Next on the list is Scottish Carl. I met Carl on a dating site: my first mistake. Although I can't say too much about it because I've made that mistake a few times since.
Carl seemed like the perfect guy for me, a total nerd, working on his degree in Special Education. He was a volunteer firefighter, worked full-time to put himself through school and enjoyed a lot of the same hobbies that I did.
Carl wasn't cute, he wasn't really even good-looking, but he was nice and he seemed safe and that was good enough for me. We talked for a long time before we ever met. Our first date was to see the movie Beowulf. It was a decent date, no sparks and occasionally awkward, but you can't have everything right? I decided that it was definitely worth a second date.
He calls me the next day to ask me to dinner. He talks the entire time using a terrible Scottish accent and he gives this reasoning:
"My family is very Scottish, I do a wonderful accent don't I? You can't tell I'm not from Scotland. I can do a lot of accents really well, I'll do a different one each time I call you, okay? One thing you should know about us Scotsmen: we'll never lie. I'm very honest and open. I love you."
After I finally got him off the phone I sat down with my checkbook and wrote him a check for $8.50; the price of my movie admission ticket. I mailed it to him the next day.
I really don't want to owe anyone that delusional anything.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Real World Dating - Jorge
I suppose I shouldn't call Jorge a date, as I never actually went on one with him. However, he did constantly ask me out, eat with me whenever possible and gave me oddly phrased compliments.
After I graduated from college I went to work selling useless crap door to door. After two weeks I quit in disgust. I started working at a super fancy hotel as the night bell(wo)man. It was pretty quiet most nights and I spent them making up couch beds for drunken heiresses who came to party, shining shoes, picking up breakfast orders, shining our brass baggage carts and helping the night clerk look for motorcycle parts on Craigslist.
I also spent a lot of time chatting with the Mexican cleaning staff. We took turns helping each other with Spanish/English. One of them - Jorge was a super sweet 40 year old who was always eager to help. At first I thought he was being nice, but after he told me, "You're pretty for a chubby girl. You should already have a man and not have to work here, but stay home and have babies." I knew it was a bit more than that.
Jorge would always sit with me during "lunch" at 1 in the morning and chat about his work visa and how I was "too pretty to work." Me being all of 22 and fresh out of college I was not crazy about the idea of marrying a middle-aged man so he could get a green card. No matter how many times he asked me out or talked about our babies.
I started eating lunch in the bellhop closet. It smelled like shoe-polish and cleaning supplies, but I could listen to the Cardinal's games in peace.
After I graduated from college I went to work selling useless crap door to door. After two weeks I quit in disgust. I started working at a super fancy hotel as the night bell(wo)man. It was pretty quiet most nights and I spent them making up couch beds for drunken heiresses who came to party, shining shoes, picking up breakfast orders, shining our brass baggage carts and helping the night clerk look for motorcycle parts on Craigslist.
I also spent a lot of time chatting with the Mexican cleaning staff. We took turns helping each other with Spanish/English. One of them - Jorge was a super sweet 40 year old who was always eager to help. At first I thought he was being nice, but after he told me, "You're pretty for a chubby girl. You should already have a man and not have to work here, but stay home and have babies." I knew it was a bit more than that.
Jorge would always sit with me during "lunch" at 1 in the morning and chat about his work visa and how I was "too pretty to work." Me being all of 22 and fresh out of college I was not crazy about the idea of marrying a middle-aged man so he could get a green card. No matter how many times he asked me out or talked about our babies.
I started eating lunch in the bellhop closet. It smelled like shoe-polish and cleaning supplies, but I could listen to the Cardinal's games in peace.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Gary Allen - Not the Singer
My next traumatizing collegiate dating experience was with Gary Allen. Gary was hot, I'm talking red hot. So hot that he turned me into a gibbering pile of goo with one look.
I met Gary while I was doing a bake sale for my honor society. Gary was at the next table in full army dress and was busy handing out pamphlets, trying to get college kids to sign their lives away, and being hot - mainly being hot. He was there with a Marine and an Air Force recruiter. I was there with fellow honor society member Anika.
Anika is/was completely beautiful. Gary kept staring at our table. I kept avoiding eye contact and figured he was interested in Anika. I'm cute in a dorky, girl-next-door kind of way, but in no reality was I on Gary's level. Gary comes over to talk to us. We talk for a good 10 minutes.
Apparently we were flirting, I thought I was just being friendly, but I get those two things mixed up a lot.
He walks away to talk to his armed forces buddies. Anika tells me that he's totally in love with me and I need to have his babies. I agree.
He comes back over and talks for another 20 minutes or so and asks for my number. I'm shocked. We go out a few times, but more often than not we hang out in the bedroom of the townhouse I share with 3 other girls.
He always comes straight over after work, always dressed in fatigues and always undeniably good-looking. I begin to notice not so little things though. Like he makes severely inappropriate and sexist comments about women constantly. I was a Woman's Studies minor at the time so that's always a bad move. I let it slide because he's cute.
I notice the imprint of a ring on his left hand. I ignore it because he's cute. One night he comes over with the ring on. I ask him about it.
Him: "I'm not married if that's what your asking, but if I was would it matter?"
Me: Um, yes it would matter, I would never date someone who was married. I couldn't hurt another woman like that knowingly.
Him: Well I'm not married, but obviously if someone is unhappy enough to cheat things aren't working so it's not like it's a real marriage. Would you really stop seeing me?
Me: Yes, of course I would. There is no excuse.
The conversation ended there because we started making out. Yes, I'm a terrible person, yes I was extremely stupid. But I'm telling you, he was just soooo good looking, and the high that I got from someone that hot being attracted to me made my head swim.
I saw him once after that it very, very far from pleasant.
So Gary Allen wherever you are please go DIAF. As for me I've been doing penance for my vanity for two and a half years now. The karma police totally got me.
I met Gary while I was doing a bake sale for my honor society. Gary was at the next table in full army dress and was busy handing out pamphlets, trying to get college kids to sign their lives away, and being hot - mainly being hot. He was there with a Marine and an Air Force recruiter. I was there with fellow honor society member Anika.
Anika is/was completely beautiful. Gary kept staring at our table. I kept avoiding eye contact and figured he was interested in Anika. I'm cute in a dorky, girl-next-door kind of way, but in no reality was I on Gary's level. Gary comes over to talk to us. We talk for a good 10 minutes.
Apparently we were flirting, I thought I was just being friendly, but I get those two things mixed up a lot.
He walks away to talk to his armed forces buddies. Anika tells me that he's totally in love with me and I need to have his babies. I agree.
He comes back over and talks for another 20 minutes or so and asks for my number. I'm shocked. We go out a few times, but more often than not we hang out in the bedroom of the townhouse I share with 3 other girls.
He always comes straight over after work, always dressed in fatigues and always undeniably good-looking. I begin to notice not so little things though. Like he makes severely inappropriate and sexist comments about women constantly. I was a Woman's Studies minor at the time so that's always a bad move. I let it slide because he's cute.
I notice the imprint of a ring on his left hand. I ignore it because he's cute. One night he comes over with the ring on. I ask him about it.
Him: "I'm not married if that's what your asking, but if I was would it matter?"
Me: Um, yes it would matter, I would never date someone who was married. I couldn't hurt another woman like that knowingly.
Him: Well I'm not married, but obviously if someone is unhappy enough to cheat things aren't working so it's not like it's a real marriage. Would you really stop seeing me?
Me: Yes, of course I would. There is no excuse.
The conversation ended there because we started making out. Yes, I'm a terrible person, yes I was extremely stupid. But I'm telling you, he was just soooo good looking, and the high that I got from someone that hot being attracted to me made my head swim.
I saw him once after that it very, very far from pleasant.
So Gary Allen wherever you are please go DIAF. As for me I've been doing penance for my vanity for two and a half years now. The karma police totally got me.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Creepy Dan
To continue on with my horrendous dating history I give you Dan.
Dan is a nice guy, a complete dork, but that kind of turns me on. What can I say, I'm easy. I met Dan in the basement of our Public Administration building. Dan drops his books. I help pick them up.
Are we seeing a pattern here folks? Callie sees someone who needs help, Callie helps, Callie gets trapped into an awkward conversation and an unwanted date.
I give Dan my number, he seems normal. He calls me that night, we meet in the outside picnic area on campus. He pulls out his wallet and proceeds to show me pictures of his 12 cats. They are all professionally done.
I get out of that situation as quickly as I can. I avoid Dan's calls. (As you can see I'm AWESOME and confronting any type of situation head on) Dan stops calling. I feel relief.
I'm working at the dorm cafe one night and a co-worker (Emily for clarity's sake) comes to the back storeroom and tells me someone wants to see me. I go out.
There is Dan - with more pictures of his cats. I like cats, I really do. In fact I have two. I do not like cats enough to have professional portraits done of them and then carry them around with me. I give Dan an awkward smile and tell him they are wonderful.
Emily tells Dan that he's creepy and weird and he needs to leave, especially as he shouldn't have been able to get into our card-swipe in only dormitory.
Dan leaves. I hug Emily.
Dan is a nice guy, a complete dork, but that kind of turns me on. What can I say, I'm easy. I met Dan in the basement of our Public Administration building. Dan drops his books. I help pick them up.
Are we seeing a pattern here folks? Callie sees someone who needs help, Callie helps, Callie gets trapped into an awkward conversation and an unwanted date.
I give Dan my number, he seems normal. He calls me that night, we meet in the outside picnic area on campus. He pulls out his wallet and proceeds to show me pictures of his 12 cats. They are all professionally done.
I get out of that situation as quickly as I can. I avoid Dan's calls. (As you can see I'm AWESOME and confronting any type of situation head on) Dan stops calling. I feel relief.
I'm working at the dorm cafe one night and a co-worker (Emily for clarity's sake) comes to the back storeroom and tells me someone wants to see me. I go out.
There is Dan - with more pictures of his cats. I like cats, I really do. In fact I have two. I do not like cats enough to have professional portraits done of them and then carry them around with me. I give Dan an awkward smile and tell him they are wonderful.
Emily tells Dan that he's creepy and weird and he needs to leave, especially as he shouldn't have been able to get into our card-swipe in only dormitory.
Dan leaves. I hug Emily.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Scary Mike
My past has been full of interesting characters. The most interesting, complex, and terrifying have been my dates. Especially in college. My roommate Dani and I would give nick-names to all of my dates as soon as I got home from them. She always got the play by play.
Scary Mike was my first experiment in college dating. I met him as I was walking from the cafeteria. He had a huge full beard, long biker hair, and was built like an alcoholic, over-the-hill linebacker. He was walking to the tin buildings across campus for an art class. He had three huge canvases (canvi?) and the wind was blowing hard. One flew out of his hand and I went to catch it.
The picture was a watercolor with a flaming scull and naked women.
I still walked with him to class carrying the picture for him. He asked me for my number and I actually gave him the real one. This was before I found that hot line number that gives the guy the brush off for you and then lists different suicide options.
He called the next day and we had lunch a few days later. He was still scary so I decided to avoid him until he lost interest. He called me twice a day for two weeks and one day I saw him in the bushes of my dorm watching me walk to class.
The next night I was walking back to the dorm alone from dinner with some friends and I see Mike. I grab a campus newspaper and try to hide my face. It doesn't work as it's almost impossible to pretend to read a newspaper while walking down a curvy sidewalk. Plus, walking down said sidewalk with an enormous newspaper does tend to attract attention.
He sees me and asks how I am, why I haven't called and proceeds to go into detail about the horrible things that have happened to him since we last spoke. I feel terrible for him and agree to go for a walk.
I know what you're all thinking: RUN CALLIE, RUN LIKE THE WIND.
We went for a walk, down to the dark unlit pond. We sit under the willow tree on a picnic bench. We talk. He starts molesting my ear.
I'm not even kidding. It's traumatizing. He devours the thing and I'm just sitting there not moving at all. My brain is screaming at me to get up, to tell him to stop slathering my ear with spit. Finally I tell him to stop. He does. We talk some more. He molests my ear again.
My ear must be extremely beautiful because that seemed to be all he was interested in thank God.
I finally tell him that I need to get home because Dani is probably locked out of the room as she NEVER carried a key. He protests and slobbers on my ear some more. I get up, we walk back. We walk through the theatre hall, past the long lines of people waiting to enter Dora the Explorer LIVE. He tries to hold my hand, I pretend that I like children and do the "aw how cute hand movement" to keep from getting trapped by his greasy palm.
We get to my dorm, I run inside and straight into an extremely angry Dani, who has indeed been locked out of our room.
I tell her the story. She makes me call him immediately and tell him that I'm getting back together with an imaginary boyfriend and to never call me again.
I see him occasionally on campus in the bushes but he never says anything.
A few days later a weird rash shows up on my ear and down my neck.
He gave me ring-worm. It took 4 months for it to clear up.
Scary Mike was my first experiment in college dating. I met him as I was walking from the cafeteria. He had a huge full beard, long biker hair, and was built like an alcoholic, over-the-hill linebacker. He was walking to the tin buildings across campus for an art class. He had three huge canvases (canvi?) and the wind was blowing hard. One flew out of his hand and I went to catch it.
The picture was a watercolor with a flaming scull and naked women.
I still walked with him to class carrying the picture for him. He asked me for my number and I actually gave him the real one. This was before I found that hot line number that gives the guy the brush off for you and then lists different suicide options.
He called the next day and we had lunch a few days later. He was still scary so I decided to avoid him until he lost interest. He called me twice a day for two weeks and one day I saw him in the bushes of my dorm watching me walk to class.
The next night I was walking back to the dorm alone from dinner with some friends and I see Mike. I grab a campus newspaper and try to hide my face. It doesn't work as it's almost impossible to pretend to read a newspaper while walking down a curvy sidewalk. Plus, walking down said sidewalk with an enormous newspaper does tend to attract attention.
He sees me and asks how I am, why I haven't called and proceeds to go into detail about the horrible things that have happened to him since we last spoke. I feel terrible for him and agree to go for a walk.
I know what you're all thinking: RUN CALLIE, RUN LIKE THE WIND.
We went for a walk, down to the dark unlit pond. We sit under the willow tree on a picnic bench. We talk. He starts molesting my ear.
I'm not even kidding. It's traumatizing. He devours the thing and I'm just sitting there not moving at all. My brain is screaming at me to get up, to tell him to stop slathering my ear with spit. Finally I tell him to stop. He does. We talk some more. He molests my ear again.
My ear must be extremely beautiful because that seemed to be all he was interested in thank God.
I finally tell him that I need to get home because Dani is probably locked out of the room as she NEVER carried a key. He protests and slobbers on my ear some more. I get up, we walk back. We walk through the theatre hall, past the long lines of people waiting to enter Dora the Explorer LIVE. He tries to hold my hand, I pretend that I like children and do the "aw how cute hand movement" to keep from getting trapped by his greasy palm.
We get to my dorm, I run inside and straight into an extremely angry Dani, who has indeed been locked out of our room.
I tell her the story. She makes me call him immediately and tell him that I'm getting back together with an imaginary boyfriend and to never call me again.
I see him occasionally on campus in the bushes but he never says anything.
A few days later a weird rash shows up on my ear and down my neck.
He gave me ring-worm. It took 4 months for it to clear up.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Office Contests
I won an office contest last week. Everyone turned in pictures of themselves from 1984. Then these pictures were circulated and we had to guess who was who.
I was born in 1985 so I felt left out. I offered to give them a picture of a spermatozoa but the contest coordinator felt that the picture would be inappropriate.
They did let me make guesses though and I have to say I totally kicked ass. There were only five people who got them all right. They drew names for the prizes and I got a Rubik cube.
I hate Rubik cubes. I've never even come close to completing one and I've never had any desire to really try. I did, however, decide to display it on my desk space with pride.
Someone has been messing with my Rubik cube.
They keep mixing the colors! The colors need to match.
I don't even want to imagine the carnage that will await me when I get back from vacation next Monday. Blue, green, white, yellow, red, orange, mixed together all willy-nilly.
What if they start messing with Louie the Lightning Bug! Oh the humanity! These people obviously have no moral compass.
I was born in 1985 so I felt left out. I offered to give them a picture of a spermatozoa but the contest coordinator felt that the picture would be inappropriate.
They did let me make guesses though and I have to say I totally kicked ass. There were only five people who got them all right. They drew names for the prizes and I got a Rubik cube.
I hate Rubik cubes. I've never even come close to completing one and I've never had any desire to really try. I did, however, decide to display it on my desk space with pride.
Someone has been messing with my Rubik cube.
They keep mixing the colors! The colors need to match.
I don't even want to imagine the carnage that will await me when I get back from vacation next Monday. Blue, green, white, yellow, red, orange, mixed together all willy-nilly.
What if they start messing with Louie the Lightning Bug! Oh the humanity! These people obviously have no moral compass.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Brain Wracking
So I've been trying my hardest to think of ANYTHING to write about because I know me. If I stop for more than a week I just won't start up again. Days will turn into weeks, weeks into months and before long I won't even be able to remember the password for this site.
The trouble is, I can't think of anything to post about. I'm too busy with work to get into any kind of situation, I've got very boring plans every night and the only really exciting thing that happened to me in the last two days was that I got The Sims 3 yesterday.
So, yes. My life and the observations that go with it are too boring to saddle you with.
Maybe I'll think of something tomorrow.
The trouble is, I can't think of anything to post about. I'm too busy with work to get into any kind of situation, I've got very boring plans every night and the only really exciting thing that happened to me in the last two days was that I got The Sims 3 yesterday.
So, yes. My life and the observations that go with it are too boring to saddle you with.
Maybe I'll think of something tomorrow.
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