Finally, I arrive in Rhode Island, surrounded by friends, beer, and a hot tub. I tell my Neil Diamond Guy tale, and my guy friends, of course, laugh at me. We then proceed to have the time of our lives, and I periodically check my phone - all quiet on the pyscho front. Phew. After a delightfully drunk evening, me and my friend Matty go to bed. I take a flying leap at the bed, miss it completely, go flying through the air, and crash into the wall. Laughing, I hop into bed and check my phone. There it was. I say "oh no, Matt."
What does it say?
"I know you asked me to not contact you tonight, but I just wanted you to know I missed you."
We then both laugh our asses off at this guy and go to sleep.
I wake up the next day, hungover but determined to not take anymore crap from NDG. I go hiking at the purgatory chasm, I am feeling great, and head home. I ignore all things NDG, which includes my phone, and the internet. By friday, I think Neil Diamond guy starts to lose it. I stayed in because I had a cold, took some Nyquil, and proceed to get baraged by 25 completely desperate and insane, but unresponded to text messages, before I finally send "you are crazy. Never, ever, ever, ever call, text, anything me again."
I, who was on a two week vaction from work, and in this time, Hurricane Katrina hit. The obvious horror of what was happening to those people and no reason to not watch TV kind of turned me into an insomniac. So, when my phone rings with a CT number, I answer it, thinking its a friend from college. Its about 2 am.
"Sheila"
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh NO! I have picked up a drunk dial from Neil Diamond guy!
Me: "Oh, great, its you."
NDG: "hehehhahahahaha! Wow! Thats nice! Oh, great its me! Happy to hear from me? You sound surprised!"
"Are you drunk?"
NDG: "Nooooo. So, I noticed you stopped talking to me. I'm sorry if I was a little forward, its just that I am one of those "go-er" people! You see something you like, you just go for it! And I understand that you may not want to have a relationship with me, but I really liked you as a person and I'm sorry my being the way I am ruined that. Can I still know you as a person? Because you are pretty great."
I, once again, feel bad for this guy. Feel that maybe I was too hard on him, and soften. So I say
"ok. you arent a bad person, there was just too much all at once. If you would like to be friends, maybe we can meet for coffee sometime (lie, but at least he can walk away with dignity)"
NDG: Great! How about Sunday???"
Me: Ahh, busy sunday. But soon.
NDG: Sheila, can I say something else?
Me: sure, say whatever you need to.
NDG: Well, (laughs like a lunatic)well, I just wish I knew how you felt before we went out
Me: You wish you knew how I felt before our first date?
NDG: Yeah! Because if I knew how you felt about me, I wouldnt have taken you out. I mean, you are a real asshole to let me take you out, spend all that money on you, if you knew you didnt like me. I mean, dont you think you were just a little bit of an (insert: not-nice word for a donkey) to have done that?"
I am sitting upright in bed. Furious. Boiling. Outraged.
Me: "no, I dont"
NDG: "Oh, you dont. Well, thats funny. Because, you know what? at least I dont give up on love. You have issues, I can tell. But you know what? Sometimes you just have to push that aside before a great A GREAT GUY like me, passes you by! What do you have to say to that?"
Me: (angry fire breathing)
NDG: I suppose you need to sleep on this. I'll let you go, I'll call you tomorrow.
Me: Oh, no, actually, let me take care of this right here. Let me help you out. I want to help you, should you ever want a girlfriend EVER. There are things, simple things that girls dont like. You dont know anything about me, so you can assume whatever you want. I dont know anything about you other then friggin crazy. So, assume what you want, but these are facts, call them lessons, for you to take forward. 1. Dont call a girl up at 2 in the morning and try to pretend like you arent drunk; 2. girls dont owe you shit on a date, EVER, 3. Dont call girls who actually endure a date with you an (not nice word for a donkey) and 4. any "issues" I have that you invented in your head to justify your pyschotic behavior dont exist. Just like how we dont exist - I dont even know your last name
NDG (interupts me): I would have told you my last name if you asked me!!!!!!!
ME: I DONT CARE WHAT YOUR LAST NAME IS! You can call me again tomorrow when I've "cooled down", you hyprocritical pig, but I guarantee you, I wont ANSWER!"
And hung up.
Next night, I am at my parents house, and he calls. I dont answer. So, he sends me a text, that said "I did what you asked, I called you. Looking forward to making up."
And that was it. Or was it????
No, it wasnt.
One year later, I am going about my business, and get a text from an unknown number. I open it, and it says "Well, its been a year. I figured it'd be okay to contact you. Can we talk?"
Shudder.
Two years later, I am down at the Boston Marathon on Copley, to see my sister finish the race. I am trying to get as close as I can to my family that was there, when I hear "Sheila?"
Turn around, its Neil Diamond Guy. And I say, "Oh, hell no!" And hop the jersey barrior right there on boylston, and run straight across the street, climb over the next jersey barrier, and keep running.
And that is the tale of Neil Diamond Guy, the guy who lost his mind in under a week, and who's last name I still dont know to this day.
Up Next: The Guy Who Hit on Me at a Pig Roast, who turns out to be a quasi-co-worker and who writes absurd emails
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Ain't enough Sequins on Neil's Jacket to Save this Date
After about fifteen minutes from when I watched Neil Diamond guy wake up this guy sleeping in front of the garden and they trot off together, he comes back with two tickets to the show, and exclaims "I knew my boy wouldnt let me down."
I translate this in my brain to read: "I convinced this poor homeless guy to help me scalp tickets or SOMETHING that in any way makes sense"
So, we go into the show. He offers to get me a beer, which, and this is a first at any concert or sports event, I decline. Keepin my wits about me is of great importance at this time. A Neil Diamond concert deserves its own blog, by the way, its that awesome. The concert was also most enjoyable part of the date, mainly because it was so loud I didnt have to listen to NDG, AND if I had to get away from him trying to hold my hand, or do the SO concert stance of standing behind me with his hands on my hips while we sway to the music - well, there is the bathroom and my overwhelming need to just DANCE! Nothin like a concert to ignore the person you are with.
So, concert ends, my car is at work, and seeing as how I was sober and just wanted it to end, I offer to drive NDG home, as it was on the way. He asks me about my for a good night kiss, and I laugh at him. I say, "thanks for dinner" (go to give him a hand shake and a hug)
"haha. hand shake and a hug is all I get, ok.."
Me (blood is boiled, face was red, knuckles were white):
"What did you just say?"
NDG whimpers: "Oh no."
I leave him, pretty confident thats it. I get home, get in bed, and start reflecting on my night, and about the lesson the universe was sending me: rushing into things with the first guy that comes along is never worth it. Ever. Resting back on my pillows, I sigh about my restored wisdom when it comes to close encounters of the pyscho kind. "Thank God thats over", I say to myself, and settle in for a long nights sleep.
"Ring, Ring, Ring" says my phone.
"Please God, dont let it be him. PLease God"
Its him, of course. About a half hour has gone by since I dropped him off.
Me: "Hello?"
NDG: "I just wanted to make sure you were ok." (aww)
Me: I did, thanks. Thanks for the concert and dinner, just get ready to go to sleep."
NDG: "Can we talk?"
Sidebar: Here's why I talked to this guy, or even picked up the phone. I talked to this guy because girls have an absurd notion that "whats goes around comes back around" when it comes to dating. It doesn't, of course, but we really do identify with losers like this guy who are so pathetic and just crazy that you could never, ever, ever, ever be attracted to them, because we think that this is what all of the guys whoever blew us off thought of US. So, by "doing the right thing" and not just outright ignoring this guy, I was essentially correcting all love wrongs I myself had ever endured. This, of course, isnt the way to go with a crazy person, but I refused to be "that guy". I am pretty sure guys like Neil Diamond guy are aware of this female problem and this is how they have survived in the game of love as long as they have. I mean, this guy cleary felt entitled to spread his crazy love around, never thought twice about. Bear in mind that the clock on Neil Diamond guy at this point is four days. Four days, I just got home from a six hour, very "not good" date with this guy, and here he is, calling me a half hour later.
But, I digress.
So, we talk, for anouther half hour. I tell NDG he's a great person, but it just may not work, but lets slow it down a bit. Like, to a snail crawl. I then commit the cardinal dating sin of evoking boyfriends and guys I dated - including the one I was trying to get over. "Its not you, its me" is superfically employed, and I go to bed relieved.
That should have done it.
8 am (and I was on vacation this week, btw), phone goes off. Its him. Let it go to voicemail, and then listen to his tirade about losing the tickets, and how "he also had a VIP pass to some yaught party that he wanted to invite me to, and how much it sucked he lost them. He then says, okay, call you on my lunch break!"
Oh God.
I make some coffee, go to check my email, log on to IM and I'm telling my friend Lauren all about the worst date ever, when I hear the intro "to start me up" by the Stones, which frightened me a bit and a new massage from some cippisisidmike or something.
"Hey, whats up! Isnt it great that we can talk on IM too? What are you doing?"
Me to Lauren "You are not going to effing believe this - he JUST IM -
(Start Me Up!)cippsisdimike: Wanna hang out tonight?
Lauren to Me: Huh? You got cut off what'd you write?"
Me to Lauren: He just IM -
(START ME UP) cippsisdmike: You there??
Me to Lauren: Jesus Christ. What do I do?
Me to cippsisdimike: I cant. Remember, I told you I am going to Rhode Island to hang out with some friends."
(START ME UP): Oh, OK. Want me to come? I'd like to meet your friends.
Me to cippsisdimike: gotta go
And I jump off line.
I call my friend Beth, tell her I am heading down to Rhode Island and Holy Shit wait til she hears my story. I receive several texts from NDG, and to which I finally respond by calling him, and I say:
"I am hanging out with my friends tonight. I do not, repeat, do not, want to hear from you. Okay? Please, this is too much."
NDG: Hehaha (same laugh as when I called him a pathalogical liar, by the way)ehehaha, absense makes the heart grow fonder, I get it. Have fun with your friends, especially the guys"
Me: "whatever. Bye!"
Come back for NGD Part Four, The End (or is it)?
I translate this in my brain to read: "I convinced this poor homeless guy to help me scalp tickets or SOMETHING that in any way makes sense"
So, we go into the show. He offers to get me a beer, which, and this is a first at any concert or sports event, I decline. Keepin my wits about me is of great importance at this time. A Neil Diamond concert deserves its own blog, by the way, its that awesome. The concert was also most enjoyable part of the date, mainly because it was so loud I didnt have to listen to NDG, AND if I had to get away from him trying to hold my hand, or do the SO concert stance of standing behind me with his hands on my hips while we sway to the music - well, there is the bathroom and my overwhelming need to just DANCE! Nothin like a concert to ignore the person you are with.
So, concert ends, my car is at work, and seeing as how I was sober and just wanted it to end, I offer to drive NDG home, as it was on the way. He asks me about my for a good night kiss, and I laugh at him. I say, "thanks for dinner" (go to give him a hand shake and a hug)
"haha. hand shake and a hug is all I get, ok.."
Me (blood is boiled, face was red, knuckles were white):
"What did you just say?"
NDG whimpers: "Oh no."
I leave him, pretty confident thats it. I get home, get in bed, and start reflecting on my night, and about the lesson the universe was sending me: rushing into things with the first guy that comes along is never worth it. Ever. Resting back on my pillows, I sigh about my restored wisdom when it comes to close encounters of the pyscho kind. "Thank God thats over", I say to myself, and settle in for a long nights sleep.
"Ring, Ring, Ring" says my phone.
"Please God, dont let it be him. PLease God"
Its him, of course. About a half hour has gone by since I dropped him off.
Me: "Hello?"
NDG: "I just wanted to make sure you were ok." (aww)
Me: I did, thanks. Thanks for the concert and dinner, just get ready to go to sleep."
NDG: "Can we talk?"
Sidebar: Here's why I talked to this guy, or even picked up the phone. I talked to this guy because girls have an absurd notion that "whats goes around comes back around" when it comes to dating. It doesn't, of course, but we really do identify with losers like this guy who are so pathetic and just crazy that you could never, ever, ever, ever be attracted to them, because we think that this is what all of the guys whoever blew us off thought of US. So, by "doing the right thing" and not just outright ignoring this guy, I was essentially correcting all love wrongs I myself had ever endured. This, of course, isnt the way to go with a crazy person, but I refused to be "that guy". I am pretty sure guys like Neil Diamond guy are aware of this female problem and this is how they have survived in the game of love as long as they have. I mean, this guy cleary felt entitled to spread his crazy love around, never thought twice about. Bear in mind that the clock on Neil Diamond guy at this point is four days. Four days, I just got home from a six hour, very "not good" date with this guy, and here he is, calling me a half hour later.
But, I digress.
So, we talk, for anouther half hour. I tell NDG he's a great person, but it just may not work, but lets slow it down a bit. Like, to a snail crawl. I then commit the cardinal dating sin of evoking boyfriends and guys I dated - including the one I was trying to get over. "Its not you, its me" is superfically employed, and I go to bed relieved.
That should have done it.
8 am (and I was on vacation this week, btw), phone goes off. Its him. Let it go to voicemail, and then listen to his tirade about losing the tickets, and how "he also had a VIP pass to some yaught party that he wanted to invite me to, and how much it sucked he lost them. He then says, okay, call you on my lunch break!"
Oh God.
I make some coffee, go to check my email, log on to IM and I'm telling my friend Lauren all about the worst date ever, when I hear the intro "to start me up" by the Stones, which frightened me a bit and a new massage from some cippisisidmike or something.
"Hey, whats up! Isnt it great that we can talk on IM too? What are you doing?"
Me to Lauren "You are not going to effing believe this - he JUST IM -
(Start Me Up!)cippsisdimike: Wanna hang out tonight?
Lauren to Me: Huh? You got cut off what'd you write?"
Me to Lauren: He just IM -
(START ME UP) cippsisdmike: You there??
Me to Lauren: Jesus Christ. What do I do?
Me to cippsisdimike: I cant. Remember, I told you I am going to Rhode Island to hang out with some friends."
(START ME UP): Oh, OK. Want me to come? I'd like to meet your friends.
Me to cippsisdimike: gotta go
And I jump off line.
I call my friend Beth, tell her I am heading down to Rhode Island and Holy Shit wait til she hears my story. I receive several texts from NDG, and to which I finally respond by calling him, and I say:
"I am hanging out with my friends tonight. I do not, repeat, do not, want to hear from you. Okay? Please, this is too much."
NDG: Hehaha (same laugh as when I called him a pathalogical liar, by the way)ehehaha, absense makes the heart grow fonder, I get it. Have fun with your friends, especially the guys"
Me: "whatever. Bye!"
Come back for NGD Part Four, The End (or is it)?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Neil Diamond Guy, Part Two - Neil Makes a Grown Man Cry
Cont..........
Let's fast forward thru dinner. NDG's friend was our waiter, by the way, and NGD gets a lot of joy by showing him the "tickets" (aka papers) to the show. We finish our sandwiches, the bottle of wine we split, and start walking towards the T, as Neil Diamond Guy regals me with stories of his 15 never happened trips to South America. We encounter an "artist" with a kid looming behind him, who begs us to stop and listen to his jive or poetry or whatever the hell it was. Being the kind of guy he is (an idiot), NDG grabs my hand, and actually starts "keeping the beat" by thumping his hand against his hip as the guy is going thru he is poem. The guy then of course asks for money, NDG gives him some, we continue to the T. Not that I'm above giving someone money, but at a certain point you can see who is in need and who is clearly on drugs. And, you dont really need to subject a date to that, especially with the menancing guy behind the "poet". We get past that, and then, while waiting for the T, NGD starts frantically patting his pockets. FRANTIC. I ask him whats wrong, and he says "the tickets! I had them, and I dont have them anymore! What am I going to dooooo??? I work so hard, and I save up for moments like this, like Neil Diamond, and to take a special girl to see them, and then, all of a sudden, they are gone??? WHY????"
Me (damage control): Ok, let's just go back, retrace your steps, and I'm sure we will find them. Its okay"
NDG: Ok. Okay, okay, you are right. Ok. Listen, you stay here. I'll be back."
AND BOOKS it down Boylston Street. Like fing lightening.
I am at a crossroads. I can leave. He may not come back, after all. But, I know he will come back, and I just cant do that to a person (why I dont feel bad about blogging this story will be more then justified later). So, I wait. NDG comes back 20 minutes later, no tickets. He grabs my hand and says, "well, we are just going to have to get some tickets. Come on"
We get on the T, and this is where he does the unthinkable. We sit down, and he says "I just dont know why these things have to happen to me" and starts to whimper, and puts his head on MY shoulder!!!! This guy is crying in my LAP, about lost NEIL DIAMOND TICKETS!!!!
I go into survival mode, likely mixed with a little Stokholme syndrome, at the Garden and I start planning my escape by placating Neil Diamond Guy. I stop at the first scalper we see, and he says he only has one ticket. I say, "we'll take it! YOU, stay RIGHT here, I'm going to the ATM! STAY! YOU STAY! I WANT THAT TICKET!"
I drag a forelorn NDG to the ATM, take out whatever money I have too to get this loser a ticket to effing Neil Diamond, while saying "you know what? Neil Diamond Guy? I had a great time with you. I am going to buy you this ticket, because it really sucks that you were so looking forward to it and lost the tickets (that you CLEARLY never bought in the first place), so please, let me buy you this ticket, and call me tomorrow and tell me all about it! Okay??"
NDG: I cant let you do that. I promised you Neil.
Me: Oh, no, seriously, it matters more to you. Thank you for dinner, please let me buy this ticket for you!
NDG: (takes both hands) "Sheila,I promised you Neil Diamond, and we are going to Neil Diamond."
Out of the corner of his eye, or whatever he sees in his crazy world, NDG points at a (homeless maybe?) person SLEEPING outside of the garden, trots off, and says, "hey, dont worry, I know this guy!!!!! From my Newbury Comics days! He'll hook us up!!!!!!"
Me: "F word"
Come back for part three.............
Let's fast forward thru dinner. NDG's friend was our waiter, by the way, and NGD gets a lot of joy by showing him the "tickets" (aka papers) to the show. We finish our sandwiches, the bottle of wine we split, and start walking towards the T, as Neil Diamond Guy regals me with stories of his 15 never happened trips to South America. We encounter an "artist" with a kid looming behind him, who begs us to stop and listen to his jive or poetry or whatever the hell it was. Being the kind of guy he is (an idiot), NDG grabs my hand, and actually starts "keeping the beat" by thumping his hand against his hip as the guy is going thru he is poem. The guy then of course asks for money, NDG gives him some, we continue to the T. Not that I'm above giving someone money, but at a certain point you can see who is in need and who is clearly on drugs. And, you dont really need to subject a date to that, especially with the menancing guy behind the "poet". We get past that, and then, while waiting for the T, NGD starts frantically patting his pockets. FRANTIC. I ask him whats wrong, and he says "the tickets! I had them, and I dont have them anymore! What am I going to dooooo??? I work so hard, and I save up for moments like this, like Neil Diamond, and to take a special girl to see them, and then, all of a sudden, they are gone??? WHY????"
Me (damage control): Ok, let's just go back, retrace your steps, and I'm sure we will find them. Its okay"
NDG: Ok. Okay, okay, you are right. Ok. Listen, you stay here. I'll be back."
AND BOOKS it down Boylston Street. Like fing lightening.
I am at a crossroads. I can leave. He may not come back, after all. But, I know he will come back, and I just cant do that to a person (why I dont feel bad about blogging this story will be more then justified later). So, I wait. NDG comes back 20 minutes later, no tickets. He grabs my hand and says, "well, we are just going to have to get some tickets. Come on"
We get on the T, and this is where he does the unthinkable. We sit down, and he says "I just dont know why these things have to happen to me" and starts to whimper, and puts his head on MY shoulder!!!! This guy is crying in my LAP, about lost NEIL DIAMOND TICKETS!!!!
I go into survival mode, likely mixed with a little Stokholme syndrome, at the Garden and I start planning my escape by placating Neil Diamond Guy. I stop at the first scalper we see, and he says he only has one ticket. I say, "we'll take it! YOU, stay RIGHT here, I'm going to the ATM! STAY! YOU STAY! I WANT THAT TICKET!"
I drag a forelorn NDG to the ATM, take out whatever money I have too to get this loser a ticket to effing Neil Diamond, while saying "you know what? Neil Diamond Guy? I had a great time with you. I am going to buy you this ticket, because it really sucks that you were so looking forward to it and lost the tickets (that you CLEARLY never bought in the first place), so please, let me buy you this ticket, and call me tomorrow and tell me all about it! Okay??"
NDG: I cant let you do that. I promised you Neil.
Me: Oh, no, seriously, it matters more to you. Thank you for dinner, please let me buy this ticket for you!
NDG: (takes both hands) "Sheila,I promised you Neil Diamond, and we are going to Neil Diamond."
Out of the corner of his eye, or whatever he sees in his crazy world, NDG points at a (homeless maybe?) person SLEEPING outside of the garden, trots off, and says, "hey, dont worry, I know this guy!!!!! From my Newbury Comics days! He'll hook us up!!!!!!"
Me: "F word"
Come back for part three.............
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Worst Date Ever - Neil Diamond Guy, Part One
All aboard the crazy train, here come's the tale of Neil Diamond guy.
One ill fated friday night in August of 2006, I ventured out to Game On. While waiting for my Buddy to arrive, I start chatting with the bartender/pizza maker. As I was coming off of a dating "thing" with Captain Conventional, I was taken with his Elvis Costello glasses and tales of wanting to write a book about politics from a dog's perspective. These days, I would immediately know I hate this guy, but I was young then, and lookin to forget anouther guy. Neil Diamond guy appeared to be very smart, alternative boy quirky (the correct amount of which is very good, TOO much is very,very,very bad),funny, my AGE, and cute. Most importantly, he was the exact opposite of the last guy I dated, so woo-effing-hoo, Game on!! He tells me he has tickets to the Neil Diamond show the following Tuesday, and asks me if I'd like to go - which of course I did, its effing NEIL DIAMOND! I drop the digits, go on my merry way, and say to myself, "hey, I liked that guy! How great! See? There is life after (other guy)".
So around 11:30 I get a call from an unknown number while I am next door at the Cask. It was Neil Diamond guy, and he wanted to hang out. Which, we did, but not at the Cask because he hated it there, but at some foo-foofy place, and I'm starting to think....hmmm....a tad bit too much "I hate anything remotely mainstream insofar that I can't appreciate the inherent greatness of a dive bar (which I love)", but I say, give him a chance. And, maybe because I was already imbibed, I enjoyed the round I had with him and went home.
I wake up saturday morning prepared to go about my day and to my niece's birthday party when Neil Diamond guy calls me, which, granted it was really only like 9 hours after I last saw him, I decide this is sweet. Everything was fine until he asked me what I got my niece for her birthday (a toy), and proceeds to lecture me about buying toys for kids. He then asks what I am currently reading, and tells me that he has ordered several books for me to read, which he will give to me on Tuesday at the Neil Diamond concert. Needless to say, I dont like being told what to do, especially by Elvis Costello, but I am determined to give this guy a chance and tell him I have to head out to the party. He then does what I really wish he hadn't - texting when you know someone is at an event, a family one at that. Furthermore, these weren't like funny texts that a girl would find joy in from a guy they meet the night before who is now showering her with attention - no, these were wierd, nonsensical, idiotic but I guess 'emo" ramblings. I start to feel a little freaked out by NDG. There is nothing worse then when your exit strategy is pointing directly at being a total lunatic. Sunday was no better. Text, text, text, text. I have now had Neil Diamond Guy in my life for under 48 hours, mind you, and had heard from him at least 20 times.
Date night rolls around, and outside of the rather heavy volume of correspondance over the weekend, I reluctantly go anyways. I get a co-worker to come drink two pre-date jitters beers with me and then go meet this guy.
And this is when things start getting good.
Neil Diamond guy: "glasses, nice. I like glasses. You look a whole lot better then you did the other night, you know, less Tammy Fae Baker"
Me: "Excuse me?"
Neil Diamond guy: "So, tell me something I would never know about you unless you told me"
me: "Ahh.....I'm a twin? You?"
NDG: "Well, my Dad just found out he is Italian Royalty"
Me: "Oh, wow, how'd he discover that?"
NDG: "Yeah, well, after I got my masters, I opened a Cigar Shop in the North End. You watch Sex and the City?"
Me: "wha, yes"
NDG: "well, so one night I'm at the Cigar Shop and in walks Chris Noth, you know Mr. Big. So I hung out with him all night, he's a pretty cool guy. Oh, that reminds me! My sister was part of the publisher's clearing house prize patrol! Unfortunately, that business went under. So, I got all depressed and one day I'm at home watching TV. And one of their commercials came on, and viola, there was my sister!"
Me: "How did you not know your sister was on the prize patrol?"
NDG: "Well, my family wasnt necessarily talking to me then. They are now, but I just had some issues when my Cigar Shop went under. So, anyways, back to my father and his royal family, - turns out that my grandmother was part of an arranged marriage BEFORE she meet my Grandfather! So my Dad has like, this whole other family that he never knew about! And I have all of these aunts and uncles now! What do you think about that?"
Me:"What do I think? Well, I think you're a pathalogical liar (and I wasn't smiling or kidding)"
NDG: "hahahahahha! A sense of humor, I like that. (wink, wink)How's your sandwich?"
Enter the soundtrack to my brain for the rest of the night:
Come back for, part two, when Neil Diamond cries within one hour of dinner, and how he ruined "Start Me Up" for me permanently.
One ill fated friday night in August of 2006, I ventured out to Game On. While waiting for my Buddy to arrive, I start chatting with the bartender/pizza maker. As I was coming off of a dating "thing" with Captain Conventional, I was taken with his Elvis Costello glasses and tales of wanting to write a book about politics from a dog's perspective. These days, I would immediately know I hate this guy, but I was young then, and lookin to forget anouther guy. Neil Diamond guy appeared to be very smart, alternative boy quirky (the correct amount of which is very good, TOO much is very,very,very bad),funny, my AGE, and cute. Most importantly, he was the exact opposite of the last guy I dated, so woo-effing-hoo, Game on!! He tells me he has tickets to the Neil Diamond show the following Tuesday, and asks me if I'd like to go - which of course I did, its effing NEIL DIAMOND! I drop the digits, go on my merry way, and say to myself, "hey, I liked that guy! How great! See? There is life after (other guy)".
So around 11:30 I get a call from an unknown number while I am next door at the Cask. It was Neil Diamond guy, and he wanted to hang out. Which, we did, but not at the Cask because he hated it there, but at some foo-foofy place, and I'm starting to think....hmmm....a tad bit too much "I hate anything remotely mainstream insofar that I can't appreciate the inherent greatness of a dive bar (which I love)", but I say, give him a chance. And, maybe because I was already imbibed, I enjoyed the round I had with him and went home.
I wake up saturday morning prepared to go about my day and to my niece's birthday party when Neil Diamond guy calls me, which, granted it was really only like 9 hours after I last saw him, I decide this is sweet. Everything was fine until he asked me what I got my niece for her birthday (a toy), and proceeds to lecture me about buying toys for kids. He then asks what I am currently reading, and tells me that he has ordered several books for me to read, which he will give to me on Tuesday at the Neil Diamond concert. Needless to say, I dont like being told what to do, especially by Elvis Costello, but I am determined to give this guy a chance and tell him I have to head out to the party. He then does what I really wish he hadn't - texting when you know someone is at an event, a family one at that. Furthermore, these weren't like funny texts that a girl would find joy in from a guy they meet the night before who is now showering her with attention - no, these were wierd, nonsensical, idiotic but I guess 'emo" ramblings. I start to feel a little freaked out by NDG. There is nothing worse then when your exit strategy is pointing directly at being a total lunatic. Sunday was no better. Text, text, text, text. I have now had Neil Diamond Guy in my life for under 48 hours, mind you, and had heard from him at least 20 times.
Date night rolls around, and outside of the rather heavy volume of correspondance over the weekend, I reluctantly go anyways. I get a co-worker to come drink two pre-date jitters beers with me and then go meet this guy.
And this is when things start getting good.
Neil Diamond guy: "glasses, nice. I like glasses. You look a whole lot better then you did the other night, you know, less Tammy Fae Baker"
Me: "Excuse me?"
Neil Diamond guy: "So, tell me something I would never know about you unless you told me"
me: "Ahh.....I'm a twin? You?"
NDG: "Well, my Dad just found out he is Italian Royalty"
Me: "Oh, wow, how'd he discover that?"
NDG: "Yeah, well, after I got my masters, I opened a Cigar Shop in the North End. You watch Sex and the City?"
Me: "wha, yes"
NDG: "well, so one night I'm at the Cigar Shop and in walks Chris Noth, you know Mr. Big. So I hung out with him all night, he's a pretty cool guy. Oh, that reminds me! My sister was part of the publisher's clearing house prize patrol! Unfortunately, that business went under. So, I got all depressed and one day I'm at home watching TV. And one of their commercials came on, and viola, there was my sister!"
Me: "How did you not know your sister was on the prize patrol?"
NDG: "Well, my family wasnt necessarily talking to me then. They are now, but I just had some issues when my Cigar Shop went under. So, anyways, back to my father and his royal family, - turns out that my grandmother was part of an arranged marriage BEFORE she meet my Grandfather! So my Dad has like, this whole other family that he never knew about! And I have all of these aunts and uncles now! What do you think about that?"
Me:"What do I think? Well, I think you're a pathalogical liar (and I wasn't smiling or kidding)"
NDG: "hahahahahha! A sense of humor, I like that. (wink, wink)How's your sandwich?"
Enter the soundtrack to my brain for the rest of the night:
Come back for, part two, when Neil Diamond cries within one hour of dinner, and how he ruined "Start Me Up" for me permanently.
Why Eharmony is a Bunch of Bulls$#t
I'll keep this simple.
Several months ago, I joined eharmony. Everyone says how great it is, it was winter, so why not! I throw down $150 for a three month membership, and figure its totally worth it.
Eharmony proceeds to send me my matches, and I think they are ok, nothing too exciting, but I am open-minded, as I have been told many times that I often am not when it comes to dating. So I send a couple of first questions to some guys, and wait.
Crickets. My inbox was crickets. I start getting a little paranoid, and spruce up my "about me", thinking maybe I dont sound interesting enough. This gets me a couple of first questions from a few guys, and I start thinking, okay, eharmony isn't so bad after all. This mature cyber communication between two accomplished adults is totally the way to go!!!! So sure, Mike, I'll answer your five first questions that are clearly targeted towards figuring me out at via multiple choice, why not!
Soon, checking my inbox becomes fun. I start believing in the power of eharmony, when I see something a little strange. There they are, three right in a row...these wierd "closed communication" messages from people I had never conversed with. I click on one. Raliegh, from A-Holevile has decided that he wants to permanently close his match with me. Reason being, "other". Scott from Isuck, also wants to permanently close communication with me, because he is "pursuing anouther relationship". I say, okay, douchebags, and try to navigate away from these messages, but e-harmony makes you either agree to close the match, or send some a-hole who you've never meet or spoken too, who felt the need to reject you outright based on some lameass profile when they could have just said nothing, a message about the termination of your match.
Are you effing kidding me?!?!??!!?!?!? Isn't it bad enough to be on a dating site????? Must they have a built in "ehh, no thanks" feature?? After making you fill out a 20 page questionaire that takes a good hour and a half, and that then "guides" you through your communication with some dork who actually answered the "what are you passionate" about question? At least in real life, a guy will just look at you and say "ehh" in his head, and move on. And if he did say that outloud, then he is publically lauded an a-hole, one that you and your girlfriends make fun of for years on end.
I want my $150 back, Eharmony, you stinking bastards!!!!!!!!!! I could see New Moon 15 times with that money.
Several months ago, I joined eharmony. Everyone says how great it is, it was winter, so why not! I throw down $150 for a three month membership, and figure its totally worth it.
Eharmony proceeds to send me my matches, and I think they are ok, nothing too exciting, but I am open-minded, as I have been told many times that I often am not when it comes to dating. So I send a couple of first questions to some guys, and wait.
Crickets. My inbox was crickets. I start getting a little paranoid, and spruce up my "about me", thinking maybe I dont sound interesting enough. This gets me a couple of first questions from a few guys, and I start thinking, okay, eharmony isn't so bad after all. This mature cyber communication between two accomplished adults is totally the way to go!!!! So sure, Mike, I'll answer your five first questions that are clearly targeted towards figuring me out at via multiple choice, why not!
Soon, checking my inbox becomes fun. I start believing in the power of eharmony, when I see something a little strange. There they are, three right in a row...these wierd "closed communication" messages from people I had never conversed with. I click on one. Raliegh, from A-Holevile has decided that he wants to permanently close his match with me. Reason being, "other". Scott from Isuck, also wants to permanently close communication with me, because he is "pursuing anouther relationship". I say, okay, douchebags, and try to navigate away from these messages, but e-harmony makes you either agree to close the match, or send some a-hole who you've never meet or spoken too, who felt the need to reject you outright based on some lameass profile when they could have just said nothing, a message about the termination of your match.
Are you effing kidding me?!?!??!!?!?!? Isn't it bad enough to be on a dating site????? Must they have a built in "ehh, no thanks" feature?? After making you fill out a 20 page questionaire that takes a good hour and a half, and that then "guides" you through your communication with some dork who actually answered the "what are you passionate" about question? At least in real life, a guy will just look at you and say "ehh" in his head, and move on. And if he did say that outloud, then he is publically lauded an a-hole, one that you and your girlfriends make fun of for years on end.
I want my $150 back, Eharmony, you stinking bastards!!!!!!!!!! I could see New Moon 15 times with that money.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Tips on Thwarting the Romantic Advances of Mall Security Guards, should you work in retail
This is because I care- sometimes mall employees start gettin a little crazy, looking for love in all the wrong places, and should any of you find yourselves approached by a nerd in situations you can’t get out of easily, I impart this wisdom onto you.
Said guy was the 5’4 part-time security guard at the mall I also worked part time at. Who, of course, wore a ridiculous uniform, complete with the Rhode Island Trooper pointy hat, and was otherwise just not attractive. He was required to conduct “rounds” as part of his duties, which provided him with several opportunties to yell out “HEY (awesome blogger)!” which not only startled me, it also created unnecessary wear and tear on parts of the floor no one else walks on, as he covers the “full” perimeter of the mall, which includes dodging in and out of columns and the like. This extensive knowledge of the mall’s floor plan may explain how he, when he sees you on the first floor and he’s on the fourth floor of the mall (and this is accompanied with a resounding “HEY (AWESOME BLOGGER)!!!” as well) can be beside you in 2.5 seconds. Maybe he has superpowers, I don’t know. Doubt it somehow.
Point is, I don’t like (him), but somehow I feel indebted to him as he got my reeces pieces out of the vending machine on that morning when I was wicked hungover and they wouldn’t come out, and I had tried to use all “engineering” knowledge to knock the trapped reeces with other candy but I ran out of time and single dollah bills. And when (he) came marching across (retail spot) with those reeces five minutes later, well he was okay in my crazed hung-over book. So as I’m walking out to my car on Saturday, I see him while carrying my "make it fabulous ten year high school reunion outfit", and he asks where I’m going, I say my HS reunion, blah blah, please go away.
Couple of nights later when I was working, I hear this sonic boom:
“SO HOW WAS THE (wrong town, not where I went to HS, but whatever) HIGH REUNION!?!?!?!?!??!”
This scares the crap out of me, as usual, but it was also louder, because it was coming from the front entrance of the store. He never actually came into the store to talk to me, so I know I’m in trouble. I tell him he scared the crap out me, but he is not thwarted by this at all. He presses on with his questions. I tell him that a bunch of my stuff got stolen, blah blah blah and then it comes:
“Well, why wasn’t your boyfriend buying all of your drinks anyways? Hahahaha”
I feel like throwing up, because here it is. If I don’t lie, (he) the weirdo is going to ask me out. And I have graded myself way higher, and I’m SICK OF THIS ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!! So I did it, I pulled out the imaginary boyfriend, which isn’t hard because I pretend Tom Brady’s my boyfriend anyways.
“Oh, he wasn’t there (as he’s on the road to the next GAME (him).”
“Interesting. Okay, well have a good night.”
And then he left. Thank you God.
By the way, He’s a total mall “player” so I think he’ll find love at Borders, perhaps. Not as much game as the guys at the sunglass hut, but word was he cast a wide freaky net.
Said guy was the 5’4 part-time security guard at the mall I also worked part time at. Who, of course, wore a ridiculous uniform, complete with the Rhode Island Trooper pointy hat, and was otherwise just not attractive. He was required to conduct “rounds” as part of his duties, which provided him with several opportunties to yell out “HEY (awesome blogger)!” which not only startled me, it also created unnecessary wear and tear on parts of the floor no one else walks on, as he covers the “full” perimeter of the mall, which includes dodging in and out of columns and the like. This extensive knowledge of the mall’s floor plan may explain how he, when he sees you on the first floor and he’s on the fourth floor of the mall (and this is accompanied with a resounding “HEY (AWESOME BLOGGER)!!!” as well) can be beside you in 2.5 seconds. Maybe he has superpowers, I don’t know. Doubt it somehow.
Point is, I don’t like (him), but somehow I feel indebted to him as he got my reeces pieces out of the vending machine on that morning when I was wicked hungover and they wouldn’t come out, and I had tried to use all “engineering” knowledge to knock the trapped reeces with other candy but I ran out of time and single dollah bills. And when (he) came marching across (retail spot) with those reeces five minutes later, well he was okay in my crazed hung-over book. So as I’m walking out to my car on Saturday, I see him while carrying my "make it fabulous ten year high school reunion outfit", and he asks where I’m going, I say my HS reunion, blah blah, please go away.
Couple of nights later when I was working, I hear this sonic boom:
“SO HOW WAS THE (wrong town, not where I went to HS, but whatever) HIGH REUNION!?!?!?!?!??!”
This scares the crap out of me, as usual, but it was also louder, because it was coming from the front entrance of the store. He never actually came into the store to talk to me, so I know I’m in trouble. I tell him he scared the crap out me, but he is not thwarted by this at all. He presses on with his questions. I tell him that a bunch of my stuff got stolen, blah blah blah and then it comes:
“Well, why wasn’t your boyfriend buying all of your drinks anyways? Hahahaha”
I feel like throwing up, because here it is. If I don’t lie, (he) the weirdo is going to ask me out. And I have graded myself way higher, and I’m SICK OF THIS ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!! So I did it, I pulled out the imaginary boyfriend, which isn’t hard because I pretend Tom Brady’s my boyfriend anyways.
“Oh, he wasn’t there (as he’s on the road to the next GAME (him).”
“Interesting. Okay, well have a good night.”
And then he left. Thank you God.
By the way, He’s a total mall “player” so I think he’ll find love at Borders, perhaps. Not as much game as the guys at the sunglass hut, but word was he cast a wide freaky net.
Notes from When Someone Blames their Fart at Work on Flowers
Names have been removed, but this happened.
So, someone says something to make me mad, and I decide to take a walk at work. I run into my coworker, who is MARCHING with a vase with flowers her boyfriend had sent her a week ago. But she's carrying them with a mission, and I smell (that will be funny later) a good story.
So I say "Hey,(co-worker), what the hell's going on here?"
Her: Oh, god! So and so said there was a wierd smell coming from my flowers! I think they smell!"
Me: What? Ahh, well yeah, the water will smell if you don't change it, but that takes a long time, and these look fine!"
Her: Well, I was just sitting at my desk, and I got totally overwhelmed by this awful smell, so I said (to other co-worker) my god, do you smell that!!!?!?!? And he says, "yeah it smells awful. Horrible." And I said to (he who dealt it)!! DO you smell that?!?!?
Me: Uh huh......
Her: And he said "It doesn't matter."
Me: What? He said what? What doesn't matter?
Her: THat's what I said! And he said "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter where that smell came from, doesn't matter." So I said,Did you fart?
Me: AND HE SAID???
Her: He said again "Doesn't matter. Actually, I didn't want to say anything, but it's your flowers, they smell. They have been this whole time."!!!
So, I of course am crying I'm laughing so hard. I mean, let's think about this. There were many other ways for him to attempt to get out of this, none of which would have really worked, but anything is better then trying to blame a room filling, silent but deadly,nasty fart on a bunch of orchids. I mean, really. And seeing as how he wouldn't have suprised anyone by trying the "he who smelt it, delt it" card, but instead, he blamed it on flowers. Because I don't know about you guys, but I'm pretty darn sure that I have never smelled a flower that smells like a fart. Ever. Anyone? Anyone at all ever smelled a flower that smelled like a fart?
So, the lessons to be learned here:
If you fart, you better be sure as shit it's not going to fill up a whole room. AND, if it does, you're screwed and shouldn't try to cover it up with blaming it on flowers....
So, someone says something to make me mad, and I decide to take a walk at work. I run into my coworker, who is MARCHING with a vase with flowers her boyfriend had sent her a week ago. But she's carrying them with a mission, and I smell (that will be funny later) a good story.
So I say "Hey,(co-worker), what the hell's going on here?"
Her: Oh, god! So and so said there was a wierd smell coming from my flowers! I think they smell!"
Me: What? Ahh, well yeah, the water will smell if you don't change it, but that takes a long time, and these look fine!"
Her: Well, I was just sitting at my desk, and I got totally overwhelmed by this awful smell, so I said (to other co-worker) my god, do you smell that!!!?!?!? And he says, "yeah it smells awful. Horrible." And I said to (he who dealt it)!! DO you smell that?!?!?
Me: Uh huh......
Her: And he said "It doesn't matter."
Me: What? He said what? What doesn't matter?
Her: THat's what I said! And he said "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter where that smell came from, doesn't matter." So I said,Did you fart?
Me: AND HE SAID???
Her: He said again "Doesn't matter. Actually, I didn't want to say anything, but it's your flowers, they smell. They have been this whole time."!!!
So, I of course am crying I'm laughing so hard. I mean, let's think about this. There were many other ways for him to attempt to get out of this, none of which would have really worked, but anything is better then trying to blame a room filling, silent but deadly,nasty fart on a bunch of orchids. I mean, really. And seeing as how he wouldn't have suprised anyone by trying the "he who smelt it, delt it" card, but instead, he blamed it on flowers. Because I don't know about you guys, but I'm pretty darn sure that I have never smelled a flower that smells like a fart. Ever. Anyone? Anyone at all ever smelled a flower that smelled like a fart?
So, the lessons to be learned here:
If you fart, you better be sure as shit it's not going to fill up a whole room. AND, if it does, you're screwed and shouldn't try to cover it up with blaming it on flowers....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)