Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Worst Weekend Ever
I know this is the ultimate in hubris to think that anyone would want to read about my dating life. My experiences are always weird and fucked up and would only happen to me. What I would like to see happen is have my many fabulous male and female friends contribute so we may begin to develop a dating strategy. Boy Gorgeous (names have been changed to protect the innocent, um, sort of in this case) and I began flushing out this idea this weekend, we will be calling it developing your Dating Mantality. "He's just not that into you" is all well and good, but by the time you figure that out, you have put out, gotten attached, perhaps started doodling his name......may be some sort of consolation but the damage has already been done. Dating, especially in LA, is war my friends and I know I need to develop an emotional flack jacket. I could use your help. Ok, we are going to begin with The Boy experience which kicked off what is soon to be known as the Worst Weekend Ever. Had a fabulous date Thursday night with The Boy including sushi, sake and some nice Cab afterward at my place. Such a good looking boy, funny, a poet and soon to be filmmaker.....one thing leads to another and of course I put out. Friday, awake to round 3, or 4?? Oj in bed and then off to work for me and off to school for him (admittedly I was robbing the cradle on this one). As he leaves, he blows me a kiss. I blow him a kiss which he catches and puts in his pocket. So sappy and cute, I ate it up. "Bye Gorgeous, call you later!" and he was off. Sigh. Good times. Fast forward to dinner Friday night, at Mexicali drinking margs and telling my gf about my debauched and fab night and who walks in? (come on, play along) The Boy. With? A girl. And? Her parents!!!!! They are seated a mere two top away to my right, with The Boy facing me. What the fuck are the chances of that?? (It has been noted by Mr. Fantastic that God doesn't allow me even ten consecutive hours of happiness.) At one point, I go to the bathroom and, of course, The Boy is alone in the extremely tight hallway. "She is my ex fiance and her parents who are visiting.......they don't know we broke up...sure I told you....yadda yadda". I mustered all of the adult composure I could and replied with, "it is fine, you don't owe me any explanation. Just incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. You aren't my boyfriend. What the FUCK IS TAKING THAT CHICK SO LONG IN THE BATHROOM?!?!". I just wanted this mortifying moment to end. Which it did, and I did my thing and returned to the table in time to watch the chick fawn all over him. My friends arrived and gave him the death glare. John said they had to have known something was up because The Boy was being stared down by four people and you could cut the tension with a knife. Sarah wished she were there so she could have called him a dirty ballsucker in front of his company. (Love her!!) We leave, I get the 10:30 "I am so sorry" call, "need to make it up to you". In retrospect, I think he was just trying to find out where I was so he could avoid it and go out with his, ahem, "ex" fiance. Promised to call by noon the next day with some big plan. Must have been some miscommunication, I still haven't gotten the call. Think I should hold Sat night for him?