My Life: The Comedy

So here's a story about three little pigs and not that stupid one with the wolf.

The first little piggy is a Jewish hairstylist-in-training with a belly button ring. He has a faux hawk and is very pretty/gay. I went to coffee with him and we got along great I even bought the book Running with Scissors upon his suggestion which is very good. We have a lot in common. We have great conversations.

I soon began to realize, that the first little piggy never initiated conversations with me so I decided to do a little test. I would not message the first little piggy again until he messaged me.

I have not spoken with him since.

Which takes us to the second little piggy I went on a date with. The second little piggy is an auditor who works about 60 hours a week, he's slightly portly, but is a great person all around. I was not attracted to the second little piggy but I thought I'd give it to shot because I haven't been on a date in awhile and I don't like to reject people outright. I started talking to the second little piggy on a Monday, we planned a date for Sunday, and on Friday he was already asking me if I wanted to be his boyfriend. By Sunday he was probably already picking a flower girl for our Commitment Ceremony.

It became clear on Sunday, when we met at a goofy diner in Charm City, that there was no chance that I would ever be attracted to him despite the fact he has all the qualities I am looking for in a man. The connection just wasn't there.

He later asked if I had a good time with him and I explained how I thought he is a great catch but not for me and tossed him back in the ocean. He was devastated and told me he's glad he didn't call his mother because he was going to tell her all about me!

I narrowly escaped the clutches of that clingy monster.

He still wants to be friends and is convinced I will eventually fall in love with him but there aren't enough psychotropic drugs in the free world to ever force that to happen. He has insisted we hang out this weekend and I've already built up a solid wall of excuses not to.

My hopes are that I can stall hanging out with him to the point he gets over me or at the very least says he's over me while in actuality he still touches himself to my MySpace profile.

Finally there is the third little piggy. He's a classically trained pianist studying at one of the most prestigious schools in the world, has kind of a beak on him but is still cute nonetheless. He told me I was cute too and that he wants to meet me for coffee.

Unfortunately this was after he revealed that his neighbor is his FUCK BUDDY and a few weeks ago he made out with a bar tender that he's in love with.

Tonight he tried to convince me to go a gay bar with him. When I said I couldn't he said I had to because his bar tender/fantasy boyfriend (who gave him his number last night) would be there. When I asked why I should care, he said that he would need someone to talk to while the bar tender is busy serving other people their drinks.

Now I'm not one to wish ill on someon-okay I totally am I hope he falls and breaks both of his wrists. Don't hit on people and then wax on about all the people you're sleeping with/wish you could date. Trying to make me jealous doesn't work it just makes me want to hit you with a bag of doorknobs.

It doesn't help that my coworker, who I finally got over, went and cut his long girlish hair and now looks too cute for me to ignore! And now that he's adorable he's found the man of his dreams who looks like an 80 year old munchkin though is only 2 years older than him. He just can't get enough of telling me how great this guy is either. I get to hear all about how they both were in seminary school and both grew up on farms and both like diet Coke and both sit when they take a crap gah I don't care! But I'm being nice nonetheless and wish them both the best even if I express that to him by pretending to vomit every time he mentions his name...

And so here I am once again, the loneliest number in the world. A part of me fears that I'm always going to be the funny sidekick, never the dashing hero who always gets the girl guy... and worst a small part of me is growing comfortable with that thought.

I will shrug that off though and persevere. My man is out there somewhere and no prince on a white stallion will be able to sweep him away because he only has eyes for me. Hopeless devotion, eternal love, some crap like that. Until then, losers prepare yourself. These boots were made for walking. I will date you and will dump you, until that day a very special kind of loser comes along... one that I'll go completely gaga for and he'll be Mine all mine forever. And then I can bother one of my friends with the details of our love life, like how we both enjoy drinking liquids ohmygodwehavesomuchincommon!!!!

And this little piggy won't go running home cryin' his blog about his boy troubles ever again.

Or at least they won't be getting a boy troubles.

2:^)