The post high-school dating history, MY post high-school dating history was not so much barren as it was...spotty. I took a couple of years off before I went to college, and since I had a good job, I spent quite a bit of time hanging out in bars, drinking, playing pool, etc. Living in a college town, there were plenty of dating opportunities--video store girl, much-too-horny girl, known-her-since-she-was-eight girl--but none of them seemed to last too long. There's no mystery about it, mind you. It was all my fault. Now, I'm not some ladies man, but for some reason, these girls always seemed to like me a little too much a little too fast. Indeed, it was probably because I'm not a ladies man; I'm just a nice guy. (Okay, everybody: Awwwwww)Whatever the reason, it was always too much, too soon for me, and I pushed these girls away. And believe me, over the years, I've beat my head against the wall many times, wondering what the hell I was thinking. They were very nice girls, and I know (now) I was lucky they were even interested.
There were a few of the other kind, too. Not so nice. The most bizarre of which...Well, I'll just tell the story. I'm standing in one of my usual dives (the term 'dive' is accurate here) watching a pool game, waiting my turn. Next to me, out of the corner of my eye, I see a woman--obviously drunk and somewhat homely. The reason I notice her is that instead of standing straight up like the rest of us, she's making little clockwise circles, like one of those inflatable punching clowns after you've whacked it a couple of times.
She leans into me, and in a loud whisper that smells of booze and cigarettes says "It's my birthday." Polite fellow that I am, I offer the obligatory "Happy birthday." What followed was a little-too-long dramatic pause before she hit me with it. "You can fuck me if you want." I nodded at her solemnly, and said "I'll keep that in mind."
I went home alone. But I digress.
As far as the dating goes, it seemed like I was always the one doing the breaking-up, and for a while there, I think I actually became pretty good at it. The girl would generally leave with no hard feelings, maybe even thinking "you know...He's right." On occasion, I even managed some physical contact immediately after the break up. I don't know, maybe that happens all the time, but I remember thinking "Huh...how'd this happen?"
I should stop here for a moment and point out that although it might not seem it, I did have some scruples. For example, I never cheated on a girlfriend. Never did; never will. I have, however, been the "other man" a couple of times. I see no problem with that. I'm not cheating on anyone, and if she decides to cheat...Well, that's her thing.
Anyway...Where were we? Oh yeah...The college years. Subtitle? "Payback's a bitch." But seeing as the new semester is starting, you'll have to wait for the next post.