An Open Letter To the Boy I Went Out With Last Night Whom I Let Buy Me Dinner Even Though I Have Never Previously Allowed That To Happen

"So, first off, thanks for dinner, and furthermore I'm glad you liked Farmer Brown because it's one of my favorite restaurants. That being said, I was dead serious when I said that I absolutely and without fear of consequence HATE YOUR JEANS. They're terrible, and it oft feels as if you wouldn't know a pair of premium denim if they bit you on your fine as hell rear-end. Oh, yeah. If I haven't mentioned it before, you have the nicest ass I've ever seen in real life on a white boy.

"Asses aside, this denim thing is s serious problem. 'But they're just jeans,' I can hear you thinking, 'why is it such a big deal?' It's a big deal because it's indicative of a whole host of deal breakers that I am now quite sure that we are headed to meet.

"The thing is that I tend to put men in a box, and if you can't meet the requirements, I get disinterested quickly. You absolutely have to make me laugh, and be smart. You generally won't even make it into my bed withought these two things. Then? Well, then after phone numbers are exchanged, and we begin to meet again and again, there are a whole host of other attributes that I will seek in you and most likely drop you if I do not find them. Basically, you must have all of my favorite qualities of the rest of my friends in order for me to find you redeeming.

"Again, I know what you're thinking; that no one person can do all of these things--can be stupid with me like my girfriends, can give the best hugs like my old time guy friends, that has dreams as big as I do myself; but you have to understand that essentially, I don't really care what you think. Why? Because I'm sure that regardless of whatever you may attest to you are most likely right this second putting me in a similar box of comparing me to your ex girfriends and wondering where this can lead if it turns out we're intrinsically dissimilar. It's okay, I understand, but I'm going to need you to understand this: I won't relent or settle until I find what I'm looking for.

"I'm not saying you're definitely not it, I'm just saying that you most likely aren't. Go ahead. Scream it; be like 'what the fucking hell! No guy can party as hard as Mary and be as stable as Erica and watch stupid movies with you on a weekly basis ike Shaun all the while wearing nice jeans!' Fine, maybe you're right.

"Sorry, I couldn't keep that whole 'maybe you're right' thing going for even a couple more sentances because I love to be the one to say 'I told you so'. The unfortunate scenario that has come to pass is that you're actually wrong: I know a guy just like that--but he too has a whole host of rigors that I have put him through and held him against (no pun intended) and although he didn't pass per se, well, let's just say that his colors still flew a little farther than your own.

"Irregardless of other boys and other times and other pairs of exquisite denim, I would like to take this opportunity to say my second favorite phrase right behind 'I told you so', and it's: so how does it feel? I refer of course to the feeling you must have right now that I had yesterday morning: you now like me more than I like you. Why have the tables turned? Because headcase bullshit aside I am awesome. You're just kind of a headcase.

"Listen, you'll be fine, I promise. Within a few days time, I'll most likely do or say something so stupid and jarring to you that you are left feeling as if you have the upper hand, that you can distance yourself from me without guilt or recourse and later go back to your boys and explain how crazy I was all the while proudly touting that at least you got laid. Don't worry, I'm cool with it. I'll fuck you a few more times, purposefully fuck it all up, and then quietly retire to the boy with the nice jeans.

"It might make you feel better to know that I'm actually not fucking him anymore anyway. Why? Well, because he has been privy to his own set of my rationalizations in which his deal-breaking faults are mostly centered around how much I actually like him, and how I can never seem to get past the idea that sex can do nothing but cheapen a beautiful friendship. I oft wonder if I'll ever have both; but don't worry about that, it's not your problem, nor your fault.

"Take care, okay? And if you're ever wondering what could have been, just remember that if history and routine are any indication, then you can take comfort in the fact that I never liked you enough not to fuck you."

Best Regards,


Dr. Joey said...

Holy shit I loved this one. You are not alone in your crazy but sane thoughts. My latest crush literally was telling me a week ago that somehow I should feel good about the fact that were weren't hooking up. I think I felt I understood her, I mean I couldn't put a finger on why I wasn't trying to get in her pants (oddly enough) but after reading your blog, I get it. I think I do. Gracias, senorita bloggista.

huntsmanic said...

you're hilarious. i'm calling you momentarily.