Pest Control

Today I had to wait around my apartment for the yearly spraying for pests. Living in a warm tropical climate, various insects are a common nuisance, so my landlord sends someone out once every spring to do a preventative spray. So I had to dip out early on lunch with Rocky to rush home to meet the pest guy.

And what a creeper! He comes in and I'm polite enough, but my apartment... is pretty trashed. I forgot how messy my room was, and quickly ran to stuff my laundry into various drawers, closet, anywhere. As the pest guy gets situated, he comments how "You were doing the same exact thing when I came here last year, sitting in the same exact spot with the laptop and the television, watching some silly soap opera." Which first and foremost, I don't watch silly soap operas. Ever. And second of all, creepy much?

I nervously chuckled and commented that this is the technological age of multitasking and kind of trailed off. I mean, what the fuck does he expect me to be doing. I had to sit around and wait for him to come to let him into my apartment. He's going to be spraying, so should I be baking a fresh batch of cookies to present to him? Should I have been in my full workout gear, sweating to the oldies? I don't think it's that ludicrous that I am relaxing on my couch with my computer and television, but maybe that's just me. Way to make an uncomfortable and creepy observation, Pest Control guy. Do you make comments like that to all of your customers, or just the young single women?

Then, he goes to spray in my spare room, which is jokingly referred to as my "office" or "art studio" but in actuality is just my junk room. And while in there quips, "This room hasn't changed much." What the fuck? Did he keep a dossier of my apartment to revisit in the most creepy manner possible? Save the personal comments and critiques for someone else. The entire process took less than ten minutes, but the ripple effects of emotional scarring will surely haunt me for much longer. As he left, his parting words were, "Okay, I'll leave you to your... laptop." I didn't even know how to respond. I sort of muttered a "Yeah, see ya." and promptly locked the door behind him.

It's one thing to attempt small talk to be personable, but everything that he said was borderlining on stalkeriffic and judgmental. Sorry I didn't tidy the place up for you, or engage in more stimulating activity for the ten minutes we see each other a year. That shit rubbed me the wrong way, and I'm so thankful that I won't have to deal with him for another year.

And strictly on principle, I plan to be in the same spot again next year, tooling around on my laptop and watching TV.

One last tumble in the Weeds

You would think that after the Trainwreck known as Super Bowl I would have washed my hands of Dandy completely. And if I were a sound person of logic, I would have. But, my emotions are my vulnerability as well as my willingness to fall for guys so easily got the best of me, as they always do.

At work I'd put up an icy front against Dandy. I figured that hateful glares combined with the silent treatment was my best course of action to follow. But it was hard. I'd really liked him, even though he was a druggie douche. Maybe it was more of a pride issue. I'd felt initially that I'd been "settling" with Dandy, and that I was out of his league, so despite the feelings I'd developed, it was almost embarrassing that I'd been dissed by someone whom I'd considered beneath me. Although I suppose that served as a wake-up call of sorts.

Slowly my hard exterior melted away until Dandy and I reached cordial terms. It was difficult to maintain an animosity when we worked so closely together and ran in the same social circles. Plus, for some reason, I've time and time again exhibited a weakness and vulnerability for the men who stomped on their hearts. Maybe I'm a masochist, but I tend to give multiple chances to men I'm emotionally connected to.

After a night at work, I went to our favorite dive bar, the scene of many of my past work-related sexual indiscretions, with my friends Wispy and Gay J. We laughed over cocktails and shots, singing to the likes of Eddie Money, when lo and behold, who should enter the bar but Dandy. My heart skipped a beat, as I hadn't expected to see him there. This was naive on my part as the bar was one of our favorite hangouts.

I was flanked by my two good friends, who were feeding into my ego, and building me up. I felt like I had the upper hand, I was looking fabulous, feeling good from all the cocktails, and Dandy was practically falling over himself flirting with me. In my mind, it was the perfect scenario. I was thinking that he realized how stupid he was to screw things up and wanted to make amends. I played it cool, and Gay J was my trusty sidekick, constantly chiming in to tell Dandy how hot and sexy I was and how utterly out of his league I was and how lucky he would be to go home with a girl like me.

The shots and cocktails were a-flowing throughout the rest of the night, and by last call I was sufficiently hammered. Definitely too drunk to drive. Never too drunk to fuck. Naturally I got Dandy to drive me home and with very little convincing, invited him to stay over. What are principles when there's a need to get laid? The next morning was like old times, nothing awkward, and we went back to get his car (he'd driven mine home) and that was that.

Apparently I learned nothing from the whole McRugby debacle. I was foolish enough to believe that things were turning out the way I wanted. That Dandy was finally cutting Fanga loose, and we were going to be together. Things went back to the way they were, he was full-on back with Fanga and we never spoke of that night after the bar. I guess he just wanted one last roll in the hay before returning to his girlfriend.

Hindsight is 20/20 and looking back on my whole "relationship" with Dandy, I went in with wholly unrealistic expectations. I romanticized our affair, and ignored the looming possibility that he was still with Fanga. But he was never 100% honest with me and I shouldn't blame myself for his lies, because I had no reason not to believe him. The irony of the situation was that I had truly believed that with Dandy I had found a nice, sweet guy. I'm starting to question whether or not such a thing exists...

My Attempt at a Harem

Lately, I've been thinking that the best option for me is to establish a harem of men. This way, I can draw from it whenever I'm in the mood for a certain guy.

I've been dating two guys: the Cowboy and the Busker.

I met the Cowboy on an online dating site. He went to college in a state known for its population of cowboys, so he has a total cowboy accent and loves to wear cowboy hats and boots and stuff like that, but not so much in the city here -- mostly in college.

I like him a lot. He's cute, and our conversation is AWESOME. He's a really cool guy, and I love hanging out with him and talking with him. He's great.

The only problem is that I'm not sure that I feel attracted enough to him. We have tons of friendship chemistry but don't have much physical chemistry, which is a complete 180 from the Hott Waiter.

His height is a huge reason. I'm just about the average height for an American woman. His online dating profile said that he was two inches shorter than me. I should have known that ANY guy would exaggerate his height. He's actually exactly my height. EXACTLY. Which is tough for me. I wish it wasn't this way, but it's how it is.

He's also a year younger than me, so that's unusual for me as well. He still lives at home, too (yikes!) but will be moving out in a few months.

Now, the second guy is the Busker.

I was at a popular cafe in my neighborhood a few weeks ago with Miranda when we saw this attractive redheaded guy. I don't usually think redheaded guys are hot, but THIS guy was! I asked him if he was in line, he said no, and he moved back. He was with a girl, but they didn't seem to be together.

I joked to Miranda that we should put out a "missed connection" on Craigslist for him. Long story short, I did, and a week later, he responded. He didn't know who I was, but he said that he was in the cafe all the time. We exchanged several emails, I asked him details about himself, and they all matched up.

He busks for a career -- he plays his guitar and sings around our city, particularly in my neighborhood and surrounding neighborhoods. He also teaches lessons and does gigs at local bars, but he's mainly a busker. Sexy!

I was planning on going to a local bar last week, I told him, and he mentioned out of the blue that actually, he was supposed to play music there on that night.

Miranda and I went. It was AWESOME because we knew who he was and he had NO idea who I was!! WE HELD THE POWER!!!!

He texted me, telling me to finally show myself!

And then it happened.

He took off his hat.

He is completely bald on top.

DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT.

Still, aside from that, he's very good-looking and I was attracted to him.

I went up to him at the very end of the night to talk to him. I had been drinking quite a bit.

Me: "Hi."
Busker: "Samantha?"

Perfect. He was thinking of me all night.

We talked for a while, and we said we could call, text, meet up, etc.

A week later -- a few hours ago! -- we got a cup of coffee.

He had his hat on. I'm definitely attracted to him. The problem? We only hung out for about 40 minutes, and STILL, tons of people came up to him because he's so well known in the area -- including two girls who TOTALLY hung all over him and flirted with me!

I tried to stay neutral, because nothing can be less attractive to a guy when you get jealous, but it's tough in that circumstance.

We ended things with a hug and plans to meet up again.

I'd just like to hook up with him on a regular basis, no strings attached, have him be one of the guys in my harem.

We'll see how it goes with both him and the Cowboy.