I’m a talkative person, I can generally talk to anyone at
any time, I have no problem walking up to strangers and talking to people, so
maybe that’s why I hate people who are so quiet. What I hate even more are
people who choose to do all their conversing through text message. I get that
it is easier to be brave over text, you can hide behind your little cell phone
or computer and be a chatty Kathy! It’s for that reason I really strongly feel
that when it comes to dating your text conversation should be kept to
a minimum. I feel like it makes an awkward situation when you can spend a week
getting to know every detail of some ones pathetic life only to sit down and go on a date with
them and have these awkward silences filled with not really knowing what to say
or do. So how goes your brothers fight against genital heries that you felt
the need to tell me about over text message? See...awkward.
Mchottie and I met in Mexico, in a drunken state mind you,
but we did spend some time sober together. He was sweet and charming, not
really all that funny, but he was alright. We could hold a conversation. I met
up with him again when he was in Alberta for lacrosse provincials, then after
Kermit and I broke up we began our month long, text and talk every day. I knew
everything about him, we would spend hours talking on the phone, I would talk
to him about Amy Pohler, life, and he would talk about work, lacrosse, different
things he did on the weekend. Our conversations were similar to what couples
talk about when they are trying to maintain a long distance relationship. I had
low expectations of what would happen once I was there, I knew what I wanted,
him to pay for me to go to Toronto (yep...I’m a gold digger, judge all you
want), have a weekend with friends and drinks and that would be it, we would
slowly taper off.
But once I got there everything just seemed wrong, he was arrogant,
unlikeable, and bossy. The weekend as a whole was not good, there were good
parts, but I just don’t think you can start the weekend off with is in my top 3
worst dinner dates and come back from that. He picked me up at the airport, we
drove back to his house and got ready to go for dinner. I am not a jacket
person, people always comment on it, but I just don’t like wearing them, never
really have, so while leaving the house he said, go get your jacket. I am a
grown ass women, if I wanted a jacket I would have grabbed one, I am not five
please don’t talk to me like I am a child. I say I will be fine, he tells me he
won’t leave until I grab one. OKAY DAD! I grab my jacket, we leave. He parks a
million miles away, I guess it is Toronto, and we walk to the restaurant. I
make a note that it’s colder in Toronto than it was in Red Deer. He looks at me
and goes...ya...aren’t you glad I made you take your jacket. No I am not ass
muncher! I would have been fine and if I was cold I wouldn’t have told you
because I am stubborn like that. Automatically I am in a bad mood, but hunger
probably had something to do with it, see I’d been flying all day so I had
eaten a bagel on my way to the airport at about 7 in the morning. It was now 7
o’clock in Toronto. I am not one of those girls that doesn’t eat on the contraire,
I eat, I like to eat, and that’s why I drag my ass to the gym every day, so I
was hungry. We arrived at the restaurant at 7 o’clock on a Friday night, unless
you are Kim K and Kayne or someone with the equivalent amount of fame you are
going to be waiting to get at table. He starts saying how hungry he is, over
and over and over again. No shit jack ass, we are both hungry, hence why we are
going to eat, stop complaining. He starts commenting on which people are
finished eating and not leaving their table in a timely manner, you’re right,
they are sitting there enjoying each other’s company, which is exactly the
opposite of what I am doing now.
We sit down and thus commences the awkward silence and the
awkward, what are you getting...oh I’m not sure what are you getting, conversation.
I hate that conversation, it's forced and just makes things feel uncomfortable, because you know if that comes up it usually means you have nothing better to talk about. We decide by the time the waiter comes around for
drinks...well he decided and I was forced to make a fast decision because he
was hungry. They bring out a starter salad shortly after that. I said starter
salad, not some big salad that has all this stuff, it a small salad with
lettuce and cucumbers. He finishes his quickly and I continue to eat mine,
when I am about half way done MY STARTER SALAD, he looks at me and says...wow
you were hungry, you are eating a lot. IT WAS A FUCKING STARTER SALAD!!!!!!!
Every childhood memory of being called fat comes flashing through my
mind, the time the girl didn’t invite me to her birthday because she didn’t
want a fat kid to eat all her birthday cake, the time the boy didn’t like me
because I was fat, the soccer coach who told me I’d be an amazing soccer player...if I could only lose 20 pounds, all those repressed memories of being the fat
kid came flashing back. Our meal comes...I didn’t eat it. I couldn't I was sent back to that 10 year old version of myself, the one who was to scared to eat in front of people and was so self conscious she would wear a hoody every single day, even if it was 30 degrees out side. But I watched him eat
his meal...all of...maybe you are the over eater fatty, and drank three glasses of wine in the mean time. So now I am a drunk, hungry,
angry mess.
Our conversation picked up once I started drinking more and
we are talking about the mountains and how I love them, he says he went there
once with another friend and two girls but they mostly just stayed in the
hotel...yes...my friends...I am no idiot. He brought another girl to the
mountains for a weekend and was choosing to talk about it in front of me. I didn't tell you about the time I went to the mountain with my ex boyfriend, I don't want to hear about your romantic weekend away either, but thanks. He
can tell I am about to rip his head off so he says lets change the topic. After
I pointed out he brought up his weekend getaway I say I really don’t care
because I am sure there were girls before me and there will be girls after me!
Just like there were guys before him and there will be guys after. I have no filter;
I have no ambition to be nice when I am tried, hungry and apparently an
overeater. This starts our first fight. I am mean, I just have the ability to hold it in most of the time but not when I fight because I will cut you down in every way possible. But I have to spend a weekend with this man and I don't want him to go all Ted Bundy on me, so I just get up and leave in the middle
of him getting mad at me and come back and say ready to go? I figured at that time it was my best option. We walk back to the
car and he asks what I want to do...drink more so I can pretend to like you.
Except I can't say that so I suggest we meet up with his friends for a drink because I'm not really tired.
So upon arrival I made friends with one of his, and I drink. He was more pleasant, he was funny and actually carried a conversation with me, shocking concept I know. I could tell Mchottie was getting annoyed, I had just spent he last hour pleasantly ignoring him but letting him buy my drinks. Just what I wanted.
He drags me home at 12 and by that point I can almost
tolerate him, thanks to my early choice to switch to hard alcohol, some times wine just doesn't cut it. That’s pretty much how my weekend went, get drunk so I like
you...ahh I am sober...I HATE YOU MUST GET DRUNK!
That “date” night was definitely the top worst ones of my
life, partly because he sucks, but a lot of it was because I knew that I had to spend the rest of the weekend with him so there wasn't an escape...the shocking part was, he said it went perfect...do men lie? Because the
common thing about all horrible dates, is that the women is saying oh my god never again!
While the man thinks it went awesome...oh dating...how awesome are thee
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