Quadfecta of Electronic Dumping

I was actually never going to post this post. I was going to let it sit here in my unfinished posts, because it was never supposed to be relevant again, but this past week I ran into the guy it's about, and his continued chicken behavior still irks me.

So ends the story of NotBen.

Now I've been dumped a lot of ways.

The slow fade.

The cold turkey.

The text message. (You're still a dick, sir)

The instant message. (gotta love technology)

The phone call.

The in-person.

The skype.

The I'm too busy to call you on Thanksgiving because I'm with my family, and you're too needy (I'm sorry, quat?) This was prequealed by the 'I refuse to listen to you cry because your Aunt died. You can read all about this here. (Sometimes I should just read the signs).

The raging belligerent dumping at 3 a.m. in my dorm hallway because I didn't want to watch "Dawn of the Dead" for the 133rd time (I really can't make this shit up).

The belligerent naked man cornering me in his room, wondering why I just wont do him... (for starters you're naked - I'm not - and you're not Barney Stinson).

AND NOW!!!!!! <--- Now means like 6 months ago when this actually happened.

The let me tell you through text that I'm going to break up with you via an email...

Oh yes.

Ladies and Gentlemen it gets worse than a belligerent former marine beating down your dorm door at 3 a.m.

It gets mental.

Some of the men in my life are so unhinged and mentally similar to a five year old, that they cannot actually just come out and say - "I want to not date you anymore." 

I realize that I should have figured out that it wasn't going to work since he was a graduate of my alma mater, which is notorious for producing men of "superb stock," who think they're the king of the world when in fact they're actually only getting tail because the ratio is skewed, (70% female to 30% male, and I'm not making that up). I'm just saying women enjoy sexytime as much as menfolk do.

So women's standards are lowered in order to get some themselves. In fact at my alma mater I can think of maybe 10 guys... in the history of my knowledge of people at AU who aren't complete d-bags when in a 'relationship' with women.

(I probably just pissed a lot of guys from my alma mater off, but let's be real the majority of them treated the girls like crap because they knew they could get away with it - I'm not saying all of them did, I'm just saying a lot of them).

But I digressed. ANYWAY.

I should have known it was going to end quicker than a Roman Candle in the hands of a 12 year old boy, but I had such-HIGH-hopes. He seemed genuine.

In fact he had many plusses going for him.

He was a friend of a friend, +1 <--- BUILT IN RECOMMENDATION!!!
He was intelligent, +1
He was outgoing, +1
He was sporty, +1
He was following his passions, +1
He was funny, +1
He had a bad boy streak a mile wide, +1
He enjoyed quality fro yo, +1
He was cute! +1

So me wearing my naive girl panties, completely tossed all care into the wind and said, "Feet, start jumping."

After both of my feet landed, I hit the ground running. We had a great first date thing, followed by watching a Saint's game together one evening, followed by...

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing

"Hey, um, I realize you're out of town right now, but when you get back I need my parking pass because I have a friend coming to visit."

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing

"Hey, I know you're probs crazy busy, just coming back into town, but I really need that parking pass..."

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing

"Heya, if you're just really not interested in seeing me anymore that's cool, but I need that pass - could you give it to our friend A, and I'll grab it from him."

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing...

Days pass, until finally...

TIME: 12:35 A.M, while I'm fast asleep, "I left it on your windshield."

TIME: 9:30 A.M, when I wake up, "WHAT?!!? YOU LEFT MY PARKING PASS ON MY WINDSHIELD!?!?! OUT IN THE OPEN?!!? IN A KNOWN CRIME AREA?!!??!" (ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON?) 

TIME: 9:31 A.M, when I reach my car out of breath and see NOTHING on my windshield, "It's not there you fucking asshole!"
"I'll pay you for it."
"That's not the fucking point. How much do you seriously not want to see me that you couldn't even hand me my parking pass? Am I seriously that horrible of a person?"
"Look, I'm going to send you an email to explain why I can't date you, what's your email address?"

Now my first thought is (1) does this guy have an STD? (2) Who emails a break-up letter, just call me up and say, "it's not working." I'm a relatively level-headed individual, I get that sometimes it doesn't work out, and (3) How dumb do you have to be to leave a parking pass... OUT IN THE OPEN, on a windshield, in a KNOWN crime area.

So after I got his text about the email, I sent him my email address...

Nothing

Nothing

Nothing

You get the idea.

There's a lot more to the story that I'm leaving out for the sake of our mutual friends who might come across this, but in case you were wondering what else happened, I'll tell you this. When I saw the guy at the event this week, a surge of rage, usually reserved for Dicky MacDickerson swept through my body. The need to rip his face off was strong, but for the sake of my professional career, I decided to lay off the crazy pills.

He told one of our mutual friends that he couldn't believe I was there, that he needed to apologize for being a class A dickwad.

He never made it across the room to apologize. In fact, when it was down to just me, our good friend A, and a few of my friends left in the room, he didn't even stop to say bye to HIS FRIEND - A. Nope, instead, he ran out of that room like someone had set fire to his non-existent balls.

So here's my question to you, the readers. If someone KNOWS they're being a dick/ass/bitch, and will later feel remorse and the need to apologize, why do they act that way in the first place? Isn't it just better to be a good human being, all the time?


So anyway, I can hear y'all wondering, "what is the POINT of this post?"

I was riding in the car Tuesday with my friend Harm, talking about our dating lives when he said something really poignant.

"Why can't people just treat other people like human beings?" <--- POINT.

He also said that today computer screens have completely dehumanized interactions. We act as though there's not another person sitting on the other end of that connection, but there is.

And he's so fucking right. SO RIGHT. Between all these new methods of dating via the computer and your cell phone with things like circle.s or whatever that site is called, people are becoming less people-y and more detached from human form in our minds, if that makes any sense.

I admit it. Sometimes I just don't want to face telling someone I don't want to date them anymore, but knowing at the end of the date that it's not going anywhere, is soooooo much better than finding out after you've sent three text messages that show your cute and sassy side, to which they have not responded. So that's what I do. At the end of the date if I'm not feeling the spark or am a little creeped out by their collection of taxidermied rodents, I just say, "you know what I had a lot of fun, I really did, but I'm so sorry, I just don't think a second date would be a good idea."

BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HUMANS SHOULD DO!!!!

Yes, I am a master of the cold turkey. God, I am a master of the cold turkey, but I know how much that sucks, because I've been on the other side and have felt the chill of its wintery-poultry-smelling grasp. So unless the person is a complete psychopath, see the Marine, I tend to actually own up to not wanting to talk to them in that manner anymore.

Because the fact of the matter is, we all need to man up.

He's Gone....

While I sit at my desk, the sunlight teases the edge of my arm as I click through actor's voices at work, trying to find someone who's a perfect mix of Benjamin Netanyahu and William Shakespeare.

My phone buzzes. Nope. Not words with friends, I have a text, from MrStateDepartment. (You didn't even know this guy existed did you? - For the record... he does, but according the government he doesn't. It's bizarre aka he probably works at McDonalds)

"Wanna meet up for drinks?"
"No I have plans tonight with a homie, maybe tomorrow?"
"I leave tomorrow."
"What?"
"Yeah, I leave tomorrow, and I wanted to see you before I left."

As the floor beneath my desk peeled back, I watched my heart tumble from my chest, pitching down into the solemn depths below.

I knew it had been coming. I knew that I was going to get this text, but so soon. So quickly. He had just passed the greek language test 5 days ago.

Earlier that morning I had watched the most emotional movie I've ever worked on, listening to the sniffles of men holding back their tears and the rustling of kleenex as the women dried their eyes in the audience. But I had sat there like a stone. Enjoying criticizing the bad audio, so that in the next cut - it would be perfect. That's what you get when your mentor is an Audio guy, you're ober critical of the smallest hiccups.

But nary a tear.

As I tried to focus on my work after the texts, I actually couldn't breathe.

The man I had been using as a crutch; The man who gave me more dating advice in a 7-month time than I had experienced in my entire lifetime; The man I had been telling all my hopes and dreams to in attempts to ward off emotional vulnerability with the men I had actually been dating had less than 24 hours in the area, and I couldn't see the sun through my tears.

I rushed to the office bathroom as quickly as I could, because I have a rep to protect (I show no emotion) at my office, and I couldn't bear to let something else come crumbling around my ears.

I stood in the bathroom, leaning against the wall. Staring at the mirror, forcing myself to pull it together.

"Who ARE you right now? What are you DOING? It's not worth it. These tears aren't going to make the moon land in your hand."

From the first 'whatever' I knew he was leaving. There was no strings, no attachments. It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be fun.

And it was. Every laugh. Every joke. Every movie reference over my head. It was so good.

My longest relationship with a boyfriend was 9 months. To put this into perspective. My 'whatever it was' with this guy was 7 months long. To me. That's an eternity. I can hear his voice. I can see his eyes, his teeth, his fingers, every detail is etched in my mind at that moment. The moment in the bathroom.

I've always believed that the end of a relationship/friendship is like having someone you love die. Except you're constantly reminded about them when they sign onto skype or facebook. And when those relationships end, especially when one party moves across the country due to a work commitment it's doubly hard, because it's not like you both decided, OK this is ending.

It had to end. Knowing about it ending makes it that much harder, not easier. Slowly watching days peel back on a calendar pushing closer and closer to Departure Day doesn't make that day any easier.

And because 7 months to me is an eternity. In my messed up little world, weeks are like years. In a week or two I'll forget the crinkle of his eyes. The way he stares at a television as soon as it's turned on like a puppy watching you toss a ball. I'll forget the sounds he makes, and the way he walks.



Photo by Matt Weber

But the impression made will still be the same. Though the 'whatever it was' is severed by 3000 miles and separate dreams and goals.

Do I regret the times, the tears, the laughter?

No.

Do I want to still have what we had?

No. It's time to move on. It's time to find someone with whom I can start something - real.

Did I learn something about myself?

Yes. Apparently I have emotions other than judgement and happiness. How Crazy!

And to tell you the truth, that's my favorite part about dating. I love learning about myself through other people, through friendships and relationships and family, through different situations, through trials and triumphs. I love every imprint from every person I've ever met, because to be honest, without those imprints, I wouldn't be who I am today.

And while who I am today, isn't perfect, nor will it ever be. I like who I am today, but tomorrow, my friends, is a new discovery waiting for me to stumble upon it.