A few years back I was dating a girl (weird huh?) with quite a peculiar way of building a relationship with someone. First weird part was that she was best friends with her ex boyfriend. Not just the kind of friend that you could call every once in a while and talk about life stresses, but more so the kind of friend that she felt it was ok to sleep over with… In his bed… Because they were ‘just friends.’
She was not the kind of girl any straight guy could simply ‘sleep’ next to and her ex was no guy that should ever turn down anything half as good looking as she is. He wasn’t gay, just an insecure fat guy with a nice guy complex. Funny how that worked out in my favor. I was the one that she was ‘seeing’ outside of her confused relationship with the ex. After all was said and done, she’s now back with him and I think they’re married. Oh well.
Back to my scattered story. When we were pretty well into this relationship, she asked me to take her on a real date. She had never been on a real date and wanted to know what it was like. Dress up, bring flowers, nice restaurant, etc etc… It was the stupidest thing I ever did. How do you do an impromptu date where expectation is everything!? I dug out the dress shirt and tie and ironed some slacks in hopes of impressing this chick that I had already been fucking for a few weeks? Whatever. With the help of her friend, we timed it so I’d show up at her house with some orchids or carnations or whatever and it would almost be like I’m picking up a date for a school dance.
I won’t lie, when she came out of her room she looked like a million bucks. Is that how they say it? The black dress, the hair, the ass… Why were we going out again? We drove to the restaurant where I had reservations and it was one of the most uncomfortable situations I had ever been in. I had to refrain from whispering in her ear all the dirty things I was thinking of doing to her. Instead I had to tell her how beautiful she was and how good she smelled… She was in fact beautiful and she did smell good but the lack of a panty line and glow of her skin that night did nothing for the lack of personality she really had. Long story short here, the night was boring. We took the long way back and upon getting back to her house she wanted nothing more than a kiss and off to home I would go. Did she not realize I shaved my balls for this night! Oh well, the next night would be back to normal…
Now I love to get dressed up and do all that fancy-schmancy stuff but to be forced into it, that’s a whole other story. With this girl, I think she was less than impressed with the whole thing. What does she expect? Just the night before we had a good eight hour romp and I’m supposed to revert back to the courting stage? If she wanted a fun night out why not go camping or to a concert or even to the local dive bar and play some pool?
I’m not a fan of putting on a facade for a few reasons. First of all, what are you going to do with yourself when it wears off and the other person realizes you aren’t the ‘most interesting man in the world?’ Why play all your cards at once? Save the good stuff for later and you’ll find someone who appreciates you for who you are and not what you’ve bought (probably by going too deep into debt). Another reason… What are you hiding? The truth comes out sooner or later and because I’m a guy, I’ll pick on my gender. Too many guys put on this elaborate show for a girl, get her locked in and by the time the relationship needs to go to the next level, the guy has nothin’. His fancy car seems a bit too normal and his sixteen dollar an hour job (rule of doubles: he’ll say he makes twice what he really does to impress) doesn’t seem to be quite what is needed to do really awesome things in life and the personality all of a sudden becomes shit.
Did I mention guys (many, not all) are douchebags? I’ll try to stay off that tangent for now.
Back to what I was saying about facades. If this girl wanted me to treat her right and give her something she’d never forget, she should have simply stopped being a confused slut and given me a reason to want to do something on my own accord. I mean the sex was amazing and the reverse cowgirl was to die for but how about someone that treats me with respect? Not for the money I had or the lengths I would go for someone, but for what I really want out of life.
One of the big reasons I’ve decided to get rid of all my stuff and live with the bare minimums is the quality of people you meet. My boat is smaller than my walk in closet was in North Carolina. My car is probably being spotted right now for some wanna-be Mexican gang chop shop. I’m short. I don’t like awkward conversation. I can do just about any job I want but I’d rather be a garbage man or climb trees simply for the satisfaction of working hard and earning the beer at night. Why would I give any part of my life to someone who can’t appreciate me through all of the above without judgement? When I had the restaurant, I had money… And friends… Funny because the day I sold it and handed the key over, not a single soul was by my side to see me essentially give away something that I had given my life, sanity and well being for. So what’s the point?
Of course one day I’d like to get a nice car again and maybe have a house (or a really big boat) and settle into a community. Until then I want to live life for myself and see what comes of it. No deception, no broken promises or bum expectations… Time to impress myself…