Thursday, January 20


I don't make stuff up. That doesn't mean I don't creatively embellish (as in: he was like 6 feet tall and wore a red dress (maybe he was 5'10" and it was a red kimono), but any license I take is to paint a more visual or lucid picture. Still, I never just make anything up, and I never say something just to make myself look better-at the expense of making someone else look worse; which is why this really annoys me.

I work with this guy. It's just me and him in the kitchen, which is a recipe for getting on each others nerves. He is contrary. Just one of those people who loves to say the opposite-just to say the opposite. I know that type of person well-I am/was/attempt not to be-one of those people. It was when I first started this job (and worked with another guy whose nerves we got each other on (? WT . . . ). He was also contrary and working with him made me realize how annoying it was-and I vowed to try and reign myself in.

One morning this first guy came to work and told me this story: he was at a soccer game for his kids, hanging out and talking with all the other moms, and finally one of them turned to him and said:

"You like to be contrary don't you? It's annoying."

After he told me this, he just said to me-"it's know it's true, and I really don't like the way it sounded hearing someone say it" (or something like that ... my audiographic memory is weak on the exact verbiage). We were the same age.

Fast forward about 18 months, and several kitchen co-workers later (we have gone through about 35 employees throughout the store in the 20 months I've been there-but that's another story-many stories-woo hoo!) and here I am with this guy. This guy who, up until recently, I would have described to most people as a nice guy, but who increasingly gets on every last nerve I have.

So today I am saying something about these guys I dated in the past -(I try really hard not to speak about my personal life with him anymore, so I give him less opportunity to piss me off)- but sometimes I slip. So I say something about these guys I've been with in the last 2 years since I've moved to Maine as all being messed up, and he laughs; snickers really.

"What's so funny?" I say.
"You call everyone that-you think everyone's like that", he says.
"Well, that's because the guys I've dated since moving to Maine have been" I say.

I am already annoyed because:

One, I was stupid enough to set myself up, and two, because he has either:

a. not been listening to the things I've told him.
b. thinks I make all this stuff up.
c. disregards what I say because of the genitals I have between my legs.
d. is really just a jerk deep down and I gotta stop saying he's a nice guy.

You see the thing is, this is some of what I've told him . . .

Guy no. 1 was a compulsive liar. Shortly after we got involved with one another he had my name tatooed on his arm. He called me from the chair to say he was having it done. I really didn't think it was a good idea but hey, it's his arm. He later told my brother that I "was there with him when he got it done. Sitting in the chair, right next to him" (um . . . he did realize that me and my brother know each other right?). He later told the other woman he was seeing that, "he was drunk when he got it and was going to have it removed" (another story about how I find out these things).

Guy no. 2 was the Iphone dude, who as you may remember, I would find out was secretly bisexual and told me that the reason he had been unable to commit to me was that he thought when he had found the "right woman" his "disgusting" desire for men would go away and he would know he had found "the one". Since his tasty desires hadn't gone away, well ... He also didn't invite me to a Christmas Eve party because, there was a woman who would be there with whom he had a: "plantonic but very flirtatious relationship with", and he thought it would make me uncomfortable (how thoughtful of him).

Guy no. 3 was a guy who refused to ever give his dog water; and got angry when I did. He drank (the guy, not the dog) anywhere from 18-24 beers a day and gave me a lecture once on what defined "water" for his dog. I was not to let his dog drink from the toilet, from a five gallon bucket, from a lake, or from a puddle. Also, when I asked him those question we ask eachother: have either of us been married, had kids, etc. His answer was no. Turns out he was married and separated, had a 4 year old he never saw from a previous relationship, and, oh yeah, and the girl he was seeing before me . . . was five months pregnant.

Guy no. 4. is/was a guy (I am still withdrawing from this relationship) who also drank heavily. 12-18 beers a day and at 43 still does acid, ecstasy and nitrous oxide on a relatively regular (in relation to what most people might think of as normal or regular) basis. It's hard to describe the fear and timidity he instilled in me. I was not physically afraid, but emotionally afraid. He is generally a very gentle person, but would become very defensive and agitated at the strangest things. Life with him was a competition between the two of us and I just don't need to be a winner, or be with someone who needs to be. He once offered to be the designated driver when we went to see a show. I was tired, but he really wanted me to go and so made the offer. I was touched and grateful. After he downed a couple beers when we got there (okay fine, as long as he doesn't drink more) we were on the floor. I reached out to touch his face-he was drenched in sweat. I knew what that meant.

"You're on X", I said.
"I only took one." (he's saying this in his: baybeee it's not a big deal, come on sweetie-pie way he has).
"But you agreed to drive", I said.
"I'm fiiiiine", he crooned to me. "I just had one".

I wish that these details were "it"-you know? That other than all this craziness, all these relationships were awesome! But they are just little tiny details of really big fuckedupedness (I love it when I make up words). Which brings me back to the guy-this 23 year old guy that still has soooooooooooooo much to learn about life and relationships and people.

A, B, C or D?

I think all of the above.


Anonymous said...

Great little story, but it clearly indicates that your man selection software is in serious need of an upgrade unless you need the fucked-up-ones as fodder for your literary musings. How do you find them?

XO, Daddy Daddy

Deb said...

Lol . . . I know, believe me know. I'm working on it! Thanks for reading Mr. Anonymous.

jim said...

hi deb,
funny post, or should i say frightening post. i love these kind of stories because it supports my belief that we are all fucked up in some way that to others seems really weird (except the guy not letting his dog drink is a new one to me). i have my own but the litany of dating gone bad reminds me of a young woman programmer that worked for me/us in another life. her weird thing was that she was a programmer and approached life problems and, in this case, problems of the heart, in the manner she approached a coding problem. anyway, at age 29, she came into my office and announced that she needed to get married and had signed up on she told me that her system would be to go on a date with the first 3 guys that contacted her and the best of the 3 she would date and eventually marry. the funny thing was that all 3 were dolts in one way or another (c'mon, you must believe that right?). the first one, at dinner in a restaurant announced that he was a vampire. she chuckled but only then found out he was serious and a bit indignant to boot. he told her that he drank blood etc., she got up and left the table. to make a long comment short, the 3rd guy was simply rude and nasty but less obviously strange and she dated and married him. after their divorce and many stories of his bizarre behavior, she admitted that she had arrived home from work on more than one occasion to find him on the living room couch, tears streaming down his face, with a shotgun barrel in his mouth. not long after the divorce she got back together with her high school sweetheart, got preggers, had the baby and ditched the old flame. not sure why i felt compelled to share but there it is. good luck with the boys.

Gary's third pottery blog said...

holy crap! that is about all I can say right now...