Heck, if you're like me, you even get the joy of not being solicited for dates all the time. Some girls might lament that no one likes them and they're worthless; I'm not one of them. I know for a fact that if I actually wanted to, I could probably get a boyfriend. He wouldn't be the cream of the crop, but he'd exist. Maybe I'd get lucky and he'd have a sexy (English/Irish/Scottish) accent, too, and be exactly the right height with perfect hair and a love for wordsmithing. The biggest reason that I am perpetually single is that I choose to be.
Unfortunately, this has problems of its own. Aside from having to deal with the rare occasion when part of you insists that one of your guy friends has exactly the sense of humor you want to date, there's also the fact that you suffer from an extreme lack of experience. That's bad enough on its own; combine it with being socially awkward and slightly paranoid, and you get one thing: someone who freaks out the moment someone shows even the remotest interest in them romantically. In other words, you get me.
I could cite several points in my life where I've reacted badly to being asked out - one being when I shot a guy down without a seconds' thought in sophomore year (admittedly, he was a jerk and used to pick on me for liking Pokemon, so my reaction was not unwarranted). But I think I'll stick with the most recent example of why I'm perpetually single.
Yesterday afternoon, I get a message on facebook from a guy who's friends with a few of my friends. I'm immediately suspicious of him, because I don't even know the guy, and here he is talking at me, but I push that aside long enough to see what he wants. It seems innocent enough to start with. Heck, I'm even flattered, because he calls me pretty.
But then I get the horrible feeling that he's beating around the bush about what he wants. He asks questions that can only point to one thing: this jerkoff wants to ask me out or something ridiculous like that. Admittedly, asking me if I'm single (it's right there on me profile, why ask?) wasn't very subtle. My answer, "Single and loving every minute of it," was a not-so-subtle hint that, obviously, I am not interested. It wasn't that I wasn't interested in him (not entirely, at least,), it was that I am currently so very opposed to the idea of pairing up, even in the event that I get a chance at a guy I'm already interested in (except David Tennant. I would tap that without a second thought, given the chance). But, apparently, he didn't actually believe me, or something, because he kept inching toward making a point.
What's important is not how I proceeded, so much as what was happening on my end of the internet. I was freaking the fuck out. Panicking, even. I was a rabbit being chased by a cougar, and god dammit I couldn't remember where I'd buried my ak-47. I was consulting a few of my guy friends, because they were there and I can talk to them about this stuff. I just didn't know what to do with myself.
The obvious remedy for this problem, of course, is to do one of the following: (a) create a fake boyfriend so that, in the future, I can use him as a repellent, (b) Move to a remote location where I am literally the only person for ten miles and buy everything I need off the internet and adopt forty cats to fill the gap in my heart where intelligent conversation used to be, or (c) stab any
On a purely coincidentally related note, Books of Adam put a post up earlier this week that I find entirely too easy to relate to after yesterday. Lucky him. He gets free, unsolicited publicity as a result. If you like laughing, you'll like Books of Adam, trust me, I'm a Doctor (Who fan).
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