Well, That Sucks

I honestly can't remember the last time I had an actual crush on an actual guy. I've had plenty of celebrity  crushes, sure, but I haven't met a guy in a long time that I really fell for, you know. And, that was something that I was kind of proud of; I felt like... I don't know... like I was safe. I can't explain it. If I don't crush on some guy, I can't break my own heart because he doesn't know I exist.

Anyway, I goofed.

Remember the nerd squad from my Milton class? Well, I've had a particular thing for one of them since the beginning of the semester, but I didn't really think about it. Sure, I thought he was the cutest. Sure, I'd daydream about him sometimes. Sure, I listened to what he was saying. Sure, I wanted him to notice me. But it wasn't anything more than a slight attraction. Right?

Nope. I realized yesterday when I caught myself really wanting to tell E---- all about him that it was a full blown crush.

Worse, the semester is almost over. Meaning that after the second week of December, I'll probably never see him again. Which sucks. Because I really like him. Ugh. Why did I decide to grow feeling now?

So, I admit that I have a crush on M----, and that I foresee myself needing ice cream to recover. But hey, maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe I'll get the guy for once. Haha. That's so unlikely I can't type it with a straight face. I'll let you know when I start my therapy session with Doctors Ben and Jerry. 

A Little Flirting on the Clock

As you've probably noticed, I pretty much spend all my time at work. In consequence, most of the interesting interaction I have with the opposite sex occur when I'm on the clock.

One night, a week or so ago, this really cute guy who works at the supermarket behind the pharmacy I work in, came in to buy some cigarettes on his break. He was tall, tan, sandy haired, and blue-eyed with a smooth, sweet smile, so I promptly melted into an awkward puddle of goo.

I smiled at him, and just checked him out as I would anyone else, because, let's face facts, I suck at flirting. So, imagine the way my heart fluttered when he asked me how my night was going, after we were done with our transaction. Be still my beating heart!

We talked for a few minutes, albeit awkwardly, until the old lady who was passive-aggressively looking at the candy bars made things feel really weird. He told me to have a good night, gave me one last smile (to make sure I was good and melted, I'm sure), and walked out the door.

Apparently, forever, because he hasn't been back. At least not on any of my shifts. Which sucks. Because while I suck at flirting, I'd really like to give awkward small talk with him another try.

By the way, his name was S------, on the off chance that I get to write a sequel to this post. (But I never do, so don't hold your breath.)

Expedition Complete

The expedition was a fail of epic, no, dare I say, catastrophic, proportions.

Let me start by saying, I did not get drunk. During the time between 8pm and 12:30 pm I had a total of three tequila shots (disgusting, I'd rather have vodka and day of the week) and two Long Island ice teas. Now, I don't drink often, but that's not enough to get me drunk. I almost wish I had been drunk, then I might have had an excuse.

But I'm getting ahead of the story. A--- and I got to N----'s house on time/early depending on your definitions. Then, we waited while she took a shower and got dressed (after welcoming us with tequila). Then, she picked out my make-up and did my hair while we waited for E---- to get off work. When E---- got there, she made me do another shot with her, and then, we were all ready to go.

In our quest for parking, N---- broke about a hundred traffic laws, including going the wrong way on a one-way street. Then, E---- continued the lawlessness by crossing when the sign clearly said "DON'T WALK." It did her no good, however, because the rest of us refused, and waited for the light.

We got into the club, and the air was so thick with cigarette smoke, I almost choked. Also, most of the people there had were dressed casually, there were a few others dressed up like we were, but almost all of the guys were just wearing normal everyday clothes. The music was okay, but they used their strobe light way too much.  The Long Islands were damn good, though.

The first hour or so was spent with N---- and E---- trying to get me to bump into cute guys, or to dance near them, or give them "the eye," whatever the hell that means. Then, they abandoned A--- and I for a while, and we just danced. All of us found each other again eventually, and got another Long Island. Then, N---- and E---- spent more time strategizing. After that, we went back on the floor.

Now, up until then, the night had been great. I hadn't been approached, but that didn't really matter because I was having fun. Cue the dehydration.

I started to feel a little shaky, but I thought I was just a little tipsy, so I kept dancing. Then, I started to feel my legs getting weak, but I still ignored it because I didn't want to mess up their fun (they were all dancing with random guys). So, by the time I told A--- that I needed to sit down, it was too late.

I literally took one step and hit the floor. It was the worst sensation, my legs just crumpling beneath me. If you've ever fainted because you stood too long with your knees locked, you know what I mean. I was, of course, mortified, as A--- and some random guy picked me up, and I hit my knees two more times before I got to a seat. I blame the shoes and the heat. I also feel like a total idiot for ignoring what my body was trying to say.

We left soon after that, which is to say, as soon as I could walk back to the car.

In manhunting news, N---- and E---- were beating guys off with sticks, and A--- had a couple of cuties grinding on her (which was uncomfortable for her but amusing for me). Me? One guy all night danced with me (not counting the totally fucked up dude that danced with the four of us before trying to dance with a big dude with dreads who was having none of that bullshit), and he was a definite never-gonna-happen. He was persistent, though, I spent several minutes trying to dance away from him while he grabbed my waist and repeatedly asked me my name. He didn't get it.

So, in summation, it was fun for a night, but that was absolutely not my scene. I think I would enjoy something more laid back, the drinking was fun, but the music and lights were too much. Also, I'd like somewhere I can actually see more than basic outlines of the people around me.

Well, you live and learn. A--- and I had IHOP after, and then, when I got home around 4am, my mom was freaking out a little. I can all but promise her this probably won't happen again. Not the exact same thing, anyway.

The Way You Flirt, Sir...

...it pisses me off.

Tonight, I worked 11am to almost 10pm. About eight hours into my shift a couple of guys came in They may have been a little older than me, but not much, and they were okay looking guys; you know, not movie stars, but not skeezy or gross. Anyway, I said hello when they walked in, then went about my business.

A few minutes later, the Talker walked up to me and said, "I'm ready to check out, are you ready to check me out?" Like right up in my face. Now, it's true, if my day up 'til then hadn't been quite so stupid, I probably wouldn't have been so bothered by his tone, but today pretty much sucked, so I regret nothing.

I went to the register, and was checking him out, and he just kept asking me things and talking to me in the same tone where I knew he was joking (and probably trying to flirt) but really all he was accomplishing was pissing me off. At one point, he said, "Oh, you don't have to keep calling me 'sir,' you're probably older than me, anyway."

At this point, I feel that I need to interject that I can't even get into rated R movies without every employee in the theatre checking my I.D., so no, I don't look old, asshat. I mean, seriously, how the hell was I supposed to respond to that? After that he asked if I'd had a long day, because "the humor's just not rolling on you the right way." I said that my day had, in fact, been long, that I'd been there since 11 and didn't get off until 9:30.

Then, it was his friend's turn to check out, and the Talker still wouldn't shut up! He said, "This guy [his friend] will smile at you to make you day better. [Friend], smile at her." His friend then said, "Shut up, [Talker's-Real-Name-That-I-Didn't-Catch]," under his breath. That got sort of a derisive snort from me, which was apparently encouragement for the Talker, who then proceeded to celebrate his ability to get any reaction (which, I'll admit, at that point, it was pretty impressive, because usually that deep into a stupid predicament, I'm totally shut down, and not even pay attention to anything but escape) from me at all.

Thankfully, they didn't hang around. That whole story might have ended a lot differently if I had been in better humor, but seriously, dude, your idea of flirting is stuck in the third grade. Teasing and talking down to me is not the quickest way to my heart. In fact, it's pretty damn close to the quickest way to piss me off. So, I have yet again, successfully shut down a guy who might possibly have been interested in me. Fuck my life.

Today Was "The Most"

It was. I thought I was exhausted having not gone to sleep until 3:30 am until I checked facebook and N---- hadn't gotten home from the club until 6 am. That was my first clue that today was just going to be stupid. The two of us do stupid stuff when we aren't dog tired, but both of us dog tired working all day shifts. Go ahead and write it off as a dumbass day.

Then, customers just kept doing stupid shit. One man brought in a floppy disk to see if we could process pictures stored on it. Let me run that by you again. He had a floppy disk. I literally saw it and thought, "What the fuck is that?" That's how long it's been since they've been relevant. And that was one of the more pleasant dumbass moments of the day.

One woman asked me 87 questions. While I was trying to walk through the store to the restroom.
I couldn't remember how to do the morning paperwork.
It took me like four hours to put all the sale signs up in the vitamin section.
A woman asked me a question about phone cards. I told her I didn't know anything about them, that the company I work for doesn't do anything but sell them, and that she would have to call the customer service number on the back of the card. And she still kept asking me about the stupid cards! For half an hour! WTF?!
The some grown-ass men came in and started bouncing the balls that we have in one of those weird bungee cord cage things. It pisses me off when little kids do it. Turns out, it pisses me off more when grown-ass men do it.

But all of that to say that today, during "the most" bizarre day I've had in a while, I am almost certain I checked out D-----, one of the local hockey players. And instead of asking if it was him, or making conversation, or flirting, I stared at him like he had six heads.

What the hell am I doing!? He was cute. He may have been a hockey player. He had epic facial hair. He had a nice voice. And all I did was ask if he had one our cards, give him his total, and tell him to have a great day! All while staring at him with this goofy-ass grin.

Excuse the French I'm using liberally today, but FUCK! No wonder I'm single. I've got about as much game as  a dead sloth.

Honestly, the best thing I can say about the whole thing is that he smiled at me the whole time I was staring at him. I'd love to have a do-over.

I'll take that as a compliment...

Tonight at work, this woman in her forties came in, and I complimented her ring (it was really cool looking, and I get distracted by shiny things). She thanked me and started telling me about the ring she usually wore. Her friends told her to stop wearing it because it made people think she was married, and then she joked that that must be the reason why no one had asked her out in a while.

I told her I totally (yes, I did say totally, so what if I sound like a thirteen year-old, it's my life) understood, but that I never wear any rings.

She looked at me, a little confused and said, "Are you married?"

This, of course, made me laugh, and I told her, "No, I've just never been asked out."

I would have given anything to have a picture of her face when she said, "EVER!?"

Then, the one she made when I said, "Nope, never," was even better.

Then, she asked if I went out and did things, to which I replied that I don't "party," but I go to lots of sporting events (code for hockey games) and to the movies and out to eat and pretty much all over the place. Then, she asked, "What about friends from high school?" To which I replied, "They don't exist."

So, then, I got a well intention spiel about how love will happen when I'm not looking for it, blah, blah, blah...

But her total shock. It was priceless. And because it's my policy to take everything as a compliment unless even rose-tinted glasses can't make it a good thing, I'll take that one.

"The Talk"

Eventually, everyone gets "The Talk." I thought that I had escaped this rite of passage, but tonight, my mom took care of that. Yes, you read that right. Tonight. Just to clarify, I'm twenty-two (22) years old. 

The conversation went something like this: we started out talking about one of my friends who is a total Assy McAsshat, and progressed on to how Assy, my ex-friend Bitchy, and my actual friend were all drinking at the hockey game last week. My sister saw them and was telling my mom what a horrible friend Assy was and how much everyone hated Bitchy, so that led Mom to suspect that I, too, drink.

So, we talked about how I drink like once a year, maybe, and laughed at how my sister ratted me out without even thinking that might be what she was doing. After that, we talked about how we don't like the sports teams from New York (Yankees, Rangers, Jets, Islanders, Knicks, etc.)

Mom got up to go to bed, and I got up to get ready for bed (yes, we were in my bedroom because yes, I still live with my parents because I'm a poor college kid, but guess what, I'm cool with it because I'm debt free). Suddenly, she slammed my door open and said,

"And while we're having these talks, just in case you sometime decide to have sex, use protection."

Then, she slammed the door closed, leaving me to laugh at how slim a possibility that is, and at how lucky I am that my mom is freaking awesome. Oh, and, I got the Sex Talk. It's been an interesting night.

Are you serious!?

So, today I started texting this guy that I met on a dating site.

The first red flag should have been when he asked if I would be willing to meet him and his family (who live closer to me than he does), but I let that go as just talk.

The second red flag should have been that while his profile says "schoolteacher," he's really a teacher's aide in school to be a teacher. Ok, so it was a little exaggeration, at least he has ambition, right?

Where I realized that he was way too serious? Text message number 10:

"What's your views on sex? I'm a very honest person, and I want to be able to talk about anything  with you and you be comfortable with me."

Holy guacamole, Batman! I don't even know if you have a pet, or any friends, or what is your favorite food, and you want to be able to talk about anything with me!? Too soon, Tiger.

Hoping that it was the wrong answer for him, I sent back the honest truth. I think sex is for after marriage. His reply?

"That's awesome. I feel the same way. Are you a virgin?"

Really!? Text message number 11, and he just asked if I was a virgin! I am, but so what? That's extremely personal. Way too soon. I said that I was, and he replied that he is, also, but I don't really care. What I can't get over is that that was the most important thing for him to ask me. That's not ok. That's a conversation for sometime after the first date, not for the first ten text messages.