I’d like to
think I’m a pretty good judge of character.
A spattering of good friends and bad experiences in my 29 years has
contributed towards that.
But
recently, as you may have read; I’ve been less than useless at seeing things
for how they actually are.
Case
studies to support this:
- Date with a commitment phobic
whom I didn’t think was a commitment phobic (!)
- Date with a guy I didn’t realise
was a date (Yes. I am that stupid)
And lastly….the
following huge human error which I really should have foreseen.
I’m calling
it the friend zone trick, and it goes a little something like this:
An old
school friend got back in touch a few weeks ago. He’s back in the area – would I care to meet up for a good ol’ chinwag and a cuppa coffee?
Of course I’m
not going to say no. For 1) I like to
think I’m polite in my old age, and 2) He was a good friend once upon a
time. A little school-day-reminiscing-over-coffee
as adults is something I love to do (mainly due to my weirdly good memory!).
So I’m sat
in Starbucks with my fluffy pink Xmas hat on, being told I look like a ‘nordic Christmas elf’ by a suspicious
looking fellow across from me, when he
walks in.
To protect
his giant ego, I’ll refer to him as Rod
(Rod is a name reminiscent of a pervy guy with a motive, I think. Apologies to any Rod’s whom may be reading
and are perfectly lovely and without agenda).
It all
starts off as usual. “You look nice. How have you been” etc etc. I’m not seeing any warning signs as we get
re-acquainted after 4 years.
Then he
suddenly gets my back up by uttering my least favourite sentence EVER. So I’m telling him about my Christmas plans,
and how excited I am about the big day, and he leans over, pulls off my lovely
warm pink santa hat and goes “Don’t care
for Christmas. I don’t get the big
deal. It’s just another day.”
Appalled
and hat-less, I decide that I have had quite enough of bah-humbug men this side
of December, and launch into an attack on his hatred of my favourite time of
year (bar Summer).
Our
argument was along the lines of:
Me: “I love that warm fuzzy feeling I get when I’m
walking in the cold and see Christmas lights”
Him: “But
why do you celebrate Christmas? You can
get that feeling every day of the year.”
Me: “I know, and I try to create little moments
of warm fuzziness every day anyway (he so hasn’t read my blog!) but Christmas is one time of year everyone (well
everyone apart from you and the other humbugs I met) universally feel the same
way. People are politer, friends want
to catch up for winter drinks” blah blah
(I throw out all of my usual examples, but alas, he is having none of it).”
Him: “I bet
you have a Christmas jumper to go with that daft hat….”
Me: “Yes, I have two actually and aiming for a 3rd
this weekend. In fact (just to rile
him further) I’m sewing decorations onto
my jumper, and bells…lots of bells, so I literally am Christmas!”
Him: (Scoffs) “that’s ridiculous. You’ll
have to send me a picture and give me a good laugh.”
At this
point I just gave up. But the anger that
I felt was palpable. I felt like a crusader of Christmas. Defending the rights of all the people out
there who LOVE Christmas.
Rod,
sensing my annoyance, swiftly changes the subject to relationships. Oh goody, I think. Something I know nothing about!
It’s at
this exact point I start to realise he may have an ulterior motive to this last
minute ‘catch up.’
There were
signs. Gaudy flashing red light signs
(and not the Christmas light type!).
Signs a guy (well, a guy like Rod) wants to
take you out of the friend zone:
- He tells you he misses the
companionship of a relationship AND describes how he’D treat a girl if he
was with her (I’m not talking vague conceptual stuff, I’m talking graphic
DVD nights, bottles of wine, snuggles- the whole shebang)
- He says you look really pretty
(even though you don’t really, to be honest)
- He tries to maintain eye
contact even when walking away from you (Seriously, this guy had a remarkable
knack of turning his neck 180 degrees.
He was like a bloody barn owl).
- You attempt to leave a myriad
of ways and he refutes them all:
“I’ve gotta go, I have
some shopping to do.” – Most men would take that hint if it’s said enough times, but not the Rod’s
of this world: “Oh, I’ll tag along with
you!” (Even though he was arguing
only minutes ago how much he hated shopping!)
- He tries to tag along with you
whilst you dive into Primark.
- You eventually get rid of him
by using the least believable excuse uttered by anyone ever: “I’m
sorry, but I get really nervous when I shop with another person. I like to just be alone while I browse…helps
me keep a clear head with the whole decision making process, otherwise I
get buyers remorse.”
Yes…this
actually worked! Maybe he just didn’t
understand what I was saying, blowing his brain with basic level marketing
speak!
Before I
forget, the very last (but most crucial) sign a guy like Rod is interested is
thus:
As you
watch them walk out (and, weirdly, they watch you; with their boneless neck
swivelling round like a horror movie) suddenly everything feels safe again.
You
probably relax a little, but no sooner has he left, neck and all, that you
reach for your phone to be faced with a ‘goodbye’
text. (How did he send a text so quickly? Maybe he wrote it out before you met?!)
And even
though you know you gave them 10% at most of your full potential as a human
being, they rave about having ‘an amazing
time and would love to do it again at the weekend!’
I have only
one reply to that:
“If that’s what you a good time, then it’s no
wonder you’ve set yourself up for a miserable Christmas! Yours respectfully – Christmas Crusader.”
Till next
time
Scarlett
xoxo
very nice post Mrs Moon x
ReplyDeleteHaha! Love this!
ReplyDeleteBah humbug to him. Looks like you dodged the bullet with this one!
Muhahaha! Like you were going to get on well after the whole insulting Christmas business!! I once had a date so terrible and the guy insisted on making sure I got on the bus home that he missed his train and because I couldn't stand him being near me I jumped on the first bus that wasn't even going in my direction.
ReplyDelete