when giving out your number goes wrong…again

It’s not very often that (what I consider) an attractive man asks me for my number on the street.

A kinda-decent-in-the-right-light looking guy – possibly.

A man you have absolutely zero interest or attraction to – most likely.

But a man who I’m actually attracted to? Hardly ever.

(and no, I’m not too picky – I can’t help who I am (and am not) attracted to. So save it)

Which is why, when I was on my way to the train and saw this fine piece of man walking towards me, I didn’t think anything of it and continued checking my email on my phone. When I looked up and noticed that he was staring at me, I thought maybe something was on my face. Then when he slowed down to say hello, I realized that he was showing interest in me.

Jackpot!

So we had a (very) brief conversation on the sidewalk before exchanging numbers.

The next day he sent me a text at 4:30pm.

This is how our conversation went:

Him: Hey

Me: Hey

Him: What u doing

Me: Working. You?

Him: in the city.

Now, this stumped me a little. I wasn’t sure if he was asking me if I worked in the city, or telling me that he was in the city. So I asked for clarification…

Me: You’re in the city?

Him: Yea

Me: Oh, Ok.

15 minutes later…

Him: Good day?

Me: Yeah, so far. It was pretty slow, which was nice. You? Are you working in the city?

Him: Yea I finished

Me: Oh ok.

Him: What time you finish

I’m trying really hard not to judge his grammar considering it’s via text.

He asked a few more questions (what time I got out of work, if I lived with roommates, etc etc) before saying:

I wish I could of seen you tonight somehow

At this point, not only is his grammar irking me, but I also wanted to remind him that he never actually asked to see me. If that was his way of asking, he’s going to have to do better. Since I wouldn’t have been able to meet up even if he had asked, I let it slide.

Me: What’s your schedule typically like?

Him: Changes

Me: Oh Ok.

5 days later…

Him: What’s up

Me: Nothing much just working. You?

Him: What’s you doing after work

Me: Meeting up with a couple of old coworkers

Him: When imma see you

No. None of what was just typed was a typo on my part. And yes, he did actually say When imma see you

Imma? Really? Look, I wouldn’t say that I speak ‘proper’ English all the time. In fact, I’ve definitely said ‘imma’ before – I’m a fast talker and my words tend to run into each other. However, you’re typing. You have the option of fixing that shit before you hit send. Just sayin’…

Me: Whenever you actually try to make plans to see me.

Him: tonight lol after your coworkers

This is now the 2nd time that this guy has tried to ‘make plans’ with me on the same day – within hours from when he wants to meet up. I’m all for spontaneity, but it would be nice if he actually asked ahead of time to take me out.

Me: I won’t be done until late.

Him: tomorrow

Me: I have class tomorrow, but I get out at 8:30. I can either meet up for then for a bit, or I can do next Wednesday after work.

Him: Next Wednesday then.

Me: Ok, sounds good.

Him: send me a pic

UGH! One of my biggest turn offs/ pet peeves is when a guy that I barely know (or in his case, don’t know at all) asks me to text him a picture (this comes second to wearing sunglasses at night – which we’ll get to shortly). It just comes off sleazy to me.

Me: why did you forget what I looked like already?

Him: no, I just wanted one

Me: Oh ok. I’m not really a big fan of sending pics. Sorry.

At this point I really didn’t want to anything to do with this guy, but it had been so long since I’d been on a date, I felt that I owed it to myself to go. Of course, I asked my friends what they thought and got mixed responses. Some saying just go, what can it hurt and others saying don’t waste your time. So I decided to think on it over the weekend.

And of course, he made my decision for me.

Monday night at 11p I get a text from him

I’m driving around bored…what u doing

Wow…how sweet.

Me: eating dinner

Him: can I see you?

Again with the last-minute bullshit. And this time it’s damn near midnight.

Me: um wow…really? No.

Him: why not how cum

Yes, my friends. That is how he spelled ‘how come.’ Gross.

Me: it’s quite clear that all you want to do is have sex, which is fine, but you come off really sleazy so I’m really just turned off now.

Him: are you crazy?

Ah, yes. There it is. The ‘you’re crazy’ line. Why is it that men always assume a woman is either crazy or a lesbian if they aren’t interested in them? Me telling you that it seems like all you want is sex when you constantly contact me last-minute and then reach out at 11pm because ‘you’re bored’ when I don’t even know you does not make me crazy. You haven’t seen crazy, boo boo.

Him: I want to come get you and have a drink

Well, at least he spelled ‘come’ correctly.

Me: It’s 11:30 at night and I work tomorrow, for one. For two, this is now the 3rd time that you’ve reached out right before you’re trying to ‘hang out.’ You have not once reached out to actually speak to me. No, I’m not crazy, I’m just no longer interested.

I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night (shocker). I thought I wouldn’t hear from him at all, but then 2 days later…

I’m sorry…I really wanna get I know u

Again, not a typo on my part.

One month later…

Hi

2 Weeks after that…

blogger-image-577097617*

*Note: I would typically be against posting identifying information about someone on my blog (names, pictures, screen names, etc), but since this dude decided it was a good idea to text a random woman his picture, my guess is that he wouldn’t mind

These are wrong on SO many levels, but let’s just state the obvious, shall we?

1. Self portrait…in the bathroom mirror…wearing sunglasses…inside…

I don’t think I need to go on, but just for shits and giggles…

2. I have not responded to his texts in over a month. Not one. And the last time that I did respond, it was to tell him that I thought he was sleazy and that I was turned off and no longer interested.

Yes, sir, sending me unsolicited pictures of yourself in the bathroom mirror in a coca-cola shirt and sunglasses is a great idea! I have no idea why I would have gotten a sleazy vibe from you…

3. He sends me, not one, but THREE versions of said picture. Apparently, he couldn’t decide what pose was best – hat forward, hat backwards, or the ‘artistic’ side mirror angle.

Brilliant

A month and a half later I get another “Hi” text from him. Then the next day, I get a “Hey” text.

Now I’m starting to get annoyed. So I respond.

Me: I think you might have me confused with someone else. Please stop texting me.

Him: It’s (my name). I know exactly who you are. tub fronting.

I’m assuming that’s supposed to say STOP fronting. We all know by now that he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Either that, or his auto-correct hates him.

Me: Ok. Either way…please stop texting me. Thanks.

Him: smfh why

Me: I don’t even know you! You didn’t make a real attempt at all to get to know me before asking to come to my house and pick me up at almost midnight. I tell you I’m not interested and you keep texting me for months – one time to send me 3 pictures of yourself, taken BY yourself, in a bathroom mirror (wearing sunglasses indoors I might add)…

Him: I apologize for that. I’m trying to make better. I’m not that way.

Him: I don’t to be looked as that , lets restart and have a dinner date and talk , I can be a very gentleman.

Not that I should have to clarify this by now, but those are not typos on my part.

Me: No thank you.

Him:

ok...so maybe I feel a little bad putting his picture online. Since his face isn't covered with glasses and a hat, I blocked it out to protect the not so innocent.

ok…so maybe I feel a little bad putting his picture online. Since his face isn’t covered with glasses and a hat, I blocked it out to protect the not so innocent.

Ugh..this guy.

Me: Seriously leave me alone. I don’t want pictures of you. I don’t want a million ‘hi’ texts. Just stop. You claim you’re a gentleman, so act like one and stop bothering me.

So far that seemed to work. I have not heard from him since, and that was 4 months ago, so I think I’m in the clear.

Phew…

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laundromat loco

This past summer I had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Neto at the laundromat by my house. And by running into, I mean he chased me down as I was walking out of the door with a bag of clean laundry.

To be honest, he lost me at hello. He had this white crusty shit in the corners of his mouth that made me want to both gag and offer him a glass of water. I didn’t want to be rude since, clearly, he lived in the neighborhood. I figured I’d exchange a little small talk with him  while making it clear that I wasn’t really interested and be on my way.

Neto wasn’t having that.

First of all, this guy did not shut up. He had questions lined up for days! And when I would answer his questions in a vague / I’m-have-no-interest-in-this-conversation way, he would just keep asking the same question until I answered. This is, roughly, how the conversation went:

Excuse me, miss, how you doin’?

I’m fine, thanks.

Oh ok. I’m Neto.

Ok, nice to meet you.

….what’s your name.

Amber.

Ooh ok…where are you from?

Upstate.

Where upstate?

Near Albany

But where?

*sigh* Uhhh….Catskill.

Oh ok. yeah yeah…pfff…yeah of course, I know Catskill. The Catskills! The Catskill Mountains!

Yeah. Well. It’s the town of Catskill but yeah same thing I g….

Yeah, yeah…me and my family go used to go up there all the time! Bear Mountain and (blahblahblahblah – I was half listening to him at this point)…so I know that area really well.

Oh ok.

So where did you go to school?

Pace University.

Oh ok. Yeah I know Pace. Near the Brooklyn Bridge right?

Well, I went to the Westchester Campus, but yeah the NY one is….

Oooh ok ok ok. Yeah I know Westchester. I have family up there…you know, in Yonkers, New Rochelle, Ossining. All those places.

Riiight…

Where was that campus again?

Briarcli..

Riiiigh riiiight…Briarcliff. I know Briarcliff.

Clearly, this Neto knows it all. In fact, I’m not sure why he was even having this conversation with me…he could’ve just had it with himself. He obviously didn’t want me to speak too much since he kept interrupting me every time I answered his stupid questions.

So, what’s your nationality?

*sigh* uhh..I’m Black and Italian.

Ooh ok. Italiano! Nice! Where in Italy is your family from?

I don’t know.

You don’t know? Are they from Napels? Rome? Sicily? Venice?

I really don’t know.

Ooh ok ok. You know my name is actually an Italian name – but I don’t spell it N-I-T-T-O like the Italians do, I spell mine N-E-T-O

I see.

At this point in the conversation there was the slightest bit of a pause – So I jumped on my chance to bow out.

Ok, well I gotta get going.

Oh, alright.

and then the inevitable happened.

Listen…we should keep in touch. Can I get your number?

Mmm…no I don’t think so.

Why not?

I just don’t think it’s a good idea.

But why?

I actually have a boyfriend.

No you don’t

Um..excuse me?

No you don’t. You don’t have a boyfriend. But that’s alright though. I’m good. I’m gooood. I’m a celebrity Personal Trainer, you know, so I’m doing alright in that department.

Was this guy serious? Ok, so maybe I was lying about the boyfriend thing. But only because I tried to just say no without a lie, and he wouldn’t accept it. So I went to the tried and true back up that every woman uses – I pulled the boyfriend card. Now usually, even if the guy does think you’re lying, he has a bit more self-respect and dignity to actually call you a liar to your face. It just makes him look crazy. AND there is no way to prove that I’m lying…so if I’m not lying you look like a real asshole. As all this is going through my head, all I could do was giggle and say:

Oh ok..wow that’s great.

My clients have been in magazines! I work with Sean John models and all kinds of celebrities so that’s alright I’m good. Trust me.

Great. Good for you. I’m still not interested.

I’m serious. I’ve done some modeling too. You see all this Nike I’m wearing? Head to toe? That’s because they sponsor me.

Little did he know, I don’t even like Sean John, or Puffy, or P-Diddy or whatever the hell he goes by. I think his music sucks, his clothes suck, and everything about his persona sucks. But at this point I’m starting to get annoyed, and embarrassed for him. His desperation and insecurity was becoming unbearable…as was the crust building up in the corners of his mouth.

Listen. Clearly, you’re talking to the wrong woman because I am really not impressed by any of that. So I’m going to go now. Have a good one, k?

Yeah alright. That’s fine. It’s all good….(continues babbling as I walk away)

For a while I completely forgot about Neto. I saw him once or twice over the summer, walking down the block without a shirt on (which is actually a huge turn off for me even if it isn’t coming from a desperate psycho. Unless we’re at the beach or in the bed room – keep you damn shirt on). But I never ran into him at the laundry mat again.

Until today.

It was a holiday, so instead of doing my laundry on Sunday, like I typically do, I decided to wait until today since I had the day off. Clearly everyone else was thinking the same thing because it was PACKED. All was going pretty well…I had managed to split up my clothes into the available washers and was waiting for the final spin cycle to be complete when Neto walked in.

Muther. F**k*r

Thank God for my iPhone, which faithfully kept me busy so I didn’t risk making eye contact with the crazy.

Then, as he was walking past me with a clothing cart, he almost ran my toes over (like I said it was PACKED) and he said ‘excuse me, excuse me, sorry about that miss’

Holy Shit. This guy doesn’t remember me. SWEET!!!!

Little did I know, that wasn’t such a good thing. I was about to experience Groundhogs Day with Neto.

My final spin cycle finished and there were three driers open and waiting for me. I took a look around and Neto was no where in sight. I just might get out of here without a run in! So I put my clothes in and watched them dry, while making some small talk with the woman next to me.

About 10 / 15 minutes later, guess who comes around the corner and starts looking for a drier.

Neto.

Realizing there weren’t any available at that moment, he decided to stand right next to me and wait for one to free up.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

I should have just walked outside, but I didn’t want to leave my clothes unattended. And then it happened.

Hey, how you doin’?

I’m fine, thanks.

Oh ok. I’m Neto.

Ok, nice to meet you.

….what’s your name.

Amber.

Oh ok…who gave you that name?

*incredibly confused look* uuhh…my…pa…rents…?

No I know I know, I figured that, I wasn’t sure if you knew which one gave it to you. Like, my Dad named my sister, so my Mom named me. I wasn’t sure if your parents had something worked out like that.

I…don’t know.

Ooh ok…where are you from?

Upstate.

Where upstate?

Near Albany

But where?

*sigh* Uhhh….Catskill.

Oh ok. yeah yeah…pfff…yeah of course, I know Catskill. The Catskills! The Catskill Mountains!

Yeah. Well. It’s the town of Catskill but yeah same thing I g….

Yeah, yeah…me and my family go used to go up there all the time! Bear Mountain and (blahblahblahblah – I was half listening to him at this point)…so I know that area really well.

Oh ok.

So what do you do?

I work in TV

Doing what?

I’m an Associate Producer and Editor.

Oh yeah? For what channel?

(I told him the network I work for)

Oh ok. Where is that located?

umm…in the soho area.

oh..yeah I had some clients that worked for that company. They were over near Hudson. They just opened a IHOP over there.

Yeah, that’s around my job.

Oh. well that’s the West Village. That’s not SoHo.

Ok.

Yeah, I was gonna say, I know where (TV network) is. But when you said SoHo you through me off. Yeah, that’s the West Village.

Ok.

Yeah, ’cause I worked at a couple of gyms around there. A bunch of gyms I’ve worked at are near TV networks. I worked up at Reebok near Columbus and (blahblahblahblahblah I tuned him out)…so how long have you been in TV?

For a while.

Oh ok. Where were you before?

ABC.

Ooh. haaha. right up near Columbus right? Near the Reebok gym?

Yep. One of my coworkers had a membership there.

Pfff…one of your coworkers? you mean ALL of your coworkers? Yeah. I know ’cause they gave the ABC employees a discounted rate. You didn’t go?

I had a week pass from a coworker, but …

Right yeah, they give those out all the time, and then they give you a discount after if you want to sign up.

Ok.

So where did you go to school?

Pace University.

Oh ok. Yeah I know Pace. Near the Brooklyn Bridge right?

Well, I went to the Westchester Campus, but yeah the NY one is….

Oooh ok ok ok. Yeah I know Westchester. I have family up there…you know, in Yonkers, New Rochelle, Ossining. All those places.

Riiight…

Where was that campus again?

Briarcli..

Riiiigh riiiight…Briarcliff. I know Briarcliff.

Yep…that’s right. Pretty much the same EXACT conversation. I shit you not. He even cut me off in the same places.

Did you like college?

Sure.

Yeah. I’m a Tar Heels guy myself. I had fun in college. A lot of my friends said they didn’t want to leave because once you left it was into the real world – starting your career and families…

Right.

Bless the old man who needed the machine I was blocking. I could have kissed him when he interrupted our conversation. I tried to make some small talk with the old guy, but he wasn’t really trying to chit-chat, and unlike some people (NETO) I pick up on body language and other non verbal signs.

Neto went on about this and that until my clothes finally finished drying. Actually, they weren’t completely dry, but I had to get the hell out of there. The damp stuff would have to hang over my radiators.

The old man and his clothing cart were blocking Neto in, so I tried to shove my clothes in my bag as fast as I could and head out while he was still barricaded in the corner. As soon as I stood up to walk away, I heard Neto behind me:

So we should keep in touch.

I ignored him. My back was facing him, so it was totally believable that I just didn’t hear him. I practically ran out of there, and he was right on my tail.

Can I help you with your bags?

No, I got it.

Oh, well let me get the door for you.

I got it.

Now we’re outside and I know I’m in trouble.

So, we should keep in touch.

Oh…sorry, I have a boyfriend.

No you don’t. No you don’t. You don’t have a boyfriend.

I had flashbacks to the last conversation and I just couldn’t do it again. Not only could I not endure his ego masturbation, or his desperate attempts to impress a woman he doesn’t even know with (what I’m sure was) a load of bullshit. It was too sad. And I couldn’t let him do it to himself. Or me.

Mainly me.

So I laughed and said:

Ooookay buddy, whatever you say. You have a good one.

I’m a celebrity trainer! It’s all good!

I heard the swish swish swish of his bright purple wind breakers coming up behind me (yeah…so much for a Nike sponsorship. He looked like he borrowed Barney’s sauna suit) and eventually walking past me.

That’s ok. I work with Celebrities! Ha-HA! It’s all good! You have a good day!

Psycho.

I dropped my clothes off and ran to the grocery store. Better to get all my errands done at once so I could relax once I got in the house and settled. As I’m picking out some healthy snacks in the produce isle, guess who walks in? Neto. Coincidentally he comes in less than 2 minutes after me. And coincidentally he walks past me in the produce isle, on his cell phone in the middle of – what he would like me to believe was – a conversation regarding a celebrity client.

All I heard was:

Blahblahblahblah Sean John. Blahblahblah photo shoot. Blahblahblah Sean John.

I wanted to laugh. But I felt kind of bad for him. Clearly this guy is Cray Cray.

The Chronicles of the Romantically Challenged

For the longest time, my friends have been telling me that I should write a book about my past dates and relationships.  And, looking back on the past 10 years, they’re probably right. Between dating a holy roller in love with Jesus, to basically being told I was fat- I’ve had more ‘you can’t make this shit up’ moments then you’d believe.

Add in my recent venture in online dating, and the stories get even better. I’ve been proposed to, cursed out, and written into a harlequin novel-esque fantasy, all within the first few online exchanges.

So, consider this blog my rough draft. My hilariously unbelievable, and sometimes disturbing, dating stories – past, present, and (hopefully) future.

…welcome to The Chronicles of the Romantically Challenged