This is the story of how much I love Roommate. She went out with LaserBoy for coffee, it wasn't great, he didn't have enough to cover her coffee (didn't offer - she hadn't expected him to pay so it was "okay"), nor did he have enough to leave tip for their waitress. Roommate, who I dearly love, complained about him for a good...evening after the date. We had a few drinks, sat on the porch and smoked and made fun of him. It was hilarious. Less than a week later she invited him over for dinner, as friends.
We made him the same meal we made for DDM. It was delicious. LB was more interesting, could tell stories and he like the enchiladas. WIN. He also drank. A LOT. We started with martinis. I love them, as does Roommate, still we know that one should drink responsibly. LB finished, ask for another drink, asked what liquors we had (drank a ton of rum or whiskey...maybe just some of each), then finished our beer (at least 4 beers). As I watched him literally finish multiple bottles of our alcohol I noticed he was annoying.
He once went home with a stranger he met on the metro to try drugs and followed him to the roof where he (the stranger) talked about murder.
Roommate and I grew up in/near Gettysburg respectively. We had funny ghost stories that we were swapping and some from our friend. It was a light and funny conversation about ghosts in areas where we lived. LB decided to tell the story of a failed haunted house, when questioned where the haunted house was he simple stated, "Prague" and burped.
LB burped. All through dinner, after dinner, while he was drinking our alcohol, and while he was smoking Roommate's cigarettes. He also was one of those white kids who comes from extreme privilege, bragging about where he's been, what he's done but somehow still managed the whole, 'woe is me' thing.
It wasn't until LB decided to tell us about a movie his friend made. 18mm film. Lit entirely, get this, by lasers. The movie is follows the path of the bullet through a guy's brain. He's been murdered and it follows the bullet through various parts of the brain. I wanted to die. This guy took hipster to a professional level. I couldn't handle it.
Throughout the night I had been reminding Roommate that I had to be at my weekend job at 8am, was she sure she could drop me off? LB stated he had to be on the metro by 2am. We gaped. SERIOUSLY. Finally, around 10 I told my roommate I was going to bed, but asked to leave my dog out with them because...she needed that space, really it was to keep LB from trying something, Dog doesn't like it when boys get upon me or Roommate.
About 2 hours later I heard the door close and I sprinted out. I was starving and there was delicious food in the fridge. Roommate came back 15minutes later to find me eating on the couch with drinks made and cigarettes ready. We had a grand time making fun of the burping, bragging, hipster.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Dull Dimwitted Man
I met Dull Dimwitted Man on Dating site. He was not a creeper. Success! He was the first guy I met online who I later met in person (so really I've only gone downhill). He was the most dull, dimwitted man I have ever met. We had talked for MONTHS via text and messages on DatingSite. He was funny, he was sweet, he seemed normal, we decided to meet. We'd been talking long enough that my roommate and I agreed to just have him to the apartment for dinner, she stayed and Bobo had taken to 'protecting' when men came in the house so if things when south...she'd growl while Roommate called the cops or screamed or something.
Now, when I asked DDM what to make for dinner he had said, "Not salad" I asked if he was adverse to all vegetables he said no, and he didn't want fish, either. Roommate and I made margaritas and came up with a menue. Roommate and I made an amazing meal; green rice, vegetarian enchiladas, and Roommate and I got Mochi for my dessert and some Apple thing with gluten for them. Seriously, we ate those enchiladas for DAYS we loved them that much.
DDM comes in, we introduce BoBo, she doesn't kill him, we're ok. We do the polite, "Can we get you a drink" thing, and we finish setting the table and we sit down, and I'm at the head of the table with DDM and Roommate on either side and DDM talks to Roommate the ENTIRE time. We give him a good 45 minutes to look at me, or ask a question, or form a sentence that doesn't revolve around himself, and he just doesn't. It was as if it took too much effort to slightly turn his head to address me, or show the slightest bit of interest in either myself or Roommate. In addition to this, he actually said the words, in a serious manner, "My parents are kind of a big deal where I'm from." Where he is from is a bumfuck town in upstate New York with a military base nearby. He had a lot of stories. His dad once got drunk with their sheriff on election night, like fall-off-the-barstool-drunk. That's the story. The entire story. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, his dad had to help count ballots. THAT'S the story. Every story he told was dull and slow and boring.
I was a girl on a blind date, I had an out, and a friend who had the guy's full name and picture so, when he brutally murdered me, Roommate, and BoBo, SVU's Eliot and Olivia would be able to track him down and punish the bastard. Also, she was to call 45 minutes into the meeting with an emergency. She did, right on time, I take the call. CRISIS! All the pipes in her house have exploded, her cat is having a species crisis and wants to have surgery to become a dog...and I think there was something else, but I had stepped onto the porch because I was laughing so hard I was crying. I told her I thought we could make it through dessert, we'd just popped it in the oven, maybe he was still nervous (this isn't the moment to mention that I found him totally unattractive). I go back in, tell DDM and Roommate L has a bit of a crisis but said it could wait until we were done eating.
Roommate and I finish the dishes, at this point I've consistantly arranged myself in the kitchen so Roommate is between DDM and myself and am avoiding conversation. He managed to insult every girlfriend he's ever had in about 10 minutes (calling one a "fat cow"). Probably not the best way to win over a woman. The timer beeps and dessert is finished. We take it out, it's cold, needs another twenty minutes. I panic. I absolutely CANNOT have this man in my house for another twenty minutes. He's so boring I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and I snap. I demand Roommate and I immediately comfort L in her time of crisis.
At this point I've given up on subtly. I'm rambling about how there was a training accident at her brother's bootcamp and her parents are flying to Texas to see him but she can't go and we HAVE to be here for her, NOW. Because she was crying, and she never cries, and I'm literally in the closet pulling out coats handing them to DDM, and Roommate and he finally seems to get it, he puts his coat on, still talking about himself. He opens the door to leave and I'm in the kitchen, trying not to cry/laugh and I hear, "You have a package!" I tell him to leave it, and of course he picks it up and brings it in and leaves. Finally.
I collapse to the floor laughing. The asshole had picked at the enchilada and not even eaten half, he'd spilled, he'd made a mess. He'd been self-centered and I couldn't stop laughing. Roommate and I pack up enchiladas and head over to L's for Hawaii Five-0, hot tubbing and rum and coke. We tell her about our horrible date and that the moron hadn't noticed I was laughing while on the phone with L and bought my bullshit story, he texted me about 20 times that night and following day, I, like a coward, ignored them.
Roommate and I still joke about how boring DDM was. We make up additions to the story about his dad and the sheriff, and it gets better with time.
Next week's update will be about Roommate's FailDate that involved me hiding in my room until he left when I burst out to finish eating the DELICIOUS enchiladas that we apparently make for boys we meet online.
Now, when I asked DDM what to make for dinner he had said, "Not salad" I asked if he was adverse to all vegetables he said no, and he didn't want fish, either. Roommate and I made margaritas and came up with a menue. Roommate and I made an amazing meal; green rice, vegetarian enchiladas, and Roommate and I got Mochi for my dessert and some Apple thing with gluten for them. Seriously, we ate those enchiladas for DAYS we loved them that much.
DDM comes in, we introduce BoBo, she doesn't kill him, we're ok. We do the polite, "Can we get you a drink" thing, and we finish setting the table and we sit down, and I'm at the head of the table with DDM and Roommate on either side and DDM talks to Roommate the ENTIRE time. We give him a good 45 minutes to look at me, or ask a question, or form a sentence that doesn't revolve around himself, and he just doesn't. It was as if it took too much effort to slightly turn his head to address me, or show the slightest bit of interest in either myself or Roommate. In addition to this, he actually said the words, in a serious manner, "My parents are kind of a big deal where I'm from." Where he is from is a bumfuck town in upstate New York with a military base nearby. He had a lot of stories. His dad once got drunk with their sheriff on election night, like fall-off-the-barstool-drunk. That's the story. The entire story. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, his dad had to help count ballots. THAT'S the story. Every story he told was dull and slow and boring.
I was a girl on a blind date, I had an out, and a friend who had the guy's full name and picture so, when he brutally murdered me, Roommate, and BoBo, SVU's Eliot and Olivia would be able to track him down and punish the bastard. Also, she was to call 45 minutes into the meeting with an emergency. She did, right on time, I take the call. CRISIS! All the pipes in her house have exploded, her cat is having a species crisis and wants to have surgery to become a dog...and I think there was something else, but I had stepped onto the porch because I was laughing so hard I was crying. I told her I thought we could make it through dessert, we'd just popped it in the oven, maybe he was still nervous (this isn't the moment to mention that I found him totally unattractive). I go back in, tell DDM and Roommate L has a bit of a crisis but said it could wait until we were done eating.
Roommate and I finish the dishes, at this point I've consistantly arranged myself in the kitchen so Roommate is between DDM and myself and am avoiding conversation. He managed to insult every girlfriend he's ever had in about 10 minutes (calling one a "fat cow"). Probably not the best way to win over a woman. The timer beeps and dessert is finished. We take it out, it's cold, needs another twenty minutes. I panic. I absolutely CANNOT have this man in my house for another twenty minutes. He's so boring I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and I snap. I demand Roommate and I immediately comfort L in her time of crisis.
At this point I've given up on subtly. I'm rambling about how there was a training accident at her brother's bootcamp and her parents are flying to Texas to see him but she can't go and we HAVE to be here for her, NOW. Because she was crying, and she never cries, and I'm literally in the closet pulling out coats handing them to DDM, and Roommate and he finally seems to get it, he puts his coat on, still talking about himself. He opens the door to leave and I'm in the kitchen, trying not to cry/laugh and I hear, "You have a package!" I tell him to leave it, and of course he picks it up and brings it in and leaves. Finally.
I collapse to the floor laughing. The asshole had picked at the enchilada and not even eaten half, he'd spilled, he'd made a mess. He'd been self-centered and I couldn't stop laughing. Roommate and I pack up enchiladas and head over to L's for Hawaii Five-0, hot tubbing and rum and coke. We tell her about our horrible date and that the moron hadn't noticed I was laughing while on the phone with L and bought my bullshit story, he texted me about 20 times that night and following day, I, like a coward, ignored them.
Roommate and I still joke about how boring DDM was. We make up additions to the story about his dad and the sheriff, and it gets better with time.
Next week's update will be about Roommate's FailDate that involved me hiding in my room until he left when I burst out to finish eating the DELICIOUS enchiladas that we apparently make for boys we meet online.
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