04 September 2010

Little Monster




If it's too good to be true, chances are it is.

This can be applied to almost everything: used cars, online shopping and, of course, men. I dated this guy who was the whole package: successful, excessively handsome and very charming. We met at work, where he casually asked me for my phone number. His smile lured me - I gave in. Weekly, he traveled on business, but flew home every few days and made it a point to make plans with me whenever he was in town. He lived outside the city and it took a traffic-filled hour commute to come see me; this guy must really like me. 


We got along well, our dates filled with laughter and stories. He was seven years older than I was, the age difference never concerned me, but what was a point of concern was the fact that he was in his mid-thirties and never married. It came up in conversation once and when it did he'd always say: "I haven't met the right one."  I know how silly this sounds, like a bullshit line from a bad movie. However, I'm a total romantic at heart - THERE: I said it! Besides, I really liked this guy so I believed it. 


I remember the 4th date specifically: It was a full moon that night and it was raining. He came to pick me up after being stuck in some heavy traffic on the bridge. I was anxious when he arrived; it had been two weeks since we'd seen each other and this would mark the first day I would see him since we started having our daily phone conversations. Yes, at this point I'll admit thinking things between us were beginning to feel almost well, exclusive (please note: we had NOT had sex, yet.) 


When he picked me up that night, my nerves got the best of me. When I saw him we did the awkward "almost" kiss. You know the one: he goes in for a full lip kiss and you aim for his cheek, well the results are embarrassing. That set the bar for the rest of the date. We couldn't find a parking space; the restaurant was packed; the wait staff was awful.  He dropped me off in front of my apartment afterwards and instead of walking me to the front door - as he did the last 3 dates - he quickly kissed me goodbye and before I could finish closing the car door, he was off, leaving behind the sound of screeching tires. 


He started calling less often after that date, but I brushed it off and told myself he was just busy with travel and work. His text messages and emails were arriving further and further apart not to mention his phone calls. I started to voice my worry to my friends and they called me paranoid. They claimed that one off-night would not be the cause of a guy not wanting to see me again. 


Another two weeks pass and we finally set up another date. This time, I went to see him. Since he lived an hour away, I'd just have to sleep over.


I'll walk you through:
"Oh, I know what I'll do... I'll step up my game, dress up and seduce him! I'm sleeping over! It's the perfect opportunity to take this to the next level!" 
LAME!


I went as far as going to the local lingerie store and picking out special saucy underwear; I wanted to look and feel my best. As he picked me and my overnight bag up at the train station, things seemed great. He was in a fantastic mood, happy to see me and excited I finally got to see his neighborhood. My nerves eased as he kissed me and told me how pretty I looked. 


We made our way back to his apartment because he was tired from his flight and he wanted to just crack open a bottle of wine, relax and catch up. Finally at his apartment, we cuddled for over an hour, watched some TV and let the wine kick-in. Slightly affectionate, he had his arms around me, but he didn't try to make any passes at me or my sexy drawers.


He suggested going to bed since he had an early afternoon flight that he really wanted to be rested for. As he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth, I quickly get undressed and jump in bed. How could he resist me in my sexy lingerie and tousled hair? 


Well, he walked into his room and didn't even give me a once over. He slid into bed next to me, gave me a quick peck on the lips and said goodnight. My lips were still puckered when, before I knew it, his back was turned to me. I was baffled to say the least! Here I am in his BED and he isn't even going to TRY and lay a hand on me? 


Me: "Is there anything wrong?" 
Douche: "Why? because I won't sleep with you?" 
SILENCE
I was dumbfounded: something in his voice sounded very strange. Not anything like the sweet charming guy I met. I listened as he explained that after our last date he started thinking about "us" and how he wasn't sure I was "right" for him. Blah blah blah...


I tuned him out for most of his speech because all I kept thinking was "He's dumping me while I'm in his bed wearing see-through panties. I'm a total loser." At some point my pride kicked-in and I did manage to defend myself saying he never liked me if he was willing to let one silly date determine if we were "right" for one another. 


To that he said: "Let's just be friends." 


That's when I lost it. 


He didn't even have the audacity to dump me AFTER he slept with me like most men would. Instead, he's telling me we should be "friends" until his job doesn't require him to travel as much. Did I mention I'm in my underwear!!! Underwear fancy enough that no IDIOT would wear unless they were planning on having them ripped off. 


[Cue the lobster hands and razor blade sunglasses]


I hear Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" in my subconscious and I begin to yell.


"I DON'T WANNA BE FRIENDS!" 
"I DON'T WANNA BE FRIENDS!" 


I got up, picked my clothes off the floor and proceed to get dressed.  As I'm planning my dramatic escape and of what would be my last choice words for him, he asks me "where are you going?"


Me: "Home"
Douche: "How?" 
Me: " The train" 
Douche: "The trains stopped running over and hour ago and a cab will cost you well over a 100 bucks. Just get back to bed." 


I didn't want to spend a fortune getting home. So I sucked it up, and got back into bed with him.  I lay rejected as he snored, so I watched him sleep, thinking of the fastest way to hurt him in his sleep. 

Point of the conversation : Always have an escape plan. 

- La La

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