My "Razor Tongue"

 Jake was full of compliments.  My favorite?  He told me Katy Perry’s song “Teenage Dream” reminded him of me because I’m a “stacked, raven hair vixen,” like her.  I think this is one of my most favorite compliments ever!  Sometimes, compliments just aren’t enough. 

Jake is the most recent and last guy I “dated.”  I’ll admit it, I met Jake online.  I’ve always been hesitant of dating online, simply because I meet enough weirdos and creepers on a daily basis…in person.  Why in the world should I log onto a website and have my picture up for even more weirdos and creepers to see?  Well, I did it anyway.  I know a few people who have found success with online dating and I decided to give it a try.  An added motive:  Shawn and I had just broken up a month or so before, I thought it’d be fun to meet as many new guys as possible and I’d get over him by seeing there are so many better guys out there.

Well, I was kidding myself.  I signed up for OkCupid, made an extremely thoughtful profile, and made sure all my spelling was correct and I used proper grammar (come on, this is one of the top 5 things I look at in your profile, you need to make a good impression!).  I then turned off my computer and nervously went to bed.  Why was I nervous?  What if I woke up in the morning to a big, fat ZERO messages?  And would it be my fault if I had no messages?  Maybe I wasn’t funny, maybe I didn’t choose the right pictures, maybe I seemed dull and stupid, or maybe I should have sent a few guys messages.  Nahh, I am a totally traditional girl.  A guy should approach me (here’s where all my guy readers groan and say it’s not fair.  I don’t  feel bad for you, women have to deal with other things that you don’t!).  Or at least a guy should smile at me or something.  I’m not just going to walk up to a guy in a bar and strike up a conversation.  Why?

1.   I’ll probably look like a slut.

2.   If I had enough courage to do this, it’s probably a joke/dare and I’m not actually interested.

3.   If I was genuinely interested, and had the courage to do this, I’d probably be pretty drunk, in which case you and your friends will laugh at me and make fun of me as soon as I leave.

4.   I think it’s really hot/sexy/manly if a guy approaches a girl in the bar (sans cheesy or creepy pick up line, of course).  Maybe I’ve seen too many chick flicks, but Hollywood has put that idea in my head and given me a definition of what is romantic (I know, I don’t necessarily think it was nice of Hollywood to do this to young women, but it happened and now we all have to suffer the consequences).

5.   I’m probably with friends (I don’t tend to drink alone, unless I’m traveling in another country alone).  I hate flirting with friends around.  Especially girl friends.  Especially drunk girl friends.  Most girls I know have a tendency to give you that goofy smile and make a high-pitched, “OOOOOOOOO!” noise when you’re finished talking to a guy.  I would like to bypass this experience whenever possible.  Please and thank you.

Anyway, I nixed the idea of sending any first messages.  I woke up the next morning, surprised and happy!  I had 17 new messages!  I read the messages, looked at some profiles, I replied to zero of them.  I went to work, came home nine hours later, 12 new messages!  I replied to one of them.  He replied, using excessively poor grammar, but he seemed sweet so I gave him a try.  Then he asked me what my favorite position was.  Next.  The next few days went the same way.  I found myself online, with these attractive guys messaging me the most stupid things I could imagine.  Sorry, but you’re probably not hot enough to say such stupid things.  I got pretty pissed at how much time I was spending on this online dating thing, it felt like a part time job and I don’t care about having a boyfriend enough to devote so much time to searching for one.

Then, I was getting ready to leave for Vegas.  A few days before I received a message from Jake.  He seemed funny, his profile made him seem really smart, and he was a few years older (score!  I like guys that are a little more mature than drink-til-you-puke).  He was really cute.  I replied to his message, he replied again, and we kept this going.  I gave him my phone number and said I was leaving for Vegas in a few days.  He sent me a text before leaving and I sent him one again when I got back (after all, Vegas was not about talking to some guy I just met online back home).

Let’s cut to the chase.  I came home, we texted, called, and met.  The first date went really well, we made out for an eternity after, went home, and I was really excited that I met such a nice guy.  We went out again, and again, and again.  We were talking pretty frequently.  I patiently waited for him to make a move.  Each new date I thought he’d finally make things official.  Here’s me waiting for the guy.  Again.

Hold it right there!  Why should I wait?  OK, let’s try something new, I’ll put myself out there.

We were texting one night (primary form of communication) and a guy friend told me to ask Jake if we were exclusive or not.  I felt completely stupid doing this, but I did so anyway.  We had been texting for almost an hour, I asked, no reply.  Shit.  Now I want to barf.  I couldn’t just leave it alone.  I couldn’t just be myself and wait it out.  I had to be like every other clingy/needy girl on the planet.  Except, I wasn’t really trying to be clingy or needy, I had another guy interested in going on a date and I wanted to know where I stood with Jake.  Three hours later, still no reply.  The next day.  No reply.  But Shawn called and wanted to know if I’d be interested in dating again.  I entertained this idea for two more days, when Jake finally replied.  He said that he didn’t mean to put me on the “back burner” but he had a ton of homework to finish up (he was in his last semester at school and had taken a few years off and done study abroad).  Right.  So you wait til I ask something remotely important to put me on the back burner?  What happened to saying something like, “Sorry, I can’t talk about this right now.”  I’d understand that! 

Well, he said he wasn’t seeing anyone else, I confirmed I wasn’t either (assuming this would lead into a real relationship) and we resumed life as usual, seeing each other a little more frequently.  I dealt with this for eight months.  I was his half-ass, part-time girlfriend, except without that actual title.  One day, he asked what I was going to do and I said, “Well, to be honest, I met a guy last night and I think I’m going to go out with him tonight. If that affects anything that we’re doing here, let me know.”  He said, “Well, of course I don’t like you seeing someone else, but we’re not officially in a relationship so I can’t really be mad about it.”  Yeah, true, but you can be mad at yourself.  I never had the guts to go through with the date.  I magically felt like I’d be cheating on someone that wasn’t actually my boyfriend.  Figure that one out.

Wait a second, am I being manipulated here?  This can’t do.  We had a few conversations about it, and now we don’t talk anymore.  I don’t want to get played.  I could have been doing so many better things with my time.  And yes, Jake, if you’re reading this you’ll know who you are even with the name change.  The eight months was a waste of time, even if you say in your mind it wasn’t a waste.  I don’t care about how much fun we had when we were together, because each and every time you would tell me we’d be in a real relationship soon.  It never happened.

But what about those fights?  What about the fact that I “have a razor tongue and say harsh things with little to no remorse”?  Well, that girl was wearing some seriously ugly shoes.  I honestly feel those shoes should have never been manufactured, and they made her calves look huge.  When I say, “Stop being such an idiot!” and laugh, I’m joking, not actually calling you an idiot.  You’ve seen me do this with friends.  When your friend looks like a drunk, sloppy slut, I think it’s your duty to tell her she looks like a drunk, sloppy slut.  Choose your own words, but it’s all the same idea, you’re preventing her from making a bigger fool out of herself.  My friends and I tease and make fun of each other all the time, if you couldn’t handle that type of interaction, you should have cut it off a long time ago.

Ah, and this was another distance thing.  Once again, he lived an hour away.  He didn’t want to call or text on a daily basis, I’m fine with that.  Once he started working he needed his “alone” time and sometimes he works late and after making dinner only has an hour to relax.  Blah blah blah.  Welcome to the real world, buddy.  I’m sorry you can’t budget your time more efficiently.  While I don’t consider a simple “How’s your day going?” text an invasion of personal space, I understand that you do.  However, if you’re going to ignore me for four or more days and claim it’s you needing personal space, a heads up would be nice.  Oh, and you having a problem with the distance still doesn’t make sense.  You need your alone time, so why would you want to physically see me more than once per week?  You have faulty logic.  But you don’t seem to understand that.  Or, you understand that’s how I see it and say, “We think differently about things.”

Which brings me to my next point.  If you say one more time that we have “fundamental differences” and “function very differently” I’ll go insane.  That was obvious from the beginning, but it didn’t bother you then.  And to set the record straight, I actually found this conversation funny:

Me:   So, why did you even join a dating site if you don’t actually want a girlfriend?
You:   It’s not a dating site.
Me:   How is OkCupid not a dating site?
You:   It’s more like Facebook, it’s just another social networking site.
Me:   Yeah, but I just went to the home page and it says, “Join the best dating site on Earth.”
You:  Whatever, Emma, I was using it more like Facebook.
Me:   Well, you have a Facebook already, so why didn’t you just use Facebook like Facebook?
You:   Fine, you’re right.
Me:   OK, that was a legit question, but fine, I’ll drop it.

I hope you find a girl that will play your games and never challenge you, because you don’t seem to like a life that’s remotely challenging.  Good luck.  Thanks for the compliments, I now look in the mirror and call myself a stacked, raven-hair vixen before I go out.  I also consider having a razor tongue a good quality.  So...I’m over it.    

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