I take it back.

I take it all back.

I don't want Blue-tie Guy to call anymore (which he hasn't, the bastard - but that's the ego and the pride speaking there). I don't want to deal with the drama of a divorced guy.

En fait, I don't want to hear from any guy for at least the next three weeks. When I move back to Boston, this ban will be lifted. But until then, I don't want to hear from the male gender at all.

I forgot that I had decided that the rest of the summer, after fuckwit and I broke up, was a time for me to remember how great life is sans male company. Because it so is. It had been a long while, after all, since I've been single - 2 years. Actually, summer of 2001 was spent with fuckwit, the following school year with a whole string of different guys, and then back to fuckwit. And before all of that it was random dates and flings and what-have-yous. Not that I'm one of those girls who needs to be dating to make me feel like a complete person - rather, I enjoy seeing how far and how high I can make guys jump. It really is a hobby. But anyway, so really, it's been more like since freshman year of college that I've been completely and utterly guy-free.

So July and August were to be rededicated to doing things for me and to hanging out with friends. Without men. A return to a more innocent time, of my years in an all-girl's school, where we were blissfully innocent, not aware of the havoc the male gender can wreak on a young girl's sanity. Luckily, the majority of my adoring male throng is located on the East Coast and points beyond, so it was going to be easy.

Now after the tizzy of the weekend, I've decided to return to my original plan. No guys. Not for the current moment. I never thought I'd say those words - but saying them I am.

What - or who - brings this all on, you ask? Remember my mention of Comedy Guy? That's who. The Monday after his party, I received the following email:

Delightful seeing you Friday, thanks for coming! Now I intend to take you up on your promise to recommend a fine local restaurant. Are you free Weds. night?

Sure, it could be a harmless email, but I had it checked out by a slew of people I know and trust, and they all said, no, don't be delusional, he's asking you out on a date, especially given past history of him having an unrequited crush on you. So I hemmed and hawed, considered going out to dinner with him but not until I had figured out some way to let him know that it was Only As Friends, as I am SO NOT interested in him. Let's emphasise that NOT. I wasn't interested in him freshman year, I'm not interested in him now. Things will NEVER change. Not to mention the fact that I can never talk to him for more than 8 minutes at a time before I run out of conversation. And that's what I'm scared of the most in the entire world - running out of things to talk about. What would I do for a whole dinner? Truth be it, I'd rather sit at home alone on a weekend night rather than go out with him. (Coincidentally, my horoscope - I'm a Virgo - agrees with me.) So I wrote back:

Thanks for inviting me (and everyone else) to your party! It was nice to catch up, albeit briefly. Oh, by the way, thanks for sending blue tie guy over to talk; it was great fun. I would love to go to dinner on Wednesday - it's always fun to have friends with whom to dine out in LA - but unfortunately I already have plans. I'd tentatively ask about some time this weekend, except for the fact that it's the countdown to my friend's wedding and we bridesmaids are being kept on a very tight leash for the next couple of weeks - but perhaps she'll allow me a breather. Who knows. She actually is bridezilla incarnate.

You know. Very nice and polite, and not discounting friendship - but doesn't it read No I Am Not Going To Go To Dinner With You Anytime In The Near Future? That's the message I meant it to convey, at least, sugar-coated because there's no reason to burn bridges. I enjoy his parties. I meet interesting people there. They're just not him. Of course, his being of the male species and all, he sooooo did not get this:

Yes, did Tie Guy and your friend hit it off? The only things I know about him are that he's recently divorced and wears a tie constantly. But I hope I was able to help her?

As for you, this is completely unacceptable. You're being held like an indentured servant! Please tell me this bride's name and I'll report her to Amnesty International, and you and I will dine. If necessary I'm prepared to operate a commando operation myself. I'll expect to have a restaurant, date, and time from you posthaste.

Holy Mother of Idon'tknowwhat - he didn't get it. Or at least he pretended not to get it. Sure, it's flattering, but you know that saying, "don't beat a dead horse"? It applies here! I wanted desperately to write back, "Funny you ask that about Tie Guy - actually, he ended up taking my number," but I decided to hold off responding for awhile. Then! Instead of letting me make the next move - let's beat the dead horse further! Comedy Guy IMed me at work! It went along the lines of this:

Him: The bridesmaid thing is unacceptable. You gave me lavish promises of restaurant recommendations, which, since I eat Baja Fresh three nights a week, was tantalizing.
Him: How about Thursday?

I'm sorry. I gave him recommendations, I did not say I was going to go with him. Plus I was drunk, and when I'm drunk I'm really friendly. And didn't I already politely turn him down? Obviously he was going to need something stronger than the mere polite brush-off. So, I had to pull out the imaginary quasi-boyfriend.

Me: I'm sorry, I'm going down to Newport Beach that day to see this guy I'm dating.

Yes, a blatant lie, but he doesn't have to know that. (And yes, I decided to pretend that Cute British Guy was in CA because if Comedy Guy was going to press for details, at least I wouldn't have to outright make stuff up). You'd think that'd do it. HAH! We forget that Comedy Guy went to That School In Cambridge* where they are woefully inept at male-female interactions and prefer to focus only on the goal and bulldoze their way there, rather than using tact and circumspection and knowing when to retreat as necessary. Maybe this characteristic enables you to rule the world, but it isn't necessarily going to get you girls.

Him: Well, tell him that if he's a gentleman, he'll let you off that night so you can entertain me.

What Part Of No Did He Not Understand? So I had to be blunt and say:

Me: I'm sorry, I've already made plans with him.

Conversation was summarily ended, much to my relief.

But after this entire exchange, I realise that my pulse was pounding with indignation over the fact that he didn't understand matters, that I WAS TYPING IN ALL CAPS TO MY FRIENDS TO EMPHASIZE THE DIRENESS OF THIS SITUATION and basically, that I was stressing myself out. Over what? Over a guy. Over someone with the XY chromosome who does not deserve such an output of effort on my part.

My summer was supposed to be stress-free. The only way to do that is to cut out guys. So that's what I shall do. I'm cutting them out.**


*Why the hell am I going there again? It's not going to be a pretty year for dating, that's for sure. Hopefully, this ineptness is only found amongst the undergraduate population. One can dream.
**I know, I know, famous last words. It has been kindly pointed out to me that pre-fuckwit, I used to say these words every 6 weeks. But goshdarnit, this time I'm certainly going to try.