It's just not funny anymore.
Although I pride myself on my ability to find humour in every situation, even the strongest boxer will get knocked out if he's punched in the face repeatedly, right? And I feel like I'm somehow endorsing this behaviour by turning it into humour.
So here's a PSA to the men who read this blog: it's not cute. Cut it out.
Thanks to those of you who read it, laughed at it, and asked me to post more.
So a few weeks back I went to a party to celebrate a little phenomenon I like to call "another one bites the dust". The party was largely a
Sidebar: there was also another one who was never written about but should have been for asking for my number, stroking my vajinga in public to seal the deal, and then never calling me.
The first you may remember as the incognegro non-email responder. I bump into this one regularly so it was no biggie but he did manage to IRK me by gleefully introducing me to his girlfriend and managing to refer to said girlfriend as his girlfriend twice in three seconds. Impressive. However did I let this gem slip away?
Anyway, the real story of the evening was the appearance of the one I never wanted to write about. When last we saw this jackass, he was promising to call me on Friday. Three years passed and I'm still waiting on that call. And what's surprising is that I haven't even bumped into him in all this time, despite the fact that we live in the same city, are from the same city, and have tons of mutual acquaintances. It's quite odd, now that I think about it. Friends have been married, had children, had birthdays, and yet I've never seen him. Kinda makes me think he's been avoiding me.
Sidebar #2: Now that I think about it, I did once drive by him as he was riding his bike on College and I was driving home from a pole-dancing class. I remember being really, really tempted to hit him with my car. But I didn't.
Anyway, this jackass showed up wearing shiny highwater pants, white socks, black pointy loafers, and carrying a murse. (I tell you, I've picked some real winners in my time). I spotted him not long after he got there and immediately dragged Mansa and Sharon over to see him. "He better not twist his mouth to speak to me" I growled mutinously.
check the shoe/sock/pant combo if you don't believe me.About an hour went by and no mouth twisting was occurring. And I was starting to get even more irked because was this guy really trying to NOT speak to me? But of course eventually he slithered up to me like the shiny snake he is.
I can't recall the conversation exactly but I know it started like this:
Him: staring at me giving me his puppy-dog-I'm-sorry eyes
Me: "oh don't start with the fucking puppy-dog eyes!"
Him: continuing to stare with the puppy-dog eyes
Me: "Are you going to speak?"
Him: a full minute of puppy-dog staring
Me: "Ok you let me know when you actually have something to say"
Eventually he said he was sorry. Then immediately asked if I forgave him. I said "um, excuse me it took you three years to apologize - could I maybe have three minutes before you force me to accept?". He asked if he could hug me. I grudgingly let him. He explained that he was a coward and afraid of confrontations. I gently suggested that he not do fucked-up things to people and then they would probably not want to confront him.
We continued to chitchat for a few minutes until what I can only assume was his next victim came to collect him. We said our goodbyes and then I said "Don't be a stranger".
"I won't" he promised.
"You know where to find me," I said with a classic Max-smirk.
"I will" he said.
and THEN
and then...you know the rest.
Thanks all.
xoxo
max
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2 comments:
i wish i could post the picture of the offending pants and socks
i'm posting it.
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