elizaskinner.net – the jambox

It only took a few days to get a good email volley going back and forth with this guy. He was impressed with my knowledge of the Marvel cannon, and I was impressed that he got my jokes. Plus, as I said, smart, funny, model, blahblahblah. Our first date went from meeting for coffee after work to dinner to about 6 hours of walking all over the city. When my friend, Nate, made our pre-determined call to my cell - to give me an out in case this guy was a murderer - I practically threw my phone into traffic, as he said “Is that someone calling in case I’m a murderer?” We had dinner at a shitty Indian restaurant under twinkling red chili pepper lights, amazed by how much we liked each other. It was like a romantic comedy, you guys! He was right out of the movies! Everything was so perfect!

Except for goddamn Peggy and motherfucking Joan. I had sat around while Peggy and Joan spewed venom at cat lovers, burned holes in their clothes, and got their fingers and buttons stuck in each others snarled frosted hair. But I was not going to let them get their witchy claws into my perfect new relationship thatwilllastforeverandeverlikeArielandPrinceEricohmygodlet’sgettattoos! They were insistent though: “So, what are you going to do on your next date?”
“Oh, I think we’re going to Coney Island”
“Oh great, we’ll come too.”
“What?”
“Well, you met him because of us, so you have to let us home too.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do, don’t be rude.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’re being a bitch. We know where Coney Island is – you can’t stop us.”

I cancelled our trip to Coney Island.

Instead we went out for dinner in his neighborhood. He told me a horrible story about slaughtering a goat as a child and gave me a little monkey barette that he had gotten in Greece – he said he didn’t know who he had bought it for at the time, but now he knew. It was for me all along! It was more proof of our perfect perfectness! He also spent a long time teaching me to spell and pronounce his name, because, ya’ll? It was crazy. His name was like someone threw a party for all their letter friends who didn’t know each other, and each of them brought a date.

Myxlplx seemed fascinated and smitten by me, he kept murmuring how lucky we were to have found each other – on the street no less! But he was politely perturbed that I still wasn’t sleeping with him. I had decided that having sex with someone instantly did something to your brain that made you give a shit what they think of you, your friends, your favorite movies, everything – so you better be sure you like them. I didn’t want to end up caring about whether some loser likes my hair, or why he said that shit about Dirty Dancing.

Peggy and Joan had differing opinions on the subject - Joan thought I should fuck him, and Peggy thought she should fuck him. But they were both mad at me for cutting them out of the whole thing. Actually, Joan mostly seemed high, but Peggy was definitely angry. She started calling me at home to berate me about it, telling me I owed it to them to take them with me on our dates and that I was being unfair and bitchy. I stopped answering her calls, so she started leaving me alternately apologetic and vicious voicemails. I decided that it would be best if I quit volunteering, since this was now some Seriously Fucked Up Shit.

As much as I had been hearing from Peggy, though, I hadn’t heard from the guy since our last date, and it had been almost a week…

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 8th, 2009 at 5:25 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.