New life, new awful.

I have just moved from a town which I hated more with each passing day, to one where I think I can actually have a genuinely not-awful life. However, no transition can be fully seamless. There are two parts to this story: me doing stupid stuff, and a strange person being very strange.

My second day in town was New Year's Eve, which I spent trying to be as drunk and happily raucous as possible. I think I succeeded: after trolling bars and funk concerts with my cousin for a person - any person - to kiss at midnight, I wound up at a party being thrown by no one I knew, accompanied only by my cousin and a couple of friends. I managed, in my drunken stupor, to find and sidle up to the only attractive, available, AND straight man at the party. Within ten minutes we were making out. Within forty minutes, my cousin had given up on getting my attention and decided to walk the long several miles home himself. Shortly thereafter, I was trying to convince my new friend to ditch his friends and his little sister to come home with me. He gave me his number anyway.

The next day, I already had my very first date in my new town. It was not with New Year's Eve Guy; it was arranged on the dating website I'd joined the day I arrived here. Excited by the possibilities of meeting as many new people as possible (likely in an attempt to mentally drown some of the truly awful people I'd left behind), I did not find it at all strange that a person I'd been talking to for all of twenty minutes combined wanted to meet me so soon. So, I show up at the generic bar I'd been asked to go to, having been told by my date that it was the most decent place he could go at the moment, since he didn't drive and it was walking distance from his place.

I wait for fifteen minutes, and no one has turned up. In the meanwhile, New Year's Eve Guy texts me to see if I'd like to hang out with him. Already becoming annoyed by my date's lateness, I tell him that I'm busy at the moment, but that I might be able to see him later that evening. I text my date to tell him that I'm sitting at the end of the bar. Five minutes later, he responds "Coming, coming." This angers me, so I do what any awful person would: text her friend exactly what is happening. The conversation went as follows.

Me: Date is now obnoxiously late, but says he's on his way, and a cuter boy is texting me to hang out. Make obnoxious pay for my pre-gaming for hottie? Yup. Happening.
Response: Haha niiiice.

Except, the response is not from my comrade-in-awful. It is from New Year's Eve Guy, who I have just accidentally revealed myself to. The conversation continues.

Me: That was NOT meant for you.
NYEG: Too late!
Me: At least you know I like you better? Seriously, who makes a girl wait for 40 minutes?
NYEG: What a shmuck
Me: Agreed. Would you still be okay with hanging out despite my hilarious faux-pas?

He agrees. I close out my tab (which consists of me ordering an Abita root beer to go, simply so that I can tip the bartender for serving me nothing but pints of water for the past 45 minutes), text Obnoxious that I've decided to leave, and meet NYEG at a different bar. We proceed to have a great time, until I get some odd texts.

Obnoxious: Fuck i got into a wreck.
Me: Shit, are you okay? I already left but I hope it's not too bad.

No response. I show NYEG; he already knows what was happening, might as well let him in on the rest. We both express our confusion (remember, kids: Obnoxious supposedly doesn't drive), awkward-feeling, and guilt for not really understanding or caring too much.

Later, at 1 am, after me and NYEG have been spending the last handful of hours having a great time together, the following text arrives.

Obnoxious: I just left hospital and have no way to get home. What a night.

I don't respond, because I don't really know what to say. NYEG and I are confused. Does he expect me, a total stranger, to help him out? Doesn't he have anyone else to help him? Why did he leave if he can't get home? We are obviously both awful people for speculating on this so much and not really caring about it; maybe that's why we were hitting it off.

But then! Exactly half an hour after that, at 1:30 am...

Obnoxious: Well im home. Sorry about the sudden accident and i hope i can still meet you

He cannot still meet me. I am having a good time with someone else who does not seem to be a very confused person. I mean, how did he get home so quickly, when only a half hour ago he had no way to get home?

Feeling a bit guilty about all this, I text Obnoxious the next day asking if he's okay. He basically says it's pretty minor, and I debate whether to respond, thinking that even if this bad thing did happen to him, there's something very strange about it all. Lo and behold, before I've even come to a decision, he texts me just a few minutes later.

Obnoxious: Hey whats up? Would you like to do something next week or something?

"Hey whats up?" Why do you have to greet me right now? Weren't we just kind of having a conversation already? I don't respond. Mere hours later, he texts again: "Guess not, good luck."

I am very, very annoyed by passive aggression, and decide to write this person off totally. Unfortunately, he is not done with me. The next day, he sees me online on the dating website and instant messages me.

Obnoxious: yo
Me: hey, how are you feeling?
Obnoxious: good, did you get my texts?

Pro-tip, people of the world: DO NOT write off my attempt to be nice and ask you about your health after your supposed minor hospital stint in order to hassle me - AGAIN - about not giving you attention. I give a bullshit reason for not responding, and blow off his next attempts to make plans with me.

The next day, he messages me again, with a simple "sup." I do not respond. The following day, he messages me saying, without preamble, "lets do something."

Clearly, this person does not get the picture. I no longer feel bad about not feeling bad enough about his accident, and now I actually seriously doubt that ever happened in the first place.

The day after "lets do something" I get another message. It says, "do you have a chance to talk? i'm having a bad day."

I do not have a chance to talk, I don't know you, and I don't care. That is all.

P.S. Obnoxious says he was in this band I like called Deer Tick, but the entire internet is unable to confirm this claim.

Text Message From a Boy Redux: Facebook Message From a Boy

You may know him as the mime that played terrible drums at that Halloween party. If you run into this human, please remember this entry and...just DON'T. He will text you "baby". He will flex at his reflection. He will grow out a bad handlebar mustache and call himself a cowboy. Here is the last exchange between the two of us. My comments are in italics, because sometimes I can't help myself.

Mime (11 de noviembre a las 6:04):
Marriage a from scenes, back that need I'll (backwards this read)

Mime (13 de noviembre a las 6:57):
?

Me (15 de noviembre a las 0:07 ):
hey,
yes i have them. our receiver just broke (i don't know why) (his response to my phone breaking the previous week was "why??" so I had to clarify this) and i'll have to take it apart to get disc 1 out of it. it's stuck in there, of course.

Mime (15 de noviembre a las 23:04):
: reasons I don't loan my things.

Me: ( 15 de noviembre a las 23:3):
you suck

Mime ( 16 de noviembre a las 1:47):

I suck, really? You're seriously one of the most boring girls I've ever met, I never felt like I could say anything meaningful to you in spite of it. Don't talk shit to me, I don't/didn't give a fuck about you or any of your psychoanalysis. You seriously know nothing about me, I'm extremely introverted with everybody. I sure as fuck didn't give you a thing (other than empty sex) and I've given that to a lot of people, and am still, was when I was with you, and will for a good while. Girls are nothing but games. Give me my DVD you borrowed: you can just drop it off any night, to ---- at ---- -----. If we never spoke again I wouldn't give two fucks, ciao.

Me (16 de noviembre a las 2:10):
Empty sex that YOU BEGGED FOR.

Mime (16 de noviembre a las 2:23):
It's a game. Each girl is different, you weren't that intriguing, though. I never begged for anything, and was fucking/am fucking more than five girls (including you). You're not even my type at all: I just got pissed with your cavalier attitude and did or said whatever it took to fuck you again. Playing hard to get was the only thing that interested me, and that wasn't that fruitful considering I'd already fucked you, but I could've went further, it just got old.
Note: I had stopped talking to the kid. He later apologized for...he wasn't quite sure...then he texted me "I'm in love with you" after suggesting we watch Toy Story 3 and have make-up sex.

Me ( 16 de noviembre a las 17:36):
You asked ----- for my number the next day. Then you texted me asking if we could see each other again. I was OK with never seeing or talking to you again.
Ooh gosh, you've really got us women figured out. Doing and saying whatever it takes to get fucked is not sly, it's pathetic.
I don't care who you're fucking now or who you were fucking while we were hooking up. And don't be naive enough to think I wasn't doing the same thing. (I wasn't.)
Playing hard to get always works. If my arrogance gets me laid, then that's awesome.

Mime (16 de noviembre a las 17:40):
That's true, but you don't have much else, perhaps I thought you did at some point.

Mime (16 de noviembre a las 17:41):
I'm sorry, but you have nothing to be arrogant about (except the fact that I'm smarter than you and have a college education), my friends were all asking me why I was even fucking with you. ("friends".)

Me (17 de noviembre a las 21:36):
Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? I don't care what your friends think of me. My roommate and I tried to take the receiver apart and it's impossible to get DVD 1 out. I can leave the others with ----- at my earliest convenience.
Man, you really shouldn't lend your things out.

Me (17 de noviembre a las 21:40):
Also, please do not attempt to come over my house. I will call the cops.

Mime (17 de noviembre a las 21:43):
--------: you're a fucking idiot. (Good one!)

Mime (17 de noviembre a las 21:47):
Give me my DVD back (what the fuck is a receiver) that's a stereo component? Your DVD player? Fucking idiot. Do you understand how fucking stupid you sounded at ------'s? There was no way to keep a straight face.

Me (18 de noviembre a las 0:54):
Attached is a picture of a receiver. I'm blocking you now, I'm sure ----- will let you know when your DVD is at ---- -----.