Socially Awkward

Day 18, January 28
1. 20 minutes of meditating. I think.
2. 90 minutes of working out.
3. I wrote that last post.
4. Not much TV. Enough to find out about the weather. I actually listened to music.
5. Did some box tetrissing…and tidying…in anticipation of my houseguest. Brought up my old portfolios. They’ll be garbage soon.
6. Socializing: A friend came by for a few hours and we hung out. Jamye arrived and we went to dinner with her parents. Then we ventured into Brooklyn for a birthday party, where elegant people in fancy dresses and designer shirts acted like grownups. I felt uncomfortable and awkward. I don’t think I’m normal.

Okay, I know I’m not normal. I have a soft spot in my heart for the bizarre and the broken. A passion for difficult people. Most of my friends are far from what anyone might call “easy” in any sense of the word. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that in addition to attracting the weirdos, I have what seems like infinite patience with them. My friend Karen says, “You’re a writer! You can’t help but keep the conversation going!” Indeed. I egg people on, encourage them, hoping they’ll eventually”come around,” not in the “sane” definition but more as in “come to a realization.” I don’t just do it for this blog, though it may seem like I do. But when I wind up in a long-winded dialogue with someone it often makes for high hilarity.

Here’s an encounter I had on OKCupid that began back in November. We made a date. He was late. He got lost on the subway and came up to call for directions. Twice. He gave up on the subway and jumped in a cab. He called, still blocks from the destination, and jumped in another cab. When he texted “I’m here” I asked, “Where?” His response? “In front of the bar.” Which wasn’t the case because I was in front of the bar. The guy clearly has a problem with directions.

The date wasn’t a total disaster. But it wasn’t a match made in heaven, either. I figured we could be friends. It appeared he could use one.  After our date, he began emailing and texting me.

Dec. 1
Nobody truely understands me. 
That’s what all the freaks say!
Yes but I am pretty sure that you dont either
If you say so.
Considering yourself as “misunderstood” is a choice.
I kinda just did
Up to you!
Not sure if you noticed by I didn’t fuck anyone else, either.
True
And to be honest, sorry for stupid drunk texting. I just dont know anthything. I only hope you dont fuckin hate me
I don’t. Seriously. You’ve found just the right person. (people)
Spins cant read
FWD:About to head out. I come back Sunday night. I will ping you then.
Ok! Safe travels!

Over the next 48 hours he sent a whole slew of texts and emails, “including but not limited to” [HAH! These dashes indicate separate emails or texts.]:

Dec. 2
You are HOT!

Dec. 3
You have to tell me why you picked a dating site called Senior People Meet. I am sorry but I find that fucking hilarious, you are anything but senior!
————–
You have to tell me why you picked a dating site called Senior People Meet. I am sorry but I find that fucking hilarious, you are anything but senior!
————–
If you keep going on dates with these guys from Senior People Meet, you are going to get an email from a 10 year old kid about how you killed his grampa!
————–
Have fun tomorrow, interesting reading your blog tonight.

At 9am the next Sunday, after I spent one helluva fuckin’ drunk Saturday on the SantaCon walk-through, I received another text. Yup, 9am on Sunday. I responded:
Okay, please stop texting me.
Ok
————–
You could have said something earlier, your not as honest and direct as you say you are!
I’m saying it now because you woke me up. 15 texts in one day is too much. That’s honest and direct.
Sorry!
I told you to text me when you were back in town, not all day every day. We barely know each other.
True
And now we never will.
Up to you.
Maybe I should wait to read about myself in your blog, before making a decision on that.
Well the more you push it the more likely that will be. I’ve offered my friendship. You’re pushing my boundaries. I’ve politely asked you to stop pushing. You can choose to be offended.
I am not offended. I am not even sure I really care enough to feel anything.
Then WHY are you still texting me? Sheesh. Thanks for starting MY day off with an argument.
Sorry, I did not start this argument. I acted stupidly.
————–
I am definitely not the party who is offended.
————–
Have a nice day!
——————-
Sorry.
————–
Wouldn’t have been easier just to fucking ignore me, roll over and go back to sleep?
Are you seriously gunning to be a topic of my blog? Or would you rather be my friend? It is YOUR choice.
It isn’t a question of ignoring. When the chime chimes, I hear it. I’m SO sorry I didn’t mute my phone…
WHY, if you don’t mind my asking, are you being so aggressive about this? If you were my friend, I would’ve said the same thing. Give it a rest. If you “don’t care” WHY are you still harping about this?
We can be friends. FRIENDS. And NO ONE I KNOW texts me 15 times a day.
The ball is in your court. Either continue this “debate” or get a grip and act like a friend.
A
Not really gunning to be a topic of your ridicule. I am agressive about everything, probably my biggest asset and flaw. I doubt I would be working in NYC if I was not agressive. I am probably just bored at the moment. My father is also an attorney, so I grew up with argument as a form of communication. Your a good writer, something I am surely not, I do not know why you waste your talent and time on some of the things you do.
B
————–
Sorry, if that last bit was rude, it is YOUR time to do with what you want.
————–
The question for me is, do you want me as a friend or just another of your many acquaintances?
————–
Don’t worry your not the only person I have managed to fucking piss off today? Is Mercury still in retrograde?
————–
Yes I could use a friend  

Dec. 4
I guess your not intersted.
God forbid I should be busy with, you know, all my acquaintances.
Ok you want to grab a beer I am buying. Just landed Newark.
I’m iny pajamas. Yesterday did me in.
OK 😦
————–
Iny pajamas it must have! 

Dec. 5
I apologize!
Thank you. And if you don’t mind my saying so, it seems that you must find yourself apologizing a lot.
Why are you texting and emailing me so often? Are you bored? Lonely? On the receiving end it is very odd.
Just curious.
Right now, I am busy…but usually just bored.
You must not be all that busy if you responded within a minute.
A word of advice: never contact a woman you’ve just met more that once or twice within 24 hours of meeting her, or within each 24 hour period.
I hear what your are saying.
Excellent. Here is a friendly challenge: don’t text or email me again till tomorrow after 12 noon!
And that includes an “okay” response to this email!

Believe it or not, I saw this guy again. He came by Double Down when I was working the door, the night before I left for Christmas in California, and we chatted for hours. Since then we’ve been occasionally emailing and texting, trying to arrange another meet-up. Until tonight. When he pushed my boundaries — again! — and I asked him to stop — again! — and he freaked out. AGAIN! He started on OKCupid:

Jan. 29
Hi!
Hi!
[In a new email, separate thread.] How are you?
Good. Why are you emailing me on here?
Old bad habits.
[Switching to texting.]
Jan. 30 12:06am
Maybe we can grab some beers this week.
Okay, at this hour? Better to use okcupid.
Jeez!
[Switching back to email, using Gmail this time.]
Jeez who pissed on your parade!
————– 
Crabby Abby!
Look.
We are hardly even friends at this point. We’ve spent, what, a few
hours together?
You often try my patience.
PLEASE don’t text me unless we have plans and you’re late. Or
whatever. I keep weird hours. You’ve woken me up on more than one
occasion.
Just use THIS email address. Not OKC.
If you think I’m bring crabby, that’s fine.
I’m just trying to communicate my boundaries.
Do you understand?
What an ass

What an ass, indeed. And so it ends. With him getting what appeared to be his wish: to become the topic of my blog. Okay, dude, YOU WIN! The sad thing is, this guy could definitely have used a friend. He even said so. I think I’m a pretty good friend. I’ve invited him to do all sorts of things, which you’d think would be welcome to someone who works in Manhattan four or five days a week, then flies home to New Mexico every weekend. That’s right, New Mexico. What a lonely way to live. Beyond merely needing a friend here, he is what many might call “socially awkward” — “many” including the often equally socially awkward burners who met him at happy hour. My guess would be he doesn’t have many friends, either here or in New Mexico. I would also bet that he had a tough childhood. Now he gets to be “right” about people treating him poorly. Is that any way to go through life? Angry and alone?

You may be thinking I’m angry and alone. That isn’t the case. I vent my anger here often. But I’m not perpetually angry. And I am alone only when I choose to be. I feel very fortunate to live such a blessed life. Which may be why, in all my “abnormality,” I have the patience to coddle people like this. And why, instead of finding this hilarious, it just makes me sad. : (

Day 19, January 29
1. 20 minutes of meditating. In bed. Okay, you’re right. I was just trying to fall back asleep.
2. Didn’t have time to work out.
3. Writing? I’m sitting here now, writing this. Just wrote that. I think this — and that — are taking up too much of my time!
4. No TV, just a movie.
5. Nothin’. Dusty portfolios taunt me!
6. Socializing: While sitting around waiting to be shot on video talking about orgasms, I suppose I socialized a little bit. Mostly it was subway riding and movie watching with Miss Jamye. So, uh, all day, in other words.