Monday, May 10, 2010

Don't Mess with Text-Ass

So here's the thing, I'm a klutz. A HUGE klutz. I am that horribly uncoordinated girl to which a football or a frisbee anywhere within the vicinity will always make contact with my face. My tendencies to publicly humiliate myself has not decreased whatsoever over time but evolved. Of course, all the aspects in which I have bumbled my way through existence would also include my dating life. To make a long story short, my time in the New York City "dating pool" has been until now relatively disastrous and mortifying. Over 4 years later and I'm not sure you can refer to it as a dating pool, it's more like a "shark tank", there is only casual sex or intense monogamy in New York. Although I have grown out of being rejected via a note taped to my locker, this high tech digital age has allowed for much more immediate means by which to "handle your scandal". Maybe it's just my slightly delusional yet heavily narcissistic nature but I have happily convinced myself that my clumsiness as well as various other faults are a defense mechanism to ward off horrible men.

Case in point.... 6 months after a heinous break up with what can only be referred to as the Hindenburg disaster of all relationships (topic to be reserved for a completely different blog). I found myself feeling as if my only shot at a normal, stable, functional life would be to dip my toe in the shark tank but only seek men that had absolutely no similarities in characteristics as my previous foray...(translation, rebound) and the "perfect storm" of disappointment. Feeling already that I don't give the "average Joe" a fair chance, I allowed myself to be set up on a date with a compulsive "texter"...(translation, man who is self conscious about how stupid he sounds when he talks, so he texts ALL the time). At first Tex as I will refer to him was great, awesome sense of humor, interesting occupation and prone to excessive compliments. I thought he was REALLY different and exciting, which meant that I needed to overlook the fact that he was too short, not so eloquent in his manners and worst of all a compulsive texter. EVERYTHING was a text from meeting plans to sweet nothings.

Ladies, no matter how vulnerable you feel and how fantastic he seems don't compromise for a man who's chosen form of communication was pioneered by a 13 year old girl. True to form for me our differences came to light in the most mortifying of circumstances. I was invited to dinner with his "married couple" his #1 guy friend and his wife both flew in from Texas to have dinner and to meet yours truly. I guess I was a little nervous and played the saboteur by polishing off a bottle of wine at dinner, needless to say by the time we were having our nightcap, I was trashed. Later that evening, after everyone went to bed for the night I must have decided to get a little frisky first, then drunkingly argumentative with Tex. I recall very few details but much to my chagrin, the next morning I managed to recount with extreme clarity the most horrifying points of that evening. I put on a robe and went to the bathroom to collect myself after getting into a short verbal tiff with Tex, at that moment I was determined to march in guns blazing and tell him that I was done with his evasive little texting games. It was pitch dark, I stumbled down the hall, marched into the bedroom, removed the robe and immediately expressed my which the response was complete silence, "DON'T YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY"!!! I screamed. There was a soft male voice..."uhhhh, I think you are in the wrong bedroom". My hands felt around lightly and my eyes focused enough in the soft darkness to see that there was the silhouette of a man.. and a woman ..and my naked form sitting on the guest bed. whooops!!

Not much was said to Tex early the next morning. The next day, true to form we decided to never speak again and dissolve the entire mishap that was our short lived acquaintance via text. In this case my tendency toward public displays of clumsiness and humility gave me the realization that I never needed to settle for less than perfection. It's o.k. to date someone with the whole sizzling hot package, no matter how shallow that seems. Although this realization was at the cost of traumatizing a strange couple from Texas with my drunken rant and creepy slow sodomizing caress, I would say it was well worth it. Now I am dating again, although Darwin has suggested I enter the institution with some trepidation. The truth is, a great guy will see your stumbling bumbling ways and care for you all the more and when you find him, yesterdays idiotic embarrassing mishaps become doorways to today's fantastic, ecstatic love affairs.

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