This is my last week in Chicago. While I am very excited for my new job and adventure in Orange County, I am also sad to be leaving all of the friends I have made here over the past 6+ years. One of those friends is Mr. Titspervert, who took me to lunch today since he won’t be able to attend my going away party. He asked if I had any good dating stories of late, and I am sorry to say, the well is dry.
It’s kind of hard to date when you’re jobless, and depressed about being jobless, and don’t feel like you have much to offer because you’ve also gained weight, so I had to go back to the end of Dec/beginning of January when I was dating…let’s call him Johnny Utah.
Utah lured me to his apartment under the false pretenses of cooking me dinner, but when I got there, there was no dinner, no dinner prep, no nothing, in fact, except for lit candles intermittently lying around his apartment. When I presented him with a bottle of wine, his response was, “why did you bring that?” (I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE TO GO WITH THE DINNER YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO COOK ME, MORON). Anyway – my gut was telling me to run, and run fast. But running is what I do best, and I had promised my therapist I would try not to be so quick to judge or find flaws and really put some effort into this one. And so I stayed.
When I relayed all this to Mr. TP, he offered a suggestion that no one else had. Even though he’s married now, he was a carefree bachelor once and can still think like one – and he said to me, “do you think he was dating more than one person and got his nights mixed up?” I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner! Of course! He probably invited someone else over for “dinner” and forget he offered to actually COOK for me and then got confused and I ended up trying to drink a glass of wine while getting felt up and watching an NFL playoff game. It makes perfect sense!
A Series of Very Bad Decisions 