When last we met I had struck up a fantastic evening with a girl that thought she was in love with a dude that wasn't your humble narrator. I stand by my original statement of "it didn't work out' however, things changed along the way and I am totally responsible for the magnificent catastrophe that followed. It totally coulda worked out. I'm just an idiot.
At the time of the original article, Liz was in love with a bad dude. Bad because he referred to her in ways unbefitting a lady, and bad because he intended to go home and sleep with the girl I had plans for. They are one in the same. She said, "he treats me like this whenever I'm around these people." I said, "let's go somewhere else then." She laughed, but... we went somewhere else. A culdasac, in fact.
I heard every reason this girl wanted to break up with her boyfriend. Every possible reason. And I tried my best to take advantage. I guess I did, but I couldn't claim skill was involved. I wish I could tell you I was some wolf out for meat but I can't. I really did like this girl. She was perfect in that way that only makes sense to the loser that feels it. A dude can say "I like blonds. I like brunettes. I like large mammaries." But then you look at his track record and think, "this guy hasn't dated his described profile." Is he full of it? Not really. I am learning that the type of women guys say they go for is rarely the type of women they actually go for... or should go for... Liz was conventionally beautiful for sure. Your man or mate would agree. But I say I like pale redheads, and she was definitely dark and sultry. And she was definitely looking for a reason to cheat on the guy that just called her a slut. So, advantage taken.
I really liked this girl. It kinda stings just saying it. Because I know what you don't. I know that they are no longer together and she was calling me after, and it was mine to lose. But like I said earlier... I'm an idiot.
The culdasac was how you imagine. Blah blah blah you are better than that. Blah blah blah you are beautiful. Blah blah blah is that Wintergreen? She was teary eyed at one point and I felt really guilty. Not THAT guilty, but guilty. I wasn't actively taking advantage but I was definitely taking advantage you know? Let me say this. A small convertible can earn you a lot of scorn or praises depending on the commenter, but it was a convertible and it was affordable so I bought it ok? That evening I wish I had bought an Element or something with some "utility space." We made it work, but not without some marks and bruises. Regardless, at the end of the night, we were back in the house and she was sleeping next to her passed out belligerent. I had learned that she could spell out "snuffaluffaguss" with her tongue and can scream "there" in two different languages, but what did that really mean? I did get her number and it was apparent that she wasn't exactly happy to be sleeping with Captain Asshole. There's a plus. But our futons were beside each other for Christ sake! She's looking at me, he's snoring, and I'm wanting round two. She is too. Oh well. Next time don't go to a barbecue an hour away from your house.
The morning was awkward city. Breakfast with everyone I didn't know, nor cared about. Weird exchanges across the table. Real teen-drama nonsense. Everyone went their own way and I thought "to hell with it." But around 5pm I got a call and I couldn't believe it. Guys are suppose to call the girl right? And is it after 3 days or 2 days or 32 days? I don't remember Swingers that well. But regardless we are supposed to call the girl, and THIS girl, WITH a boyfriend, is calling me after one night? They had the big fight that morning, all the things I had said to her she had repeated to him (the stuff about how she is better than that etc.). But unlike the typical stereotype, she had actually decided to leave him! When does that happen?
What followed was a week of rushed lunch hours and seeing movies for the second time. She was just as fantastic as I imaged. But then she started talking about him and I was far from "sensitive." She was locked up for sure. I was the escape and not the new deal. I guess I saw it for what it was without even knowing it. She needed someone to tell her she was beautiful, but she wanted someone to break her down. My response was typical of someone who knows they are being taken advantage of and "ain't having none of that."
I really liked this girl, and could have made it work. But I said the things that had the other guy losing his ground. It was mine to lose and I lost it magnificently. I'm a little mad at myself, a little ashamed. I should have been better. I should have worked the angles that were so graciously thrust into my lap. I should have actively taken advantage. Because that is what I'm learning wins the game. Be the asshole now and the good-guy later. I was the asshole in the wrong way. Jealous and impatient. Wrong asshole. But for one week it was fantastic. Even if it didn't work out.
