I must have a little spring in my step because all of a sudden, everyone is on my ass. Hey! You in the back! Stop giggling! These things have happened to me in the last three days.
Inappropriate Ask-Out Situation #1: The Painter
A painter working in my building asked me if I needed any painting done in my house. I said that my bathroom door fell off the hinge and I just need that fixed. He offered to do it and came to my house Saturday and fixed the door while I was in pre-date warmup for my evening with CL#4NewJersey.
Velvet: Thanks so much for fixing this. What do I owe you?
Painter: Why don’t you cook me dinner?
Velvet: Uh, I don’t cook. Why don’t I just give you some money?
Painter: Don’t worry about it.
Velvet: Come on, you bought the stuff to fix this, you have to let me give you something.
Painter: Ok. Ten bucks.
Velvet thinks: Sold! To the Handyman in my apartment with the giant belly!
By the way, tonight I made a delicious Minestrone soup, and I ate it alone. It was good. Last week I made seafood pasta in sherry cream sauce. But uh, yeah. I don’t cook.
Snark aside, why did I force the money on him? This is very important, pay attention foolish women who mooch favors from men by batting eyelashes: Once I paid for services rendered with the American Dollar, he could no longer feel as if I “owed” him something, i.e. a dinner that I didn’t want to have. Never accept a free favor from a person who you don’t want anything to do with. It was tacky of him to ask me out since I basically hired him to work for me. But it would be more tacky of me to not give him anything for the work, then avoid his advances.
Inappropriate Ask-Out Situation #2: Phil Hartman Reincarnated
Walking the dogs Sunday night. A man is standing on the sidewalk about 100 feet ahead of me. He turned around, spied me coming toward him and waited. He had that “I’m lost” look on his face. And here we go.
Phil Hartman’s Ghost: Can you tell me where the Dupont Market is?
Velvet: It’s on 18th Street, make a left up here. and a right on 18th.
PHG: What about a library? A real quiet one?
Velvet: I have no idea. Are you looking for a place with internet access or a true library?
PHG (acting if I just offered him Anthrax:) Oh NOO!!! I don’t want a place with internet.(Believe me, at this point, I knew I was in trouble and was happy I had left my wallet at home.)
Velvet: I’m sorry, I don’t know. There might be one down 17th Street.
PHG: Is it quiet?
Velvet: I really couldn’t tell you. I’m not even positive it exists.
PHG: So, dinner at your place or mine?
Velvet: (uncomfortably laughing and happy we are approaching dog park. Also happy that someone in the park has already called out to me “Hey Velvet! I had a dream about you last night.” I mean, really, could that have gone ANY better for me?)
PHG: Ok, where’s the market again?
There’s a lesson to be learned here as well. I think it might be “Don’t talk to strangers,” but I’m willing to hear everyone else’s opinons.
Inappropriate Non-Ask-Out Situation #3
Enter The Bartender, stage left. I got a message from him saying that he needed to talk to someone. I called him back and he told me that he really liked this girl and he was screwing up all over the place. He couldn’t manage to give her space, and he kept calling her or something. Ok. Two things. First, clearly, I’m no better off because I really like CL#4NewJersey and I have no idea what I’m doing. Second, why the FUCK are you calling a girl you used to date for advice? I know we’re cool and all, but not that cool. That’s just a little weird. But, it gets weirder. I have to temporarily violate my rule of not talking about sex, because this is just too good.
I get a text message from the bartender asking me the following: “What date did we have sex?” Huh? I wrote back and said, “Is this a trick question?” He called me and said he thinks it was the 14th of October or whatever. Since I don’t have diary to consult, I can’t exactly confirm this.
Velvet: I’m sorry, why are you asking me this? I have no freaking idea. I don’t keep it written down anywhere.
The Bartender: Well I’m getting serious with that girl and I want to get all my ducks in a row, so I’m getting tested.
Velvet: Do you find any of your recent calls to me mildly insulting to me?
The Bartender: What? I just asked you a question.
Velvet: Yeah, and it’s ridiculous for you to be asking me for advice on another girl and even more ridiculous that you are asking me when we had sex. Christ.
The Bartender: I don’t get it.
Velvet: You know, anything you say to me is subject to end up on the blog.
Look, you just can’t make this stuff up.
Everyone needs some ettiquette lessons, evidently.
1/17/2006 09:19:02 PM
Re: the handyman, I’ve been there. I had to hide checks in my contractor’s toolbox — I mean really hide them — to get him to take my money. And one time he was coming over after hours to fix something and he said, “If it gets really late, are you going to let me spend the night?” Yeah, very uncomfortable. He still has the keys to my place. Ick.
Re: the bartender, be flattered that he values your advice so much, and that there truly are no hard feelings on his end. He thinks you’re all-knowing and he respects you. That’s better than playing games, right?
1/17/2006 11:10:14 PM
1. Alwayswrite: ew. That’s unnerving.
2. Velvet, thank you for being an independent woman and having the sense to not get yourself indebted to that tacky man. Ugh. I heart you.
3. The “lost” guy: use your most gutteral voice and tell him you’re a pre-op transsexual but you’ve been taking hormones.
4. Bartender: nice that he respects you enough to ask your advice, but what a dolt for not seeing the insult in asking you when you had sex so that he can get tested (read, bartender: implying that Velvet is not clean). Or the taboo practice of asking an ex about other women. You just don’t do that.
Truth is oft times stranger than fiction. You really can’t make some of this stuff up.
1/17/2006 11:45:11 PM
Remind me to tell you of my strange ask out/dessert offer when I see you.
Interesting couple of days. I’m never leaving town again… Okay, that’s a lie, but I do love your stories.
1/18/2006 12:55:44 AM
Oh – I’ve got a story for you… I was heading back to my room after running on the treadmill last night, wearing a large t-shirt and leggings. I got in the elevator with this old Yemeni guy, who pushed the button for the same floor as me. When he asked (I assume) what floor I was on, and I indicated the second floor – he asked what room I was in. As if I would tell him. Because clearly, since I’m a Western woman, I must be a whore.
This is why I can’t wait to get home.
Oh – and I had an ex- send me an email about some woman, and in said e-mail it became very clear that he’d been trying to get in her pants since way before we broke up. He then proceeded to tell me all the things he wanted to do to her, and said he’d keep me posted.
Needless to say, that ended our “let’s try to be friends” phase.
1/18/2006 12:56:46 AM
I asked ipod if you liked length or girth and it said Spies by Coldplay.
Which means absolutely ?? to me. 😐
1/18/2006 07:06:24 AM
wow is all i have to say for all three of those stories. that’s so creepy that man on the street tried to pick you up, and good for you for not leaving yourself in an ‘I owe you’ situation with the painter. and i’m glad you stood up to the bartender about what a weird place it puts you in when he asks you advice like that. I’ve had that happen with an ex before and it’s no fun. There’s only so much of a ‘friend’ you can be with someone you used to date.
1/18/2006 01:19:34 PM
You have to pitch a sit-com to the networks. This is all fabulous.
Velvet in Dupont…Tuesday nights on Fox.
Am I wrong to picture the Bartender as Jack from Cheers?
1/18/2006 02:04:50 PM
DC Cookie said…
You should have asked Bartender… “so, how many women have you slept with?”
1/18/2006 02:32:04 PM
from the BARTENDER
In all honesty . . .you didn’t even remember the date we had sex on so dont make it sound like I’m some sort of ASShole. Besides, we only went on ONE date and YOU broke it off before YOU could open up to me. I’ve always been there when you ask (fixing yr motorcycle)but it’s different cuz I have a problem. I’m not upset but WHAT A LOAD.
1/18/2006 03:41:34 PM
from the BARTENDER
DC Cookie >30 <40
1/18/2006 03:43:37 PM
Bartender: What the hell wrong is with you? Who can recall a calendar date from 3 months ago? ("Oh yes...it was October 22." Shit, I don't even remember last week.
Keep posting asshole comments and I'll either delete them or turn off the auto posting and I'll have to approve all the comments.
I didn't ask you to fix the motorcycle. You offered. And then pulled the clutch cable, it sprung a leak and cost me $200 plus I bought you lunch. So keep patting yourself on the back. Good job.
1/18/2006 03:56:28 PM
It was NOT an asshole comment but then again it's not my blog so YOU can make of it as you will. BTW if I cause a leak then why didn't it leak as I was fixing it. It mysteriously started leaking AFTER I put the hose back in ??????
1/18/2006 04:10:41 PM
Get off my blog. Don't come back.
1/18/2006 04:23:01 PM
I was going to say that I think this is the Bartender's ploy for more attn, as he so obviously was proud to know you and be on your blog and in (sorta) your life...but after seeing all this, that can't possibly be true.
1/18/2006 04:27:01 PM
What hose is he talking about leaking?
1/18/2006 04:28:03 PM
Plus the hose came off the gastank so there is no way it was the clutch. After 'helping' you out, I went home and looked up diagrams for yr Sportster online to make sure what I did was copacetic. I had a link but cant find it now, I'll email it to you if you like.
I thanked you for lunch then and I will thank you again now.
1/18/2006 04:30:31 PM
I will oblige yr wishes VELVET and say no more.
1/18/2006 04:31:44 PM
Battery in my motorcycle went dead. Harley dealer said I would have to remove the battery to charge it. That turned out to be false, but, when we first started to attempt to take the battery out, he yanked a cable and ended up holding it in his hand. The next day it leaked clutch fluid the size of a dead body under my bike. It had to be towed to Gaithersburg ($2/mile plus flat fee $75) Harley said they have never seen that happen before, so they replaced the hose. And since they have "never seen it before," it wasn't covered under warranty and I had to pay for that too. And I took him to lunch, before I knew all this. Wouldn't have even written about it, but since the baby brought it up...
1/18/2006 04:34:06 PM
Yes. Please stop talking. I told you this would end up on my blog, and I'm a woman of my word. So, here it is.
1/18/2006 04:37:19 PM
Wow! This is like watching watching a soap opera...except that it can be watched by heterosexual males.
Good call on the payment thing. If you didn't pay him, he will either come back to bug you or assume you are a using bitch who flirts to get stuff for free.
This whole bartender exchange has me wondering if I should continue to tell people I know about my blog.
1/18/2006 04:52:46 PM
I suggest *not* telling them, actually. From my experience, the really sneaky ones may find out without your permission.
VELVET! SO. MUCH. DRAMA.
At least you'll have something fun to talk about at the blogger happy hour. Take pics for me (even if they are mental).
1/18/2006 05:11:37 PM
I once had a creepy pizza guy experience. This old, lech-y looking guy delivered pizza to my door - the actual door of my apt, not my building - and then it took forever to get him to leave. He kept telling me I looked like some girl he was in love with in high school, when she was 15, she broke his heart, yadda yadda, STANDING IN MY DOORWAY and being all creepy-like. I finally got him to go and never ordered from that place again. The whole in-your-apartment thing is creepy.
1/18/2006 09:49:42 PM
All my exes live in Texas.
The rest of em I had to kill.
1/19/2006 12:44:01 PM
OMG... How fucking hilarious is the bartender guy? I was POSITIVE that someone was TyPING like that just to PRETEND to be him. I can't BELIEVE it was ACTUALLY him. And that he writes like that!! LMAO!!
And also, WTF Velvet? Is this a dating blog or not? You totally shoulda been all over both those guys who asked you out. Think of the blog entry they'd have given you!
1/19/2006 04:23:14 PM
Crazy Girl City said...
Ah the disclaimer!
Velvet: You know, anything you say to me is subject to end up on the blog.
1/19/2006 04:30:16 PM
Washington Cube said...
And you wonder if you should talk to strangers. This stuff is gold. Of course, talk to them. I always do. I get the most amazing stories out of strangers.
My creepy pizza guy story. I was out in isolation on Cape Cod and ordered a pizza delivery...something I NEVER do...I rarely eat pizza. Anyway, out to the dunes comes this kid (teens) and he starts making comments like "Don't you have a dog?" and "You sure are alone out here aren't you?" I wanted to kick myself for ever being that damn dumb, and trust me, when I am there...NEVER again have I or will I call for an at home delivery. Dumb, dumb, dumbdiddy dumb dumb.
1/19/2006 08:09:37 PM
This reminded me of the fact that at least half a dozen guys I dated married the next person they dated after me. I started to feel like the warm-up act! There is something about the Bartender that is sort of appealing in an odd way... and as I recall, he does have nice hair.
1/19/2006 09:07:31 PM
Jo - Come on! Even Velvet has her standards. A handyman with a belly that big - ugh! A psychotic on the street? This ain't Michigan. Weeeze in the big city here.
Cube - I know, you love to talk to strangers. The difference is, you get good stories, I get freaks.
Barbara - There's nothing appealing about a man calling you in the middle of the night, mumbling drunken nonsense that you can't understand anyway, and he uses the excuse that his tongue is too big for his mouth. Please.
Uh, no x-rated comments on that last tongue statement.
1/19/2006 11:58:13 PM