Of Mice and Men
In the spirit of my horrid, I'm being honest here, dating career, I think it's time to share what type of man I'm attracted to versus the type of men I attract. This could be part of the problem.
When I think of unwanted advances, four individuals come to mind:
The Stalker
Mouse
Uncle Ga-ga
Texas Walker Ranger
I'll explain each.
The Stalker
The funny thing about him, out of the four listed, he's the best one. That's right, the one who actually frightened me and made me think he was psychotic was the best of the bunch. That's just sad.
Before I started my freshman year of college, my best friend warned me to watch out for a guy named Chris going to the U. She had gone on one date with this guy and he started calling her obsessively and acting as if they were married. He tried to possess her even when she told him flat out she was not interested in going on other dates with him. I felt bad for her having to deal with this creep, but I also thought, "There's got to be at least 400 guys named Chris at the University of Minnesota. What are the chances I'd run into the one she's talking about?"
Obviously, this story wouldn't be important if I never met him. I should play the lottery.
One night, I was invited to go to the local sub shop for a night of Bingo (don't ask, this is a story in itself) and I decided to go with friends from the dorm. My friend, Erik, ran into one of his buddies and introduced us all. The guy, tall, lanky, red hair, and glasses, sat down with us at the table. He was not bad looking and he did have a good brain. I didn't really chat with him much because of the big group, but I wasn't afraid of him or anything. Chris sat with us for an hour before leaving.
Two days later, as I was heading back to the dorm from class, Chris stopped me. I recognized him from the night of Bingo and so we chatted for a few minutes. You know, the which direction are you headed? and What classes are you taking this semester? small talk. He asked me for my number. Since I was innocent and never believed this was the Chris my friend warned me about, I gave it to him. I saw no reason not to.
He called me 35 times in the next seven days. That's right. 35 times.
The first couple of calls weren't so bad, I just realized in talking to him I had no interest. He was intelligent, but also arrogant and he obviously didn't listen to voice tone. I was polite and I did give the first few conversations a chance.
By the fifth call, it sounded like this:
Ring (I didn't have caller ID), I pick up:
B: Hello?
C: Hi Beth! This is Chris. How are you?
B: Fine.
C: I was watching the baseball game on T.V. Do you like baseball?
B: Not really.
C: I love it. I played in high school. The score is 10-4 right now and the bases are loaded. Do you know insert some player's name I can't remember? He's great.
B: I don't know him and I don't like baseball.
C: Well, he's fantastic. You should watch the game.
B: I don't like baseball.
C: What are you doing?
B: Studying.
C: You should watch the game.
B: How dense can he be??? I DON'T like baseball.
C: Why not?
B: I don't really like sports.
C: But you should. They are great. I love sports, especially baseball.
B: And you think that's going to change my mind?
C: Well, you should watch the game. You'd like it.
B: I met you at a bar while people were playing Bingo and you know that I'm taking an astronomy class to fill my science credits. What in those facts made you think that I would just instantly become the world's biggest baseball fan???
C: What are you doing tomorrow?
B: I have to work.
C: I'll call you later. Bye!
My thoughts that this guy was intelligent started to go away. They packed up their bags, hopped on the train, and got out of Dodge.
The next call:
C: Hi Beth! What are you doing?
B: I have a friend hanging out and we're watching some anime T.V. show that I don't remember.
C: Oh. I just finished watching the baseball game. Wanna know who won?
B: No.
C: Are you busy?
B: I do have company over.
C: Okay. So why don't you like baseball?
B: I think it's boring. I have company over.
C: I think you should give it a chance.
B: Do I need to explain the fact there is someone over again?
C: I love baseball. Are there any sports you like?
B: Hockey. Again, I have company over and I don't want to be rude to them. If there is no emergency, I'd ask for this call to be over.
C: Hockey is okay. I couldn't play it though. It's too violent.
B: I wish someone would body check you right now. Are we done here?
C: I really like baseball.
B: Are you really that dense?
C: Baseball is the great American pasttime.
B: No shit. Goodbye.
C: I'll call you later.
The next day:
C: Hi Beth! How are you? What are you doing?
B: I can't believe you actually called again.
C: I was going to go work out but thought I'd call you first.
B: Why?
C: So you'd know I was working out.
B: And I need to know?
C: Where did you go to high school?
B: Fridley.
C: Oh. I knew a girl from Fridley once. We dated for a long time. It was special but I had to end it.
B: You went out with someone from Fridley?
C: Yeah.
B: Who?
C: Her name was Laura (name changed to protect the innocent).
B: What was her last name?
C: He tells me my best friend's last name.
B: You dated her for a long time?
C: Yeah. We went to Valleyfair once. It was wonderful.
B: How long did you date her?
C: Oh, we went out so many times and it lasted about two months.
B: Two months is not a long term relationship.
C: It meant a lot to us.
B: Who is us?
C: Laura and I.
B: You're a liar.
C: What makes you say that?
B: Laura is my best friend and she happens to remember one date and then you stalking her.
C: We went to Valleyfair though. And we talked on the phone all the time!
B: Did she ever call you?
C: Um, no.
B: Take that as a hint that she didn't actually want to talk to you.
C: Will you go out with me?
B: What?!? Are you on crack?
C: I really like you.
B: I'm mean to you hoping you'll get the hint that we have nothing in common other than the fact we both attend the same university. Stop calling me.
C: Do you have a boyfriend?
B: Yes. (Forgive me Father, I lied.)
C: What's he like?
B: Normal. And he doesn't force me to listen to dribble about baseball.
C: I really like baseball.
B: Goodbye.
He called me five times a day for the next week. Then he got a job cleaning the hallways in my dorm. I couldn't get away from him. I just started being meaner and avoiding him as much as possible. After a week of screening my calls, I learned that campus calls rang differently than outside calls. I started having my friends get an outside line before calling me. He finally got the hint.
Mouse
I knew this guy who actually picked a nickname so he'd be similar to a rodent. This was voluntary. Mouse was a friend of mine. I actually had some good conversations with him, but there was no romantic feelings involved. Maybe I was wrong in thinking men and women can be friends without having to make out.
The advances from Mouse were unnoteworthy until the day a friend of mine told him she wasn't interested. Then I was his full attention.
There were no single conversations that bothered me about Mouse. It was an overall experience. Maybe I'm too picky, but here's the things that bothered me:
Unemployed and not looking for a job.
Living with his "Ma."
Smelled of marijuana ALL THE TIME.
Liked to talk about guns but not for sport.
Told me a story about a time he got mad at his cat and literally beat the crap out of it.
Had a son from a previous relationship that he wasn't allowed near.
Liked having the nickname of a rodent.
Was over 10 years older than me and I hadn't dated anyone more than 3 years from my age before.
The one thing we could talk about was Stephen King novels. That was it.
Any wonder that I didn't jump at the opportunity presented? I think the story about him beating up his cat (which he brought up as a positive aspect of his personality) scared me the most.
Uncle Ga-ga
Imagine a woman nine months pregnant with triplets. Imagine her wearing a horizontal striped t-shirt (ALL THE TIME). Imagine her using her car keys to clean out her ears. Now picture her as a man. That was Uncle Ga-ga.
Uncle Ga-ga was not a bad guy. I wasn't interested in him for a few reasons. He also lived with his mom (this is not a bad thing, it's just that when you're over 35, it's not cool). He worked occasionally but had trouble holding down jobs. The belly was probably due to the amount of beer he consumed (and beef jerky, he ate a lot of beef jerky). He was a touchy-feely person too.
The nickname came from his nephew who couldn't pronounce his name. Cute right? Until he started having everyone call him Uncle Ga-ga. Then it took on a creepy, pedophile quality. I don't want to be intimate with anyone crying out, "Oh, Uncle Ga-ga, give it to me!" Sorry for that image.
He started calling me all the time. I just got weird vibes from him and started screening my calls. I haven't heard from him in about 8 months now and that's a good thing.
Texas Walker Ranger
Yes, I know the show is Walker, Texas Ranger but this man got the name from someone I worked when I was a bank teller. TWR also looked slightly like Chuck Norris, just not as good looking. And I'm not a Chuck Norris fan. He's not a bad guy, he just doesn't do it for me.
Did you know that bank tellers and T.V. anchorwomen are commonly stalked? This was not a fact I enjoyed hearing while I worked in the branch. I guess tellers appeal to certain types of men because they smile (if they want to keep their jobs) and give out money.
TWR used to come into the branch I worked at (he probably still does), wearing the same purple tank top and cut-off denim shorts each time. All of the tellers at our branch had problems with him.
TWR seemed to think greasing himself up to go to the branch was a good idea. He would come in dripping in either oil or sweat about every three days. He would never get a cash card because that would take away from his precious "flirting" with the girls behind the counter.
TWR would show up in the window and lean on the counter towards the girl counting the money. Here's a hint, when the teller has been trained in potential robbery situations, this does not put her at ease. The added 'benefit' of having TWR in your window was having to use cleaning solution after he left just to dispose of the residue he left behind.
I was 18 when TWR started aiming his attentions towards me. I think he had to be at least 36 then. He showed me a picture one day of his kids. The girl looked to be at least 13 years old. This man was technically old enough to be my father and he had an eye for me.
He came up to my window and tried to pass me a note. Here's another hint. If you want to ask a bank teller out, passing a folded note to her is NOT a good idea. I had images of him holding a pistol in his denim shorts (disgusting on multiple layers) and demanding for me to 'put the money in the bag.' Here is the conversation:
TWR: This is for you.
B: What?
TWR: It's my contact information. You could call me.
B: No I can't.
TWR: I thought you'd want to.
B:
TWR: Oh. Alright.
Let me just say, that little lie saved many a teller from the horror of TWR advances. I was revered!
Maybe I'm too picky when it comes to men. I'm looking for that intelligent man, the one who likes to discuss events, has a romantic side, is funny, and understands that my friends are the most important part of my life. I want him to be my friend and I his. I want him to respect my choices in life as I would respect his. I want him to want me for who I am, not how big my boobs are. This seems like too much to ask.
3 Comments:
At 6:23 AM, CarpeDM said...
Oh, dear God in Heaven. That is crazy. My skin crawled after reading "Oh, Uncle Ga-ga, give it to me!"
Reminds me of the guy who tried to pick me up in the bar that looked like Adolf Hitler. When people would ask me why I wasn't interested, my response was "You know I'll slip. I'll suddenly cry out "Yes, Adolf, you big stud, you." That's not my idea of a good sweet nothing.
At 4:20 PM, Matt said...
Oh Lord God in Heaven! I know that Dana's skin crawled, but I laughed hysterically! Also at Dana's comment, you crack me up. I do not think that you are being picky, they better damn good to you, cause if they are not I do not know how to decide who should be baled out of jail first, Scott or me. I will talk to you later Little Sister.
Big Brother
At 10:28 AM, Firebear said...
Wow! thank you again, I love dating stories. Don't blame yourself for others' short comings!
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