Sometimes a change up is necessary. Especially if you've just spotted a Douche-a-rooni last week in the coffee house whom you met on a disaster-date many years back, even more so, if you played a trick on him about a year ago.
Well, I met Douchebag #342 about eight years ago at the coffee house. The minute he walked in the door, I knew he wasn't my type. Redheads are hit-or-miss. Sometimes they can be handsome like Bobby Flay, or they can be the Howdie Doodie sort, and that was this guy.
Anyway, we shook hands and made small tallk, and I started thinking of excuses to get out of there as fast as possible when he made an announcement. Why don't we become "f*&k buddies," he asks. No strings attached. Hey, that sounds like fun, the way getting pulled over for going 20 over the speed limit is fun, or getting mugged on vacation, or a trip to the emergency room.
"Are you kidding me? Are you seriously effin' kidding me?" I stammered.
"Well, it'd be your loss if you didn't," he had the balls to say.
"You're an idiot," I said as I got up to leave.
Fast forward a few years. In my "Black Period," I created a fake site on Plenty of Losers, just to experiment and see how men would respond to it, using some generic model's picture.
Well, this JOKER wrote my fake character, pleading for her number. What did my fake character do? Fake character told him that she had a NICE friend (me) who met him for coffee years back, but that he acted like a pig and solicited her for sex. And she didn't want anything to do with pigs like him.
JOKER immediately apologized and admitted he was a douchebag back then, but has grown up and isn't one anymore. Fake Character shrugged him off.
Then JOKER wrote my real site and apologized for being a douchebag years ago, but that he desperately wanted to date my Fake Character (Just ruined it, pal. You weren't sorry at all). Then he wrote back to my Fake Character and said that I was weird, that he had apologized, but that I hadn't accepted his apology. Fake Character simply told him, "Sorry, I don't associate with Douchebags. Take care."
So imagine how amused I was to see JOKER-Douche-arooni, years later last week, at the same coffee house, looking, I might add, rather worse for wear, a tire around his middle, more hair gone, turning into "Balding-Fat-Howdy Doodie."
He looked at me curiously. I could tell he was thinking "She looks familiar. How do I know her?" but I left before he could remember.
The Universe and I had a good laugh together last week. Oh, the ironies, oh the ironies! Stay tuned folks.
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