Feeling Intensely Awkward

I’ve been on a lot of first dates, a few second dates… sometimes I just ended up being friends with the guy.  And everyone lives happily ever after…

 

Until the point I realize that we are not, in fact, friends.

 

I just discovered this with Metal Guy (MG).  I saw MG 2 times a few months back.  He was a nice interesting guy, that I just didn’t see or feel anything happening with.

 

He never “made a move” on me, so I assumed that he felt the same way.  It’s all good.

 

Fast forward to yesterday, when I do something stupid, because… well because it’s just what I do.

 

MG is a computer graphic guy and I had this awesome image that I had taken and edited, I thought he’d appreciate it.  So I sent it to him and asked him how he was.

 

He says he’s ok, then it goes to shit.

 

He says how disappointed he was, that he was hopeful about me and asked what he did wrong.

 

Fuck… I hate this.

 

I told him that he did nothing wrong, which he didn’t, I just wasn’t sure what I wanted at the time.  I tried to avoid saying that I just didn’t “feel it”.

 

He mentioned being “bitter” which surprised me and I apologized.  He asked me why I apologized and I said it was for inspiring bitterness.

He said if it wasn’t me it would probably have been someone else.

 

When I got home from work last night, I went “off the grid” which means disconnecting from all electronics.  They’re exhausting and I’d been suffering from insomnia.

 

While I was disconnected, he texted and asked “If I asked you out again, would you?”

 

I saw the message this morning and I didn’t reply.  I know, rude.

 

So, about an hour ago I get another text from him saying “wow”.

 

I told him about going off the grid and said that I didn’t know.  That I thought he was pretty intense and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.

 

He didn’t believe me, said that I was rude and that he should thank me because he “dodged a bullet” with me… oh and that he’d lose my number “with a quickness”.

 

There were and continue to be more texts… I feel like an ass.  I hate it when I feel like an ass .

 

But, I was, obviously, not wrong about him being too intense.

The Unrequested Penis

Some days, my brain feels so full that I cannot shut it off…. Today is one of those days, so I hope that you will bear with me.

 

A post on http://theapeleader.wordpress.com/2013/07/24/a-handy-guide-for-the-men-out-there/  made me think of an experience that I had a few years ago…

 

Let me preface this by saying that, even though my brain runs a hundred miles a minute, I am otherwise quite lazy.  I have, honestly not cleaned out the phone book in my phone for YEARS, I get a new phone, I transfer EVERYTHING.  So, needless to say, I have contacts in there that should be deleted.  Aside from the ones I’m afraid that I could potentially drunk-text, I have started to delete them.

 

ANYWAY…

 

I realize I am not a silly 15 year old girl, and I know that I should know better.  I tend to be a little impulsive at times, not always thinking things all the way through.

 

So here’s what happened……

 

I had been chatting with a man I’ll call S for a few weeks.  It was early into my reintroduction into the dating world, so I was taking my time.

S and I were exchanging texts during work when he requests a photo of my panties.

 

Hhhhhmmmmmm, I sat at my desk and considered the request.

 

I wasn’t even sure how I could take a photo, not in the public bathroom that was for sure.  I could see myself standing in front of the mirror, in panties only, as someone from the human resources office down the hall walked in.  So that method was out.

 

After much contemplation, I had a brilliant idea!!! No shocker there, right?

 

Since I happened to be wearing a skirt, I went into the private bathroom, took my panties off, lay them on the sink and snapped a photo.  I know that was kinda cheating……

While I have the photo up, I go to my contacts list…. Find S and send the photo…..return to my desk and carry on with my day.

The recreated panty shot.
Don’t judge, those are work panties!

 

I expect a text soon from S, but nothing comes.  I’m a little irked.

 

Then, I hear the familiar ding, alerting me of a text.  “It must be S” I thought.

 

I open the message to see a photo of a Full Monty, but not from MY S!!

 

Turns out that a friend of an ex of mine had the same first name as S, and I had inadvertently sent the photo to him.

 

FUCK

 

So, he replies to a photo of my panties lying on a sink with a photo of his junk!! What the fuck???  I threw up a little in my mouth.

 

Interestingly, this guy had said some awful things about me after the break up with the ex, none of which were true…. One would have thought that he hated me….. I suppose he could have hated me still, just wanted me to see his wiener.

And, honestly, I think I am pretty visual for a girl.  But not for one second did that photo make me want to molest him, even though it had been some time since I had molested a wiener.

 

I will never pretend to understand the male mind.  I had a guy friend try to explain to me that men aren’t as complicated as women like to believe.  As women, I think we try to second guess the actions of men when we don’t understand what they are doing “Maybe he did that because of this”.  And we could come up with many scenarios to try to make their actions make sense to us.  According to my friend, men just do what sounds reasonable at the time……. Since I do not possess a Y chromosome, I am not even going to try to fathom what goes on in their gray matter (or their underpants).

 

Never, if I had received a photo of one of my Bff’s ex’s underpants, would I respond with a photo of my boobs.  It wouldn’t even cross my mind.  Probably because I’d be so creeped out.

 

But, hey, that’s just TrippyBeth…..

 

Lesson learned:  when you have more than one person with the same first name in your address book, do SOMETHING OBVIOUS to distinguish them from one another…… lest you may have to have your corneas assaulted by an unappealing, unrequested penis….. no one wants that.  I deleted S, the exhibitionist, from my phone book.