Three weeks ago, right at the beginning of this blog experiment, something kind of crazy happened. I met a boy I really liked, and he liked me back. It was insane. And clearly, short lived.
T-bag (as I will call him because I’m feeling neither creative nor affectionate) and I met online as many blossoming relationships do these days and we hit it off immediately. Jokes! We both had them. He worked in finance and does stand up, and myself, well I love douchbags and think I’m hysterical, so it was a match made in OkCupid heaven. We exchanged emails, wrote back and forth a few times, and decided to go on a real date.
And it was a real date. We went out to dinner and then saw a show. It was probably the most real date I’ve been on in my 24 years. We had so much fun, we talked for hours, played buck hunter, some other dude hit on me in front of him, it was perfect! We made out and he was totally a good kisser. This, I thought, could actually be going somewhere. As Aretha Franklin told me, it’s in his kiss.
We went out a few more times, real dates! And then he came to my birthday party after telling me he wasn’t sure if he could make it. He was actually at the bar waiting for me when I showed up with a huge shit-eating grin on his face. T-bag was so into me, all my friends could tell. They all congratulated me for dating a non-douchebag. I was either on, or somewhere near, cloud 9.
In this weird state of euphoria I decided to do something for him that I never do. Ever. I invited T-bag over for a huge brunch extravaganza that included spinach Gruyere crepes, roasted potatoes and blood orange mimosas. I even baked cookies with Mandy the night before. I stood in my kitchen and thought…this shit just got real.
It was his idea to have a “day-date,” and we’re both so busy that I didn’t really think anything of it, although perhaps that should have been my first sign. The second sign should have been that he didn’t show interest in taking any article of my clothing off. But he’s not a douchebag, and he likes me, and is interested in more than my fantastic, fantastic breasts. I thought the date went spectacularly. We talked about hanging out more during the week and how close my work is to his so we could even maybe meet up for lunch some times.
A couple of days pass and I don’t hear anything from him, but it’s not unusual because neither of us has the unreasonable expectation of immediate responses or daily communications, so I shoot him a quick email about grabbing dinner at some point during the week. He calls me that night, again nothing abnormal until he says, I need to tell you about something.
Oh fuck. I know what that means. I’ve been around this block plenty of times.
You see, T-bag had this ex girlfriend and they broke up a while ago, how long ago I’m unsure, but he randomly ran into her at a party last week. And wow, then randomly again, they ran into each a second time. Funny how that happens. And they had a long talk and they are going to try real hard to work things out between them because they were together for a long time, or something. And he is really, really sorry, I am an amazing girl and he had so much fun with me, and he has been on the receiving end of this so many times, so you see, he knows how it feels. But he really, really wants to be friends with me and maybe buy me a burrito some time.
Yes, he said a burrito.
And I said, "Well, T-bag, thank you for telling me, I understand. I hope everything works out for you. Maybe we will get a burrito some time, but I need to go, it’s late."
And thus ended my only some-what successful attempt at dating in ny (thus far), with a guy who would rather be in a complicated mess with an ex girlfriend and provide me, the described awesome girl he had so much fun with, the offer of a burrito.
I suppose it is time to try again. Hopefully next time my consolation prize will be upgraded to a veggie burger. I think if I work hard enough, and get enough couples back together, I can get probably get at least a few McDonalds gift cards.