Is That A Swastika on Your Neck or Are You Just a Complete and Total Douche?
Remember the one about the guy who took me to dinner at Charlie Palmers? And remember how psyched I was to have pulled off a successful dinner date? And then remember how I haven't mentioned him in a week and I hooked up with somebody else over the weekend?
I suppose you're expecting an explanation. Sigh, fine.
I ran into said gentleman last week by accident. By which I mean, I was at a bar after Bocce Ball and he was there. I wanted to spend time with my new Bocce friends, but he and I got to talking. Actually, we got to arguing. When I found him it sort of looked like he was on a date, so I took pains to not talk to him for very long before going to see my friends. Because what else do you do when you see your crush throwing back beers with another woman and the situation is too new that any sort of exclusivity has been discussed or even desired? Right, you make polite conversation and you give them their space. So that's what I did.
But he eventually tracked me down and confronted me on my coldness. Apparently they weren't on a date. Apparently they're "just friends" and it was wrong of me not to shove my tongue down his throat in front of her. Fine, whatever. My fault as always.
Anyway, the conversation soon veered into a lecture about my jealousy and tendency to mistrust people and jump to the wrong conclusions. Ouch. Okay, point taken. I do all those things. I'm a woman and I don't have the best track record with men. I get it, I'm jaded and could stand to open my heart a little more. Fine, I'll work on that.
Blah, blah, blah. He starts rambling on about how "what you see is what you get" with him, how he was no secrets and can only date people who can deal with his honesty.
[Normally I consider that a good thing, by the way.]
But then...blah, blah, blah (delivered in a Scottish accent)...I have a swastika tattooed on my neck...
Um, say what?
Yeah...swastika...tattoo...Jews suck...blah, blah.
You know that my dad's whole side of the family is Jewish right?
Yeah, I know...swastika, openness, Jews suck...blah, blah.
Sometimes it's actually sort of refreshing when somebody gives you such an easy out of a messy situation. Our relationship was going nowhere anyway, so it was really for the best that I found out now that he's a complete and total white trash bigot jackoff. And as I was telling another blogger friend yesterday, it's better that he told me rather than having me find it by accident. I can't imagine anything killing the mood of a hot makeout session more than an ugly symbol of centuries old oppression inked on my partner's body.