Through all the years of my life, I have come to the conclusion that I am good for two things: Getting myself into awful situations, and living to tell about the aftermath. Some of these involve alcohol, some involve medications, but ALL of them include my general dumbassery which far outweighs the effects of anything else. These are the stories. Don’t judge me.
The Time I accidentally Dated a Dude
When you have been in a relationship for a very long time, you tend to lose touch with the dating game (or at least you should). So when the relationship kersplodes into the pile of crap it inevitably is doomed to be and one is thrust back into the dating scene, it can be quite daunting. Afterall, what the fuck are the rules? Can you simply walk up and grab a girl’s boobs (the answer is no)? Can you buy them drinks until you are blurry enough to go home with (sometimes)? And how do you know when someone is coming on to you, into you or simply just being nice?
All of this and more can lead to some pretty confusing and embarrassing situations if and when you read a situation the wrong way. Luckily for me, I am way too shallow to worry for too long, and typically way to drunk to even remember most dating mishaps. But every now and then, a misstep is so great, so…momentous, that no booze in the world can erase the brain of it. This is one of those times.
When I lived in San Ramon, California, I would frequent a sports bar in Dublin call “Buffalo Wild Wings,” quite a bit. The beer was cold, the sports were always on and, well, the women were fairly easy. Or at least dressed as such. Over time, I got used to eating and drinking by myself and was actually quite comfortable sitting at the bar and making new friends that I loved by the end of the night (on account of being a happy drunk), and couldn’t give two shits about in the morning (on account of being an angry sober). Life, at that moment, was pretty fun.
Then, one night, I happened to be seated at the bar watching an NBA game, when a guy about my age asked if the seat next to me was taken. Knowing that there were a few other places available at the bar that weren’t practically on my lap, I decided to take the high road and not tell him to fuck off. As he sat there and ordered whatever drink he ordered, he started to ask me about the game. I let him know the score as well as the overall flow of it and he was surprisingly up to speed with his sports knowledge.
This was impressive to me since A: I am a sports nerd and B: most people I talk to sports about really know next to nothing about them. The night went long and after properly introducing ourselves, we got to talking about our personal situations. He proceeded to tell me how he had moved down here from Portland and that he really didn’t know too many folks and came to this establishment because folks were friendly and, “the girls were easy, or at least dressed like it.” Naturally I felt we would get along. We exchanged numbers and I told him that the next time I went out on the town, that I would call him up.
Apparently that wasn’t soon enough for the guy as he called me the next night and asked to meet up for a drink. I thought it was sort of odd, but figured, what the hell? The Lakers are on TV, and he said the first round was on him. So I met the guy out at a bar, sucked down a drink or two and called it a night.
Then he texted me the next day asking when we were going to kick it again. I politely turned him down simply because I had shit to do and told him we would hang out soon. He asked when, to which I replied with something witty and left it at that. As the days turned into weeks, I found myself searching for excuses to avoid the guy, or at least drag other friends along so I wasn’t stuck hearing the same bullshit stories from him about how successful he was doing this or that. And the more people I introduced him to, the more people would ask me if he was gay, or what his “deal,” was. Even though he was not gay, I did agree that his behavior towards me was a little off, even if our bromance was fresh. And lets be honest, relationships are always best when everything is new.
One night, good friends of mine were in town and I had made plans to swing by and see them and their two kids. As I was getting ready to head over, my new, clingy friend calls me and invites me out to watch the Lakers-Celtics game. I told him I had plans but he insisted, saying that he would pay for the drinks and that he totally understood that I would have to leave early. So we met at a sports bar, where he proceeded to be late, which irked me more than it probably should have. I sucked down my cup o’ suds and told him I had to leave. He was pissed but ultimately said goodbye and that he would call me later.
After brushing that off, I went over to the house where my friends were staying. The husband, Josh, knew that I was out with my buddy before coming out and when he walked into the room where I and his wife Sarah were talking, the following revelation was had.
Josh: “How was your man date?”
Me (sarcastically): “Oh it went real well.”
Josh: “Nice, did he put out…or did you?”
Sarah: “Wait, you are dating a guy?”
Me: “No, Josh is just pulling my chain.”
Josh: “Oh really? Where did you meet this guy?”
Me: “…at a bar…”
Josh: “And how often do you guy see each other?”
Me: “We hang out a few times a week.”
Josh: “And who pays for the drinks?”
Me: “He does…shit I am dating a dude!”
Josh: “And you said you met him a month ago? You are either going to have to put out soon or he is going to dump you.”
Me: “Yeah, I know. Fucking A, how did this happen?”
Sarah: “You’re a slut, that’s how it happened.”
Me: “Do I break up with him over the phone or do I have to do it in person?”
For those keeping track at home, I decided to do the honorable thing and simply avoid any and all phone calls, texts, and e-mails until he finally got the hint.