Monday, May 01, 2006
My Life- The Sitcom
Oh, my life. Quite frankly, if I wasn't actually living it, I don't know if I would believe it.
Friday- New Boy, Scott, sent me a text message telling me he didn't have to work that night and did I want to meet up later? I was having dinner with my girlfriends, but I told him I would call him afterwards and we can meet up then, probably around 11ish. 10:45, I call him, he doesn't answer, but I leave him a message and then head home. I'm not in the mood to hang out in the West Village for hours waiting for a semi-unreliable boy. Suprisingly, I do have standards.
12:30, I get a text message from him. No apologies, no explanations, but apparently wishing he could see me. I text him the equivalent of a bitch-slap. I'm not pleased at being blown off and I make it clear. Text messaging ends around 3, nothing resolved.
The next day, he calls me around 4:30. He'd been out with his boys, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Actually, I think he was telling me the truth, but whatever. He asks if I want to go out that night, and in a moment of complete lack of self-control, I say yes. But in my head I am considering the odds of him actually following through, and they don't look good. We make plans to see a movie, we've got time and place all figured out and I'm thinking that this might actually happen. He says he's going to jump in the shower and he'll call me when he's ready.
An hour later- I've heard nothing. I start to get PISSED and call Michelle to start working on some other plans. While I'm on the phone to Michelle, I get the following text message and I swear to God that I am not making this up-
'My godbrother got shot in BK, I'm sorry but I have to go out there. I apologize again.'
I have relayed the story of this text message to a lot of people in the ensuing days. Out of all of them, only ONE person believes it and it's not me (that Abby, such a sucker!). The fact that I haven't heard from him since, only reinforces the He's-a-Dirty-Liar theory.
I ended up going out with Michelle that night, hooked up with a Crazy Irish Guy, but just as things were getting hot, I had the actual honest-to-God thought in my head, "I can't have sex with this guy, he's white!" I then proceeded to stop everything, exercised my prerogative as a woman and told him I couldn't and just wanted to go to sleep. Which wasn't completely about him being white, it was more that I wasn't interested in having sex with someone I had known less than 5 hours. Next day reaction: SO, SO glad I didn't go through with it.
Once I got over my initial anger, I managed to find a great deal of hilarity in the situation, especially after talking to Abby last night and learning of her own interesting adventures in Dating Hell. She hooked up with a guy, and then had to sneak out the next morning because he lived with his Grandma and she couldn't know Abby was there. To make everything worse, he told her that Granny would be especially upset about her, because she's NOT WHITE (she's half-white, half-Panamanian).
YOU CAN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP!
Friday- New Boy, Scott, sent me a text message telling me he didn't have to work that night and did I want to meet up later? I was having dinner with my girlfriends, but I told him I would call him afterwards and we can meet up then, probably around 11ish. 10:45, I call him, he doesn't answer, but I leave him a message and then head home. I'm not in the mood to hang out in the West Village for hours waiting for a semi-unreliable boy. Suprisingly, I do have standards.
12:30, I get a text message from him. No apologies, no explanations, but apparently wishing he could see me. I text him the equivalent of a bitch-slap. I'm not pleased at being blown off and I make it clear. Text messaging ends around 3, nothing resolved.
The next day, he calls me around 4:30. He'd been out with his boys, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Actually, I think he was telling me the truth, but whatever. He asks if I want to go out that night, and in a moment of complete lack of self-control, I say yes. But in my head I am considering the odds of him actually following through, and they don't look good. We make plans to see a movie, we've got time and place all figured out and I'm thinking that this might actually happen. He says he's going to jump in the shower and he'll call me when he's ready.
An hour later- I've heard nothing. I start to get PISSED and call Michelle to start working on some other plans. While I'm on the phone to Michelle, I get the following text message and I swear to God that I am not making this up-
'My godbrother got shot in BK, I'm sorry but I have to go out there. I apologize again.'
I have relayed the story of this text message to a lot of people in the ensuing days. Out of all of them, only ONE person believes it and it's not me (that Abby, such a sucker!). The fact that I haven't heard from him since, only reinforces the He's-a-Dirty-Liar theory.
I ended up going out with Michelle that night, hooked up with a Crazy Irish Guy, but just as things were getting hot, I had the actual honest-to-God thought in my head, "I can't have sex with this guy, he's white!" I then proceeded to stop everything, exercised my prerogative as a woman and told him I couldn't and just wanted to go to sleep. Which wasn't completely about him being white, it was more that I wasn't interested in having sex with someone I had known less than 5 hours. Next day reaction: SO, SO glad I didn't go through with it.
Once I got over my initial anger, I managed to find a great deal of hilarity in the situation, especially after talking to Abby last night and learning of her own interesting adventures in Dating Hell. She hooked up with a guy, and then had to sneak out the next morning because he lived with his Grandma and she couldn't know Abby was there. To make everything worse, he told her that Granny would be especially upset about her, because she's NOT WHITE (she's half-white, half-Panamanian).
YOU CAN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP!
Labels: Scott
