Monday, March 2, 2009


When you're locked in the trunk of a car with your date, waiting for the AAA guy to show up, a lot of questions occur to you. Not just basic questions, like, "How did I get here?" and "Am I wearing cute underwear in case the coroner does a full autopsy?" but also general questions like, "I wonder if this guy still likes me" or "Did I leave the oven on?" Things like that.

I'm not going to come full out and say that I got myself into that situation based on a dare...although I might admit that this whole thing started when I decided to finally prove Brooke wrong about what supposedly crappy taste I have in men. One minute I was defending the guy who accidentally punched me in the eye (he's recovering nicely, and thanks everyone who asked about him) and the next minute I was being asked out by a nice-but-strange-looking guy standing randomly in front of a construction site. And after I turn him down (hello, white suit?) then Brooke's all like, "You're into guys who treat you like shit," which was SO not fair or accurate, so I kind of had to go back and ask him out. And the date went kind of badly. Like, really badly. Like, he pointed a gun at my underwear. And then I think he went to a mall and shot a bunch of people (again, NOT my fault).

I'm beginning to realize that (and while I will be buried wearing Ugg boots and a mini-skirt printed with pink fuzzy unicorns before I admit that Brooke is correct about ANYTHING) Brooke might have a point that I need to reconsider my dating choices. I've been asked out by a lot of people, for whatever reason, and most I turned down, mainly because they seemed weird or didn't look interesting or were wearing a polo shirt. And the guys I didn't turn down? Well, sure, they were good for dinner and drinks, sometimes, but most of the time the guys I go out with turn out to be total...jerks. Who don't get me at all. In fact, oh cruel subterfuge, some don't ask me out while wearing polo shirts but show up to the DATE wearing polo shirts. That shit ain't cool.

So maybe I'm missing something here. Maybe I'm supposed to find out what was going on with all those other people that I didn't really give a chance. And then maybe I'll get to prove to Brooke that my taste in who I date doesn't really suck and is TOTALLY not my fault.

1 comment:

  1. Hmm...I don't know, Jody. I think it's okay to be picky.
    The alternative is certainly worse: desperate.
    I've been turned down so many times that when a girl says yes it's usually a relief.
    Of course, that's no reason to jump the gun (and from what it sounds like, you nearly *did* jump the gun...sorry, bad joke), since regret generally replaces my relief. Ah, well.