little white lies

Admit it, you have at least told a white lie every once in a while.  And hell, I'll be the first to admit it:  it's fun.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I won't lie about important things to important people.  That's just wrong.  But to tell white lies to complete strangers that you will probably never speak to again... maybe not so bad.

In the last couple of years, a hobby of mine has been ballroom dance.  I like to go to the social dances just to practice, have fun, and let loose after a long day of work.  It puts me in a good mood at the end of the night.

So one night several months ago, I went to the ballroom social dance.  A guy asked me to dance, I said yes, and we were out there having fun on the dance floor.  Good times.  However, that day I was particularly stressed from something about work, and it was just the LAST thing I wanted to think about.  However, my dance partner really couldn't take the hint.


Dance Partner:  How has your day been?

Sarcastical Girl:  Not too great, but it's much better now now that I am here dancing.  How about you (I get cut off)...

DP:  What do you do for work?

SC:  Oh, I just don't really want to talk about it, no offense.  Just really stressed about something.

DP:  It can't be THAT bad.

SC:  Well... (I'm fumbling for a way to shut down the conversation about my work).

DP:  C'mon I bet it's not bad.  What projects are you working on?

10 second pause

SC:  I work for the government.

DP:  Oh wow!  In which department?

SC:  I'm not classified to give much information on that.  It's a very high-risk project including transportation and safety but other than that I cannot reveal anything.  In fact, I may have to kill you for even telling you that much.

DP:  Oh man  - I wish I knew what you did!  That's so fascinating!  Do you work nearby?

SC:  I cannot disclose where I work.  Again, safety and privacy regulations.

DP:  Do you receive orders from Obama, himself?

SC:  My boss in the end is of course, Obama.  But the person ahead of me is much like Charlie in Charlie's Angels.  Just a voice with messages.  We talk on a secure private line and I just follow my instructions.  By this time, the dance was over, and I bowed to him saying thank you.  Thanks for the dance.  I walk away.


Now this guy was just stupidly gullible.  Nobody would believe that load of crap.  But apparently he DID, and it was fun being a super government spy even for 2 minutes.

I might have scared DP away, because I have never seen him at the ballroom social dance again.

Maybe I've struck gold:  come up with random crap to either lure people in, or turn people away.  Maybe the next time a creeper hits on me, I will tell him I am a tax auditor and ask him if he has kept all of his receipts.  At that point, he won't care about buying me a drink or getting me in my pants.  He'll be too busy panicking and sweating bullets.

Non-Wallet

When I was in high school, I only dated one guy named Chris.  He was truly a trooper.  We met in 9th grade, and his locker was next to my best friend's locker.  We would always exchange a smile, but never spoke a word to each other until the last day of 9th grade.  We had a 7 minute passing period between classes, and right as I was about to walk in the door for my last class, I heard my name shouted from behind me.  I turned around and Chris was right there.  He then asked me for my phone number "so we can keep in touch over the summer."  And because it was the last day of school, everyone had their yearbook on them.  So, I told him that he could have my number.  I literally wrote:  Sarcastical Girl:  555-5555 (for example).  I didn't say hi, nice knowin' you or anything.  And of course, we were both so awkward at 13, I literally handed him his yearbook back, and said "ok bye."

I didn't hear back from him for about 2 months.  He called me one afternoon, and since that phone call, we dated for about 4 years.  Go figure.  He was truly a wonderful dude.

Anywho, let's go to the real story.  In high school, both Chris and I were pretty busy.  We both had extra curricular activities in the fine arts, and had practice during and after school.  I also was busy every Saturday, and worked on Sundays.  So the only times we saw each other than inside the classrooms were on Saturday night dates.  Usually we went to the movies.  For both of us, we didn't get our license for a loooooong time, so our poor mothers had to shuttle us to and from the dates.  (sorry, mom).

Anywho, we usually decided to go to the movies because it was cheap (back in the day) and there was a Barnes and Nobles nearby.  We would definitely frequent B&N and be nerds and read books.  Trust me,  we were an old married couple at the age of 16.

Even though we dated for such a long ass time, we never had sex.  I know, the poor man.  Dating a chick for four years and she never gave it up.  I've talked to Chris several times about this after our breakup (years later) and he told me that he was SO stoked to have a girlfriend in high school, because that usually meant that you got laid, but since I never felt ready, he was like damn.  He hoped that SOMEDAY he would get to nail me.  Now people, he is not a perv.  He said this in a jokingly way.  And it's true!  Nowadays, people sleep together within their first several months of getting to know each other.  Giving up your v-card at a young age is NORMAL.  However, because I was paranoid of getting pregnant, as well as seeing my sister get her heart broken by the first guy she slept with, I was more than willing to wait.

So I was pretty much the most naive person ever when it came to sex or anything on the topic as a teen.  I knew everything about STDs and protection, but knew nothing about actual contact with a person of the opposite sex.  Some questions I often asked myself were:  Don't people get embarrassed?  How do you look your partner in the eye, after having sex?  Are you supposed to cuddle afterwards?  What if it hurts?  Should I act like it's not a big deal?  What if it hurts A LOT?  What if the condom breaks?  TRUST ME the questions went on and on.  For days.

My dating experience with Chris, were close to only kissing and hugging.  I was too afraid of getting preggers, so we were limited to major makeout sessions in the back row of movie theaters.  He was an EXCELLENT kisser, probably from much practice with me.  The poor man.

So one particular Saturday night, Chris and I went to a movie as normal.  We put the arm rest up and out of our way, so we could hold hands easily and snuggle.  Well, as we were holding hands, they somehow migrated to his right leg.  It took me a few seconds to think about it, so I whispered to Chris during the movie:

Sarcastical Girl:  Your wallet is in the way, can you take it out of your pocket?  Jesus Christ, what is it made of, metal???


Chris:  Ummm I can't move it.  It's my....non....wallet.....

Sarastical Girl's Inside Thoughts:  HOLY HELL, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.  I AM SO EMBARRASSED.  GOOD THING THIS ROOM IS DARK, MY FACE IS GETTING HOT.


Chris had the most majorest hardest boner I have ever seen,well felt, to this day.  And it's a damn shame we never had sex, especially since he was packin.

Another little gem of a story that completes me.

He REALLY wanted to get in my pants.

Several years before I met my main squeeze Sam, I flirted with the idea of casually dating a guy I knew for a while named Mitch.  

Mitch definitely did not fit the type of dude I have dated in the past.  He had a ton of tattoos and piercings, was definitely the most masculine man I have ever met, and was also a smoker.  Looking back, I shouldn't have been interested, solely because of the smoking.  Now I won't go anywhere NEAR a smoker.  No offense, it's not that I hate who you are or anything.  It's just a stinky horrible unhealthy habit that makes me want to vomit.  Mitch was also within one of our military branches - again, not my typical date.

I've known him for about 5 years before we started seeing each other romantically, so I thought well, at least there will be no surprises.  I was a dumb-ass to make that assumption.

He asked me to go on a date with him, and to meet some of his buddies.  I said sure, no problem.  After all, we were going to a bonfire at the beach and make smores.  I'm already sold, I don't even need Mitch there to have a good time.

When we get to the beach, I realize that it's a Christian youth group type of meeting.  They all had their guitars, and were singing songs about our good ol' Jesus.  Well, Mitch has known all along that I don't have a religion and that I don't really like to partake in church-y type of things.  So I was a bit surprised that he invited me to meet his friends at this type of event.  Three hours later, the songs were still coming, the prayer group were still prayin', and there were no smores.  It was getting dark and cold, so I told Mitch it was time to take me home.

He asked if I had a good time.  I said, well you know I'm not religious and it was hard sitting there acting like I am engaged in this type of event so I was uncomfortable.  He clearly thought he could recruit me in this beach bonfire event.  There have better damn well be smores if I'm going to consider Jesus as my lord.  

Now don't get me wrong.  I think there are amazing things and traditions within all religions which I think are interesting and valid.  However,  I just don't have that level of faith or interest in the matter.

I decide to give Mitch one more shot, as far as dating goes.  He said he promised, no shenanigans this time, he was going to take me out to dinner.  I said, that sounds good and to pick me up at 6pm.  

I was really tired that day, and needed a serious nap before going out to dinner.  So I set my alarm for 5:15 to pull it together before he comes and picks me up at 6pm.

He shows up to my door at 5:45, and my old roommate opens the door letting him in.  He then decides to come to my room and knock on the door and let me know that he's here (and early).  I was kinda pissed - let your lady take her time.  Don't rush her!  Not sexy...

So I told him that I was getting dressed and that I needed a few minutes before heading out.  He decides to just let himself in my room anyway.  Luckily I was wearing a shirt already, but I was in my thong with my jeans on the floor.  I was finishing up my makeup, and my jeans & shoes were going to be the last thing on before walking out to see him.

He busts open the door, sees my jeans on the floor.  Mind you, he could have cared less that I am in a lacey thong with mascara in hand...  Mitch then says:  "Sarcastical girl, can I try on your pants?  We look like the same size.  I just want to see if they fit."

Mitch then strips down to ugly-ass boxers mind you, and puts on my jeans.  Uhhhhh what?

We never made it to dinner.  I just said it wasn't gonna work out, and that he needed to give my back my jeans immediately.  

We haven't talked since...