A story gets better the more you tell it. I have this blog because, if I didn’t share all the sad, strange, unbelievably unlucky things that happened to me… well my life would just be sad, strange, and unbelievable. Instead I tell the stories. I tell them to a friend, then to my mom, then to another friend, then to a stranger I’ve met at a party, then I write it here. Storytelling transforms the hurt. It recasts the simply peculiar into a new, misshapen beauty. It restoreth my soul.

For this next trip into ‘seriously is this happening what is this life that i live come on now enough is enough,’ I want to focus on the actual telling of the story. Complete with reactions. This conversation occurred exactly as written, except I’ve omitted some expletives in order to sustain the illusion that I’m a lady and shit.


So the holiday party was Saturday.

Gatsby themed.

Oysters and Opulence.

Live acrobatics.



[ummm yes!!!]


Chandeliers and Champagne.


This guy who is new is there, looking kind of bored.

He has a nice face so I was going to rescue him.

But then everytime I see him he’s talking to someone.



How nice of you.]


I don’t get to him until the end of the party.

I ask him what he thought and if he’s going to any after-party.

He doesn’t know about any after-parties, so I invite him to the one I’m going to with some of my friends on another team.

There’s fireball. Not a whole lot.

We go and sit in a room for hours just talking and talking about athletics and social justice and Africans versus African-Americans in higher education.

He’s nigerian but argues my points.

I fall in Liberal Pinko Commie love a little bit.



All of a sudden it’s 4 am and I realize I have to get to an early brunch held by [name redacted] the next day.


[AHAHAH this is the best story ever]


So we leave. He’s going to the same neighborhood as me. He’s staying with a friend because he lives down south (bay).

So we share an uber that he calls.

He’s big- 6’3″ and solid.

… but isn’t wearing a proper coat and is super cold while we’re waiting.

… puts his arm around me for snuggles.

We get into the car – whispering to each other and holding hands.

Driver asks if we’re on our first date.

I freak out.


[oooh noooooo!

I mean close enough, but still.]


Then he asks if we’ve been dating a while.

I freak out again.



come on, son.]


Guy says: “No. We’re just coming from a holiday party.”

“Ahhh! So you guys are just a couple!” says the most awkward Could-Shut-The-@#$#-Up-Right-About-Now driver in the world.


[I’m actually sitting here laughing with tears in my eyes at this socially incompetent jackass.]


We just give up so he’ll shut it: “Yup. Yup. Old married couple. That’s us.”

We get to my place. Guy gets out to let me out. Driver asks if we’re both getting out here, even though he knows we asked for two stops.

I could kill this guy.


Anyways we’re outside the car.

Guy is all- “Thanks for inviting me out. I had such a good time with you.”

I’m all “me too” (ps i love you nbd).


Very sweetly, he asks if he can kiss me.


[I want one!]



We kissssssssssss.

All kinds of fireworks.

He says: “So… What are you thinking…?”


[but it’s 4am and you have ish to do]

We’re in a tight hug.

And I can sense his significant… interest.




But right, I got ish to do in the am.

Plus my room is messy

Plus no. Just no. I mean. Right? What do I look like? No.

So I tell him I think he should go to his friend’s and that we should exchange numbers.

He slides back into the car and says yeah- i’ll send you my number.

[oh, ok]


I float up to my apartment on a cloud of giggles, heart bubbles, and girly shit.

… Pass out, wake up in the morning thinking about him.

Tittering little knots in my belly.

And then I realize: how is this sucker gonna send me his number when he doesn’t have mine?

I just got played, I think.


[That’s what i was wondering, unless there’s some way for him to find you at work]


But at the end of the day (after a great brunch where we play guesstures and I rock at meeting new people),

(For once)

I get a call from him.

Didn’t pick up cuz I don’t pick up random numbers cuz it’s 2013.



Call him back.

He goes: “just wanted to see how you were, and by the way I have a weird question.

… Don’t freak out.

… But did we kiss last night?”



My heart drops. Da fuq does this mean?




I’m like “um yeah.”

Him: “Yeah… That’s what I thought. I have to tell you something.

I’m not single.”

I kind of go numb.

This is the fifth time this shit has happened this year.



He goes on:

“I don’t want to blame it on the alcohol; I’m obviously very attracted to you and think you’re really smart and funny.

But you already know that.

I just made a selfish decision.”

He then says he still wants to hang out with me.

And promises that he will be able to keep his hands to himself .

“What time do you get to work? What time do you leave? Do you ever hang out in the peninsula? I want to get together with you.”

First of all,


I live in San Francisco.

Why the hell would I stay down south any longer than I had to?

Second of all,


I’m not going to let you bask in the glory of my awesomeness without my getting anything out of it.

… Essentially condoning a plan to emotionally cheat on his other.


I politely beg off of the phone.

Then I text him being like- you know what, this isn’t the first time this has happened this year, and I really don’t think I want to talk to you for a while.

At least until the new year.

Maybe forever.

[“for awhile” was very nice of you.

Very diplomatic.]



I’m always @#$#%n nice

:([I think the last 8 dates I went on were like this, so i just don’t date anymore.

Last dude i was friends with for like 5 years and he still managed to pull one over on me.

Hooray, life.]



What it with the guys?

Is this just a thing?


[end scene]


~ dara.

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