Mr. Bad Attitude

January 4th, 2010

In order for this "date" to make any sense to an outsider, a little background is in order as to what was happening in my life during the weeks leading up to it.  Looking back (it was actually only a few months ago), I think I have a pretty good handle on why I was doing what I was doing, but you know that hindsight is blah blah.

If you've read any of my previous entries, you probably get the feeling that I have some masochistic tendencies and denial is no stranger to me (to say the least).  So, while I'm going on all of these dates, doubleheaders here, makeout sessions there, my divorce is sucking the life out of me more than Murky Dismal ever did (yeah, that guy) and I was trying harder than anything to distract myself from it.  My estranged ex, battling his own demons, was trying to win me back with every tactic he could muster: manipulation, guilt, memories, the slow death he was creating for himself, this, that, the other thing.  It became such a stress on me (Am I a bad person because I won't take him back?  Am I selfish for trying to protect my well-being?  I mean, I loved the guy) that I decided to find some trouble to get into.  Naturally, this would give me a good excuse to shift all of my worries to myself instead of him.  Yeah, it's stupid, but that's what I did.

Are you ready for this?  It's really, really idiotic.

With this mindset I was absolutely ready for Mr. Bad Attitude to chat me up.  During our online conversations (so gay) he referred to me as "Jerk" and "Fag" which reminded me of my ex.  Hahahahaha, it's so sad that this is true!  I wanted the negativity so badly because it made me feel like someone else was in control and I could just calm down.  What?  I don't know.  He was smart, but very cynical and self-loathing.  Sounds like a great date!

On my quest for what I can only imagine was a physical injury or some sort of trauma, I agree to meet Mr. Bad Attitude at HIS HOUSE which is 45 minutes away from me.  The plan is to watch movies in his room (very 9th grade).  Um, was I trying to get attacked?  Yes, yes I was.  I am somewhat conscious of this fact and gave two friends the address of the house where I would be and told them to call the cops if they didn't hear from me by midnight.  Off I went.

FIRST IMPRESSION:  His apartment has all of the lights off (creepy) so I can't really see him when I enter.  I notice how short he is as I follow him to his room and once in the light see he is bespectacled with facial scruff.  Not fat, but built sort of like he sits still all day with a semi-hog nose that I actually really like.

Things are immediately weird.  Duh.  He has Barbarella playing with the sound off and brings out Cherry Garcia for us to eat.  Apparently, I eat like a child and got ice cream all over the spoon handle so he didn't want any.  I ask him, "So, what do you do all day?" and he responds, "You're lookin' at it."  Mind you, he was slouched on his bed with his remote control in his hand. 

We watch Roller Boogie with Carrie Fisher and then he proceeds to tickle me.  A lot.  I assume this is his sort of entry into kissing, but it was really confusing because it lasted too long.  Eventually, I just pretend to laugh and then finally stop altogether because I was pretty annoyed.  We end up making out (we are in his room) and he (surprise, surprise) tries to have sex with me.  I say no and then he starts acting bratty.  I feel bad and actually sort of scared that he'll force it anyway.  I mean, he probably could have.  SO GLAD he became bratty and upset.  I decide I need to leave and look at my cell phone.  I have 24 missed calls and 10 voice messages.  Oops.  I failed to call my friends (and also but my phone on vibrate).  Needless to say the cops were two seconds from knowing my whereabouts and one of my closest friends was one second from stabbing me herself.

The close call that was my evening with Mr. Bad Attitude set in on my drive home and I avoid talking to him at all costs.

Date #16:  Chilling, but not chilling enough to stop the bad behavior.  Plenty more to come!  Sheesh.