Sometimes you just gotta do it

Jesus, this no car thing has been killing me.  This past weekend, alone, I had 3 encounters that could’ve gone somewhere if only I had a god damn car.  Don’t confuse my cursing various deities to think that I find having a car a disadvantage.  If I could make a list of pro’s and con’s, the pro’s would sprawl across pages and pages, while the con’s would only have one item: social life.

I’m gonna have to break down and buy one.  I used to have a dreadful car, but a car nonetheless.  We had some great memories.  There was that time that my first girlfriend and I sat in the driveway of her parents house, making out, and having oral sex while listening to Canadian Folk Punkers The Weakerthans.  Or with my last girlfriend, all those times that my car would break down in the middle of a fight, leaving us stranded wanting to kill each other.  And the many times that I got head parked or while driving.

But it died.  What else could you expect?  I would change the oil only when the oil light came on.  I barely ever had enough money to take care of it.  There were many many cases of vandalism on it.  It was definitely not loved.

I did see opportunity, though.  When the thing died I knew I had a choice to make.  I could either go and drown myself in debt while I bought or leased a car that I could definitely not afford, or I could suck it up, ride the bus and Metrorail, and pay off the credit card debt that was choking my wallet.

I took the high road.

On Friday I get a call from Peace, and she tells me, “oh I’m going out to this jazz club on the beach, I would like for you to join me.”  This girl is cool.  She’s also attractive as hell, and I’m really not sure if she wants to bone or not, but either way she has cute friends, she’s a cute girl, and she likes friggin jazz music!

Of coruse I have to play it cool, “I’ll see if I can make it out there, I’m probably gonna be hanging with friends though.” 

Strike one.

There was the girl that I wrote about in the last post, Sarcastic Shit-Test Girl.  She finds it absolutely outrageous that I’m telling her that she needs to drive 40 minutes to see me.  My god.  Anyway, I send her a txt, “Well anyway it was cool chatting with you, i really like your sense of humor.  Keep in touch, and if we can get this travel thing figured out ever that would be cool.”  Which she responded to positively, because I was being genuine.  But I’m still without sex.

Strike two.

On Sunday I wake up and check my okcupid account (have I ever mentioned how much I like this site?  It’s free and it’s about 10 times more effective than a site like match.com).  I have an message and it says, “hey, I really like what you do.  If you want we could hang out and get a beer at some point.”

Let me make a side “game” note.  I guess it can deal with appropriateness, but I would like to think it also has to deal with setting a precedence.  This girl wrote me, and not only that she asked me out.  In comparison to Sarcastic Shit-Test Girl, who I wrote and set up a bit of a “chase” atmosphere, this girl is saying “I am attracted to you.”  So rather than going into any conversation needing to be funny, avoid questions, pass shit-tests, etc, I go into it being completely normal.  As Nonex says, “don’t make it more difficult than you have to.”

So I write back and tell the girl, “hey, thanks, you’re pretty cool too.  I’m hanging out with friends until 6, but call me after that and we can go to a bar together.”  There’s no need to play anything. 

This actually reminds me of a story that Seba told me.  He was in a bar with some friends, and this girl kept giving him Approach Invitations.  He eventually motioned for her to get away from her friends.  She got up, walked over to the bathroom, he followed her, walked over, kissed her a little bit, got her phone number, hung out with her two days later, and fucked her.  It really was that simple.

Anyway, she’s down.  She is totally down.  Problem?  She doesn’t have a car.  “Oh can you pick me up?”  She asks.  No.  No, I can’t damn you!  Don’t you realize how fucking frustrating this is for me.

By the way, really funny line I said to her while we were talking.  She has a bit of a LSE moment with me, telling me that she’s gained some weight since the pictures that I’ve seen, how she’s gone from a size 2 to a size 5 to a size 8.  I tell her, “well, I won’t honestly be able to judge how attracted I am to you until I see you naked, and have like 2 inches of my penis inside you.  It’s the only way I can really tell.”  I am honestly am amazed that these are the things that come out of my mouth within the first 10 minutes of talking to girls.

Either way… Strike 3.

So that’s it.  My penis can not handle it anymore.  Time to bite the bullet and get a car.