The dangers of dating out of your league

Imagine if you will, you’re drunk one night. The liquid courage allows you to flirt with the cutest guy at the bar. (Oh I hate how this is going already). You don’t think anything of it because he’s not going to be into you. But to your surprise, he asks for your number. And then you get a call. You don’t do much to get ready for the date because what’s the point? You’ll probably go to McDonald’s. Next thing you know you’re at Top Of the Hub having a smashing time.

You like cheeseburgers? I like cheeseburgers!

You like Teen Mom? I like Teen Mom!

You laugh and have fun, and then wonder what is going to happen next. And he calls you, again. Awesome. This  time, you drop some cash. You are going to look pretty. You can’t help but get excited. But once he picks you up you notice something’s different. He’s distracted. The conversation is stifled. He’s asking you odd questions. You wonder if he is trying to make you look stupid. In fact, you think he’s kind of weird. But mostly, he is so not into you. But he is still really cute, and it’s been a long time.

He drops you off and the way he says good bye, you know. He’s not going to call. It’s not so bad, it’s just you’re getting older now.  You’re worried about that and everything that goes with it. Self pity is a cunt, but lately, she’s your best friend.

Yes. This is how my last interview went. Sort of. The first interview was with three guys. I didn’t even expect to get interviewed for this job because it’s so cool. But I left the interview thinking about what a good time I had. I actually had things in common with them. They told jokes and made me laugh. And they called back almost right away!

Second interview, I’m looking pretty with a pressed suit and new manicure. The lighting is terrible but I’m glad because I am hoping my laugh lines don’t show. It was with 9 people at once. (I know, that makes my analogy a g*ng  b*ng). It was awkward as you can imagine. Half the table was paying attention to something happening behind me. I wanted to turn and look but I couldn’t. They asked me gotcha questions about the law. Imagine, Sarah Palin squirming uncomfortably in her chair as Charlie Rose stares her down.  The whole thing was over in fifteen minutes.  And when I left, I knew that was end.

And it hasn’t been fun since.  I couldn’t sleep last night. I watched marathons of Teen Mom and ate licorice sticks. Why I have licorice sticks on hand is another matter.  Eventually Rachel Maddow came on. I found her lefty rage comforting and slept for a couple of hours. I was exhausted at work and cried shamelessly.

The whole thing was just a horrible tease.

 

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