Saturday, October 18, 2003

Why I haven't called you...

So this girl on sends me a wink. I'm curious, so I reply.

We go to dinner on the Saturday before my b-day and things go well. She seems nice. Three days later, we go out again. Then the next Saturday, even though I just moved and am kind of tired, she invites me over and we rent a movie. We don't watch much of the movie. The next day, I'm very busy 'closing up' the old apartment, and don't call. Actually, I'm busy unpacking and doing school stuff, so I don't call until...Thursday. My bad. She calls back on Saturday, invites me to meet her and two friends to watch the game. We go back to my apartment, which has marginally improved over the week. Things get quite interesting again.

And then.....she says 'those words'.

"I'm not sure what I want"

Not what I want to hear. Especially when we're in the "deciding about you" phase. Not when I spent a good chunk of last year falling in love with someone who threw me that same curveball after first inviting me to meet her family.

Sure, we fooled around after she said that. Sure, she spent the night. But...I kept thinking about those words. And some others that came out. And I decided to nip it in the bud. I've been through the emotional wringer twice. I'm not going there three times. No way. She's out there, the one for me, who knows exactly what she wants, and it's right next to her in the bed, warts and all.

So I hope you weren't mad that I kind of shoved you out the door (though I did that more because you told me how you promised your friend you'd be there to cheer her on in the Marathon, and keeping your word is important to me). And I hope you're not mad that it's Sweetest Day, and I haven't called. Nor have I called all week. Because I've been thinking about what you said, and I don't want to talk about it. I talked about it with Dawn, and then with Laura, and it got nowhere. I'm not doing it again. Every ten minutes (if not sooner), a cute woman goes by my apartment. There's too many opportunities for me to work on a project. And I have too much going on in my life right now for a needy girlfriend.

You were very nice, S, of luck.

How to dump a man (with thanks to Wendy and Patty)

Dear ________,

I regret to inform you that you have been eliminated from furthercontention as Mr. Right. As you are probably aware, the competition wasexceedingly tough and dozens of well-qualified candidates such as yourselfalso failed to make the final cut. I will, however, keep your name on fileshould an opening become available. So that you may find better success inyour future romantic endeavors, please allow me to offer the followingreason(s) you were disqualified from the competition.

Check those that apply...

Your last name is objectionable. I can't imagine taking it, hyphenating it, or subjecting my children to it.

Your first name is objectionable. It's just not something I can picture myself yelling out in a fit o passion.

The fact that our dining experiences to date has left MY wallet a little lighter, and YOUR pants a little tight.

Your inadvertent admission that you "buy condoms by the truckload" indicates that you may be interested in me for something other than my personality.

You failed the 20 Question Rule, i.e., I asked you 20 questions about yourself before you asked me more than one about myself.

Your constant emailing shows me you have TOO much time on your hands!

Your legs are skinnier than mine.

You're too short. Any son that we produced would inevitably be beaten up repeatedly at recess.

You're too tall. I'm developing a chronic neck condition from trying to kiss you.

You have a hairy back.

I find your inability to fix my car extraordinarily unappealing.

The fact that your apartment has been condemned reveals an inherent slovenliness that I fear is unbreakable.

The phrase "My Mother" has popped up far too often in conversation.

You still live with your parents.

Although I do enjoy the X-Files, I find your wardrobe of Star Trek uniforms a little disconcerting.

Your frequent references to your ex-girlfriend lead me to suspect that you are some sort of psychotic stalker.

Your ability to belch the alphabet is not a trait that I am seeking in a long term partner.

Your height is out of proportion to your weight. If you should, however, happen to gain the necessary 17 vertical inches, please resubmit your application.

Somehow I doubt those condoms I found in your overnight bag were really necessary for a successful business trip.

I am out of your league, set your sights lower next time.