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Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Playa Haters Ball

I’m not sure if anyone else is aware of the hip new trend sweeping the 18-25 year old male demographic, but I’ve made it my personal responsibility to make sure everyone is as up-to-date on the current events of our generation and this one’s a doozy. Don’t get left in the dark!

Now maybe I’m just downright special, but the frequency with which this new craze has occurred in my life over the past four months or so is simply amazing. Really, I have no idea how one girl could be so blessed. I’m referring, of course, to the number of guys who hit on me and/or ask me out WHILE THEY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. Not only is this a major insult to my intelligence as well as my social circle, but with the advent of Facebook, I could receive a lobotomy from Michael J. Fox and still be fully aware of the fact that both the poor oblivious girlfriend and I are getting played.

Below are my favorite instances of this laughable behavior. Names have been creatively modified to protect the egos of the borderline retarded. Nice try, boys.


We’ll start with who I guess could be considered the most innocent of the group. Not really, but after being called out he admitted his faults and I’m assuming has kept his little buddy pointed solely at his girlfriend ever since. Happy Almost One Year, you two! I think you’re gonna make it! I met Dancing Machine at a Thunder over Louisville party this past April. Very nice guy, we chatted for a little and danced up a storm. He had to leave, so he asked for my number and told me he had a great time talking to me.
I’ll be damned if within the next 24 hours I hadn’t received 3 texts assuring me, “I’m not a creeper,” a friend request, and a message in my inbox again stating what a fun time he had with me. DM was apparently not aware that unless you make such things private, the phrase “In a Relationship” stands out quiiiite a bit amid such blatant flirtation. I immediately stopped replying, showed his Facebook to my friends, laughed about his stupidity, and carried on with my life.
Well.
The next weekend rolls around, he shows up to the bar I’m at. Through some undeserved spell of confidence, he sends the text: “What up girl” (oh, woo me) to which I respond, “Not much, might wanna go home and ask your girlfriend the same thing.” Aw shit. Dancing Machine tries to backtrack and explain but I’m not having any of it, and calmly advise him to just go home and be with her because ain’t no dancing be happenin tonight with me, girl. He left soon after with his tail between his legs, and has avoided eye contact ever since.

I have to hand it to Frat Pro, he really had me going for a while. We’ve known of one another for a little over a year, and when we started shooting the breeze about how our timing was always off with each other, I thought things were actually off to a decent start. I received drunk texts all through Spring Break, as well as sober messages asking when we could hang out, which we did for about two and a half weeks. He’s a cute guy, my type to a T, and I was pleased.
Then finals week rolls around, and I’m sitting off in a corner of the library so I can procrastinate without the judgmental eyes of the kids that actually have to study, when up on my newsfeed pops “Frat Pro is now in a relationship.” I search my memory to see if I missed anything in our recent hang-out seshes, because god knows I was definitely not in the market for commitment. Nope, all clear. So I sit back and decide to see if the situation is some kind of elaborate joke.
Two days go by, relationship is still going strong, so I shoot him this eloquent text: “Is this girlfriend thing legit?” After what seems like forever, he confirms it, to which I reply, “Well played, sir.” “It’s not like that,” he says. Oh, it’s not like you’ve been hanging out with at least two different girls over the past three weeks, one of whom is still completely unaware of it and is now stuck with a conniving douche for a boyfriend? My mistake. I basically told him not to try to pull off something like that ever again and we went our separate ways.
I will report that two months later they are no longer in a relationship, so she can go back to being the perfectly sweet girl I’m sure she was and he can go back to wearing Croakies and holding onto the memory of his once great body.

I have known Receding Hairline since my freshman year. I believe the nickname we gave him then was Faux Hawk because of his hot ‘do, which only amplified his already massive sex appeal. It goes without saying that times have changed. It sucked when he got a girlfriend spring semester of that year, but alas, we moved on, and unfortunately for her they entered the comfort stage way too quickly and now he lives as one of the top 5 inspirations for my previous post Fat Bottomed Boys.
But I digress.
Every time I’ve seen RH in my college career, be it while getting food or in the library, he’s been super friendly and juuuust teeter-tottering on the brink of flirting. Then you hand him a beer, and all of a sudden, the see-saw catapults him to full-on mackin and I calmly remove myself from the situation. Most recently, I pregamed with a few friends at his house. He was already drunk when we got there, best evidenced by the “Daaamn. Hey Skylar,” that I received upon walking up the steps. I caught a few more awkwardly forward glances being shot my way before we decided to leave. Thought of it somewhat, just because A) his girlfriend was nowhere in sight and B) they were going on their 3-year anniversary, but nothing to worry about.
The next day, one of my friends (who was not very familiar with him or his behavior) asked me what I thought about him, kind of like one of those notes you’d pass during social studies in 6th grade. Apparently, he thought I was “lookin good” that night and wanted to get hooked up. Yes, this is the affect Tiger Woods has had on young men. I immediately told my friend that he had a girlfriend and regardless of whether or not he dropped her or dropped a few, it was evident that he was a major asshole and could spend the rest of his life perfecting the art of the combover. It should be noted that Receding Hairline and Frat Pro are in the same fraternity. I’ll let you make your own conclusions.

Now New Years Kiss is an interesting situation. He doesn’t go to school with me, so after we met last summer, our contact has been limited pretty much to the random school excursion and occasionally on breaks.
I initially thought he was just your typical college guy (nothing spectacular in any direction), so I took everything he said with a grain of salt, and whenever we found out we’d be in close proximity and I received the, “So when can we chill?” texts I just brushed it all off. He never struck me as the relationship type, so when I found out that he up and got a girlfriend a few months ago, I was pretty surprised. Still, more power to him, she is very pretty and I heard through the grapevine that he had been after her for a little while so it was all gravy. That is, until I received a message the other day asking when we’d see each other again.
I’ve been the third wheel more in my life than is socially acceptable, so my confusion about this comment was laid on pretty thick. “Well my girlfriend’s not here all summer and won’t be here much next semester so I dunno…” Yeah, “I dunno” either buddy, but it sounds like you should break up with her and try doing things with a clear conscience instead of creeping around her back while she’s out of town. If the movie Old School taught us anything, it’s that true love is hard to find; sometimes you think you have true love and then you catch the early flight home from San Diego and a couple of nude people jump out of your bathroom blindfolded like a goddamn magic show ready to double team your girlfriend. I’m not saying this is anything like that, I just happen to enjoy that quote, but the point is, keeping me on the backburner whenever you get lonely is not the way to my heart. A bag of Milk Chocolate M&M's is. And the only thing that New Years Kiss has in common with that one true love o’ mine is that neither has nuts.

I make jokes about being a homewrecker and when I see a cute boy with a girlfriend, the phrase “Challenge accepted” definitely crosses my mind, but at the end of the day I respect people’s relationships.
Boys: stop putting me in an awkward situation, because your girlfriend will blame ME for your indiscretion long before she starts punishing you with withheld sex, and even then you all are still together while I’m labeled as a manipulative whore. Keep it in your pants, keep your eyes on your girl, and be thankful that I haven’t outed any of you. If it happens one more time, you’re all screwed. Spread the word.

4 comments:

  1. you are a little tooo full of yourself... probably shouldn't have posted this on betches

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  2. Being too full of yourself is the lifeblood of Betches. I'd rather be a little self-righteous than a pushover :) Regardless, thanks for taking the time to read!

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  3. I thoroughly enjoyed this, and am glad to say that I found this through Betches. Well done :) -P

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  4. Thanks girl! Keep reading, my life only gets more profoundly ridiculous.

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