BREAK IT DOWN:
So you know that song by Will Smith, Just the Two of Us. Well check out my updated post-ironic version. Hit it Maestro: Just the “three” of us we can make it if we try-ay. Just the three of us – you, I…. and your NEW GIRLFRIEND.
So…I’ve been the cause of this strange phenomenon lately where I meet a guy and THEN inspire him to find a girlfriend. There have been several instances and it’s always with a guy where there’s an element of chemistry but probably not much else. Like someone I would totally use for sex or a seasonal fling. Okay, I don’t mean that in a slutty way…or maybe I do because I’m in my sexual peak and my libido is corrupting my mind. Like, Fuck emotions! Who needs them when your sex is on fire.
What?! Men get away with thinking that way. Blame it on feminism and equal opportunity. I didn’t start the wave, but I’ve been forced to ride it. So take it like a man, Biatch!
Whit-chee! (as in sound of a whip). Besides, I’ve tried emotions and the only person who gets “fucked” (pun INtended) — is me. So “fuck” that.
Anyway…near sex experiences aside, I’m cool with being Cupid’s sidekick and inspiring love and all that jazz, but what I find a little puzzling is being introduced to z new girlfriend, like intentionally, in what seems like criminally pre-meditated.
What’s going on guys? Feels a little Woody Allen-esque, Vicky Cristina Barcelona style. Or are you just trying to make me jealous? Because all you’re accomplishing is implicating a third party and creating an awkward situation.
The first time this happened was with a guy I had an artistic trade-off with — I helped him write a short script in exchange for a couple of guitar lessons. There was a zing; a spark between us (I mean it could’ve been entirely art related). The point is he decided to bring his “newly acquired” girlfriend to the final lesson. Really?! It’s called private tuition for a reason. I mean he scheduled the lesson last minute, disrupted my day and then brought a girl. Unless I’m completely delusional, it seemed like an attempt to flaunt. As in, Surprise! I have a girlfriend now. Alrighty, what does that have to do with the G chord? (Pun UNintended — this time).
They’re all like subtle scenarios, but in each case it’s always a girl whose younger and sweeter than me. And I can see the fear in their eyes. I mean they can probably tell I’m in heat.
P.S. Don’t you wish your girlfriend was Hot Like Me (Thank-you Pussycat Dolls for contributing – totally unnecessary).
Seriously, I’m not into games or high school antics. So I find myself making this conscious effort to be extra nice to z girlfriend and dispel any myth that I’m a threat because (I’m a good person) I admit that I probably appear scary in an Angelina Jolie, “Get out of my way, Bitch!” sort of way. Geez, Thank God for Edward Cullen in Twilight providing a good example of using every ounce of your inner strength to suppress your dark side. Yep, fictional vampires have become my new role models these days. Really, that whole storyline is a metaphor for restraining from sex.
But, TAKE NOTE: Women in their thirties are dangerous, as I’m discovering. Don’t mess with us.
Then there’s the adverse scenario where the guy fails to mention he has a girlfriend and you spontaneously find out when she crashes the date you’re on and threatens to kick everyone’s ass. Suddenly there’s a chick yelling at you, “Who the fuck are you?” And Mr. Macho becomes a pile of goo, down on his knees in a prayer pose with his hands clasped, repeating, “I’m sorry babe,” or “It’s not what it looks like.”
Yeah, that’s happened to me in the past. We’re chilling out, watching, “Meet the Fockers,” when suddenly the moment is intercepted by the sound of smashing glass. Yep, z girlfriend busted the window with her bare fist so she could reach across and unlock the front door. Next moment, the guy’s in panic mode and he says, “You need to get out of here. She’s a black belt in Taekwondo.”Seriously, WTF Dude?! Thank-you for endangering my life ASSHOLE!
Without missing a beat, I race out at supersonic speed and skedaddle across the backyard to my car. As I’m reversing, the last image I see is the guy being thrown against the garage.
I try to avoid these situations. I really do. But somehow they find me. My most recent psycho girlfriend encounter was at lunch with a friend, well maybe not a friend, he’s known as the “creepy guy” from next door to where my actual friends live. Hey, it was a free meal and I wanted to pick his brain about something work related. He might be creepy, but he’s not stupid.
So this woman dressed in all black, leather jacket, kinda goth looking, but not in a cute way rather devil-like, appears out of nowhere. Its like she ascended from hell. I was relieved when she started screaming because while her lips were all pursed with that diabolical look in her eyes (all pupils, no irises), I thought she was going to pull out a 45 mm and shoot us. I’m pretty sure she would’ve kicked my ass, but I assured her I had below minus zero attraction to this man, who we refer to as the creep. Funnily enough, I had just mentioned it to him. Kind of saved his ass, as he kept repeating, “These girls don’t even like me. I’m the creepy guy. I’m the creepy guy.”
And. WOW. I couldn’t even make this up if I tried.
Afterwards, guys tend to try to justify these situations with, “We’re on the verge of a break-up.” Who knows and who cares because I’m done with threes. Unless I’m actually having a threesome with two other single people (yeah, my libido would love that), then please take note of the following plea that I’m issuing to the world: PLEASE please pLeAsE, for the love of Satan, stay away from me if you have a girlfriend…particularly one who is trained in martial arts. Thank-you.
Photo by stockimages.