currylove

Posts Tagged ‘humor

So there was all this flurry of activity of a potential new match: Doctor, divorced, same age as me, etc etc. The usual.

Dad sends me an email telling me to ask around to see if any of my friends know him. Mom calls his mom directly. The conversation they had follows:

My Mom (giving some information): She was born in ’77.

His mom (being a bitch): Oh, we’re looking for someone who’s 30 or 31.

My Mom (being awesome): Ok, good luck. Bye. *CLICK*

MOM HUNG UP ON THIS WOMAN!!! This woman who thinks her doctor son, who has a child, is going to trap some young babe into marrying him. Which, who knows, maybe he will. Who cares? Not me.

Mom then tells me, “Yeah, he plays cricket, which I thought was weird for a boy born here, so I wanted to make sure about some things.” And then she laughs and says, “They’re stupid.”

She totally listened to all the clues and did her research!!! I am so proud!

Meanwhile, any boy’s mom who says “WE” are looking for someone definitely means that I am not the someone who they’re looking for. Single is better than trapped.

 

 

 

And I’ve had ONE FUCKING DATE. ONE.

A DATE.

Jesus Christ I should just buy my 50 cats now and succumb to the inevitable.

“How was the date?” I hear you asking.

I showed up at the chosen location, and there was a bit of a line for the hostess table. I essentially almost ran into him as he was at the end of the line, and when I did realize it was him, I also realized I was LOOKING DOWN AT HIM TO SAY HELLO.

I’m 5’2″ (157.5 cm for my metric readers). I was hearing boots with about a 1 inch heel. That made me a grand total of 5’3″.  And I was looking DOWN at him.

BUT! Even still! We had a decent date! Conversation was good, it was semi-flirty. I mean, I wasn’t gonna sleep with him, but I wasn’t repulsed. That’s a good date these days.

He even gave me a ride home at the end of the night. I texted him to say thanks for dinner/drinks and wished him a fun time at the festival he was going to the next day. I even left an opening: “Tell me how it is!”

He texted back a couple of hours later to say “If you ever want to try that new Indian place, let me know.”

And that was that. Never heard from him again.

cat lady

 

 

 

 

So a couple of months back my parents found this guy somehow and I ended up chatting with him on whatsapp. Without further ado, let the texts speak for themselves:

 

Text1 Text2 Text3 Text4 Text5

 

Why did it take me so long to post these?  I was just so annoyed. SO ANNOYED.

Asshole basically called me a judgmental gold digger.

I told my parents the story and had more than a high pitched voice and was telling them how awful he was, and my dad just goes:

Why are you getting all upset? Just don’t talk to him.

Which made me laugh because that was what I was going to do anyway, but I was all prepped for a fight with them about how I had to keep trying and how he probably wasn’t so bad but no.

Even they’ve given up hope now.

Dad even said,

If he texts you again, just tell him that he can’t start a relationship on the wrong foot. The ship already sailed!

Mixed metaphor, but yes, he’s right.

Luckily, I never heard from this douche again.

 

 

 

 

So, I was going to delete my Indian dating profile because it’s fucking useless and then this guy who reached out to me caught my eye.

Attractive, physician, a couple of years older than me… only issue was he lives in California.  But, I emailed him back because you never know, and he sent an email response almost immediately.

He wanted to skip the emailing and go straight to the phone, which was fine. We played phone tag for a little bit, but finally chatted tonight.

FOR 7 MINUTES.

MOST OF WHICH WAS SPENT TALKING ABOUT HOW LONG DISTANCE NEVER WORKS.

Ummmm….. YOU contacted ME, asswipe. YOU knew I don’t live anywhere near California, but still reached out. YOU should’ve known that you didn’t want to deal with long distance BEFORE emailing someone on the other side of the country.

As we chatted and it’s becoming clear he thinks the distance is too big, he goes on to say, in a voice that’s trailing off:

Well, we can still talk, you know, feel free to reach out and call me and I’ll do the same and maybe we can meet up.

Feel free to fuck yourself.

That’s harsh, but really, I’m not calling…. I would’ve made effort if he wasn’t already so defeatist.

Who knows, maybe he’ll have some shit dates and reach out like all the other assholes, but I’m not putting effort into something that the other person thinks is doomed from the start. What’s the point of wasting my time?

 

someecards

 

 

 

So out of the blue, because Mercury is in retrograde still, on Sunday I got a text from this guy I had chatted with last year from one of the Indian dating websites. It didn’t go anywhere last year, per usual, but he was going to be in town for a couple of nights and wanted to see if I wanted to meet up on Monday for coffee or dinner. I said yes, because why not?

We ended up going to dinner at a pizza place that is totally not date friendly. It’s loud, it’s family style seating and it’s hot since you’re basically sitting in the damn kitchen. The pizza’s good though.

Anyway, the whole date was just awkward. Like super fucking awkward.

First off, he starts with questioning me on why I was so ‘short’ with him on text. I hadn’t remembered this at all, but after he brought it up MULTIPLE times I finally remembered. Basically he wanted to have in-depth conversation on whatsapp, and I didn’t.

Just pick up the phone and call, but don’t try to get paragraphs of information out of me on fucking messenger. It’s never gonna happen. So I don’t really understand why he even reached out if he was still clearly annoyed by that, but I guess he wanted to give it a try? Who knows.

Then, he starts talking about how he has to talk to so many “bitches.”

BITCHES. HE CALLED THE WOMEN HE TALKS TO BITCHES. ON A DATE WITH ME.  I mean, looking back, I guess I’m also in that category to him? I have no idea. Again, it was so weird.

In his defense, he has met quite a few not nice girls from what he told me, but he was also clearly taking it out on me in some way… like he had such a chip on his shoulder about all these other girls who were mean or dismissive, and I guess he thought I was as well? But then why bother to ask me out?

And I was being “not a bitch”! I was commiserating on his crappy experiences, and being optimistic about our night out, and trying to be engaging and entertaining.  So dinner and conversation continues and I actually had fun! Even though it was slightly awkward, he had some really interesting things to say, and he’s really an interesting person too. There were glimpses of potential.

But then. He starts asking about how often I log on to the dating site, and I told him that I hadn’t been logging in to it recently.

AND THEN I GOT LECTURED.

“Shouldn’t you put in effort to find someone? Don’t you want a family? Why do so many girls not try? I mean, your job’s not going to make you happy forever. Why even have a profile if you don’t care? Don’t you want to find someone? “

I KNOW. I FUCKING KNOW.

And he’s not wrong. He’s absolutely not wrong. But I don’t go on dates to be lectured. I mean, sure, go ahead and think that. And maybe at some point, bring it up … but on the first date?

Again, the whole thing is so weird because while he’s semi-lecturing me and telling me about the horrible girls he meets, he wanted to continue chatting.

So, we went to get gelato, and he spoke in Gujarati to me. Which is fine. I’m fluent. But that doesn’t mean I want to respond in it…  it just felt like he was testing me to see if I was telling the truth about speaking. He asked me, in Gujarati, if I wanted some gelato now that I’d seen it. I told him, in English, “eh, not so much. I’ll just have a little.” He went on to translate that into Gujarati and then try to make me say it back.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

The poor teenage gelato kid. He was probably hoping the old assholes speaking semi-English in front of him would just order a damn scoop and go so he could close up.

Here’s the thing. I’m not shy to speak in my language. But I don’t want to be goaded into it, or treated like a child when doing so. It was again, so awkward.

But all of that to say, he wasn’t a full out asshole. He was nice and paid for dinner and there were things about him that I really enjoyed and actually look for in a partner.

He walked me to my car, and as we said goodbye, he just kinda stood there. So I hugged him goodbye. Which was also awkward because I had to move towards him to do that, and he wasn’t exactly reciprocating so it was a weird half-hug. I thanked him in person for dinner and told him I had fun, and that I hoped to see him soon.

No response to any of that, which probably should’ve been my first clue.

I texted him when I got home to say thanks again for dinner, it was nice meeting him, and to ask if he made it back to his hotel ok.

NO RESPONSE.

NOT A FUCKING TEXT BACK. Not even to say “yup, i’m at the hotel” or “sorry never wanna see you again” or “Damn all you bitches!”

Nothing.

The perplexing thing about ALL of this is is that he wonders why I don’t make more effort online….but the thing is, I made effort in ACTUAL PERSON. Like, who fucking cares about what happened online.

I PUT ON A DRESS AND HEELS. FOR PIZZA. THAT WE HAD TOGETHER IN REAL LIFE.

What the fuck is wrong with these guys? Or is it still me?

 

 

 

 

Fuck  my life.

No, actually, fuck my non existent love life.  The rest of my life is fine, fun even. But the romance department? Just ugh.

I’ve been semi-talking to this doctor that my parents introduced me too. We’ve had a hard time connecting with schedules that are pretty opposite, but recently we’ve been able to chat.

On Monday, we talked for a bit but he was on call and also getting his dad’s new phone set up, so we kept it short – he got a couple of calls from the answering service and then got to his dad’s place, so needed to go. No big deal.

Wednesday we talked for about 10 minutes. In those 10 minutes, he apologized MULTIPLE times for  (1) it having been so hard to catch each other and (2) for having to put me on hold a few times on Monday. He started with an apology. Midway he provided another apology. He ended with TWO apologies.

HOLY FUCK MAN. STOP APOLOGIZING FOR HAVING A LIFE.

Which… I finally said. Not so meanly, but firmly.  I guess he’s trying to be nice/polite, but CLEARLY he doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Treat me like shit and I’ll be so much more captivated. (Sadly only semi-joking about that.)

Also in those 10 minutes, he told me how his nephew called him bald. Except the story wasn’t that short. FIRST I had to listen to where the kid’s car seat was positioned in the car. WHO CARES. WHO FUCKING CARES. And then I had to hear how his nephew ‘cutely’ asked him, “Why is your hair running away?”

….. I don’t think he’s lying, but who the hell is his nephew? Is he taking lessons from Michelle on Full House?

AND THEN. THEN…. to cap off this entire conversation (which has so far been apologies and weird kid stories), he was doing laundry and says, “Oh wow. I just noticed I had on two different colors of beige socks today!”

Beige socks.

Fuck my love life.

 

 

 

 

So when Philly was here, we went on our bar crawl. After drinking many many many drinks, we decided to take a break for some food.

We found some seats and asked our bartender what he liked better: the tofu tacos or the tofu philly cheesesteak.

He said he liked the tacos, but we blew off his recc and went with the philly.

Out comes our food and I take a big drunken bite.

It’s delicious. I literally thought:

This is the best tofu I’ve ever had!

And then, we looked at the food.

And even looking at it, I couldn’t figure out how they made the tofu so delicious and yummy and …brown.

And then Philly double checked with the bartender that we actually had the tofu version of the cheesesteak and not the beefy version.

Turns out the reason the tofu was so damn delicious was because it was MEAT.

I haven’t had red meat in about 20 years.

OMG. WHAT HAVE I BEEN MISSING?

Now, I’m not reverting to a carnivore any time soon, and I was PISSED about the mix-up. But, we should’ve checked our food and not trust some dummy behind the bar, who chalked it up to ‘miscommunication.’

But what really pissed me off? MORE than being given something I haven’t eaten in two decades?? THE ASSHOLE TRIED TO CHARGE US FOR THE FOOD.

They did replace it with the not-so-delicious tofu version but actually still tried to make us pay.

In my drunken state, I think I said the following:

There is no way in fucking hell that I’m paying for something that I didn’t order and didn’t want to eat.

He took it off the bill but after he acted like WE were in the wrong for even suggesting that it shouldn’t be a charge.

Meanwhile, this has happened before (and I expect it, and I’m typically more careful when I haven’t been drinking for hours at a time) and THAT time? The waitress not only apologized a dozen times to the point where it was uncomfortable, she comped my WHOLE meal, not just the food portion. It’s just decent customer service, you know?

AND OMG.

As I’m typing this out… is this whole mix up a metaphor for my life?!?!!? 

I didn’t want the boring bland Asian food pretending to be something it’s not.

BUT I LOVED THE ALL AMERICAN MEAT.

Maybe I need to be more honest with myself?

I mean, I’m not going back to meat but I don’t enjoy tofu – so why do I keep trying?

And I don’t like dating the Indian boys I’ve met –  so why do I keep trying?

 

 


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