised that he showed up to a roof party I threw after Scott and I had broken up.

Justin immediately got shit-faced at my party, and kept inserting himself into conversations in creepy ways (for example, while I was sitting on my friend Jed's lap and telling him a story, Justin came over and asked if he could sit on Jed's lap too. Fucking WEIRD). Later in the evening (when Justin wouldn't leave), he took me aside and admitted that he'd "always had a thing" for me and "I won't have sex with you tonight, Leah, but I'm probably going to kiss you." So, apparently I didn't really have a choice in any physical stuff he wanted to grossly do to me. Gross. He also kept following me into my room and closing the door every time I went in there to get something. Okay. So if you followed that: I NEVER said I like him back, or that I wanted to do anything, this was all one-sided and very very very creepy.

Later in the year, I finally caved and agreed to meet him for a drink, because I was bored and wasn't seeing anyone. He was wearing make-up over his 3 pimples. Not like tinted Clearasil, or whatever. No. Make-up. I let him buy me drinks until I pretty much couldn't see, and we went to my house (which was across the street from the bar we met at--just in case I needed to make a quick getaway).

I'm not really sure why I let him in my house again, but I think it had something to do with the fact that I was just looking for ANYTHING to get my mind off of my life at the time. Whatever my reasons were, we started kissing on my couch (please be reminded that I was very drunk). We were a few minutes in, when he stopped, grabbed both of my shoulders, and lightly pushed me away. Then without a moment of hesitation he said "Aight, now I'm going to drop a beat!" And, he started beat-boxing.

Usually I am embarrassed by beat-boxing. This time, however, I wanted to kill him, and then myself. So I did the only thing I could think of as a drunk person, which was to grab the squirter bottle meant for the cats (I had a disgusting room mate with disgusting cats then), and I squirted him in the face. "STOP." He stopped for a second. Then he giggled (which was creepier than you can imagine), and grabbed the squirter bottle from my hands, and squirted me back. OH THIS IS A FUN GAME I GUESS! (I assume he was thinking). I'm pretty sure I squirted him in the face a few more times, and then he left, probably thinking that we were having an awesome time being totally crazy and fun with each other!!!! I went on three more dates with this freak show.

I've been drawing faces on food again

sometimes when i cant sleep i google image search things like "lady coconut parade" or "mother puppy love garden" and then draw faces on stuff that looks like it needs faces. i do this with microsoft paint. if i had kidpix, that would be acceptable too. here are two i made today.

(i know this one is really stupid, but i admit smirked out loud a little)