Sarcasm with a Smile

Once I got dumped via text message.  This relationship was already on the way out the door.  Jack Daniels was our third wheel to help us through the long, awkward silences. 

The text went something like this: "Hey Bryce, I've been thinking about this a lot and I don't think this is going to work. Good luck with everything! -D."

My response a few hours later? "But you gave me the best months of my life!"

D's immediate response: "Really? I was having fun too! I just figured you were going to dump me soon so I dumped you first."

Me: "Yes. Best time ever - especially making me walk through the freezing cold to get to your apartment."

D: "Oh ok, so you want me to come over later?"

Me: "No, idiot. I was being sarcastic."

Serious(ly) NOT Interested

And here's another great story...

I was out and met a guy. Shocker, right? He was very handsome, dark, great smile... totally my type.  I coincidentally met him on the street and he followed my friends and I into a bar. He was funny, laid-back, and smart.  Did I mention he also paid for all of my drinks? Because he did. :)  Throughout the course of the night, it comes out that he worked for the World Bank in Kenya and has traveled all over.  Hello, sexy! I tell him about my interests and we really hit it off.  He subtly mentions that he graduated from Harvard Law School. I let it go. I don't really care where you went because at the end of the day your degree isn't going to be what offers me companionship which is what I'm on the hunt for. Mr. Harvard asks for my number.  I don't usually give it out to people that I meet from bars but this guy had "non-serial killer" written all over him so I obliged.

At first things start out great! He calls me at night to ask about my day, he makes me laugh, etc.  Then he brings up facebook.  "Add me on Facebook", he asked. I explained that I don't add a lot of people on my FB because people get the wrong impression and only see me as a partier.  He insisted that he won't be like that.  So I add him.  Almost immediately he makes a snide comment about my 800! pictures.  Ok, first of all - I was at UF when Facebook first came out.  That was 7 years ago.  That averages to about 100 pictures a year which is only 1 picture every 3 plus days, and that's not including vacations! 800 isn't that many! I'm sorry if you don't have friends that want pictures with you, Mr. Harvard.  Anyway, before I know it he's clearly stalking my page because he's making comments that totally give him away.  I'm cringing on the inside but I let it go.  As the week progresses he insists that we should go to dinner a movie on the upcoming Saturday.  Great - but at this point I already had a gut feeling.  Thursday night rolls around and he doesn't call.  Okay, no big deal.  Friday around 11 a.m. he texts me that he's excited to see me Saturday.  Perfect.  Saturday rolls around and I totally have that gut feeling where things aren't working your way. I hadn't heard from him and he had no idea where I lived. (I give my address to NO ONE!) Around 3, I text him knowing full well that he wasn't coming.  He responded with some BS about working, etc.  I'm thinking okay, but you should've text me that on your own. I simply respond "OK" and move on. No man is worth me getting upset over, ever. 

A week goes by and he randomly messages me ON FACEBOOK CHAT!  He proceeds to tell me that I'm the hot, smart, party girl and that he's looking for something more serious than that VIA FACEBOOK CHAT.  I proceed to rip him a new one and point out the idiocy of him saying he wants something serious, but not being able to tell via phone or even text and instead using Facebook chat.  Oh, and did I mention that he was 36?

Winning.

I've been on so many semi-blind dates, I should have a guide dog.

There's a reason I'm single.  I'm counting the experiences one by one.  Below are the first two.

#1. I shall call him (names rhymes with Sherbert) H.
H and I meant through a friend that encouraged me to go on a date with him.  H worked with her boyfriend.  Ok, I thought.  How bad can it be? My friend doing the connecting knew me pretty well (read: I like to drink too much and laugh too loud).  After some texting back and forth, H and I finally set a date for a Friday night.  We were meeting in Times Square for dinner.  Now, this was my first date coming out of a rather poorly ending relationship that should've ended long before it did.  I go to great lengths to straighten my hair, get a new outfit, etc.  So, I get to dinner AT THE ONLY DINER IN TIMES SQUARE and H is already sitting, waiting for me.  Time efficient? Yes. Nice? No. I had NO idea what he looked like.  After I sit down, I think, okay he's cute.  This could work.  Five seconds later I knew I was wrong.  As we are browsing the menu, he subtly mentions that he's using half his paycheck to take me out tonight so if I could please not get a meal that costs too much, that'd be great.  Okay - salad section please.  I shrug it off and pick a salad that interested me.  While we are waiting for food, he thanked me for ordering water because it again, was free.  I'm thinking buddy, I need about 10 beers to get through this.  He then tried to make conversation.  Okay, show me what you've got bud.  When he asked me about law school and I attempted to respond, he cut me off and told me that I'll be taking the LSATs upon graduation.  I politely said, actually it's the bar exam for whichever state I decide to stay in.  No - he insists it's the LSAT and I'm wrong.  I didn't even bother to tell him that LSAT stands for law school ADMISSION test.  Next topic that came up? Traveling.  Perfect! I love to travel.  He asks where my favorite location is ... I pick Costa Rica for the sake of throwing something out there.  He then states, "I've always wanted to travel to South America." I say, "Oh it's actually in Central America." He tells me I'm wrong.  At this point I'm literally laughing so hard that I may or may not have been crying.  I shutup for the rest of the meal and let good old H tell me all about himself.  So after dinner and making a huff about paying $37.00 in TIMES SQUARE ON A FRIDAY NIGHT FOR 2 PEOPLE, we leave.  People were staring because did I mention that H has a very loud voice that carries throughout the restaurant? I didn't? Oh. It did! As we step out into the hustle and bustle of the street, I realize that H is actually way shorter than me and seriously can't stop laughing.  H thinks this means that our date has gone really well and asks if I want to go to a movie, before saying that I'll have to buy my own ticket.  I politely decline and he insists on walking me to the train station.  As I'm stepping onto my train, he says, "I can tell by the smile on your face all night that we really connected and you had a great time! I'll call you early next week for a 2nd date." HA! No. Get a clue, buddy! I then went home and promptly ran into the arms of my friends Mike and Steve and started crying.  H actually made me miss my ex, something that I didn't think was possible. I ran into H a few months later coincidentally at his birthday party of all places on complete accident.  Yeah, awkward.  H still had no clue and somehow had gotten a random snapshot of us when I wasn't looking that he text me a few days later.  Creep.

#2.  Doctor Man.
Doctor Man lived in the same building as my friend down the street in the FiDi.  I was over at her place all of the time watching her dog so one day doctor man asked for my number.  Sure, why not? He calls me and wants to go to dinner.  Okay, great.  We go to dinner.  It wasn't fantastic but it wasn't horrible either.  Doctor man asks for a second date.  Eh, okay.  It was free and hey, I was in law school.  Doctor man takes me to a cute little pizzeria.  (I realize looking back that he only took me to places where people knew his name so that he probably appeared cooler than what he really is - women beware of this tactic!).  After dinner as he's walking me home, we pass by a Duane Reade (drug store for all of you non-Northerners).  Doctor man is suddenly like "Oh My God! I need to go in and grab something! Mind coming with me?" Fine, so I go in.  Doctor man then loudly asks the front desk clerk where they keep their condoms.  I could not have hidden the shock on my face if I tried.  At this point it's too late for me to turn and walk out.  So, I walk to the condom aisle with him.  He then proceeds to get a box of about 90 extra large condoms and walks to the check out line.  My face is now beet red and has an expression of horror all over it.  The Clerk can't stop laughing and makes a wisecrack.  Doctor man makes some kind of comment like, "yeah, with her around I'm gonna be needing these!" Umm... no. Let's just say that Doctor man never used a single one of those condoms with me.

Tacky or Classy? Balloons at a Funeral

Balloons at a funeral complete with a card that reads: "I know there's a party in heaven right now welcoming (insert loved one's name here)."I vote tacky.

A few things come to mind: 1. What if the family/deceased is atheist? 2. Whatever happened to flowers? Balloons? Really? Nothing says, "thinking of you during this terrible time of grief" like balloons.  Now let's throw a few shots back and celebrate death! Yee-haw? No. 3. What if the person you deliver the balloons is allergic to latex?

So, those of you that think this is a good idea - stop inhaling the helium and come to your senses! 

Big Bleu

So my DaD got a beat up old pickup truck. Big Bleu is its name.  He LOVES this hideous chunk of blue painted metal that sputters down the road on its own terms.  For Christmas, my MoM gave him a truck bed cover.  Why? I'm not really sure.  My DaD swears up and down that he gets better gas mileage and that the truck stays on the road better when it's windy.  First of all, he lives in Florida.  Not the Windy City.  Second of all, he lives in Florida.  His gas mileage is always at the mercy of the Snow Birds and how fast the reflex of their foot can reach the gas pedal on any given day.  Oh, and the truck bed cover makes the truck look sportier... I may agree with this.

But I digress, the AC on Big Bleu does not work.  This is not okay.  Did I mention he lives in Florida? So, my DaD orders an AC Compressor.  It came in the mail yesterday.  Rather than having someone who is oh-I-don't-know, a professional? install the AC compressor, I was roped into helping my DaD do this task today.  (He's installing as we speak.) As my DaD positions himself on the ground, under the truck, already covered in grease (eww) he has an AHHA! Moment.  He doesn't know what he's doing! I'm sitting on a chair in the garage drinking an ice cold coke swatting flies away.  My DaD screams, "BRYCE! Go get the MAC and Google something for me!" So that's how we're gonna do this? Now, I've taken to google-ing everything for a step-by-step process as I sit in the shade, drinking my coke.  But you see, my DaD can only hear out of one ear, on a good day.  Today is a half good day meaning he gets about every other thing I say. So I'm barking directions at him.  The entire neighborhood now knows all of Big Bleu's inner workings.   Oh Lawl, he just asked for a hammer.  I'm no car mechanic, but I'm pretty sure any time a hammer is involved, the car never works again.   When he gets to a part that he can't seem to manage he claims, "Welp, this is the Japanese getting back at us for World War 2."  Really? Nothin' but class.

I will say that I am proud of my DaD for having the sense to Google something.  Baby steps.