Earlier this year, I had been in a self-loathing, dark-hole of “why-me” for a couple days and was starting to develop a “man hater” attitude. So I called up one of my soul kids, S, who is so kick-ass awesome and the person I go to when I need to be told “how it is” when it comes to all things male. He also happens to be gay, a phenomenal dancer and one of the best ego boosters a girl could ask for. So there I sat, face smushed up against arm of the couch, robe on and I vented. With mascara running down my face and onto the fabric of my white robe, I sniffled, sighed heavily and listened to him straight-talk me. “It’s like something Eddie Murphy said. All men have to divide and conquer as many women as they can. You have to be a man to understand it. We are low by nature and have to do it. I just think it’s bred into our genes before we’re born. We must fulfill our basic instinct to fill the earth and become many.”
Enter me analyzing what he just said and pleading the case of the unknown and imaginary stranger I had built up in my mind, whom I was convinced would be the exception. “No, even your dream guy will be that way. Just shut up. Listen to what I’m telling you. Women say that all men are dogs. You shouldn’t be calling us dogs, because dogs are loyal.”
And then it hit me. Probably the entire duration of my love life, up until the point in this story, I’ve had some fucked up fairy tale notion that the guy I end up with will be more god- like, do-gooder, faithful of all faithfuls…aka…isn’t really going to be a man. OF COURSE I don’t understand men, I don’t have a penis. OF COURSE I can’t wrap my brain around why men are men if I’m unwilling to accept the things that just make them men…and dumb.
Suddenly, I stretched out of the little fetal ball I had myself curled up into, wiped away the snot and felt a massive weight lift from my shoulders. I thanked S for his profound insight and he said, “Get sexy. I’m taking you dancing.” And that he did. Where’s the best place for a jilted broad to get her groove on without unwelcome male attention and non-judgment? A male gay bar! It was a night full of Britney and Madonna beats, disco lights and oodles of compliments on my hair.
Then I saw him from across the room. A 6’5″ perfect specimen…sploosh. I went up to S and said, “That’s a god damn shame.” He replied, “huh?”. I looked towards the bar and pointed at the very pretty bartender workin it at the bar. S laughed and said, “Honey, he’s not gay.” I laughed back and said, “You’re fucking delusional. He’s attractive and is working here. How in the hell do you know anyways?” He pulled my arm and lead me over to his partner, B. “Tell Mercedes D’s straight“. B looked at me and smiled, “Oh honey, he is straight as they come. I would know.” Then he winked.
I did the 10 minute stare-down analysis and tried to see if I could prove their theory wrong. The more I watched, the more I guess I could see some straight in him. We made eye contact from across the room, I smiled and the toothy grin was returned. GO TIME. I went up and ordered a drink and then asked for a pen and a piece of paper. I wrote my number down, handed everything back to him, grasped my drink, smiled and walked away. Only one way to find out. If he called me, that would mean he was interested. It would also mean that I wouldn’t be dealing with a pansy ass boy who gets emasculated at the woman making the first move.
I danced my face off the rest of the evening and got my groove back.
A few days later I had a voice mail from D asking me out to dinner. Interesting. I was convinced he much rather preferred Calvin Klein’s to Victoria’s Secret. Mercedes-0, Gay boys – 1. I immediately texted S and B and they were jumping with ecstatic jovial and homosexual hyper-ness. Actually we were communicating via text so I really can’t concretely say what they were doing. But the text had multiple exclamation points, smiley faces and had an S pre-cursor attached, “I hardly ever endorse people because I think most of them are shit and would never be good enough for you, but this one has my vote. Go Slow.”
First Date: Phenomenal. I’m a huge fan of long conversation over good food, full of giggles, wine consumption and no awkwardness. Go, D. I was actually considering giving this guy some time and effort even though I had just implemented a strict “I don’t date anyone under 30 rule”. He also played me the saxophone without a shirt on. I was down with where this courting phase was going. But alas, it would not last…
I will save the long drawn out version and give you the cliff note version:
1. He was a terrible kisser. Magic happens in a kiss…sometimes. Other times you feel like you’re sucking face with a horse who just ate a pickle. Me, I’m a slow, passionate and sometimes ferocious kisser. So, I can get a pretty good indication of how we are going to chemically react based upon how someone takes control and smooches me. I was soooooooo disappointed. He was too incredibly good-looking not to rock the lip lock. Sigh…
2. The words “Disney movies ruined romance for me” came out of his mouth. Ummmm, I don’t think I’ve ever heard any male even come close to saying the word romance in serious conversation. I also don’t really have any boys that I hang out with that reference Disney movies. I dig a man’s man. I would rather listen to you talk about chopping fire wood or that potato you blew up in science class in 3rd grade. Not anything about romance, that’s my job….sad face.
3. I go into shit show mode during baseball. Nothing about me acts like a normal human being from March to October, but more like a crazed, hyperactive squirrel. So I bought tickets to a playoff game and invited him along so he could see what I meant. I was super excited because in our text conversations he was telling me about how “crazy and wild and fun and shenanigan filled” his personality is.
So D came as my date and B came because he was the only one that wanted to pay X amount of dollars for a playoff ticket. They talked to each other THE ENTIRE TIME. I literally sat there taking dumb pictures of myself AND the old lady knitting a few rows down from us. I even said, “I’m going to sit between you both in just a second if you don’t stop chatting like high school girls.” They completely ignored me. So I bought two beers, downed them both and said, “Alright, tell me something really inappropriate. Shock me.” He gave me a deer in the headlight look and responded with, “I’m actually really inappropriate, Mercedes. I just haven’t showed any of that to you. I don’t want to offend you.” I picked up HIS beer, took a swig and said, “Try me.” What do you think happened? You think he grabbed me and made out with me, or said the most insane shocking thing that ever was or that he dropped trow and mooned everyone behind us or grabbed my chest? None of those things. He turned back around to talk to B. I rolled my eyes and drunkenly instagrammed the rest of the game.
4. Me and the roomies went to his bar to say hi. Boys were falling all over him. My BFF got drunk, walked up to him, rolled her eyes and said, “You got to be fucking kidding me.” I will say she’s a bit protective. But when I saw him slowly take of his shirt after all the little twinks were encouraging him to get half naked and then NOT flinch at all the same sex attention, I think I repeated the same phrase she used.
5. He invited me over to watch a movie. I saw a stack of boy movies, which I dig much more than non-boy movies. So I told him to surprise me and pick one, thinking we’d be watching 300 or some other non-chick flick. Nooooope. He popped in Disney’s A Goofy Movie. I literally could not make out words. He sang the songs, then fell asleep halfway through. I sat on the couch eating almonds and pushing his face into the side of the couch every time he started snoring.
6. The real icing on the cake happened when we kind of sort of stepped out in a group of mutual friends and I noticed a text he sent to his mom calling me “the girlfriend”. After hanging out with our friends he had to run up to the bar he worked at to do some paperwork and he added “Rocky Horror Picture Show is playing at the bar today and I really don’t want to miss it…“. Well, ok.
I’ve never seen Rocky Horror Picture Show. I know why. The part where the dudes are in lingerie came on and I jokingly said, “Damn, that guy has a pretty nice ass.” D shot me a look and said, “My ass would look soooo much better, don’t you agree?” Then he proceeded to dance and sing around the bar. It really was an epic moment for me. As I’m standing there in a group of his gay patrons, they all look at him prancing about and then at me. One of them leaned over and whispered, “Are you sure he knows that you’re a girl.” He proceeded to do a bunch of jager shots and get intoxicated. That was totally cool, but then I had to listen to some conversation about an old friend “needing to just come out of the closet already”.
Sounds like a wrap to me…
I will say this. I really like D as a person. He’s kind, sweet and everyone genuinely loves him. I know that if I ever needed anything, I could call him and he’d be there in a heartbeat. I still have no clue what sex he really prefers and that’s 100% ok. To each his own. But, him and I together were like oil and water.
There’s no crying in baseball and there certainly is no crying over the fact that the bartender from the gay bar and I didn’t work out.
Advice: As pretty as that drink slinging piece of man meat looks, all sweaty and perfect under the pink flashing lights of a gay bar, don’t give him your number. If you’re looking for boyfriend material, that is.
As I was leaving the office for the day, I got into a casual conversation with a co-worker. He asked me how the dating world had been treating me. That sparked him asking me the question, “Do you have a type?”
I stood there for a second and thought about it. I realized that I don’t think I had ever defined a particular type for myself. I mean, I have my list of deal breakers, but that’s about it. So, the only thing I could think of to say was, “Someone that’s strong and going to be a man so I can act like a woman.” I don’t know how many freaking times I’ve said that in the past month. But, obviously I feel very strongly about it if it keeps coming up in conversation.
I got home from work and sat down to write and really thought long and hard about that question. For some reason it was really bothering me and I think I have a slight issue with the whole “having a type” premise. I’ve dated people from different backgrounds and have been very open to not narrowing the sea of potential date-ables based on some wish list I jotted down after reading cosmo.
Maybe I was just being too analytical but I needed to talk it out. So when my BFF got home I posed the question to her: “Do I have a type?”
She giggled, cocked her head to the side and gave me the look. “Ummmm yeah. Tall, witty, charming, confident and a nice smile.” It rolled off her tongue like she had it rehearsed.
Well, damn. I guess I do have a “type”. Now that I think about it, those are definitely qualities that attract me to someone. It’s all the other stuff that determines if they get nexted or not.
A lot has happened in my love life the past couple of years. I’m not Taylor Swift so I’m not going to write some sappy, shit-tastic compilation of lyrics to describe how I feel about each person who came in and out of my life.
BUT, because I whole-heartedly believe that every person you cross paths with, no matter the span of time, they were put there for a reason. So, here’s to reflecting on the things I learned about myself and love in 2012.
DB – I literally broke into a thousand pieces to find myself when shit hit the fan with this one. I’ll call this one my whirlwind romance turned living nightmare. Proof that love can be a sickness, a facade and the furthest thing from the truth. I fell hard, literally had my heart ripped out and stomped upon and learned that no one is ever going to be “the one” who makes someone change their ways from being a narcissist. That change has to come within the person and through a whole hell of a lot of soul-searching. Though I turned out to be just another one of his victims, I’m pretty sure what I learned and gained from the experience serves as a guiding light and inner knowledge I would have never been able to obtain anywhere else.
So DB, thanks for all the hurt and heartache, I’m truly better because of the hell I survived with you.
Taylor Swift – I give everyone I date nicknames, but this one in particular came from one of my roommates. This short little stint involved me dating someone who had a kid and was still in love with his “almost” ex-wife. YAY! He dropped the L-Bomb inside of 3 weeks. My response: “Shut the fuck up”. He also tried controlling things about me down to the type of toothpaste I used. Note to self: Put me in a corner and I will fight back. Should I mention his numerous ADD melt-downs? He thought his big salary, boat and ability to buy me anything he thought I wanted was all that mattered in a relationship and that the constant text wars between him and his ex on their “new love interests” were no big deal. Not that I needed any more ammunition to end it, but the day we went to visit my cousin he told me, “If you ever let me get in a car knowing we’ll be gone for an hour and you don’t bring something for me to eat, there’s gonna be a problem.” Yeah, me leaving your ass on the side of the road.
Taylor Swift, Thank you for making me 100%understand the importance of dealing with baggage before you jump into something with someone else. Oh and for that kick ass stuffed mushroom recipe.
Scottsdale – Modern day ramblin’ man. It was completely casual for me until I started to realize I really liked the fucker. Needless to say, the power-struggle began, I paid attention to his actions instead of the words coming out of his mouth and I diligently worked on forcing myself to remain indifferent. Because, I knew inevitably we were on a path to nowhere. I just couldn’t resist the textual banter, his inappropriate mouth and how much fun I had with him. Unfortunately, the things in which we cannot possess always seem to be the things that are always in the back of our mind. But if you’re more smart than dumb and have learned your lesson, you learn to not play with fire, no matter how pretty or enticing it may look. He did give me a sound piece of personal advice, “Act like puppy, you’re too guarded and jaded.”
So Scottsdale, the puppy has been out of her cage more often than not. Thanks for that revelation and ghosting me. PS – You’re really selfish in the sack. 🙂
The one that I let get away – After our first date, I was pretty sure he was the next serious boyfriend and unlike anyone that I had ever dated. Also the person that I said to my guy BFF, “I have no interest in sleeping with anyone else.” Call it being smitten or bitten by that crazy little bug that makes you say really dumb things sometimes. I don’t really have an explanation on how this one unraveled so damn quickly, but it did. It was difficult to walk away from, and I went back and forth for a while. I think it was mostly my ego that kept gut punching me, but my common sense finally won and put me back in my place of non-hormonally and emotionally induced thinking. To sum things up, I started falling for this one and it pisses me off even typing it out, but unresolved baggage and unnecessary dramatization are things that don’t sit well with me. He may have been extremely pretty, an insanely good kisser and our kids would have had phenomenal hair, but when things start going sour so early on and phone conversations are laced with arguments…somethings wrong.
So thanks for being strong enough to fight with me and that it’s possible for me to feel that “spark” in regards to someone else. Even though it fizzled and then I just wanted to throw the remnants at you for being such a baby, I’m glad we met.
I have learned that the pretty ones are usually a huge mess under the perfection, the bigger the muscles the smaller their commitment to a relationship is going to be and that I probably need to start rock climbing or join a bowling league. Maybe I’ll run into a cool dude that’s not doing steroids, is emotionally available and doesn’t have a personality disorder.
We’ve all heard the dreaded phrase. It usually follows a week of non-stop texts, hour long phone calls, or a set of really fantastic few dates with a special someone.
Then, all of a sudden: YOU GET FUCKING GHOSTED. You spend a few days wondering what the hell happened, or re-living every conversation or checking every text to see if you said something wrong. Time passes and you finally get to the point where you really could give a shit less if the person that dropped off the face of the earth ever contacts you again…then they re-surface. The explanation: “I’ve been really busy”.
Advice: Pass go, do not collect $200.00. Instead, go grab a drink with someone on Park Place that actually wants to invest time in you. It doesn’t really matter what lead the person that ghosted you to in fact ghost you, but actions speak louder than words. Pulling out on communication is all the proof you need to throw the pudding out.
I’ll admit, I’ve probably done it more than it’s been done to me, but both sides are not pleasant.
If you’re the ghoster: Only narcissists/misogynists enjoy hurting other people, let’s hope you’re neither of those. But,if you’re somewhat normal and suck at letting someone down aka friend-zoning them, like I do, this situation can feel nauseating. Cue the only thing you want to do is throw newspapers over the spilled milk of hurting someone else’s feelings that’s staring you in your heart-breaking little face. Because I suck BALLS at confrontation, I do the fade out and then when the other person has reached out I use the tried and true line, “I’m sorry, I’ve been really busy.”
Is it fair? No. Should I own the situation and be more honest? In a perfect world, yes. But, I’ve learned through trial and error, it’s best to just leave the person wondering what happened. Sounds harsh, but the dating world is hard ya’ll. If they are strong, possess confidence and are secure in the fact that they are worthy enough not to chase something down that’s trying to run away, then they’ll be OK with the unknown. At some point, we all need to stop being fucking babies and accept things for what they are.
Shit happens. Things stop clicking. Red flags and deal breakers, no matter how shallow or insignificant they seem to another person, serve as your relationship bible. Someone ends up being the asshole no matter what the circumstances are…Stop caring so much. That’s not me saying don’t give a flying fuck about the other persons feelings, but really ask yourself what good is it going to do stressing out about it. 9 times out of 10 you telling a person you don’t want to date/hang-out/talk anymore and you giving the honest truth will make you look like the asshole.
Real life examples of why I stopped dating someone and went into ghost mode:
- Smoker – I do not date smokers. It’s a deal breaker I will not budge on.
- He had “too big” of a package – Ummmm yeah. It had recurring yeast infection written all over it. Seriously, it was trophy case worthy and I was afraid of it.
- He was the furthest thing from masculine I’ve ever seen – Boys, if you don’t have a vagina, don’t act like one.
- He called three times in a row – Every girl needs to be pursued, but fucking play it cool guys. I straight up run from clingyness.
- Gut instinct – Your intuition is your best friend. 100% of the time I’ve had an initial “reading” about someone but still have chosen to give them the benefit of the doubt, they always end up proving themselves and my assumptions right.
- He told me that I shouldn’t waste my money on getting my toes done and then proceeded to bitch about money every time we talked – Ehhhhh. If I enjoy getting my feet prettified, I’m gonna fucking get my feet prettified. Aside from the toes though, this one had serious negativity issues with almost everything. RED FLAG.
Now, if I had tried telling any of these men the exact reasons why I no longer wished to date them, I would seem like a cold-hearted bitch. Also probably a little picky. I can guarantee you the guy wouldn’t say, “Gee, Mercedes, I really appreciate you telling me this. I think you bringing to light my shortcomings will help me be a stronger and smarter man in my next relationship.” HARDLY. The last time I tried telling someone why in fact we did not work out, I did it intoxicated. Telling someone they are selfish and arrogant on Christmas Eve probably isn’t the best way to go about getting on the horse of blatant confessionals.
If you’re the ghostee: Enter bashed ego, rumination of all personality traits and analysis of what could have went wrong. I will give the same advice to you little ghostee…stop caring so much. Have the ” next” mentality. The next one is only getting you closer to something that’s worth your time and energy. Whatever the real reason for the dissipation of communication and face-to-face time is really nothing you need to be concerned with. Don’t cry over that spilled milk, just look past it and on to the next. REALLY think about whether or not you really want to know the REAL reason you’ve been left in the dust. You could be sabotaging things, coming off really needy and emotionally immature or you could just straight up smell bad. Whatever the reason, it would probably be safer to ask a friend their take on what you could be doing wrong rather than the almost lover telling you. Then that cuts the ties and you’re not tempted to “prove them wrong” and chase them.
There’s no secret science to this crap. Actions speak volumes. Pay attention to what’s going on. Bottom line: We invest time and energy in the things we want. It goes with anything in life, especially in relationships. So when someone says, “I’ve been soooo busy.”, well, now you know what it means. If General Patraeus found time to cheat, anyone can find time to keep the communication lines open.
I was given sound advice once: “Mercedes, you’re going to get the best out of someone right out of the gate. Pay attention. If something bothers you, listen to your instincts. That shit will only get worse when you’re married. You either accept it and make a decision to love them regardless, or you walk. Life is too damn short.” She was right. Most everyone puts on their best performance early on. It’s all downhill from there. Which is why I’m a HUGE advocate of being exactly who you are upfront. It separates the weak from the strong and everyone wastes less time.
So, whether you’re faced with having to pull out of something that you’re just not feeling or you’re on the receiving end of someone pulling out on you, (haaa) well, we’re all too fucking badass to care, right? If only we could all be crazy confident in ourselves 24/7…But, we ARE human and have this little thing called an ego. We should probably check it once in a while though and realize the importance of fade outs. Whether it’s being done to us, or we’re doing it to someone else, they are very telling indicator that we probably should be “too busy” loving ourselves and our life to worry about why someone doesn’t want to invest time in us anymore. But if we have to be the bad guy, feel guilty for a few seconds but then put your faith and trust in that other person being strong enough to realize you weren’t right for each other anyways.
And if you are indeed the bad guy that could start a haunted house with all that ghost action, it could have nothing to do with your high standards, it could be because you are in fact just an asshole, but we’ll discuss that in a later post. 😉
“They’re dudes. If they have no interest in fucking you, of course they aren’t going to invest in words. Goes against being a man.” – Me
Response to a friend when she asked why certain men her life were quiet and kept giving her one word responses.
You’re welcome KH. 🙂