So my year has been something. It's only February and I already have one of the best stories of the year down. So here it goes.
Last year, in a May haze of boredom and heat, I created an OkCupid account. I know what you're thinking: that's so sad. How could you get so low? Well, to those who say that, I will say that if given the opportunity, and for the right price, I would lick a sidewalk. You know what, I'm sure this will happen sometime this year. I feel like continuing the lush-ness that so defined my 2012 onto 2013. (And yes, this will mean more crazy drunk adventures. Goody, goody gumdrops!)
So I had it for a while. And it was... meh. Nothing really to brag about. The guys were... okay. (And that's me being nice about it.) But after a while, it was the same BS over and over. I mean, how many "hey, how r u?"'s must one take before she chooses to give up on a certain gender? I'd had enough. So I basically gave up on it, until about December.
After months of receiving disturbing messages from old horny-farts, I finally got a message that caught my attention. And this message made my smile. It wasn't the usual, "hi" or "hey sexy!!!" or whatever other messages I got from the many creepers on OkC. It was... nice, and funny, and charming. Plus, he could read and write grammatically correct sentences!!! You have no idea how important that is; especially because the film 'Idiocracy' is becoming true.
So we got to talking. And eventually, or should I say two months later, we finally met.
And I have to be honest, I had no idea what I was thinking.
Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't slept the entire night in a week.
Or maybe it was that work was being a bitch.
Or maybe it was that I had attended two services in less that two weeks.
I don't know what it was, but I pushed for us to meet. And we did. I snuck out of a service (or viewing, if you wanna be completely white about it), and got into his car, without telling anyone. I know! How could I be so stupid as to leave something and randomly getting into the car of someone I've never met? I blame it on the lack of sleep. Lack of sleep gives me the same side effects as drinking... so yeah.
And his car. I feel like I should say something about it. He drives a Volvo station wagon. Yes, there are some things I could say here, but let's skip all that. I, for some reason, thought that he would drive a Prius; and that would make him something of a douchebag. It just would.
Plus, I should also mention that his car looked like his was living out of it? There was a lot of... stuff in the back? Yeah, I'm sticking with "stuff." I believe I even saw one of those boxes that coke cans come in. Yeah. I hope he's not living out of his car and that he's just exceptionally messy.
Well he said his room was "embarrassingly messy", so I wonder what he would call his car.
So yes, I get into his car and we greet each other with "hey"'s. May I just say that at this point, I am unsure of what his name is, and that he has no idea what mine is. And with that, he turned on his car and we went somewhere where would could have privacy.
And this place that we went to. It was right across the street from the mortuary where I was at. This place, it was a hill, and there were a lot of trees there. It was secluded and... I'ma be honest, and I didn't think about this until later, but this was Creepy Rape-y Hill. If he would have wanted to murder me, he could've. If he wanted to make me suffer by watching the True Blood episodes where Eric has amnesia, he could've. And I have to say that I'm so glad that he didn't. Dude, if you're reading this, thank you for not murdering me. Or punishing me by making me watch bad, no scratch that, terrible television.
And the worst part wasn't creepy rape-y hill. It was the two minute or less ride there. It was just so awkward. I was so nervous. He was trying to be nice about it, but I kept mumbling "this is so weird"! Not to mention that he kept trying to make eye contact with me, while I was avoiding eye contact. And the conversation. I was rambling. I mentioned something about me thinking that he would have an accent, and a deeper voice. Yes, I thought these things and said them out loud. In the car. With him.
And he was so nice about it. How nice you ask? Well nice up to the point that he apologized to me for me being disappointed. I mean, what the hell was that about??? I rambled off something about me thinking that because he was from Texas, I'd thought he'd have something of an accent... which is true. As for the being disappointed, I tried to explain (well I wanna give myself the benefit of the doubt and say that I did), that he has a job, and a car, and he can read and write and that already is so impressive, that I couldn't be disappointed. I hope he understood that. OMG, he was such a nice guy. And I was such a bitch.
So we get there. And I'm freaking out. I swear, it was the beginning of a panic attack. I know I have the deer-in-the-headlights look but I can't change my face. He parked the car, turned to me and asked me if I was okay. I was so NOT!!! I didn't wanna make eye contact with him. I rambled something about being weird because I felt like he was staring at me. He explained that he wanted to make eye contact with me, and the turned to face forward. And worst of all, well it makes me feel like such a huge bitch, was that he gave me a way out. And after like 10 seconds, I said yes. So he turned on the car, and we drove back down Creepy Rape-y Hill and went back in front of the mortuary.
As we were driving back, I asked him if he sang. (This question was based on a pic of him from OkC in which he kinda looked like a choir boy. Don't ask.) He started chuckling and answered a no, and mentioned that it was a weird question. Well, buddy, I'm full of them.
At that point, we parked.
Did I mention that there was no music playing in his car? Nope. None. So it was eerily quiet in the Volvo. THE VOLVO. I found that to be so weird. And this is coming from me.
He then turned to me and said something along the lines of "Are you sure you're okay? Do you want water cause I think I have some in the back?". Okay...where do... whatever. Not only did I not need water, I might have wanted it but not needed it, but I didn't wanna know where exactly this water was. Once again, his car looked like it was packed with... "stuff."And more importantly, if something happened to him because of his car, what the hell would I have done? I would've had the panic attack that I was barely keeping at bay and passed out on Cesar Chavez because most likely, his car would've eaten him up.
So we're in his car and he turns to me and says that I look worried, like I need someone to talk to. In my mind I'm going, WTH man!!! Somebody to talk to? Dude, no. This is not turning into a relationship thing, because according to you, you're not looking for one. You said so when we started talking. This is a bootay thing which should mean that you don't ask me if I need someone to talk to. Like what the hell man? No. So I turned to him and I give him this look that I can only hope says 'seriously???', and he looks back at me like he's serious. And his voice sounded so condescending, that I thought he was fucking with me, but the look on his face said otherwise, so I started talking. Mentioning that I was tired. And that he picked me up from a service, which was, of course, something else.
The entire time, he's doing the whole 'guy listening thing', trying to be sympathetic, while sounding slightly condescending (at least to me). It was then that I told him about my job. So far in our 'conversations', I had kept certain details of my life to myself. What can I say? I'm a private person. And I didn't turn to him, but the way he said the next thing he said makes me believe that he gave me the face.
Now let me tell you about the face. There is a certain facial expression that people give me when I tell them where I work. This facial expression bothers me ever so much. It drives me up the wall. It's like people are judging my job, in a non-judgy way; like they're no trying to judge. But they give me that face. And I know that while trying not to judge, they do. And I know they do.
So he's all "oh. wow." or some white guy thing like that. And I don't elaborate, because I sure as hell don't have to. Then he's all, "If you still wanna go to Burger King, I can take you."
And that's how this whole mess started.
I was hungry and I text him for a ride to Burger King in exchange for a sexual favor of some kind. Yes, I'm that type of whore. And no, not all the way. Burger King is not worth THAT. (Please note that Burger King was right down the street, and I was just lazy, and didn't have my wallet on me.)
I told him no, because some time earlier, I was promised a meal. At that point he mentioned something about going out, or to do something, later and then my sister called. FINALLY! I got a get out of the Volvo free card! So I said a quick goodbye and made a speedy exit out of his car and didn't look back. (Actually, I don't even remember if I said goodbye. I hope I did.)
I couldn't look back.
I was too ashamed by what had happened.
No, not him. By the fact that I had something of a panic attack in front of someone who I found charming. And the fact that I was a nervous mess. I wreck of a brunette.
It was just so horrible. And it lasted less than 10 minutes! I know. Yes, I can make shit go from bad to 'Hamlet 2' in less than ten minutes. To be honest, in my mind, I thought that if we'd ever meet, we'd be so comfortable that we would have a shit load of stuff to talk about and if we went there (you know where), that there'd be no problem whatsoever.
But no... It was so awkward, and weird, and we didn't even do anything! I was down for doing something; I don't know what but it was something. And HE DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH ME! I never got to find out if he has deliciously rough hands... which I love ;) And I never did mention that he dressed (or rather dresses) like hipster. WTH is it with me and hipsters? Why is it that I'm attracted to them? Why is it that they're attracted to me? I find this to be one of those questions for the cosmos. So he dresses like a hipster. And he was wearing burgundy corduroy pants. I KNOW! I could write epic haiku's on those pants. They were such a easy joke.
Well I wasn't looking at his pants to judge him on his clothing choices, I was looking for something else, which, by the way, wasn't there, even thought he's all, "I'm in the mood" or whatever. Dude, I saw nothing, which is why I'm calling all that "ambiguous burgundy corduroy".
I was going somewhere with this. I swear I was.
Oh yes.
This whole moment was such a mess.
I don't regret that it happened, because I've been wanting to meet him for the longest. But I do regret that I didn't help the moment by making it so awkward for the both of us.
I also do regret getting into his car without notifying anyone. Talk about STRANGER DANGER. STRANGER DANGER! Not my finest moment... ever.
I just don't know what I was thinking. I wish things would've turned out differently and I would've gotten me some.
But, nope.
I'm me.
I'm unfortunate enough to get picked up a viewings by guys, only to get into their cars, go up to Creepy Rape-y Hill and not do anything because I'm having something of a panic attack. Yup... that's me.
I know. I'm a mess, but I can't help it.
After all, I'm just another crazy ass, unicorn of a brunette.
P.S: Dude, if you're reading this, I hope you don't get offended. I know I was harsh on the pants, but I mean, come on! That stuff is gold. You should be aware of the fact that sometimes, life is way better than movies.
And if you do get offended with this post, well tough shit. I'm not taking it down so... good luck with all that.
And because like half of the title comes from this song:
Urgent by Foreigner