Now about a million years ago I was in high school. And when I was in high school, there were two types of boys that were interested in me:
1.) the Doting Boyfriends
2.) Uncle Pervy’s.
Somehow, the Doting Boyfriends are a rather dull sort to discuss, so I am going to share a story of the first Uncle Pervy: Dave. Dave I later realized also was in love with one of my other best friends, Kristin.
Dave was a kid who rode my bus my freshmen year in high school. I, being the type of person that I was before I grew big balls, was admittedly a bit creeped out by his black trench-coat and Not-Quite-Cool-But-Trying-To-Be T-shirts and black stonewashed jeans, but I was nice to him. He was the sort that the Offspring later wrote a song about; he’d wear a shirt that would say Heavy Metal, but would list the ELEMENTS.
Several steps shy of cool. Significant steps, sure, but at the time I was too nice.
And because I was several steps away from having a realistic world view, I gave him my number when he asked. You’ll see this as a running problem in future Uncle Pervy stories.
He began calling me, but as a freshman I talked on the phone ALL THE TIME. Hours and hours and hours a day spent blabbering nothings into the phone. Conversation would be forced and would follow a repeatable pattern; ‘œHi’¦.(no introduction), what are you doing?’¦..(dead silence)’¦..wanna be my girlfriend?’ Because I had a bazillion friends, sooner rather than later I’d get another call, so I’d be excused from talking to Dave.
And not call him back. Ever.
So he’d diligently call, day after day, uncaring that I had a long term boyfriend and wasn’t interested in getting another, less stable one, and I’d get him off the phone with vague excuses of waxing my cat, a waiting phone call, a dead grandmother. Eventually, he realized my totally transparent plan and would refuse to say goodbye to me on the phone, which would stall me for a few more minutes, because although I was shallow as a puddle of mud, I was also raised to not hang up on people.
Pretty soon, even the rudeness of having to hang up on someone who wouldn’t say goodbye to me was worn as smoothly as a second skin. I felt no remorse, no guilt, no feelings aside from annoyance.
Dave, being desperate and lonely realized that he had to change tactics if he was to capture my attentions. So he started to threaten that if I wouldn’t date him/talk to him, he’d kill himself. KILL HIMSELF. This was the same person who, when Kurt Cobain killed himself, tried to carve Kurt on his arm, but couldn’t quite work up the balls to cut himself, so he just wrote it with a pen. Daily. So, I knew he’d never have the balls to go through with anything actually dangerous. Dave was just dramatic and maladjusted.
I drew the line with his antics when he would threaten to WALK OVER TO MY HOUSE. I had no desire to hang with him, and I had even LESS desire to have him come to my house where people might see him and think we were friends.
Dave finally went away once I started to encourage his suicidal behavior and made it painfully clear that I had no desire to date him. How did I shake such an annoying suitor? Well, it took at least 6 months of constant hanging up on him whenever he called for him to cease and desist.
I learned later he left me alone only to stalk my dear friend Kristin.
So dish. I need some good pathetic dating stories to entertain me. Because I’m all “Come on INTERNET! Dance, monkey, DANCE.”