Larry the Shithead: A Story of Dating Exhaustion

Boy meets girl in a bar. Girl thinks boy is attractive, smart, and funny. Boy thinks girl is a total babe and they exchange phone numbers. What do you do when the boy becomes progressively unreliable? This is the story of Kim and Larry.*

Kim is a coworker of mine who is beautiful, funny and very smart. At work one day Kim told us about a man she met the night before at the bar. Larry seemed to have it all; the looks, a job and a personality to match. We were excited for Kim, encouraging her to pursue Larry.

After some texting and failed date attempts Larry finally came around and took our dear Kim out. A movie and dinner I believe. A second date came about, an impromptu night in. Kim was happy and so were we; then came the most recent date.

Kim wanted to go to the movies to see SKyfall with Larry. When Kim messaged Larry to discuss plans it was 9:40pm. Larry suggested they see the movie Flight which had started at 9:25pm. Strike one. When Kim expressed her concern Larry admitted to already physically being at the theater and just watched Skyfall. Strike two. Kim text back to have a good night. Larry, you dumb shit, why would you see a movie you know your girl wanted to see? EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!!

Unaware of his shittery, Larry text Kim “Good morning” the next day. Sure, pretend you didn’t do something dumb last night, Larry. Aware of his shittery, Kim text back asking how the movie was. Larry’s response, he didn’t see it. At this point Kim shouts to us “REALLY? He left the theater after paying for his ticket with his cheap ass?” Larry says he will wait to see the movie with Kim. I call bullshit. Attempting to be reasonable Kim gives Larry a second chance. A chance to redeem himself, maybe he was having an off night.

Around 5:30pm Larry texts Kim telling her the movie starts at 9:25pm. To confirm plans Kim called Larry around 7pm. Where was Larry? Oh, just eating dinner at Applebee’s. REALLY? You are eating DINNER right before your date? Call me old-fashioned but shouldn’t a movie date be accompanied with dinner? Fine, Kim accepts this shitty move and tries to move past it. Don’t be so quick. Larry then goes on to say he will be attending his cousin’s basketball game after dinner. Huh. Okay, Larry. Real cool. Strike three. In the real world you only get three strikes. In the Larry world you are playing with a class-act and Kim gives him yet another shot. After the basketball game Larry texts Kim if he is picking her up or if they should just meet. At 9:10pm Kim responds to meet there. At 9:21 Larry texts which theater to meet at and of course he picks the theater which is 20 minutes away from Kim.

Late to the movie, caught in the rain, Kim arrives to the theater to Larry not being there. Upset and wet Kim changed the plans to go the bar. A shot of Patrone will certainly help in this situation, no? Late boy shows up at the bar as Kim is on her second shot. Kim asked him to take a shot of Patrone with her, so what does he order? Grand Marnier on the rocks. Sure, that’s the same thing. After a few shots Larry and Kim agree to head over the theater and attempt to see another movie, Killing me Softly


Walking past the concessions Larry kindly offers to buy something for Kim; Kim agrees to a bottle of water. Larry, being incredibly frugal, asks the concessionaire how much for a bottle of water. Listen guys; DON’T ask how much something is when YOU offered to buy it. Ugh. The concessionaire responded “$4.75.” in which Larry repeats “$4.75?!” Yes, it is $4.75. It is a movie theater not a gas station. Larry then tries to convince Kim to order a pop instead, because you get more for the same price. IF KIM WANTED A POP SHE WOULD HAVE ORDERED A POP! Feeling defeated, Kim orders a raspberry ice tea.



Finally in their seats, watching previews, Larry decides this a good time to talk sexually to Kim. Larry, you never cease to amaze me. JUST THEN…Larry pulls out a pack of fruit snacks from his pocket. Okay, I’m all about saving money, especially when it comes to a movie theater. But on the first rounds of dating? Larry can’t catch a break. Kim then offers Larry a drink of tea, to which he replies with “No. I’d rather have some water.” *head hits desk*

Poor, poor Kim. Larry is by far the most ridiculous man I have ever heard about. The strikes against him are minor details, but when added up it is though Larry wasn’t trying to impress at all.

Can we please offer Kim some advice or encouragement?

*Names have been changed to save face


You can’t compete with an ex-wife

When it comes to my dating preferences my close friends know I’m a woman with different tastes in men compared to other women. I like my men to be rugged, a face full of unique characteristics, funny, socially charming, and not an ounce of muscle showing. Oh, and another thing, I like my man to come with baggage. Full-blown emotionally jaded, relationship-ily stunted and characteristically flawed. There is something about these men who are so cynically invested in love that they can barely hold their head up. I want to help them, fix them. Now ladies, we should all know by now you cannot help or change a man, especially one who isn’t willing to change. But I can’t help how I feel about these men. They are damaged goods and I’m prepared to pay the price to be with them. My favorite type of damaged goods: divorced men.

My FWB is a classic case of damaged goods. He is divorced from a lesbian who cheated on him. You couldn’t possibly find someone more cynical then this guy. His total outlook on women is depressing, believing all women are cheating whores with no morals. Well done, FWB. You’ve figured out the goal of the entire population of women is to make every single man’s life miserable.

Although my FWB is fucked up because of his ex I guarantee if she were to stroll back in to his life he would scoop her up into his arms and never look back. He speaks fondly of being married to the love of his life and how I should believe in love at first sight. Well, dumb ass, clearly she wasn’t the love of your life if she was more interested in women. Shouldn’t the love of your life love you back? Like, full-heartily, head-over-heels, love?


Ross. Divorced. Sad. Married a lesbian.

Then there was the convict. He was divorced from a woman who sent him to jail. Sure, he totally deserved that sentence and he even more so deserved to be divorced. But I felt sorry for him. I wanted to show him that not all women would kick him to the curb for his mistakes. I worked hard on the relationship, meaning I was very obedient and hardly voiced my concerns. How could I possibly come off as a bad girlfriend when I was willing to be with a convict? I thought monuments should be raised in my honor with a plaque below reading “Oh, this girl? She totally forgives you for your mistakes. And she bakes!”

When the convict and I split up for good, after two long years of on-again, off-again status I thought to myself Good Riddance! Maybe he told me he loved me and maybe I told him I loved him, but I didn’t really know any better. He was my first “love” and I was just obeying to the rules. Years have gone by and I know it was a good decision to split; however, sometimes I find myself thinking about him. The holidays remind me of all the people who have come in and out of my life. I recently couldn’t get my ex out of my mind so I messaged a friend of his on Facebook, asking if she is still in contact with him and what is he up to. She understood my request as curiosity and told me she hasn’t spoken with him for about a year but last she heard he is living a few towns over with his ex-wife and her kids. Fuck.


You’re right, you’re right, I know you’re right.

The moral of this story is you can’t compete with an ex-wife. These divorced men, not by their doing but hers, are damaged. The only person holding the First-Aid kit is their ex and no one else. I was convinced my ex would have forgotten how to function without me in his life. I’m naive and an idiot. Of course he got back together with her; she was the person he cheated on me with.

I strongly believe I need to re-evaluate my taste in men. 

Things I have said

Whether I said it in the middle of an argument, at work or in a passionate embrace, here is a list of the ridiculous things I have said.

When my FWB suggested I start seeing other men.

  • I feel like you are sending me on a scavenger hunt when I’ve already found the prize.

At work when discussing slang.

  • I had to use Urban Dictionary to look up what “shortie” means.
  • Let me just youtube a video of what twerking is.

In the heat of the moment; I killed that moment.

  • Look at my new ruffle butt underwear! I’ve wanted a pair of these since I was a kid.
  • Him: Did you remember to get your birth control? Me: Yes, but vote for Romney and you will take that right away from me.

During an interview with a marketing firm.

Me: I have a different style of writing, fun and sarcastic. Then again, when you blog you can say anything.

Him: You have a blog? (pulls up the internet on the big screen) What is the address?

Me: (flushed with red) Oh my god, no. It’s about dating.

Other guy: Oh, I love eating.


To customers coming through my grocery store line.

  • I thought you were wearing pajama pants for easy access.
  • How young is too young? (Said to a really hot 70 year-old man)
  • Do you mind if I rub this cilantro on my face? It’s so soft!
  • Oh my god, I love our chicken pot pies. They are so creamy. I love creamy things.
  • This sure is a lot of wine. Don’t worry, we don’t judge here.
  • I just think you are so sweet that I get light-headed when you are around. That is probably on the account of my diabetes.

To customers ordering beer at my station at a concert

Man: I need two beers.

Me: Are you thirsty?

Man: Ha, no. One is for my girlfriend.

(He takes his beers and walks away. 20 minutes pass and he comes back with his girlfriend.)

Man: (Points to girlfriend) This is my girlfriend.

Me: (acting shocked) You never told me you have a girlfriend!

Girlfriend: (slaps man) You’re sleeping in the dog house!


Man: Where is the restroom?

Me: (pointing to the ground beside me) Right here… I like to watch.

Man: (nervously) Heh. Okay.

Me: (pointing to actual bathrooms) Over there.

Manager: How do you like the job so far?

Me: I love it! I am really enjoying getting paid to flirt with men all night.


The Reason Rally and Sex Breakfast Tim


Where have I been for so long, you ask? I’ve been fricken’ busy that’s where.

My life became increasingly busy over the past couple of months to the point where updating my blog seemed like a chore. I have SO much to share with you and I think I’m going to do it in the most effective way…. by updating my blog once a week! Great idea, I know.

Last time I left you I was working at my new job, seeing my FWB A LOT, and basically loving life. Most of that still holds true. Most of it.

Let’s start with the best life-changing event I have ever been a part of, aside from attending President Obama’s inauguration. Same location, different reason; the reason: THE REASON RALLY!

On March 23rd I received an interesting text that would lead me to make a life-changing decision. I received a text from my FWB that read, “If you want to go to D.C. you should go now.” Confused, I text back “What? Why?” His response “Look it up on the internet.” Gee, thanks for that explanation. He never was one for words, or being chatty, or having clear communication at all.

Weeks prior I had expressed to my FWB my love of Washington D.C. I know what you’re thinking. The crime! The danger! Well, friends, I had been to D.C. exactly once before and I am in love. The architecture is amazing, the history is rich, and the atmosphere “seems” welcoming. Knowing all this my FWB casually informed me of a huge life-event that would be taking place on March 24th, 2012. The Reason Rally 2012. How have I never heard of this momentous event? Why didn’t my atheist friends tell me about it? Oh, I’m the only atheist in my group of friends? Never mind on the last question.

I became obsessed. Google + Reason Rally search = 5 hours of “work-time” consumed. I text my agnostic BGF (best gay friend) Matt, furiously, “YOU HAVE TO COME TO THE REASON RALLY WITH ME!” His response, “I have to work Saturday.” My practical advice, “Call in sick.” After much persuading he agreed to go.

Things quickly progressed. I had arranged to change my brakes on my car that night with my FWB, so I headed there after work. That was a terrible experience, by the way. We argued, put each other down, and rolled our eyes. I complained about getting my hands dirty. He complained about my unwillingness to work hard. It was awful. To top it all off, at one point a motor came crashing down off a high shelf and crushed my Blackberry. I cried. A lot.

SIDE NOTE: Don’t ever get a FWB that doesn’t enjoy your company outside of the bed.

Matt and I showed up at our pick-up location an hour early so we would be assured a good seat on the bus. That plan backfired once we found out the bus was going to be two hours late. TWO HOURS! Luckily, atheists are the coolest people you would ever meet, so I had a blast having intelligent, albeit sarcastic, conversation with fellow non-believers. The whole time I was standing there, in the rain, I just kept thinking how happy I was. These people shared my interests and I’ve never really had that before.


Waiting in the parking lot at 1 a.m. in the rain.

The crowd learned about me pretty quickly. What does that mean? Oh, just that I like to date men who are divorced, in their 30’s, and carry a lot of emotional baggage. With that comment, I got a bite. Enter Sex Breakfast Tim. Tim was in his late 30’s, from Chicago, divorced from his “whore of a wife” and has a 12 year-old daughter. He noticed me, I noticed him. He fit my criteria. I fit his criteria; I had a vagina. I assume that is all he was looking for. I will come back to Sex Breakfast Tim later.

Matt and I act like we are drunk on wine when we are around each other. Everyone on the 6 hour bus ride HATED us. We were loud, took pictures, and laughed…A LOT. When we finally arrived in D.C. Matt and I were exhausted from only getting an hour or two of bus sleep.


After HOURS of taking bus pictures we finally got photo bombed.

The Reason Rally was amazing. I read that over 30,000 people showed up for the rally, which is an incredible number to read, because as I was there I felt like there were only a few hundred people. Hilarious signs, fun conversation, and incredible atheist activists. Matt, Arianne (our friend from Philly), and myself stood in the rain for 5+ hours, listening to moving speeches, hilarious commentary, and uplifting remarks. At one point we left the rally to get coffee and I wore my “This is What an Atheist Looks Like” sign. I never felt so judged in my entire life. People stared, looked angrily in my direction. This HAS to change. It MUST change. A big saying of the day was “Out of the closet Atheist.” I am no longer going to be ashamed of my rational beliefs.


We represented our views!


Such an amazing day!


The weather was pretty miserable. But wow, what a day.

Boarding the bus, we were exhausted and wet but super excited we were part of something so huge. Once we arrived back in Akron Matt and I started saying our goodbyes. It was bittersweet. I was going to miss these incredible people. I exchanged numbers and email with Ellen, who would later open my life up to Cleveland Freethinkers. (Ellen and I are still great friends.)


Ellen introduced me to the Cleveland Freethinkers. I am eternally grateful for our friendship.

Just as I was about to hop into my car, where Matt had already settled into, Tim sauntered his way over to me. I threw my purse in at Matt, closed my door to where Matt could still hear what was going on. I knew what Tim wanted. I rather wanted it to.

Tim: Well, Jayne, I’m really glad I got to meet you and Matt.

Me: Oh, me too! We had a lot of fun. It’s too bad we didn’t get to hang out more.

Tim: Yeah, me too. You know, I have an idea. I don’t want to come off as…well, it’s just an idea. Don’t think I’m…okay, here is the idea. You know it’s been such a long day, and we didn’t get to really know each other. But I was thinking since I have such a long drive ahead of me that maybe, I mean, I don’t know your living situation, but maybe I could come over. I could come over…and take a shower, then we can talk or whatever…and… I would just really like to make you breakfast in the morning.

Me: (in shock, I hesitate a little) Oh wow. (I place my hand on his forearm) That sounds really nice, but I’m just crashing with a friend. It’s not even my place. That just sounds. SO. NICE.

Tim: Yeah, well. It was just an idea.

I gave Tim my number and email address. I still haven’t heard from him.

He would have showered, we would have “talked”, he would have made me shitty eggs in the morning, and he would have been gone forever.


By the way… here is Tim. In all his glory.

Close call…

Stage 5 Clinger

I know you’ve heard the term stage 5 clinger, but have you actually experienced a stage 5 clinger? Perhaps you are thinking to yourself who wouldn’t want to be adored? orI bet being worshiped would be a nice change of pace!Well let me tell you, you are terribly mistaken.

Have I mentioned I am on a dating website? Well I am. I am not proud of it…at all. I created my dating profile about a year ago after one depressing night of Etsy Wedding browsing. After a few guys started showing interest I shut down my profile. I do not use dating websites as a way to meet men. No. Instead I use dating websites to boost my confidence, to feel wanted or interesting again. After a few e-mail exchanges with a fella I will delete him. Thanks pal, but I have other men who want to shower me with compliments, both on looks AND writing style!

So maybe you are asking “But Jayne, why are you on a dating website right now? You have a FWB!” Of course having a FWB is an incredible boost of confidence and very fulfilling, (it’s not, it’s the opposite.) but some nights, as I’m walking into my apartment at an ungodly hour, smelling of sex and cigarettes, I feel lonely. Of course my “friend” urges me to continue searching for Mr. Right, while having fun with him, I just don’t feel like playing the field.. so I go onto my dating website. With a few new updates, aka I graduated college!, I am back in the ego-search.


A chart on the benefits of having a friend with benefits! Photo credit:

After a few failed conversations I received a message from Cameron. Cam was nice. His profile lacked creativity, interest, and mention of cats; however, I thought he seemed genuine. Cameron wrote to me so very poetically “Wow you are so beautiful wow your face is just so lovely.” Yep. Clearly he was so blown away by my beauty that he forget all about proper sentence structure and grammar rules. I thanked Cam for the ego boost, and within hours he gave me his number and the comment “I pray you text me.” Usually I reject accepting phone numbers from online daters. I simply keep communication limited to the dating website. This time around something was different. This time I was inspired to text Cameron on the hopes of him providing me with a good blog story. OH BUDDY, WAS I RIGHT! Cameron turned out to be a stage 5 clinger within two days of communication.

For your reading pleasure I have provided below the two day text exchange between me and Cameron. (Some boring parts have been edited out.)

Me: Your prayers have been answered, this is Jayne.

Cam: Oh wow I am happy now

Me: So what is your name?

(At this point I don’t know his actual name, just his dating profile name.)

Cam: Cameron nice to meet you angel

Cam: You are so very beautiful

**We exchange information, such as family size, college education, and music taste.

Cam: What do you do and I would like to say you are BEAUTIFUL once more

Me: I work in Recreation. And stop! No one is that pretty. I just take good pictures.

Cam: So damn beautiful like a bit of heaven on earth 🙂

Me: Goodness. But thanks.

Cam: Just you makes me happy

Me: So the big question. Why are you single?

(At this point I’m getting fed up and would really like him to make a genuine statement.)

Cam: I just don’t like anyone.Your the first since my wife

(!!!!!!!!WHAT!!!!!!!! (turns out he is widower…)

Cam: So tell me more about your beautiful self

Me: Well, I have a low self-esteem.

(I’m attempting to scare him off at this point.)

Cam: Well I’d like to build you up and support you and if you would give me a chance and I’d love to change your luck with guys by being the guy in your life

Me: That’s a bold statement! I appreciate what you’re saying, but let’s take this a little slower.

Cam: I agree I’m just a straight forward person I don’t beat around the bush that’s all

(You also think there is a monetary charge if you use commas/punctuation in texting.)

Cam then goes on about how many hours he works in a week and I comment on how exhausting that would be.

Cam:It is and I work lots of extra days but I’m done doing that I decided I want to start dating I want a nice girl to share my time with

(And share her skin?)

Cam: So how are you so lovely

Me: I’m not! I have you fooled.

Cam: Well I find you beautiful and amazing

Me: You don’t even know me!

Cam: Look I know enough to like you and your beautiful like the stars

Me: Maybe we can get coffee and I prove to you I’m a slob and awkward.

Cam: Or maybe you can fall for me


Cam: A man can hope

(What men hope a girl will fall for them on one date?)

Me: Hey, my phone is dying. TTYL.

Cam: Ok talk to you later beautiful ill be waiting


Cam (two hours later): Hi

Me: Sorry, going to bed now.

Cam: Well night beautiful I hope to hear back from you as soon as possible 🙂 Good night lovely

Cam (next day): Hi beautiful

Me: Hi Cam.

Cam: Woke up early hoping I had a text from you

Me: I’m at work.

Cam: Its ok so I can’t get your lovely face out of my mind 🙂

Me:… I think you are very kind, but you are coming on a little strong.

Cam: Sorry. I just like you and that’s a first since my wife I have no clue how the dating game works anymore I’m sorry look if you want ill leave you alone

(I ignored his text)

Cam (8 hours later): Hi

Cam (9 hours later): Hi

….Annnnnd he’s gone. For now.

Never have I experienced someone so terrifying. Complimenting is very nice. Over-complimenting is disingenuous and creepy. I’m going to keep Cameron in my phone for another week just in case he tries to text me again, and I won’t make the mistake of asking “Who is this?”

By the way, check out THIS text stalker I stumbled upon on Buzzfeed. It is frightening and awesome.

Foaming-at-the-Mouth Romance

Like I’ve said before, when it comes to crushes I usually get what I want. When I was studying my associate’s at a local community/tech college I never thought about dating. I was serious about my education, and even more serious about NOT dating someone going to a community college.

My program was Administration Technology but it could have also been calledProfessional Secretary School. I studied keyboarding (see it in action now!!), how to create properly formatted business-y letters, and the Microsoft Office suite. I enjoyed my program but I did not enjoy being surrounded by chicks. Sure their gossip was entertaining, but I was craving the attention of a dude, someone with masculine traits.

During the first week of classes I noticed a fella in my Business Ethics class, the only class not entirely made up of females. The fella, Josh, wore a backwards cap, slightly baggy jeans, and band t-shirts. “He likes Death Cab for Cutie! He’s perfect!” My criteria to be met for the perfect guy was limited to band tastes.

Josh also kind of looked like Ben Gibbard of Death Cab For Cutie. This would cause me to play their cd on repeat for weeks.

I would stare at the back of Josh’s head during the entire class-period. I daydreamed of cuddling in his (probably) twin-sized bed, going toHot Topic together, and studying cases on ethical business. One day after class I smiled at Josh. That’s all it took. He walked me out to my car and we exchanged Myspace names. You read that correctly. Myspace. Once Josh was in his car and driving away I quickly jumped out of my car and ran inside. I HAD ANOTHER CLASS! I set up the entire “Oh, won’t you walk me out to my car at 2 in the afternoon? It can be dicey this time of day.” situation. That evening there was Josh’s friend request. I quickly accepted and there was my sweet babboo waiting to chat with me. Our conversation progressed rather quickly, to be expected on Myspace. Josh told me sweet nothings of how he could picture us watching Conan O’Brian together, snuggled in his bed, going to hockey games (who knew I LOVED hockey just as much as he did! I lied.), and just hanging out with a cool chick. He daydreams were PERFECT to me. His idea of a good time was also my idea of a good time.

Doin' my best Myspace face.

Finally, after a week of flirting in class, Josh asked me out on Myspace. He had mentioned to me he was low on cash and would I mind going to Wendy’s for dinner then to the Dollar movie theater? Of course I didn’t mind! What an insanely indie cool date to have with a guy. (Back then this was a perfectly acceptable date. Today-hell no.) We decided to go after class, which prompted me to skip the class I had after our ethics class. Clearly there was nothing ethical about that decision. Zing! I was incredibly nervous on my date with Josh. My stomach was turning, I was hot, and I couldn’t speak at all. All I ordered from the large selection on the Wendy’s dollar menu was chicken nuggets and a small Frosty. Josh ordered fries, Frosty, and a Jr. bacon cheeseburger. I started noticing Josh. How gross he was…

Not okay for a first date, okay?

He smacked his lips. He got food all over his face when he ate. He was a heavy breather. He didn’t carry a conversation very well at all. He wasn’t that cute close up. that…no. Does he have…foamy white shit in the corner of his mouth. FUUUUUUUCK.

I couldn’t believe the low opinion I formed of Josh in the 20 minutes of eating at Wendy’s. We had to go, though, to make our movie, Just Friends. The irony of the movie didn’t NOT phase me. Josh edged his hand towards mine in the theater, but still afraid to be touched by a boy I jammed my free hand into the pocket of my hoodie. (I wore a hoodie on the first date!? Oh Jayne.) As much as I tried to enjoy the movie I just kept thinking about Josh wanting to kiss me at the end of the date. We left the theater remarking on how hilarious the movie was (I own it and I am STILL amazed at how hilarious it is) and I asked Josh to drive me back to my car, which was parked at Cord Camera.

When we got to Cord Camera I unbuckled my seat beat, thanked Josh for a great evening, and opened my door. I could see Josh unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. I panicked. I ran. I RAN TO MY CAR. As I hurriedly opened my car door I screamed “THANKS!” in the most horrendous voice. I could not let the mouth-foamer kiss me! I got sick thinking of his foamy white spit getting into my mouth as we exchanged tongues. Pulling out of my parking spot I noticed Josh, confused, slowly getting back into his car.

A literal example of what I thought would happen to me if I were to kiss the mouth-foamer.

Josh and I stuck out the rest of Business Ethics that quarter. We even had to work on a group project together, where I found out he was incredibly dumb. We parted our ways for summer. Then…he called. He wanted a second date. Feeling vulnerable I decided to give him a second chance because maybe I was wrong about him. We met at a bowling ally for Round 2. Realizing we had an hour to kill before the ally opened I suggested we go to Barnes and Noble. Getting a peak at his literature taste would prove to me if I made a mistake. NOPE. No mistake there. The first book he picked up was about infamous murders. No thanks, pal. We got back to the bowling ally with a half-hour to spare. I apologized to Josh, telling him how I babysat that day and I was EXHAUSTED! I lied. Josh’s spit was in full swing that day and I just couldn’t bear to see him anymore. We parted ways. Forever.

I should have never written Josh off so quickly. He was the only guy who ever shared an interest in actually being my boyfriend. But could I look past the foamy mouth? No.

Factory-Made Romance

I used to work in a car manufacturing factory. My stint in the auto industry lasted me 4 fulfilling months, where I learned I could maybe be loved again someday.

When I set my eyes on a guy I find attractive I usually get what I want. It doesn’t take me very long to get the attention of my crush, batting my eyelashes, laughing at his hilarious (offensive!) jokes, showing interest in his “band.” Men love to be complimented and I am a pro at doing it.

I went into work one day, feeling pretty good about looking good in jeans, t-shirt, and steel-toe boots. Not very many people can rock that look. Going into the section of the plant my crew worked we found out our machine would be shut down for the day, and we were moved to another part of the factory to work on a new car part.

Working, I noticed a young man I hadn’t seen before driving around my work area on a fork-lift. He was very attractive, dark hair, goatee, red t-shirt. He waved at someone he knew, flashed an adorable smile. Luckily I was working next to a Drew Carey-like fella that the fork-lift driver knew, so when he stopped to talk to his friend I was pleased.Drew moved* on to another part of the machine around the corner and I took over for him. Goatee stuck around, chatting with me about music, working at the factory, and general niceties. I was smitten. My entire crew could tell I was smitten.

This should read "Caution: If you don't look both ways before crossing in a factory one of these can rip your body in half. Don't you remember that safety video they showed you in orientation? The one that horrified you so much you had to step out of the conference room and run to the bathroom and splash water on your face? Be careful, girl!"

For the course of three weeks Goatee and I talked any chance we could. When he would get a break from lifting stuff he would drive over to my section and talk with me. Usually our conversations contained me yelling over the machine and him laughing at me making potentially dangerous mistakes in car parts. On my lunch-break I would text Goatee to come sit with me, and like a well-trained puppy he would comply. I was excited to be getting so much attention from practically a stranger. I was excited to go into work every day, looking forward to seeing my new friend.

If there is one thing I learned from When Harry Met Sally besides Billy Crystal (was) is a fox, is that men and women can’t just be friends. I knew Goatee would eventually want to hook up, or at least fool around. I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but I hadn’t been with anyone since Felon. You remember him, right? I was scared to make a move with Goatee. He showed me he was interested but I didn’t know how to cautiously react. I was scared of getting hurt, scared of being a factory whore, scared in general.

One day, towards the end of our shift I got a text from Goatee. He told me he was getting off his shift soon and he was going to come over and see me. I text back with an adorable emoticon, which spoke more of my intelligence and playful attitude I’m sure. Goatee then responded with a text that made my heart race, a text that my eyes didn’t want to believe. He typed something to the effect (this was years ago, I can’t really remember) of “What would you do if I were to kiss you?” I couldn’t stop smiling, rereading the text to make sure I wasn’t reading “I hate you, you smell.” I replied with “I would be happy.” Soon I saw Goatee walking towards me, smiling. My heart was racing, I couldn’t breath, I was trembling. The bell rang signaling the end of our shift. I didn’t know what to do so I asked Goatee to walk with me to the restroom. Like a good puppy he complied. He walked me to the top of the stairwell to the restroom and I began to descend the stairs. Suddenly, without another thought, I turned around and looked up to Goatee. I heard myself say “Come down here and kiss me.” as i pointed to my lips (just so there was no misunderstanding??) He walked down the steps, pulled me close, and kissed me passionately. I opened my eyes and smiled at him. He belted out nervously “I have to go put my fork-lift away!” and walked up the stairs.

Who knew a restroom could be the site of romance?

I couldn’t believe what just happened. I was JUST kissed in a car factory. It was romantic, silly, and perfect. Goatee and I fooled around for the remainder of my time at the factory. We still keep in touch through drunken-texts and the courtesy of Facebook.

*FYI: In a(n) (American) factory everything is set up to be ergonomically correct. You work in rotation, so you are never in one area for more than 15 minutes.

A Review: I Don’t Care About Your Band

About a month ago I went out to dinner with my number one gal pal Kerry. I needed a friend to confide in about a situation I got myself into; I found myself suddenly taking on the role of a “friend with benefits” with a new friend. I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about this new role so I needed my girl to talk me down off a ledge. The ledge being my leap from dignity. I asked questions such as:

“Am I making a huge mistake?”

“Can two people really be friends with benefits, without one getting hurt?”

“Do you think this is something I am capable of doing?”

“Are you judging me?”

Kerry offered me great insight on the situation. I felt relieved she didn’t think less of me, and she actually made me laugh about my panic. If there is ever one friend I need in a panicked-like situation it’s Kerry. She has the ability to make even my most heinous moments seem silly after discussion, which for that I am grateful.

I often get wrapped up in my little world, over analyzing each detail, worrying about what I must seem like from the outside.

After much discussion of “what ifs” with Kerry she made a recommendation of a book I should read. I had no idea how much this book would mean to me until I finished. The book: I Don’t Care About Your Band by Julie Klausner.

I Don't Care about Your Band- Julie Klausner

Kerry has never steered me wrong when it has come to books, her talent of knowing exactly what I will like still amazes me after 8 years.

Like Klausner, my dating life has been a mismatch of losers, making my want to find love grow stronger after each mistake. Klausner’s book was not an advice column or a self-help book for dating. Her book was, for me, a great pool of laughs and comfort. I found comfort in knowing there is someone else out there that suffered through bad sex, bad dates, and bad guys in general, too. Take for example this quote that actually led to me putting the book down in disbelief on how similar we are.

“There are ladies who hook up instead of date because those are the crumbs to feast on when they are starving. Women who feel awful because they knew a guy was bad news, but got involved anyway, then got attached, and now they feel terrible not just because biology kicked in– “I had an orgasm and I like him now!”– but because they feel bad for feeling bad. Like it wasn’t enough just to feel bad because he didn’t call you after his dick was inside you. Now you have to feel bad because you’re not allowed to feel bad.”

Amen sister! I am feasting on crumbs because I crave attention and intimacy. I feel bad for feeling bad for the situation I have gotten myself into, knowing very well what the situation was/is.

“You stop confiding in people when they ask why you’re upset, because you don’t want to enter a debate on a side you can’t defend. You feel like you were wrong taking a chance on a guy you should’ve known couldn’t give you what you wanted, and in a way, you feel you deserved what you got.”

When I first started getting together with my friend he clearly stated what the situation was. Friends only. Nothing more. Nothing less. Well I thought that was something I could handle so I got involved. Now I am getting what I deserve.

“You didn’t follow the rules and you failed to act like a hooker who just shrugs and moves on to the next conquest, like those are the only two things a girl can do.”

No, I’m not a hooker. I do not receive pay for services rendered, nor do I get treated to lavish dinners and spontaneous friendly phone calls. That is not the situation. Mine is tricky, where trying to be devoid of any emotion is making looking in the mirror every day difficult. I deserve so much more, but I should be able to shrug is off, right?

Klausner writes chapter after chapter of the men she has been sexually or emotionally involved with. Each story is funnier than the last, and sometimes confusing and heart breaking. I provided you with only a sample of what Klausner addressed in her book. I HIGHLY recommend the book to any woman who has had a tragic dating experience, needs a good laugh, and doesn’t want to feel alone. After reading I Don’t Care About Your Band I found solace in knowing I am not alone.

Oh, in case you were wondering, will I continue to see my friend? Yes. At this point the experience is providing me with terrific commentary.