The Game–in a more serious sense

So, I know it’s been a while, I apologize.  There is no good reason.Book cover of The Game: Penetrating the Secret...

I write today, however, about something that I find interesting, and crazy, and slightly horrific.  That is, pickup artists.  If you had asked me but a month ago if I thought that pickup artists were any real threat to a woman and her dignity, I would have laughed in your face.  I assumed that pickup lines really only worked on less-intelligent girls, or girls who wanted to be “picked up” anyway.

A few months ago, a friend of mine randomly sent me an email in which he told me about these underground, well-organized, groups of men who work together and pick up women, and he sent me a link to a forum about learning to pick up women, and get them to sleep with you.  I thanked him for his concern, told him I’d be on the lookout, was briefly horrified that anyone would pay $2K for a 3 day workshop on anything, much less talking to women, then promptly forgot about it.  When I mentioned the email to another male friend, he told me about a book called “The Game” by Neil Strauss, and that it was something I’d probably enjoy reading, and find interesting, but that these communities really do exist.  I again, put the tidbit of information into the back of my mind and moved on with my life.

Fast forward a couple of months.  I’m at work, and I get a message from a guy who had emailed me earlier, but I wasn’t able to go out with due to conflicts in schedules.  He tells me his flight was cancelled, and asks if I’d like to meet up for a drink.  I had dinner reservations at 8:30, so I told him I’d love to (thinking he seemed like an interesting enough person, and if he wanted to buy me a diet coke and keep me from snacking before dinner, who was I to refuse?).

We meet at a neighborhood bar/restaurant.  I had ordered a Diet Coke from the waitress before he arrived, and when he did get there, he put down his stuff, but after I mentioned that the waitress should be back soon, he said he preferred to go to the bar.  He went to the bar, and made conversation with everyone there while he waited for his drink, and I waited for him at the table.  I thought it was weird at first, but rolled with it.  He then came back to the table and we talked.  The conversation was awesome.  It was funny back and forth flirty banter.  Really some of the better conversation I’d had on a date in a while.   He did say some slightly negative things to me now and again–things like “It’s like you’re sitting there, waiting for me to entertain you” even though I was certain I’d been keeping up my end of the conversation.  He’d then say something sexual…in a challenging way, and I’d feel obligated to up my banter to be more flirty, more sexual.  He’d say “Haven’t you ever been in an intense fight with someone–yelling and throwing things–and then suddenly wanted to make out with them?”  And I’d say “Can’t say that I have–but I could see the intrigue.  I’ve always wanted to throw plates at someone.”  Then he’d suggest we go into the kitchen at the restaurant and I could throw a few plates at him.  It kept escalating, and when I told him I had to meet my friends for dinner in 45 minutes, he outright suggested that we spend the next 45 minutes in a cab to my place, and then my bedroom.

I blanched.  I knew there was a reason that was bad–but couldn’t think of it.  I had never met this guy before.  We’d spent a total of an hour in each others’ company, and the only excuse I came up with was “My roommate is home”.  That was it.  No “I’m saving myself” not even a “I don’t take guys home on a first date”…just “but my roommate is home”.  It was literally the only reason I could come up with, even though I knew there were other reasons.  There I was, seriously considering going home and sleeping with a total stranger–for no good reason.  He saw my quandry, and said “We don’t even need to have sex.  I’d just really like to put a big smile on your face…just let me do that, and I’ll do the anti-guy thing and not ask for anything in return.”  And instead of being horrified, or offended, I just said “Haven’t I been smiling enough tonight?”  After a few more minutes, and me feeling more and more confused as it went on, I simply said, “I’ve got to go meet my friends” and I caught a cab home.

This experience plagued me for a while.  I felt absolutely ridiculous.  This guy was attractive–but not “hot” in the traditional sense.  He was an inch shorter than me–and that night I was in heels–so he was 3 inches shorter than me, had a receding hairline, and was still packing his ginormous suitcase from his cancelled flight. When he walked in, there hadn’t been an immediate attraction like I’ve felt in the past–and even the first few minutes of conversation were just…normal.  And suddenly I had completely lost my mind.  I spent a week wondering what had happened.  Then I vaguely remembered the random “helpful” email and the book I’d been told about.  I purchased the book immediately.

The things this guy was doing, were all the things that Neil Strauss talks about in the book.  Mystery and Style–teaching men to manipulate women so they react in a certain way.  Things that seem innocuous enough.  Honestly, if I had read the book before this experience, or watched the VH1 show, I would have thought these girls were just silly bimbos who wanted to go home with whoever offered, and these guys were just the ones offering.  Instead, I got a firsthand experience and realized that they are very effective manipulation tactics.  It’s terrifying.  You should check it out.  It was an eye opening experience for me, and I think women should be more aware of this.  Obviously, not every guy is using tactics, and the basic idea (that of getting shy, awkward guys out of their shells) is great.  It’s the manipulation tactics that I think women should be aware of.  I consider myself a relatively intelligent woman.  In the past several years, I’ve had a LOT of dating experience.  My brain failed me–and not because of raw chemistry (my brain has failed on those occasions too), but because a guy who appeared to be normal, manipulated my feelings. 


Just a quickie: Please don’t do this

Photograph of two players participating in a c...

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I know it’s been awhile. I promise to be better–things have been crazy. In the meantime…here’s a quick “Not to do–EVER”.

A friend of mine met a guy at a bar. They hit it off, went out a couple of times, but it kind tapered off. One day, after not hearing from him for a couple of days, she texted him: “Hey, how’s it going?” This was his response:


Sorry I’ve been unresponsive, it’s been pretty chaotic of late. My work has been putting a lot of pressure on me to log some extra hours and with the departure of some colleagues from the organization I’ve absorbed their work- so a few ingredients to make a stressful work environment. It’s ok, not too overwhelming but at this point it’s taken a tad of a toll. I’m trying to keep my head up, have a good attitude, and just smile. Oh well, 2010 has been crazy busy but it’s March so that means nice sunny weather is around the corner.

I hope your preparations for this weekend are coming along smoothly. Your body is probably ready, it’s the mental aspect that can be the real grind. I ran a lot in high school, and not too toot my own horn, but I was my League MVP my senior year in Track and was named the athlete of the year. I never lost a race my senior year in the 1,500m and 3,000m, and last leg of 4×400 (ran the 800 a few times for a good workout during the meet when I was resting from the longer distances, like a good speed workout). I now enjoy more lifting, and getting stronger because I’ve always had this skinny complex that I’ve spent my whole life trying to put on weight.

At least you will be in some warm weather, and I’ve head nice things about Orlando. You do need to hit up Miami, and really south beach. It’s a personal favorite as there are some wonderful relaxing nooks to be found in south beach. Nothing like a good book, some music, a nice beach, warm sun, maybe a football or volleyball, and naps in the sun. Love it!

Last dodge ball game of the year tonight =( Hopefully we’ll end on a ‘W’.

Take Care,


Now–in other circumstances, an email such as this would be acceptable. But it’s not acceptable when the only questions was “How’s it going?” Something shorter, sprinkled with a question or two would have been the way to go. Yes–she was training for a marathon–which is awesome.  All he needed to ask was “how’s the training going?”  the rest of the information could have been shared in a later correspondence (or not at all).  Also–it’s never cool to “toot your own horn” as much as he does in this email. Really–no one cares about your high school track record. Just sayin.

Guest Post by Scarlet: Trying Not to Get Laid

Bobby Flay performing a cooking demonstration ...

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First off, allow me to introduce myself, I am Adventure-K’s friend, Scarlet. I am in my mid-twenties and moved to DC after college to live with my college boyfriend. After 2 years of playing house it just wasn’t working so I moved out and on and am now navigating the dating world of DC. Unlike my lovely friend I drink and as you might have already guessed since I “lived in sin”– believe in sex before marriage. I can vouch that K is awesome and fun sans alcohol.

Last summer I was at a bar in Arlington with my roommate and we were about to leave to meet K and some other friends for karaoke. A guy approached us with his friend and asked if we wanted to play darts. At first glance he was not attractive to me, but after a second look I realized he bore a resemblance to the famous TV chef, Bobby Flay— and I have an odd crush on Bobby Flay. Alas, all the dart boards were being utilized so we stood around talking for a bit, my roommate and Bobby’s friend politely played their wingman and woman positions while Bobby and I chatted. Somehow the conversation drifted to politics (this is DC after all) and Bobby said he was more conservative and I am definitely more liberal. I said I didn’t like to debate politics but he should call me and we could get together to talk about other stuff.

We went out for drinks and then he was leaving to go to Nashville for his brother’s wedding for a week. Now, I like to drink, but Bobby talked about drinking so excessively and was so proud at his consumption I began to not believe him (you have to drink water at some point, though he wouldn’t admit it) and I started to think that he thought he was impressing me with this. However, he was generally nice and funny so I texted back when he was in Nashville and we scheduled a date for when he came back.

It was the day after my birthday and when he picked me up he came in to meet my roommates and said we were going out to celebrate. Since it had just been my birthday I was touched that he wanted to celebrate my birthday on a second date. I was wrong. He wanted to celebrate because he was just offered a new job where he’d be making “a lot more money,” a fact he announced to my roommates and me and then continued to repeat throughout the night– and you could just tell he wanted me to ask, “How much money?” Which is just tacky. Then, Bobby was telling me about his brother’s wedding and he divulged that his brother and his now wife waited until marriage to have sex, so he sat down with his brother to “give him some pointers.” OK, fine. Then he was telling me about his nerdy younger god-brother who “must be trying to not get laid” and he said that he was also a nerd in his younger days and was “trying not to get laid, haha.” Of course all I wanted to ask was, “This is you trying to get laid?”

To recap, Bobby excessively talked about 1) how much alcohol he consumed and how little else he consumed on a daily basis, 2) he was about to make SO MUCH money, 3)how he was clearly a sex god who could teach his virgin brother skill for his wedding night and 4) that though he wasn’t in the past he was now actively trying to get laid. Charming, right? I can’t believe I went on a third date with him either.

We went out the day before 4th of July and I was hungover, annoyed with him and pretty positive there would be no more dates, but I wanted to give him a chance– and I had nothing else to do.

This brings me to my final annoying habit of Bobby’s– he talked about his ex-girlfriend/s excessively. Now I realize at this juncture in my life everyone I date will have exes– and I don’t care– but hold off the first couple dates mentioning them– that is all I am saying– it is just weird to be sitting around talking about exes. I asked Bobby what he was doing on 4th of July and he said that all of his friends were going to his ex’s for a BBQ so he was going with a friend to another BBQ. Why on earth couldn’t he just say he was going to a BBQ??? We went to an Austrian place for lunch and I made a mention of having been to Austria, he asked with who and I said my ex. I figured if you can’t beat him, join him. Then we went on a driving tour of DC– he was still relatively new to the area. He said he was thinking of moving to the city (from Arlington) as to be closer to the new fantastic-paying job and he asked me if I liked living in the city. I told him that I did but I couldn’t really be a judge because my life was different when I lived in the city (I moved to Arlington from DC after the breakup). He asked why and I told him because I lived with my ex– this is not something I life talking about on dates! I don’t want to hear about your ex, and I if I like you, I am not going to talk about mine. No one needs to know your baggage that early on.

I navigated Bobby back to my house and said goodbye. That evening he texted me to ask me to come to a bar to bring some “liberal heft” to a friend he was having a political debate with. What did I tell him when I first met him? I don’t like debating politics.

Luckily for me his family was coming to town so he was to be unavailable for a week and then the following weekend I was going to Las Vegas. He thought I was going to Vegas while his family was there and so he asked me out for my first night in Vegas. Obviously I couldn’t. Then he asked me if I wanted to get together upon my return and I said, “Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“No?” he said.

“No,” I replied.

“Well, OK then, have a good time in Vegas, still.”

“Thanks, have a nice . . . life, I guess.”

Luckily this douchebag didn’t ruin my lust for the real Bobby Flay.

The Democrat and the Virgin

US Capitol at night. A mosaic image of around ...

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Today’s post is a story.  A story of excitement, a story of chemistry, a story of warning.  It’s a story I’m not particularly proud of–so like always, I choose to tell it in the third person.

Once upon a time, there was a young, idealistic girl who moved to D.C.  She loved it there, the people were friendly, the city was beautiful, but she wanted to find love.  She had spent the past year of her life working on the Hill, and had enjoyed it greatly, but after accepting another job, realized that, due to crazy Hill hours, her social life wasn’t anything to write home about, and she suddenly had much more time on her hands.  She took that time and created a profile—and she waited.

She didn’t have to wait long.  Soon, there were a plethora of creepy, one-lined pick up lines from jerks, and mopey emails from many a computer nerd.  But tucked into these messages were a few gems.  Messages from relatively normal men that legitimately wanted to meet her, and she now had the time to let them.

Off she went!  Meeting guy and after guy, hoping to find that elusive “spark”.  It was long, hard work.  Making conversation, trying to determine interest levels, it was exhausting.  One lovely summer evening, she went to meet with a man we will simply call “the Democrat.”  This man still worked on the Hill—so she understood the world he came from.  They met at an Irish bar, and chatted.  She drank a diet coke (maybe 2 or 5) while he sipped a beer and they conversed.  After an appropriate amount of time, he suggested a walk.  She agreed to said walk.

As they walked, they started to realize that they didn’t really have much in common.  They also realized that they couldn’t talk about the specifics of their jobs.  Discussions of politics were fun, but on a first date, it’s best not to delve too deeply into differing political philosophies.  This should have been obvious when the girl had stated in an email prior to their date: “Oh, you work on the Hill?  I recently left the Hill.  I used to work for Senator Y.”  The guy responded “Oh—I work for Senator X.”  To which the girl responded “Wow!  Senator X has introduced some interesting legislation lately.  Obviously, we have different political philosophies, but I say let’s let bygones be bygones.  Wanna buy me a diet coke and fuel my addiction?”  He responded “I’d love to purchase a diet coke or five for you.”  (So….I may have taken some liberties with the actual text of the back and forth—but that’s the gist of it)

As they continued down the D.C. street, he stopped on a corner.  She stopped too (as it would have been strange to continue walking when her date had stopped), and he asked, “do you want to come and see the view from my roof?  It’s a nice view, and I only live about 2 blocks from here.”  The young, naïve girl, set on appearing in control and sophisticated, agreed.  So to his apartment building they went.  He took her to the roof.  On one side, they looked over to the Catholic Basilica, on the other, the U.S. Capitol.  The girl began to realize just how sexy the Capitol can be (something she continues to be amazed by—the romantic power of the Capitol building–seriously, a view of that building has to be the start of many a steamy romance).  As they stood there, with yet another awkward break in the conversation, the Democrat kissed our heroine.  She realized that he was a much better kisser than conversationalist, and kissed him back.

After a few more moments gazing over the city, he offered to go down to his apartment to get something to drink.  She asked for a water, and he left her alone on the roof.  While she was there, she had the thought that she could just leave.  That she could go down the elevator and leave.  But she didn’t.  She stayed, and he brought back water, then asked her if she’d like to come downstairs, his roommate was home.  She took this to mean that he wanted to introduce her to his roommate.  So they went downstairs.  They walked into the apartment, and he showed her the space.  His roommate was quite obviously in his room, and not coming out of it.  She started to get an inkling that maybe she wasn’t here to meet his roommate.  She set her purse down on the floor in the living room, and he said, “Oh, let me take that” as he picked it up, and started down the hallway.  She followed, as most women would—we like to know exactly where our purses are.

As they walked down the hall, it occurred to her that she was walking toward his bedroom with him.  As naïve as she was, she also knew that wasn’t a good plan.  So she stopped in the doorway.  He motioned to the bed and suggested she take a seat.  She declined the offer, and kept herself planted in the doorway.  He then walked over to her, pushed her against the wall in the hallway, and kissed her.  Sidenote:  If there is a woman on earth that can actually put up a fight against that move (from a guy she actually wants to kiss), I want to meet her because I don’t believe it. 

As the girl was obviously unable to defend herself against such a move, she submitted.  After a few moments, he had maneuvered them to the bed, where they sat at the foot.  A few moments after that, they were lying on the bed.  I have mentioned that the girl in question was quite naïve.  This is not an understatement—she had never made out on a bed before—and during a small break in said making out—she realized that she was in this guy’s bed, and they had not discussed some of the finer points of her personal value system.  Her mind was racing.  She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject…so she blurted out “I have something that I think it’s important for you to be aware of.”  He said “what is that?” and she continued, in true word-vomit style “I’m a virgin and I intend to stay that way.

Looking back, the Democrat was probably taken aback by such candor.  He managed a good response, however.  “That’s cool” he said.  And kissed the girl again.  A bit later, the lady determined that it was time for her to depart, and the gentleman walked her to the metro.  They kissed goodnight, and she went home, reeling.  Not sure how to judge the experience, as it was a first for her.

To make a long story short, the Democrat and the girl went out several more times.  Each date was very similar to the first–they would realize they didn’t have a lot in common, and they’d make out.  Unfortunately, he wasn’t entirely respectful of her boundaries.  In the end, she put his number in her phone as a “Do Not Answer” so she would no longer be tempted.  The problem remained that even though they didn’t work together directly, D.C. is a very small town, and in the following months and years, his name has come up while she’s at work, and there is always the fear of running into that person that you left, not on bad terms, but on awkward terms.  Yes, he was a good kisser.  Yes, the two obviously had chemistry.  But the moral of the story is to leave when the thought initially crosses your mind–it’s a sign.  It will save you all sorts of awkward moments.  Then again, it will rob you of a funny story, and memories of the city that wouldn’t have been made any other way.

Adventures in Speed Dating

Speed dating

Image by ☺ Lee J Haywood via Flickr

I love speed dating.  I’ve only done it twice, but it is a fabulous way to spend a couple of hours.  You get to go and chat with new people of the opposite sex and there’s no initial getting into a conversation (it’s pretty hard not to just say “hi” when someone is sitting directly across from you and it’s expected.)  Nor is there any problem with escaping a conversation because the time is set and you no longer have to talk to that person if you don’t want to.  It’s fabulous.  Even if you don’t come away from it with a date, you do walk out with some GREAT stories.

I recently went speed dating with my roommate, and we were not disappointed.  Sure, there were maybe 5 guys over the course of the 2 hours that I might actually have wanted to talk to for more than the allotted 5 minutes, and none of the ones I cared to spend more time with contacted me afterwards, but it was entertainment at its finest.  This particular event was “double date speed dating” so we were speed dating in pairs, which made it all the more interesting.  Basically, the guys switched seats every 5 minutes, and you sat with your friend, and the four of you double-dated.  At the end of the night, you’d take your notes home, and you could email the people you met there by the number they had on their nametag, and they could email you in the same fashion.

First, let’s talk about the Cute Indian Guy and his creepy friend.  The Cute Indian Guy was sweet, a relatively good conversationalist, and quite respectful.  His friend was about 50 years old, and was pretty much just a Dirty Old Man.  I think that Cute Indian Guy brought Dirty Old Man because he felt a need for some moral support, and Dirty Old Man had nothing better to do on a Friday night. Obviously, I was directly opposite the Dirty Old Man.  So while I had a bit of conversation with Cute Indian Guy, mostly the Dirty Old Man and I chatted for our five minute stint.  He’d already had a bit too much to drink, and he wasn’t even trying to pretend that he wasn’t staring at my chest.  Then he started going off about how he didn’t like the speed dating thing, and how if we’d just been in a bar he would have come up to me anyway, but he wouldn’t have had to talk to some of the less attractive girls.  And I just tried not to laugh out loud.  It was quite the viewpoint on how picking up women should go—because if I hadn’t been stuck with him, I would have talked to him for maybe 2 minutes to be polite then excused myself. (Speed Dating Tip #1: Don’t stare at your date’s chest.   Speed Dating Tip #2: Don’t drink too much.  Speed Dating Tip #3: Don’t overestimate your attractiveness, or bag on people of the opposite sex)

Next, there were the DOD guys.  There were 4 of them, so we got to talk to them for two rounds and they were hilarious, and normal, which was a nice change.  They’d decided it would just be something a little different and fun, just like we had, and it didn’t hurt that they were totally cute.  My personal favorite was an incredibly tall dark and handsome gentleman from Arizona—a guy that I probably would have written off if I’d seen him somewhere else, assuming he would be your average tall, dark, handsome, boring jerk.  He wasn’t boring or a jerk—so I was pleasantly surprised and secretly hoped he’d email me later, but realized that wasn’t likely since he wasn’t taking any notes.  He didn’t email me, but I can’t say I was surprised.  Nonetheless, it was a great 5 minutes, and if we’d stayed a bit later to hang out at the bar, I would have probably chatted with him more.  As it was, we had to leave as soon as the event was over as we both had other places to be on a Friday night. (Speed Dating Tip #4: Be happy that you’re there, don’t try to play it too cool, just be willing to have a good time, but don’t take anything too seriously (yourself, OR the event)

The final worthwhile (well—story-worthy) date of the evening was with a couple of unassuming, kind of nerdy, tech guys.  We ended up kind of splitting into two conversations with them, and this guy asked about my work (I do policy like pretty much everyone else in this town, and the company I work for focuses on agriculture) so I said that, and he seemed interested, but uninformed, so I gave him my 60 second elevator speech.  I ended with “Basically, we think you can eat whatever you want, we’re not going to try and tell people that one form of food production or another is bad.”  And he responded with “I want to eat you.”   I was a little taken aback.  I thought I may have misheard what he said so I said “Excuse me?”  and he said again “I want to eat you.” I was shocked that anyone would actually say that within the first 5 minutes of meeting a person, so I said “I’m not sure how to respond to that”  and luckily the time ended, and I no longer had to talk to him.  (Speed Dating Tip #5: Don’t say wildly inappropriate things.  In fact—this is good dating advice in general—don’t proposition people within the first few minutes of meeting them!)

In short—go speed dating.  It’s about the same price as dinner and a movie, and it’s FAR more entertaining.

Dating v. Relationshipping

Ship Garthsnaid, ca 1920s

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Just as a warning, today’s post is a bit more…philosophical than most.  I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and if there’s something I’ve learned in my time as a single person, it’s that dating and relationshipping (yes, it’s a word) are two very different things.  While I realize that technically the purpose of dating is to find someone with whom you would like to have a relationship and eventually marry, often I end up getting caught up in how great/awful dating is.  It’s both, and the outlook can change within minutes.

Pros of dating:

You get to meet new people
Free food (for the ladies)
A reason to get dolled up
The element of surprise (will it go well, will it not)
Inevitable flirting
Interesting conversations
The spark/wondering of whether or not there will be a second date
That awkward yet wonderful pause at the end of the evening determining the status of a first kiss…
Getting out and about to do things you may not otherwise get around to
The hope of someone great coming along
A feeling of independence

Cons of dating:

Some are so boring you wish you’d stayed home and scrubbed the bathroom floor
Some people are confrontational, and it never leads to a good night out
One person is always more interested than the other
Being rejected
Having to reject someone
Knowing that you want something more, but not with any of the people you are meeting
The uncertainty of a date for big events

Obviously—there are many, many more pros and cons, and every date is different, and because of that, it’s an exciting process.  I’ve made friends both of guys I’ve dated, and I’ve inherited friends from them, not to mention all of the fantastic stories I have acquired in the past few years. In the meantime, there are things that one misses out on when it’s just “dating” and not “relationshipping.”

This became very clear recently, when I briefly relationshipped.  It was a new and almost strange experience after a long stint of strictly dating for fun.  And in general, it was fantastic.  It was nice to have a guy that I liked tell me that he liked me too, and who wanted to spend time with me doing a lot of different things.  It was nice to make plans and realize that we were on the same page and that he legitimately wanted to spend time with me, and almost crazier, that I legitimately wanted to spend time with him too.

Obviously, it didn’t work out.  I’m disappointed that it ended as quickly as it did, but in the end I have to believe it’s for the best, and you’d better believe I’m back up on that dating horse.  But this time, I think that dating and I have a bit more direction than we’ve had lately.

Stay tuned:  Adventures in Speed Dating are coming soon. 🙂

Valentine’s Day Part Deux

Sainsbury's corn flakes 1

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Continued from here

I get out of bed, and we walk out to my kitchen.  My house is a disaster–furniture is moved, every light is on, the kitchen is a mess.  I walk into the kitchen and open the microwave.  Inside is this crazy concoction of year-old cornflakes (I just hadn’t gotten around to throwing them out), milk, and sugar that had boiled over the sides of the bowl.  As I opened the microwave door, he picked up the bowl before I could say “That’s going to be hot!” and he asked me to open the freezer, which I did–because what else was I going to do?  So he put the bowl into the freezer, and closes the freezer door.

I then suggest that he go back to bed.  He says “OK” and went back to lay down on the couch.  I turn off the lights, turn off the movie that’s playing on his computer and go back to bed.  Five minutes later, I hear him up again.  I go back out, and he’s in the kitchen, taking the cornflake concoction out of the freezer and finding a spoon.  I babysit him while he eats it (on my new white couch), then he finally settles down and goes to sleep.

The next morning, I wake up, and everything is where it belongs.  My furniture has returned to its place, the kitchen has been cleaned, and TQC doesn’t mention the night before.  I’m not sure how to bring it up, so I don’t.

I make breakfast, and then he goes to dig his car out.  A bit later, he comes back, and says that he’s dug around his car, but the parking lot it’s parked in hasn’t been plowed yet.  So we walk over to the 7-11 (where he had parked so it would be easier to get out), and ask when the lot is supposed to be plowed.  They assure us that it should be plowed by 7pm, so we walk back to my apartment.

We spend the day mostly separate, me in my room “cleaning” and him reading and watching TV in the living room.  During the time that we’re together, he constantly compliments me–which in general I’m a fan of–but it’s too much.  Far too much and it’s getting annoying, so I find myself making out with him so I don’t have to talk to him, or listen to him tell me how great I am.  I cook, we while away the day, and at around 8pm, we walk down to the 7-11.  The parking lot has not been plowed.  His car is still 60 feet from the mouth of the lot, and there is 3 feet of snow on the ground.  Because there isn’t anything else to do–I invite him back to spend another night in my apartment.  We stop in the 7-11 to ask about the plow again, and they assure us that it should be plowed by 7am the next morning.

Nothing strange happens throughout the night–but I try to determine at which point I can tell him I don’t want to see him anymore.  I’m done.  He’s obviously not as he talks to me about the future.  I try to diffuse his enthusiasm.  I don’t agree to any of these future plans.  I’m vague when discussing what my plans for the next week are, so he never gets a straight answer about when he gets to see me again.

Sunday morning, we go back to the parking lot around 9am.  It has still not been plowed.   At this point, I really can’t take it anymore.  We dig him out.  It only took an hour, largely because I was very motivated.  We got him out, and he asked me to call him that night.  I agree, because I don’t know what else to do.

I spend the rest of my day lounging in the solitude of my apartment.  Grateful he’s gone.  Wondering how/when I’m going to break the news that I don’t want to see him again, which was complicated by the fact that I was leaving for a business trip in 3 days, and it didn’t look like D.C. was going to be functioning again before that.  At about 9:30, I text him because I don’t want to call, but I said I would.  I just ask how his day was.  He responds “I spent most of it in the emergency room.”  I obviously call him after that response, and ask what happened.  He had stopped to help push someone out of the snow, and they ran him over.  He’d broken three ribs.  After I express my condolences, he asks “So, are we okay?”

I tend to be a tactful person, and I avoid confrontation more than I should.  But I’m not about to lie to someone when they ask me a question like that straight out.  So, I say, “Not really…I don’t think we should keep dating.”  He didn’t react well, but I made it through the end of the conversation, and got the point across.  Not one of the better moments of my life, but I felt good about the overall decision.

As a caveat: after this experience, we tried to be friends.  I introduced him to the woman who is now his wife–whom he married 6 weeks after meeting, and only 8 weeks after the event this story is based on.

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