So the beginning went well, as I've come to learn during my short stint in the adult dating world, most dating beginnings usually do. I've also learned it does not serve you will to slap an opinion on a guy/relationship too soon because once the few weeks it takes for the freak flag to rise fully ensue, you'll simply wind up biting your tongue and doing some explaining to your girlfriends as to why the fabulous guy has turned into a douche seemingly overnight. It also helps you to seem a little less like a bipolar freak. I'm sure my poor mother has her doubts concerning her only daughter.
So anyway, it went well before it didn't. I first felt as though the fact that he was very laid back, casual and whatever-like in regard to making plans and such was a plus. No worry about being pressured into dinner/drinks/movies/blah during the week when I'd rather go to the gym, watch Grey's or do nothing at all. Score. Until of course, that casualness turned into total non-plan making. Period. Oh, he still wanted to do things. He wanted a commitment from me as to when we'd see each other next before he left my presence the last time. What would we do? Who knows. Who cares. Equals? Nada. Yeah, as much as I don't want to date a drill sergeant (Ken), I need a guy to make a plan. I don't want to be forced into the plan, but I want a guy to take the reigns. I have no problem with taking them once in a while, but I stress, once in a while. I'm old fashioned. It's just how I roll.
So once I allowed the fireman to enter my cozy apartment, it was love at first sight. For him. He loved my cozy comfy couches, my big plasma TV. I get it. I love them too. That's why I live here. But you my friend, do not. And you are not my boyfriend. Therefore, you still need to date me. And as we've all learned from He's Just Not That Into You, "hanging out is not dating." Basically, somewhere along the line the fireman simply attempted to nail down a date where we'd "do something" with no plan as to what that something would be. I'd bring up places to eat, etc and he was always uninterested. He even went as far as to ask me to lunch on a Saturday afternoon and then show up at my place "not hungry." I'm serious. He said he wasn't really hungry. Considering our plan was to physically eat lunch, I freaking was. I'm not one of those girls who doesn't eat. I eat and this girl was hungry. I told him this. He had no real reaction.
The final straw was on a different Saturday night about 3 weeks ago. We were both going out in the city with our own separate groups of friends. I was already feeling uninterested by this point, but agreed to us meeting up at some point for a drink. He'd be with his friends, I'd be with mine, no harm done. No one-on-one time. We texted on and off throughout the night and I let him know which neighborhood I was in around 11pm. But, it turned into a serious girl night. One of those good dance nights/one friend gets beligerently drunk nights. You know the kind.
Well the fireman kept calling and I finally was able to answer and actually hear him. He asked if he should come over my way, he was getting into a cab, his friends were staying, he was coming alone. Wtf?! So wait, it's 12:30 am, you're going to come to where I am alone without a car i.e. leach yourself onto me for the night? Ew, no thanks. Not the dynamic I was going for. I told him it probably wasn't a good idea, my friends were pretty drunk and I'd be doing some serious babysitting, another time. It was almost 1am anyway, sorta pointless when last call is at 1:30 and it would take him at least that long to get over to where I was anyway. What was the point?
After that phone call he continued to call and call and call. I'm talking about 15-20 times. I didn't answer. I told him not to come, period end of story. By that time my friend and I were in a late night pizza joint enjoying some greasy food, watching the drunks walk by, and talking to other drunk pizza patrons. I just looked at my phone as he called and called. Totally turned me off. I mean, come on man. Then he started texting me. "Where are you?" "Where are you, babe?" Ugh, babe? Really? Loathe when that comes from guys who have no business using it. Then, "I'm around the corner, where are you?" "I'm here, where are you?" Phone call, phone call, phone call. You get the point. It's after 2am by now. I was so annoyed that he was there but still planned to ignore. I told you not to come, not my problem. So then my friend and I walk out of the pizza place, turn the corner, and who is standing on the corner ON THE FREAKIN' PHONE? You guessed it. The fireman. I wanted to throw up in my mouth.
Long story short, he shows up, no car, no where to stay, too drunk to drive (so he said) and couldn't go home (so he said). We tried to get him to stay at my friend's place in the city but he was just so damn persistent and I am too damn nice. I wound up bringing him home with me with the promise he'd have someone bring him to his car in the morning. On the car ride home I explained how I just wasn't that into him anymore. It was awkward, but it was needed. Especially after that awkward spectacle. Shit, he forced it. He slept on my couch, as he always did. I never let that boy into my bed. In the morning he made no attempts to "call a friend" and my dumb ass drove him to his car. We parted with my agreeing to one more date to see if something might still be there. Damn my niceness. Never fails to be taken advantage of. Why can't I be a cold-hearted bitch when necessary?!
So he went to FL for a week and said he wouldn't call me, I should call him. So of course I didn't. The more time that went by, the more disgusted and turned off I was with his behavior. His lack of effort in an attempt to gain maximum benefits. I mean really. So I decided I'd have yet another talk with him to let him know it was done. I have to. Finalize the deal. Why put myself through anymore? He failed. He's friends with my good friends' boyfriend. There's no sweeping this one under the rug. Believe me, I contemplated it.
So I finally called him last week. The day I call him to break the news is the same day his grandmother has a stroke and he spends the day in the hospital. Fabulous. Totally bad form if I broke the news then. So I listened for about 45 minutes, wished my best, and told him we'd talk later. I figured I should at least wait until his grandmother is OK and out of the hospital. I called him over the weekend--g-mom is still hospitalized and I am still an ass allowing this thing to drag on. I still, have yet, to break the news. But, I've called twice so I feel good about myself. I'm not calling anymore. I don't owe this guy all of that. Done.
So I just spent way much more time than I would have preferred discussing the fireman. Sorry about that.
In other news I just got over the stomach flu. (Wow, aren't I a barrel of fun--failed relationships, stomach flu, fabulous).
P.S. I lied. You know what sealed the deal? As I was explaining to him how there was simply something missing between the two of us, he said, "Why are you playing so hard to get?" I felt like saying (and wish I would have because it's true):
I'm not playing hard to get, I am hard to get.
Quote me on that ish.
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