Tuesday, April 27, 2010

I'm an idiot.. and he's stupid

“I chose to be with you now, didn’t I?” Mr. Stupid told me when we were standing at the bar in the club we had just entered. Slightly appeased, I smiled at him.

But the events of the night came flooding back and my smile faded. What started as an ordinary Friday night, having a couple of drinks with a bunch of friends turned into something I hadn’t quite anticipated happening, at least not so soon.

I met the girl Mr Stupid was dating.

At first it was a bunch of us seated together having drinks, including a close friend from work, her boyfriend, my ex-boss, his friend. And Mr Stupid. Soon everyone left and it was just me and Mr Stupid. I was sipping my mojito when he ordered another round of his whisky with water and we were talking about something I cannot remember, when suddenly out of nowhere this girl comes up to us and plops herself onto Mr Stupid’s chair practically falling on to his lap and gives him a huge hug. Ignoring me for the first few minutes, she talks loudly and fast with him. I’m a little taken aback, so I sit back and watch the whole scene in front of my eyes. She was pretty, I’ll give her that.With long curly but a little unkempt hair and minimal make up (was this his type?). But she was wearing a pants with a ridiculous length, hovering somewhere between her mid-calf and her ankle. I was glad I was wearing a dress. Then I caught myself. What the hell was I doing?

And boy, could she talk a lot. I saw Mr Stupid shift in his chair, was it discomfort? Still talking to him, she turns to me and then says, “Oh sorry. Hi! I’m Miss Gab-A-Lot” and extends her hand to me. I shake her hand and give a smile I’m not feeling and say, “Hi. LittleMissAngry”. She smiles back, turns and continues talking to him. She seems a little too excited and the glass she’s holding follow her hand movements precariously, till it slips out of her fingers, spills half its contents onto his trousers, my dress, pantyhose and shoes (I was sitting pretty close to him and she had somehow managed to plop herself between us) before it went crashing to the floor. She gets all flustered, crouched to the floor trying to clean it up when I realize she’s drunk.

Oh (!)

Her friend comes to get her, while apologizing to Mr. Stupid and me. I dismiss it with a smile and she’s gone for the moment. I turn to Mr Stupid and ask him “Did you know she was here?”.

He says “Yes”.

Before I could continue, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and it is her again. She asks me.. “So, you’re MissAngry?” I say yes. She asks the same question again to which I say yes again. Then she goes “The MissAngry?”

I’m not sure how to respond, so I smile and nod. The she says “Ah. I’ve checked you out on Facebook!” and she turns and walks away.

I turn to Mr Stupid and give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?” I say.

“She’s a little drunk” he says almost apologetically.

“You think?” I said. “And you knew she was here! When were you planning to tell me?”

“I don’t know. I did not anticipate that happening” he said. He looks caught between disbelief and amazement.

“Well, it did. And my shoes are wet and sticky. I cannot believe this. Did you plan this? Having two women in one night? Was that the plan?” I say harshly my anger building up. “She bloody ruined my shoes!”

“I’m sorry. Obviously, I didn’t plan this. And I obviously can’t handle two women in one night…” he said trying to make a joke out of the whole thing. I give him a blank stare.

“I want to leave” I said.

We left the spot, (and to my amazement) he still went over to say goodbye to the drunk lady friend of his…but not before asking me “Do you mind if I go over and say bye to her?”


We left the spot, and went to another club in the same building. He got me a glass vodka because I told him I needed another drink to erase whatever had just transpired. And then it hit me, what if he wanted to be with her??

Feeling sick to the stomach, I asked him “Hey, do you want to get back downstairs? I mean if you want to go back there, its fine. I’ll leave.”

To which he said, looking me right in the eye “I chose to be with you now, didn’t I?”

And I stood there, relishing the moment, thinking that at least for now, I had him all to myself.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

The dating game

One of my closest friend Miss X called me up the other day, depressed. Her mum and aunt are trying to set her up with a guy, basically get her to go on blind date with him. Her aunt mailed her a picture of him. He's 37 which is not a bad age for a guy but when I asked Miss X what she thought of how he looked.

"You know how some guys who are about that age..say like Mr. Stupid (who btw is 36 this year) but don't look it? Well, he's not one of them. He actually looks 37, " she said.

"But how is a 37 year-old supposed to look like?" I asked.

"I don't know! But we go after men who look like guys not men who look like MEN," she said. "And this one looks scarily like a MAN! He's got glasses, wearing one of those silky shirts and looks serious. Basically he looks like a 37 year-old man not a 37 year-old guy."

"But that's not all" she continued "The date on the photo was 2004, which means he looked like this when he was freaking 31!"

I had to laugh but I didn't know what to say to that. Thinking about it now however, I'd day how do you trust someone who shares a picture of himself (and I'm sure to their best interest they would want to share the best picture they've got) which is 6 years old? So what, he hasn't taken a decent picture of himself since? That's a huge flapping red flag if you ask me.

But anyway, I digress. The point I'm trying to make is... 3 maybe even 2 years ago, Miss X and me, we would not have been so obliging to our mums setting us up this way. In fact, we would have been downright hostile. But here we were, a bunch of 30 year olds, actually succumbing to the pressures of society or rather pressures of family, specifically, our terrified mums.

Not to mention certain aunts who, despite their best intentions, make us feel like total crap when they tell us how small the pool is for girls over the age of 30.

But is it just about the age? Is there really a stigma attached to someone like me, who's touched the big 30 with no man in sight? Or are our mums and aunts over-dramatising their concern? And when they convey their concerns, it seems to me, everything is so black and white. You meet a guy. You like him. He likes you. You get married. Happily ever after.

But most of the time, I'm stuck in grey. For example...

Scenario 1
I meet guy. I like guy. Guy seems to like me but guy is commitment phobic and runs the 100m dash (in the opposite direction) when I tell him I like him.

Scenario 2
I meet guy. I like guy. Guy likes me. We kiss and make-out a couple of times. Find out guy also likes 5 other girls.

Scenario 3
I meet guy. I like guy. Guy seems to like me. We go on a date. Then guy never calls.

Scenario 4
I meet guy. I don't like guy. But guy likes me. Guy calls me everyday. And when I don't answer guy texts incessantly till I call guy a psycho and ask him to bugger off.

And so on and so on.

Okay, I'm going way off tangent here. What I'm trying to say, I think, is, "Mum, I know I've turned 30 way faster than you wanted me to. And as much as you want me married and start making babies.. it does look rather bleak right now, and you may have to wait a while before it even remotely starts looking possible.."

Right. If only I could gather the nerve to tell my mum that to her face.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Love always wins

"Have I told you about the tension of opposites" he says.

"Tension of opposites?"

"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn't. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted."

"A tension of opposites..like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle."

"Sounds like a wrestling match" I say

"A wrestling match" He laughs "Yes, you could describe life that way"

"So which side wins?" I ask

He smiles at me. The crinkled eyes, the crooked teeth.

"Love wins. Love always wins."

-Tuesdays with Morrie
Mitch Albom