My "Why are you still talking? Can I go home now?" face:
Luckily, that was only at the end of the night, around 4:30 AM... at a taco shop.
For the majority of the night, I was doing my typical hyena thing... where I laugh at nearly everything.
A strange thing happened that night.
Aside form my teenage-angst shitty moment, there was an unbelievably awkward moment where I pretty much went deaf from the embarrassment.
Hottie sweet young ex-Mormon guy was busy... I don't know what he was doing, I think he was getting me a drink... so I was only surrounded by my female friends/family.
I was feeling good, so I was happy and kind to everyone, even the jackasses smoking nearby.
I had noticed two particular friends of my sister's looking over in my direction, but I honestly believed they would look over when I'd laugh too loud... kind of the way you look at a crazy idiot.
"Can someone please gag this bitch?" sort of thing.
They were the tallest, ummm... darkest... dudes in the area... not that I have a problem with that. I'm just saying, for imagery's sake.
I had been my typical self with these guys, since I knew they were some of the few cool friends my sister has. I'd laugh at their jokes, because they were funny, but at NO TIME, did I bring up anything that had to do with attraction... romance... hooking up... relationships... any of that.
One guy, the tallest one, was asking me many questions. I didn't want to be an annoying mean bitch, so I'd answer them, humorously.
I guess this is probably where the guy thought I was like... sending "mixed signals."
He asked me what I did... about five times. Each time I'd say something new.
Him: So, what do you do?
Me: Nothing.
Him: ... ?
Me: I am an "artist." I paint, I draw, I write, I take photographs.
Him: Is that all?
Me: Well... I travel as much as I can. I like to see the world and write about it. Draw it.
Him: Anything else?
At that point, I was wondering if this guy thought I was the worst fucking lush in the world.
Him: Do you dance?
Me: Only at Zumba.
He looked surprised.
Me: I'M KIDDING. I'M KIDDING. I do more aggressive shit at the gym. I'm not a dancer... well... I know how to dance, I'm relatively good at it... but I don't really like it... especially dancing to this music (they were playing Miley Cyrus).
Him: Well, what DOES get you to dance?
Me: I have a Peter Pan complex... so... I'm going through a really hard EDM phase.
He did not know what I was talking about... or maybe it was a ruse to get me to bust out my phone... who knows, I'm dumb and gullible.
So he asks me to name a song.
Of course I can't name a song off the top of my head.
Me: That one that says "muthafucking animals" thought the whole thing... you know what I'm talking about? Martin... Gar-something.
So there we are, laughing at how dumb I am... and I bust out my phone, and prove my point.
This is where the laughter stops and awkward begins.
He starts talking.
Him: Well... I think you're great. You're hilarious. You're beautiful and smart. Your smile lights up the room from a mile away. I really want to, you know, get to know you better. So, I was wondering if it was ok if I took you out to lunch sometime.
I FROZE.
No, seriously... I FROZE. Catatonic.
As I watched him say each word, my mind was going a mile a minute.
What the fuck? NO no no! Please stop... NO no NO! Oh No! FUCK! Don't put me in this position... FUCK! AHHHH! FUCK! My smile? UGHHHH! Don't smile, he won't know you smile when you're nervous, he'll think you dig what he's saying... FUCK! Please don't keep going! WHYYYY?! WE WERE COOL BEFORE YOU OPENED YOUR MOUTH! WHO ASKS PEOPLE OUT WITHIN A COUPLE OF HOURS OF MEETING THEM? WHO STILL ASKS PEOPLE OUT?! WHEN DID WE MENTION RELATIONSHIPS? HOW DO YOU KNOW I''M SINGLE?! FUUUUUUUCK!
And I just stood there, looking up at him, glazed-over eyes, smile on my face.
And I shake my head.
I felt like shit... but my head did not give a shit about being nice to anyone... it was shaking out of simple reflexes.
Me: Oh... you're so nice... thaaaaaank youuuu... but... I... caaaan't.... beeeecauseeee.... I caaaaaaan't...
Him: I should have known! Who is he?
Me: He is uhhhh... he livesss innnn...
Him: You're taken, huh? I should have known. A beautiful girl like you in a bar, single... it's either because your boyfriend's at home or you have something seriously wrong with you.
And he does that motion, where you move your index finger in a circle alongside your temple, to denote someone as crazy.
Me: Yeahhhh... sorrrryyyyy... but thank youuuu...
Him: Can I... is it ok if I curse him?
Me: Oh you go right on ahead and curse your heart out! Here, I'll help you! "YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!"
And there we were, two people cursing an imaginary person.
Guys, I tripped the fuck out. I looked like a cat who gets surprised by a loud, sudden noise.
The dude was hella cool, and as a friend I'd be happy to chill with him... but the way he laid it on so thick... there was just... no way. No way. Zero physical attraction. He didn't know my type of music. It just... nah, man. Nah. But it felt horrible having to say no to such a nice guy. But I had to... to keep it real.
I was still feeling like I had just been static-shocked by a massive metal block when the ex-mormon boy came by and made me forget... with more laughter.
That night I learned I'm still not a fan of compliments. They fuck me up.
Come on... let's be serious... I was not that big of a deal. I'm a forgettable face... well, besides the enormous grill of mine, but you get the picture.
I know what I look like.. I know my mug is nothing out of the ordinary.
Flattery from others just gets me rattled and upset.
If you dig me (for whatever freak reason you find me tolerable), speak to me for a couple of hours... crack me up throughout the conversations (don't avoid me all night and only approach me as the night is ending). Make me laugh hysterically with your humor, and my attention is all yours, buddy.
Not a difficult concept (difficult to keep me company for a few hours. I understand it's pretty fucking demanding of me... but I'm a shy, painfully timid girl... it takes some time for me to warm up and be myself with a stranger. Some people have the patience, others do not, and that's fine. Just DON'T ask me on a date after having only spoken a few lines with me. That's... I don't handle that well. Never thought I'd have to make that disclaimer...)
 |
| I bring a serious gun game... Ugh. I'm such a dude. |
For the majority of the night, I was doing my typical hyena thing... where I laugh at nearly everything.
A strange thing happened that night.
Aside form my teenage-angst shitty moment, there was an unbelievably awkward moment where I pretty much went deaf from the embarrassment.
Hottie sweet young ex-Mormon guy was busy... I don't know what he was doing, I think he was getting me a drink... so I was only surrounded by my female friends/family.
I was feeling good, so I was happy and kind to everyone, even the jackasses smoking nearby.
I had noticed two particular friends of my sister's looking over in my direction, but I honestly believed they would look over when I'd laugh too loud... kind of the way you look at a crazy idiot.
"Can someone please gag this bitch?" sort of thing.
They were the tallest, ummm... darkest... dudes in the area... not that I have a problem with that. I'm just saying, for imagery's sake.
I had been my typical self with these guys, since I knew they were some of the few cool friends my sister has. I'd laugh at their jokes, because they were funny, but at NO TIME, did I bring up anything that had to do with attraction... romance... hooking up... relationships... any of that.
One guy, the tallest one, was asking me many questions. I didn't want to be an annoying mean bitch, so I'd answer them, humorously.
I guess this is probably where the guy thought I was like... sending "mixed signals."
He asked me what I did... about five times. Each time I'd say something new.
Him: So, what do you do?
Me: Nothing.
Him: ... ?
Me: I am an "artist." I paint, I draw, I write, I take photographs.
Him: Is that all?
Me: Well... I travel as much as I can. I like to see the world and write about it. Draw it.
Him: Anything else?
At that point, I was wondering if this guy thought I was the worst fucking lush in the world.
Him: Do you dance?
Me: Only at Zumba.
He looked surprised.
Me: I'M KIDDING. I'M KIDDING. I do more aggressive shit at the gym. I'm not a dancer... well... I know how to dance, I'm relatively good at it... but I don't really like it... especially dancing to this music (they were playing Miley Cyrus).
Him: Well, what DOES get you to dance?
Me: I have a Peter Pan complex... so... I'm going through a really hard EDM phase.
He did not know what I was talking about... or maybe it was a ruse to get me to bust out my phone... who knows, I'm dumb and gullible.
So he asks me to name a song.
Of course I can't name a song off the top of my head.
Me: That one that says "muthafucking animals" thought the whole thing... you know what I'm talking about? Martin... Gar-something.
So there we are, laughing at how dumb I am... and I bust out my phone, and prove my point.
This is where the laughter stops and awkward begins.
He starts talking.
Him: Well... I think you're great. You're hilarious. You're beautiful and smart. Your smile lights up the room from a mile away. I really want to, you know, get to know you better. So, I was wondering if it was ok if I took you out to lunch sometime.
I FROZE.
No, seriously... I FROZE. Catatonic.
As I watched him say each word, my mind was going a mile a minute.
What the fuck? NO no no! Please stop... NO no NO! Oh No! FUCK! Don't put me in this position... FUCK! AHHHH! FUCK! My smile? UGHHHH! Don't smile, he won't know you smile when you're nervous, he'll think you dig what he's saying... FUCK! Please don't keep going! WHYYYY?! WE WERE COOL BEFORE YOU OPENED YOUR MOUTH! WHO ASKS PEOPLE OUT WITHIN A COUPLE OF HOURS OF MEETING THEM? WHO STILL ASKS PEOPLE OUT?! WHEN DID WE MENTION RELATIONSHIPS? HOW DO YOU KNOW I''M SINGLE?! FUUUUUUUCK!
And I just stood there, looking up at him, glazed-over eyes, smile on my face.
And I shake my head.
I felt like shit... but my head did not give a shit about being nice to anyone... it was shaking out of simple reflexes.
Me: Oh... you're so nice... thaaaaaank youuuu... but... I... caaaan't.... beeeecauseeee.... I caaaaaaan't...
Him: I should have known! Who is he?
Me: He is uhhhh... he livesss innnn...
Him: You're taken, huh? I should have known. A beautiful girl like you in a bar, single... it's either because your boyfriend's at home or you have something seriously wrong with you.
And he does that motion, where you move your index finger in a circle alongside your temple, to denote someone as crazy.
Me: Yeahhhh... sorrrryyyyy... but thank youuuu...
Him: Can I... is it ok if I curse him?
Me: Oh you go right on ahead and curse your heart out! Here, I'll help you! "YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!"
And there we were, two people cursing an imaginary person.
Guys, I tripped the fuck out. I looked like a cat who gets surprised by a loud, sudden noise.
The dude was hella cool, and as a friend I'd be happy to chill with him... but the way he laid it on so thick... there was just... no way. No way. Zero physical attraction. He didn't know my type of music. It just... nah, man. Nah. But it felt horrible having to say no to such a nice guy. But I had to... to keep it real.
I was still feeling like I had just been static-shocked by a massive metal block when the ex-mormon boy came by and made me forget... with more laughter.
 |
| Guess who I'm looking at... Kinda scary to think this is the deranged look they're getting when I'm greatly amused. No, really, just look at my nose and eyes. I'm getting slayed. |
Come on... let's be serious... I was not that big of a deal. I'm a forgettable face... well, besides the enormous grill of mine, but you get the picture.
I know what I look like.. I know my mug is nothing out of the ordinary.
Flattery from others just gets me rattled and upset.
If you dig me (for whatever freak reason you find me tolerable), speak to me for a couple of hours... crack me up throughout the conversations (don't avoid me all night and only approach me as the night is ending). Make me laugh hysterically with your humor, and my attention is all yours, buddy.
Not a difficult concept (difficult to keep me company for a few hours. I understand it's pretty fucking demanding of me... but I'm a shy, painfully timid girl... it takes some time for me to warm up and be myself with a stranger. Some people have the patience, others do not, and that's fine. Just DON'T ask me on a date after having only spoken a few lines with me. That's... I don't handle that well. Never thought I'd have to make that disclaimer...)
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