I’m Kissing Ass AND Going to Hell in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Happy Friday! I’m so excited that I finished my presentation this morning (not such an amazing accomplishment, seeing as I was supposed to have the thing finished last Tuesday, but whatevah…it was not easy—at all!)!

So. Yesterday blew. Hard. I don’t know what it is around here in the office, but you try to create a little excitement and people get soooooo bent out of shape!! Seems I unknowingly encroached on one of the PR people’s territory, and her claws came out over email and…WHOA!! She cc:d the world: Boss Party Pants, presidents of several divisions, her whole staff, my new boss, etc. etc. etc…

I sort of freaked inside and shot back a bit of a breezy email, trying to smooth things over lightly.

Well. She would have NONE of that! My cheery email only enraged her even more. This time I got a SCATHING reply, again cc:d to the world. Talk about bitch slapped. This thing HURT. A lot.

I knew I should have stopped there, but I just couldn’t. Yes, I saw the errs of my ways, and yes, I saw her point. Clearly. But I meant no disrespect with what I did. I thought I was doing something good! I really did.

So I sent back another sickly-sweet, semi-grovely, ass-kissing email that went on and on about how wonderful she and her team are and how I recognize how hard they work and blah, blah, blah. And what do you know? Voila! Everything was sunshine and roses!!

I hate kissing ass. But sometimes you gotta do…

So by the end of the day I was ready for a glass of wine, and I was also starving. So it was perfect timing when Mini-RAD #3 called (I know, I HATE internet dating, but I was exhausted from fighting…and I was hungry…and thirsty for heaven’s sake!!

Mini-RAD #3:

Name: Chuck (as in, “What the Chuck?”)

Age: 46 (Um, really? You looked more like 56)

Relationship Status: Clearly divorced.

Occupation: Marketing guy for fast food restos

Length of date: Long enough to eat appetizers and have two glasses of wine and piss him the hell off!

We did: Drinks and apps at Italian place. I like sitting outside, but I knew he wouldn’t want to. Still, I don’t know why, but I insisted we sit outside on the patio.

I wore: The Diane Von Furstenburg-esque wrap print knit dress and suede super-high DKNY wedges (that make me stand well over 6’) I’d worn to work that day.

He wore: Navy polo shirt, khaki shorts, can’t remember what shoes, a toupee and either dentures or a really horrible set of porcelain veneers. Oh…and the TAN!!! So, so gross. Possibly a combo of spray-on, tanning bed, and laying out by the pool in his banana hammocks. Trust me, he looked nothing like his photos.

Convo: Slimy. I don’t know how else to describe it. He’s a former old-school DJ. You know the type…the cheesy wedding reception DJ…sleazy and slimy and all….heyyyy. We talked about relationships and how hard it is to date here (this city—though it’s much, much easier than the last place I lived!), and I even shared my Organic VS. Artificial Dating theory. He said some things that I didn’t necessarily agree with, so I told him so, and I told him why, and every time I did, he’d look at me and say, “Well, this isn’t going very well, is it??” And I’m like, why?? Because I don’t agree with everything you’re saying? Um…it’s called having a conversation, Chuck.

Oddities of note: I asked him why he was on the internet dating site, and he started in on this story about his ex-wife getting on the very same site a mere 8 months after they’d gotten married and started trying to pick up dudes. I’m all—WHAT?! He went into great detail about how she’d contacted his BEST FRIEND via the site and how the BF didn’t know it was her until she sent him a photo, but when she did…sure enough. And I’m like, “Why the hell are you on the site? The very same site your wife used to CHEAT ON YOU?!” And then I had a giggle fit. That turned into laughter. And then I started looking around for the video cameras, because I was sure this had to be a JOKE. It was the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard. And OHHH! Did he get PISSED! He was so angry that he was all, “I don’t even know what to say!!” So I said, “Goodnight.” And he stormed off into the steamy evening.

Impressions: Grossed out. I had to take a shower when I got home. And then I checked my email, and sure enough—another SCATHING email (the theme of the day, obviously)…basically telling me that I’d hurt him more than anyone ever had in his whole entire LIFE and that I was a waste of a pathetic life. I am truly, truly going to HELL.

Chances I’ll see him again: I’m seriously praying that I never do. Not even at the cheesiest of DJ’d wedding receptions—ever.