Divorced Dating and Damn Drama (8 page)

"I happen to like my roommates and my car." I say meekly.

"'If you would just beg him to take you back, he might overlook your moment of insanity. You could have your old life back" she says with glee.

"My old life was awful. I wasn't allowed to live. Everything revolved around him, from what I wore to who I talked to." I said trying to get her to understand.

"You always looked presentable, but look at you now. You hardly look dressed to take out the trash" she says accusingly.

"I'm not going back to him" I say bluntly.

"Someone else is going to take him" She warns.

"They can have him." I cry then hang up. So yeah. that's why I called in sick, because even my own parents are against me. Henry has everyone wrapped around his little finger. They think everything he does is perfect; also did anyone else hear my parents calling me fat. I don't understand why one person, one single person on the entire planet won't side with me. Is there anyone on this earth that he hasn't corrupted?

As I walk across the street a car zaps by, barely missing me. "Hello it's a light people! Can we not try to kill me for 5 seconds so I can get some damn nachos?" I scream while shaking my fist like an old man. Damn kids and their sports cars. I enter the store and a rush of cold air hits me. I look around and no one is here, not even the store clerk. Bunch of slackers I laugh. I go over to the self serve nacho bar and get to work. Only seconds after I start drizzling the rich cheese on my nachos do I hear a whisper.

"Is it ok to come out yet?" I heard someone ask.

I look around the store and see no one. "Good morning America!" I yell. Oh, well that was disappointing. I was expecting it to echo.

"Shut up, they might come back." Shouts the unidentified voice. I take my sweet time finishing making my nachos, complete with spicy jalapenos, and then walk to the register. I peer over the counter and spy the clerk who is crouched on the ground shaking. He looks up at me and says "You are really stupid, you know that?" I go in to purchase nachos and I'm stupid.

"I just want to buy my nachos." I say bluntly. Everywhere I go people are mean. I want to order a pity party for one please.

"Well do it quick. I was almost robed." Juan exclaims without getting up. I noticed his name tag read Juan, that's how I deduced his name.

"What do you mean by almost?" I ask. That doesn't make sense. Why would someone almost rob this place? It's not like anyone around here would ever stick their necks out for anyone else. Which is a fancy way of saying no one would try to prevent anyone from
robbing this place.

"They came in and started firing off their weapons. I thought they were going to kill me." Juan goes on.

"So they took the money?" I ask. What? That's a legitimate question.

"No, they just looked around then left." Hmm, that doesn't sound right. I look around the store. I don't see anything smashed or anything even out of place. I look at the ceiling and see loads of red and blue dots. Paint ball dots.

"I think they were just kids from the neighbor hood having a good time. They had paint ball guns." I say meekly.

"Well, I already called the cops!" shouted Juan defiantly. I really want to say calm it down, what is this guy new to the town or something?

"They don't care" I say placing the money on the counter.
I then leave. The ruthless
vandals hit up my car a few days back. I was going to paint it over, but I rather liked the colors and patterns, so I left it. Why don't the cops care? Because this is a Gossip town. Everyone only looks out for themselves.

If you have ever been online dating, you will know that fifty percent of the conversations you have will never amount to an actual physical date. However with me it is over ninety percent. I have had countless conversations that have dropped off the edge of the earth. Some of them begin teetering right there on that edge. Yes, I know the world is round, but for this metaphor it's going to be flat.

"Do you have wifi?" Ryan asks. It's yet again another Friday night and I'm hard at work trying to conjure up some datable guys.

"Come again?
"
I ask, because we are talking on an online dating site. I think it's obvious to everyone but in case some of you think this is a valid question let me remind you that you need wifi to go online. And we are online, on a website, talking. Get it?

"Can you access the internet?" Ryan asks scratching between his toes. How stupid is this guy.

"I'm talking to you though an online dating site, so I'm going to have to go with yes." I say, trying not to sound condescending.

"Do you have any online profiles?" Ryan asks. Technically this counts as an online profile but I'm guessing he is talking about a social networking site.

"Yes." I answer truthfully. I often go to my Gossip social interactions site to comment and upload a few pictures of my cats.

"Do you have internet?" Ryan questions. Is this real? Does he not understanding that you need the internet to send messages online.

"Yes." I answered, now annoyed.

"Are you at the computer?" Ryan inquires.

"Yes." I answer, I really don't understand what is so confusing.

"Can you send me a photo?" Ryan asks. I take a photo with my computer camera and send it.

"Sent." I say after sending him the photo.

"No, I want one that no one has seen before. One just for me."' Ryan demands.

"I just took that photo, so no one has seen it before." I say trying not to lose my cool.

"I have seen it before." Ryan says. Really? He has seen a photo I just now took before. That is impossible. However I don't want to come off as mean, so I ask him where he has seen the photo before.

"Where?" I ask.

"On your other online profiles" Ryan replies.

"First off, no you have not because I just took it. Second, I never gave you my name, so how would you find my other profiles?" I accuse.

"I know how to use the internet." Ryan says with confidence. Really? Do you really Ryan, because you are acting like you have no clue how it works.

"Congratulations." I say with sarcasm. I never really say what I think, if you haven't figured that out yet.

"Send me a photo no one has ever seen
." Ryan
demands.

"Why don't you send me a photo?' I ask.

"No!" Ryan says bluntly.

"Maybe we should stop talking then." I suggest.

"Ok." Ryan accepts my suggestion. That's how a lot of conversations go. We don't really talk and just end up not talking. I don't really understand conversations like these. They just don't make any sense.

Fighting. We all do it, we all fight. It's not alright, to go around throwing punches. But, if you are ever in a fight, rip out some hair. Because while bruises takes weeks to heal, hair will take years to grow back. If you do a really good job, it may never grow back. Now I am giving you this advice because I have been in a few fights and this weekend was no exception

I went out with a man who claimed to be single. Tommy was a fit man and he showed up in a wife beater and what appeared to be his boxer shorts, they had stains on them. At least he was clean shaven. I don't think he had one hair on his entire body, and I'm
including his shiny head. His lips were
plump and I swear had a hint
of clear gloss on them. His muscles bulged out of his wife
beater and his toned physique made me overlook everything else. While I thought we were hitting it off, his girlfriend showed up and set me straight

"Who the hell are you?" She shouts walking briskly towards the table that I am seated at. This woman was on the stick figure side and had long black flowing hair. Her brows were drawn on with what looked like a sharpie. Her pink lips were outlined in red and she had a massive tattoo on her neck that looked like a spider web.

"Excuse me?" I asked standing up.

"Breaking up a marriage, really?" She shoves me in the shoulder.

"I didn't know." I said taking a few steps back still keeping direct eye contact.

"You didn't know sleeping with a married man would break up our marriage?" She shouts shoving me again.

"I didn't know he was married." I answer honestly.

"Don't play innocent with me." She jumped over the chair that was acting as a divider.

"I'm going." I say grabbing my purse and turning to leave.

"The hell you are." She shouts. She pushes me down and starts punching my face. I am blocking with one arm while the other grabs a hold of her extensions and they just rip out with ease. She reacts with horror. "My hair my beautiful hair." She cries. "Mark my words I will get you for this." She runs off screaming. Did I win? I slowly get up and look down at a puddle nearby. My face is already starting to swell and my ribs hurt. I don't think I won. However she left first, so maybe I did. I get back on the chair that I was previously sitting on.

"So what time can you come over?" Asks Tommy, my date.

"What?' I asked trying to get the world to stop spinning.

"For sex, you're still going to sleep with me right?" He asks with a hint of cocky arrogance.

"No." I said then got up and limped off to my car. Oh my car. You hold all my secrets. Like the secret about how I took my husband's exams for him. It was because of me he passed the bar. Not the one that serves alcohol but the test you had to take in order to be a lawyer. I dressed up as him and took the test for him. I was honestly amazed it worked. I really don't look like him. Why did I do it? When you live a life where everything revolves around your husband and his success, you would do anything to make him happy. Yes, I admit it was spineless. Yes, it was cheating. One might say I did it for love. I loved him so much that I would have killed for him. Pre meditated, cold blooded murder type of kill.

I have been called fake before. Not fake as in only caring about designer clothes, but fake as in not who I say I am. Being cat fished many times, I sympathize with the man who questions my identity. However, how far I will go to prove that is another story. Take Mason for example. He was under the impression that I wasn't real.

"I just want to know that you are real." Mason says honesty.

"Fair enough." I reply. "Tell me what you want me to do to prove to you that I'm real." I say honestly. I am real, so proving it shouldn't be that hard, right?

"Text me." Mason replied giving me his number in the message. I texted the number given.

"Ok I texted you." I typed, making sure he got it.

"Now send me a photo." Mason texted. So I send him a photo.

"I didn't get it." Mason texts back. "Add me on your Gossip social networking site." He demanded eagerly. I sent him a contact request on Gossip the social networking site.

"Ok, now call me." I proceed to call him. He picks up, then immediately hangs up

"Ok, now send me a nude photo." Yeah, no I'm not going to do that. Haven't I done enough already?

"No, I'm tired of jumping through hoops for you." I say bluntly. Well I am. He has been ordering me around and I, like a fool, have been doing it.

"How do I know you are not a guy?" Mason asks in a condescending manner.

"Really?" I text. I mean really? You won't talk to me but you expect me to send you a nude photo?

"I need a nude photo." Mason demands.

"Good bye." I text back and block his number. I'm just not in the mood. I mean come on. Did you see how I jumped through hoops for him? To be honest, I don't think he ever thought I was fake he just wanted nude photos. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he did think I was a fake. I doubt it!

When it's cold out, my favorite thing to do is to curl up with a good book, however I have not gone to the library for several weeks. This is due to the fact that I have been trying to get a boyfriend and people keep making my crappy car crappier. It's just devastating if you don't like me fine, but don't mess with my car. It's all I have. People are so cruel. Another good thing about the cold is my cats are full of snuggles. They just want to lie on my all day. They used to just hang out in Sara's room but I have more body fat and thus can keep them warmer. They chose me for survival purposes. Well, not really, Sara keeps the temperature pretty reasonable but the cold always affects me.

I look outside, I don't think it's going to snow, but it would be nice if it did. The Gossip town doesn't usually get snow, seeing how it's in a valley. We got hail once, it ruined my car. Ok, my car was already ruined, but it definitely made it worse.

You are not my savior, and I sure as hell am not yours. Yes, I can try to help you. Yes, I can try to point you in the right direction. Yes, I can Google something and pass it off as fact. But no, I can't get you a million dollar contract and a platinum record. Sorry, but I can't. I don't have the power. If I did, do you think maybe, just maybe, I would do it for myself then? Maybe, if I was all great and powerful I would use it to help myself? I mean honestly. Can you even think about that? Even just for a second. Side note: You need talent to go platinum, and your one man garbage garage band supported fully by your mom doesn't exactly mean you're perfect. I mean you could be, but I saw you play, and no.
I'm not saying I had a bad date. I'm just saying
you do not have what it takes. You need to practice more. Then, well, then practice even more. Because you need it. Practice that is.

I am getting to the point where I hate talking to guys. They always ask for something. They always think I have some sort of hidden talent they can exploit for personal gain. Take Marshal for example. He was convinced that I had the power to make him a star. That I possessed the connections needed for him to make it big. Let's just say he was more than disappointed when I failed to live up to his expectations. Let's start from the beginning, shall we?

"Come on, you have a camera. Baby, film my music videos." Marshal whines for the hundredth time during the five minutes I tried to have a conversation with him.