i attract the winners
So the sort of mediocre not-date thing from Wednesday became an unacceptable stalking thing over the course of yesterday.
In retrospect, I suppose I shouldn't even have classified the evening as mediocre, but the guy did seem nice, just obviously lonely and excited to be going out with someone. Also it was kind of amusing that we had NOTHING in common -- I agreed to see him in the first place because I thought that could be interesting. And, the most practically positive thing about the night, I do know now that the Mexican place next to my office makes a very fine margarita.
But, really, things that should have alerted me to trouble:
Me: This can only be drinks for fun, not a date.
Him: Why?
Me: I'm seeing someone. (Untrue, but I really didn't want this up for dispute.)
Him: Are you married or engaged?
Me: No.
Him: I choose to think of this as a date.
Him: I need you to be my best friend. Maybe I met you so you can tell me what to do with my life.
Me: I'm kind of sad -- a couple of my good friends are moving away this summer.
Him: Good.
And then yesterday he called me four times. Thrice at work when I would not pick up the phone. And then a fourth time when, due to a call-waiting mishap, I picked up by accident. Within two minutes of conversation he was asking me what size clothing I wore so that he could shop for me. How stupid is life sometimes?
And as a general observation, I think the last four dates or non-dates or quasi-dates I've been on and at least one chance conversation on the street have involved me explaining the entire concept of piercing to the guy ("Well, what does it look like? They take a bit of metal and they ram it through your skin. Yes, THROUGH; it is not an optical illusion. No, there is no anesthaesia.") and then being asked to list my piercings. Which are always regarded as so freaking exotic. Clearly, my greatest appeal is to stodgy older men as a novelty-freak-strumpet. I must meet different sorts of people. It's a pity Pete flaked out; there would have been none of that "My, god, what is that exciting bit of metal you're sporting?" from a piercer.
On the meeting other people front, I will be going to this Beltane Ball/Harem of the Shadows thing with ambiguously British boy (aka Ryan) on Sunday. Possibly he will also be at the Dark Fantasy Festival on Saturday. I am excited about the cool accent and the fact that he wanted to discuss costume coordination when we made plans. Less excited that it turns out he's a plumber. I do wish I were less snotty and found this not so disappointing...but plumber.
Ideally, I would stop be insane and defeatist and misanthropic about relationships and/or potential relationships. Much more probably, I am going to continue making frequency charts of the letters appearing in the names of all the men I've known since the age of 11 and marking calendars to demonstrate my Sept.-Feb. propositioning dry-spell theory which holds that as I am never, never asked out in fall or winter, I only have four months to go before I can revert to being bitter, isolated, and non-stressed.