Choose Your Own Adventure

31 Aug

“Richard” and I went out on several dates over the course of a few months, despite his tendency to cancel on me the day before and need to reschedule.  I actually thought I might like him for a day and a half, then realized it was a false alarm.  He was tall, large-handed, and bilingual (pluses), but was unorganized, wore shoes with toe-slots, and wasn’t the most witty shark in the sea (minuses).  Adding to my ambivalence, he went out of his way to inform me that he “really enjoys being single.”  As if the disclaimer was necessary, because I was really looking forward to capturing him in my net and forcing him to be my husband.

The last time we saw each other was a couple months ago.  Naturally, Richard had canceled on me earlier in the week and rescheduled for that evening.  We got drinks at a couple different bars, then went back to his apartment.  I had been there once before and almost didn’t make it out alive– that’s how disheveled it was.  I will now continue the story in the form of a Choose Your Own Adventure.

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Once inside his apartment, he digs around in some cluttered piles, searching for a tax document for his business.  When he finds what he’s looking for, he exclaims something about loving being his own boss, then escorts you into his bedroom and shuts the door.  You sit down next to each other at the foot of the bed and it is then that you notice a sizable wad of tissue protruding from his right nostril.  Do you:

A. Tell him he has something major in his nose.  He extracts it and you both laugh, then begin to make out.  You spend the night and leave the next morning for work.  Please proceed to the letter D below.

B. From your seated position, you bounce up and down on the bed a bit, hoping the momentum will dislodge the tissue wad from his nostril.  It works!  The wad tumbles to the ground.  You begin to make out, spend the night, and leave the next morning for work.  Please proceed to E.

C. You bounce up and down on the bed, hoping the tissue will shake loose from his nostril… but it stays put.  You sit in silence next to him and nobody moves for several minutes.  He rubs his nose and the tissue wad vacates his nostril at last.  You systematically remove all of your clothing, piling each item atop his guitar case so as not to lose them in the sea on the floor.  You then lay down on the bed and instantaneously fall asleep.  A few hours later, you awake with a start.  It is 4am.  You leap up, throw on your clothes and tell him to call you a car because you have to go home.  You make it back to Brooklyn and eat a bowl of leftover pasta with some kind of horrid black olive sauce.  The next day at work you are exhausted and can’t rid yourself of the nauseating after-taste of black olives.  Please proceed to F.

 

D. You and Richard make plans to hang out a week or so later.  He again cancels on you the day before because he forgot he has a conference call for work.  He says you can accompany him to a concert that weekend “if you want.”  When you tell him you already have plans that day, he replies “we’ll talk.”  You take his multiple cancelations as a sign of disinterest and delete his number out of your phone.  Proceed to G.

E. You make plans to hang out a week or so later.  He cancels on you the day before because of a conference call at work and doesn’t reschedule.  You text him back saying “Haha is this your way of blowing me off gently?”  He writes back “I’m not seventeen.  I happen to run my own business and I have a conference call tomorrow then am going out of town.”  You don’t respond and add him to the Do Not Text List.  Proceed to H.

F. You make plans a week later and he cancels the day before.  You acknowledge his disinterest and say “Haha is this your way of blowing me off gently?”  He responds with “I’m not seventeen.  I run my own business, (etc).”  You text back “No prob, bro.”  Proceed to I.

 

G. You are proud of yourself for dismissing Richard after his condescending text.  He texts you again a week later, but you don’t respond.  Proceed to J.

H. He texts you a week later “How have you been doing?” like you’re recovering from Mono or something.  You will both be out of town the next week, but he suggests you should get together when you’re back to “catch up.”  A couple weeks later, you contact him and reluctantly make plans.  The day before you are supposed to hang out, you receive a text from him saying he has to cancel again.  You wonder if he’s playing a joke on you.  No one double-books THAT many times with the same person unless they don’t have any respect for them whatsoever, or they’re impaired.  He asks if you can reschedule, but this time you say no.  Proceed to K.

I. He texts you a week later and suggests you get together when you’re back in town to “catch up.”  The day before you had planned to hang out, he cancels again.  He asks if you can reschedule and you reluctantly agree– despite the fact that all of your co-workers advise you to tell him off and never speak to him again.  You meet in Nolita and discover that the restaurant he had selected for dinner is closed that night.  You instead get tacos from some brightly-lit taco truck joint before heading to a bar.  After a few beers, you call him out for being terrible at making plans and wonder how someone can successfully run a business when they double-book so often.  He admits he’s kind of an asshole, and looks a little too pleased with himself when he says so.  You end the evening on amicable terms and head back to Brooklyn alone.  Proceed to L.

 

J. You win the gold medal for self-respect!  Three strikes you’re out, buddy.

K. You win the silver medal for self-respect.  Learn to recognize when enough is enough and quit giving guys so many chances!  Especially if you met them on the internet.

L. You win the bronze medal for self-respect.  Although you rescheduled with him again, you didn’t go back to his place this time.  That is a step in the right direction.

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Everyone wins a medal in this story because it was never that earth-shattering of a “relationship” to begin with.  There are, however, lessons to be learned here.  The first being that I inherently give everyone the benefit of the doubt and therefore grant way more chances than most people would even consider.  I’m fairly certain this has given several guys the impression that they can walk all over me (remember The Lying Lumberjack?).  After the second or third cancelation, it’s probably time to call it quits.  Sticking it out through the fourth, fifth, and even sixth cancelation only makes me feel like an idiot.  The second lesson learned is: do not under any circumstances eat puttanesca sauce when you’re drunk.  It makes for a rude tomorrow.  The third lesson is a reinforcement of what my Grandma always taught me:  It’s not always about size… it’s how you use what you got!

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