neoacidcreep

First off, there is THIS!  An article obviously written by a woman in which she basically tells men to lie to their partners and pander them whenever they start acting irrational.  Wonderfully proving my point that women should A) never, ever write anything B) that even other women know that they are fucking nuts C) that women should never, ever write anything PERIOD.

With that out of the way, onto the meat and potatoes.

Firstly I tried way too hard to get a date with this chick.  I sent her a bunch of text asking what she was doing and if she wanted to get together.  I think the final tally registered in around 6 or 8 text messages.  I haven't tried to talk to a girl that bad since I was 18 or so.  Why did I try so hard to make contact 9 months of no dating, 8 months of no sex makes me act out of character apparently.

Finally this chick responds to a message and invites me out for a drink.  Right off the bat I am not liking  the prospect, same day dates are always fucked, they are like Saturdays, no good ever happens on them.  The idea of free beer though gets me over this first hurdle.

It's around 6 o'clock when I decide to leave, I throw on a cleaner shirt and some jeans, I don't do my hair, and I refuse to shave.  I decide to put as little effort into how I look as possible, aiming for that bad boy image I project so well.  Also, for some reason unknown to me, I wanted to look like shit, I kind of wanted to do things that turned chicks off.  Who knows why I do what I do some times.

I take the hour long walk downtown.  I am already tired and discontent, I meet up with the chick but I am too busy fiddling with my Zune trying to find Snot "My Balls" trying to amp myself and recapture some of that desire to be out on a date, so right off the bat, bad impression and she ends up floating away from me while I finish up my cigarette.

We get inside and I have to say it seems slightly promising, despite I am avoiding eye-contact at almost all cost.  Looking all over the bar, reading and rereading the same signs trying not to catch her eyes.  I don't like the bar right away, it's loud, full of people that spent too much time deciding what to wear, ordering stupid drinks and generally being pretentious, I don't fit in.

To her credit, she was being cute, trying to make small talk about innocuous topics, all very noncommittal.  For some reason I find that kind of behavior cute.  We get our drinks, she pays (which is hot), we shuffle into a booth.  Even tucked away the bad music still invades my consciousness and I can barely concentrate on what to talk about.  I make some comment about the music through my twitching and fidgeting and she takes the cue and moves us to the back of the bar at this ridiculously large booth.

I am forced to sit on the outside cause she already slid into the inside.  My eye keeps catching these girls walk by dressed in pants that look painted on and dresses that show off too much skin and high heels, lots of heels, its too much for me to not take notice.  I try to fight off the urge to gawk at every girl in the bar, I succeed to some extent but she doesn't seem to notice, or doesn't care.

Our conversation, of course, goes into every topic that I am strong-willed about and avoid like the fucking plague on first dates, shit I avoid these topics for the first three months of any relationship, some choice examples:
"So what do you think about abortion?"
"Oh, you are a Republican..."
"I don't care about religion and all that nonsense."
I forget what we were talking about but I get into something vaguely philosophical and you can literally see this girl just glaze over, it was so bad I actually trailed off and just said "but you obviously don't care about that...".  Philosophy.  She said she just didn't care about it much.  ...Philosophy...you know, my life's pursuit.

We end up back at the first booth, things seem to be getting a little better.  The third or fourth beer I was kicking back though probably had more to do with it then anything happening in reality.  I start eye-balling the clock, waiting for what feels like the appropriate time to make my exit.  Just as I am seriously thinking about leaving she invites these two other chicks to sit down, I am stuck on the inside next to this complete stranger.  It always bodes well when your date invites other people to join you...

 We all trade obligatory introductions, one of the chicks is sloppy drunk, slurring her words, getting loud, saying foul abusive things about everyone around her, so, you know, I like her a lot.  She was fun in a wind her up and watch her go, I kept leaning over and calling her a bitch which amused her and I to no end.

I take to these two girls, they are fun and exciting.  I was enjoying their company, and I always work better in groups as opposed to one-on-one.  These two chicks are eating me up to, they are laughing hard at my jokes, they are listening to what I say, the one that wasn't sloppy drunk kept complimenting me which is always awesome.  The girl I am out on the date with is obviously not amused by me talking to these two girls, with good reason to, the whole night I am half dead, barely talking, zoning out, looking around, avoiding eye-contact, twitching-twitching (when the fuck do I twitch?), and just generally acting like I don't want to be there and then suddenly I come to life.  I am asking these two questions and yelling and talking shit.

The girl I was out with is obviously not amused and gets up and starts talking to her friend.  I don't notice for a few moments, I thought she went to go smoke a cigarette or something.  I notice she is seated and having a conversation.  "Fuck, I just want to fuck this up."  I say to myself when it becomes apparent that it might appear like I am flirting with these two chicks and now my date is pissed off at me.

I explain to the two that her and I are "kind of on a date and I am fucking it up well enough without you two helping".  They understand and let me up to go talk to my date.  I ask her why she left we with these two crazy bitches, after a little back and forth she comes back to the table.  Awkward silence before the sloppy drunk bitch says "So are you two, like, on a date or something?", I let my date respond with a very subdued "kinda".  The two chicks apologize for interrupting and excuse themselves.

The night seems to get a little better after that.  She starts babbling to me and I am maintaining eye-contact like a fucking champ.  I have my hand over my mouth to hide my smile as I fear she might take it as an insult.  We have nothing in common, it is so obvious.  She is just not interested in me whatsoever, so what does Josh do?  Suddenly I want to kiss her, badly.  Her tepid response to me is just like an aphrodisiac, I suddenly wanted to win her over to my team. 

After a couple of failed attempts to just kiss her, I finally declare that I have been trying to kiss her for the past half an hour and if she would just move her shit off the bench I would go over to her and kiss her.  She obliges halfheartedly.  I kiss her, her lips are thin and tight, she doesn't seem to be too interested in returning a kiss, but I do it anyways.  At the time I thought she was into it, but in retrospect, probably not so much. 

I kiss her a few more times before she tells me she wants to go home.  For some reason I got it in my head to invite her back to my place, probably lucky beer number eight was the one with the idea.  I keep trying to ask her in a nonchalant way but get detracted before I ask.  Then, invariably, I forget to ask her, then remember but don't want to like shout it at her so I decide to wait, then forget, so on and so forth.

Her cab pulls up and I start off in the direction of home.  Staying on par with the night it doesn't even occur to me to try to kiss her goodnight until she has already said something to the effects of "oh, ok, I guess you are leaving" and got into a cab.  I guess it is for the best that the date ended with the same flippancy that we both brought to it.

Cut to the next night, Saturday.  I try to get her to hang out with me, it's a no go.  I ask her out again for a date on Sunday, nothing.  I have never asked a chick out so many times and got turned down so many times.  Horribly depressing.  I am talking to her on instant messenger while I update this, cause for some reason I still want to ask her out again.  I like having to chase a chick apparently.

That, in all of it's ridiculous detail, is my return to the dating scene, my return and my subsequent exit.  I am good again for a minute, I am not going to try to win someone over to my side, I don't want any of the head games, the waiting a few days or acting uninterested.  I'd rather be alone then keep putting myself on emotional limbs like that, especially for a chick I know almost nothing about.  That was never how I acted and I don't get why I am acting like it now.

There is actually a follow-up to this story, my first amazing Joshventure in Syracuse happened right after our date, but I don't want to get into that right now, I will definitely post about it though cause, fuck, my adventures even amuse me.