"...sticky, alone, and without capital."
The summer after my Freshman year of college, I started running it back with a girl I kinda "dated" off an on in highschool, and a few times the year prior. She was a super-popular highschool girl, and we'd always had a really STRANGE relationship. She was probably the most awkward person I've met to date, even 4 years later. She was always fidgeting, was the Queen of the Awkward Silence, and had this nervous laugh that drove everyone who knew her fucking crazy. It's very hard to be pretty, popular, and awkward all at once, but this girl pretty much had a monopoly on that trifecta. For the sake of her anonymity, we'll call her Angela. Anyone who went to highschool- or college for that matter- with me will know who she is anyway, but it's best to maintain some superfiscial degree of plausible deniability.
Here's some brief background. I've written about most of this before in other arenas, so feel free to skip if you think you've heard this before. Or if you were present when it happened. Or if I've gotten all bombed on a Friday and told portions of this story to a crowd half-filled with cringing mutual acquaintances.
- For our first real date in highschool, she demanded I take her to a movie. She shot down all my suggestions and made me take her to see "The Others," that piece of crap movie starring Nicole Kidman. I ruined the movie for everyone when I pointed out that Nicole Kidman was obviously dead, and proceeded to fall asleep less than halfway through. She was furious, and when I denied that I'd been sleeping, she said that I was snoring softly. Whoops. She told me to call her again "when I decided I wanted to be a gentleman."
- Some time later, we were again on speaking terms. I was drunk at a party, standing around a keg talking to a bunch of mostly HER friends, and I started referring to her as "Meathocks" a nickname I gave her because, as an incredibly dedicated and gifted downhill skier, she had gigantic and muscular thighs. I then started joking about what it would be like to go down on her. "What if she squeezed her legs together? It'd be like poppin' the flower off the stem of a dandelion. Or like when Gallagher gets crazy with a Watermelon." This was complete with pantomines and some play acting. She found out (duh), confronted me (understandably furious), and didn't speak to me for some time. The nickname stuck, though.
- Throughout the following summer, we kinda dated. Among other things (some of which I will NOT be publishing here, due to the fact that I still might have a soul), I (a) forgot her birthday, which was very close to our 1 month anniversary, which I also forgot; (b) called her by her friend's name more than once in the same night while we were hooking up in her basement; (c) showed up to my own "special birthday dinner" drunk as a skunk when she explicitly told me not to, lied about it, then skipped out early because my friends were waiting in the parking lot to pick me up; (d) lied about not being a virgin, then slipped and gave myself away, making her so furious she finally stopped talking to me. Again. For like the 4th time.
Okay, so during Freshman year we tried dating a few times, but I kept screwing it up, she kept losing patience, and I repeatedly got tired of dealing with her crazy-chick schizo moodswingy bullshit. She implored me to give it one more shot the summer after Freshman year, and I really did care about her quite a bit, so I agreed readily.
Things were actually going great for once. She was living about an hour away, so we didn't spend TOO much time together, and when we were around each other it was pretty fun. Not too much pressure, not too serious. Just two hormonally charged 19-year olds enjoying their responsibility-free youths. Then she sent me this e-mail, out of the blue. It was a touchy-feely thing, telling me how much I meant to her, how glad she was that things were working out. She told me when she saw her roommate's loving relationship, she was happy because she imagined us at that point sometime down the road. It was kinda sappy, but I wasn't unhappy or anything. It's always nice to know somebody cares, and I wasn't wholly against a romantic relationship. I had to get to work, so I fired off a quick email in response:
"Ang-
Thanks for the email. I gotta run, but are you gonna be in town this weekend? Gimme a call, babes.
Wang"
Big. Mistake.
Right before my shift ended, she called me crying.
Her: "Please please please when you get home please don't read the email I sent you."
Me: "What?"
Her: "I was mad after I read your email and I sent you a response but I want to take it back so please don't read it it's not now I feel I'm sorry please I overreacted...."
And on and on. I told her to calm down, and the first thing I did when I got back was read the email.
"Dear Insensitive Jerk-
I sent you this beautiful email, pouring my heart out to you, and your response is to just say 'thanks?' You're such a jerk, like always. I thought we had a future together, but not if you keep blowing me off like that. I take back every thing I said, because you're evil. What, you just want to hook up with me? Is that it? I'm just some whore to you? I thought I was falling in love with you, but now I know I was falling in love with a fraud. That's all you are. You pretend to be this nice guy, but when I tell you what you mean to me, you just come right out and say that you want a booty call this weekend.
Don't call me,
Angie"
What. A psycho. I had no idea what to do, and since she was totally off base and crazy, I sent both emails- along with a synopsis of the whole situation- to one of my best friends and trusted advisors, Tenacious Grizz. The whole reason I am telling this boring story is so I can find a way to get Grizz's response into evidence. The final line of his email probably stands as one of the funniest things I've ever read. Grizz is a pretty conservative, standup guy. Not a huge partier, never one to treat a serious situation lightly, but here's his entire email, verbatim:
"Derek-
Wow, what a crazy bitch. I always knew she was a psycho, but this time she's just completely lost her mind. I could probably sit here and fill page after page with serious counsel, but you and I know it's not what you're looking for. It won't do any good. You wanna know what I think? What the only reasonable solution is?
Next time she's in town, pretend nothing's wrong. Then fuck her doggy style, knock her out with a blow to the head, come on her back, and steal her wallet. She will awake sticky, alone, and without capital.
Love,
T.Grizz"
When I read that, I laughed so hard I woke my entire family up, and had to make up a lame story for why I was doubled over on the floor, tears streaming down my face. "Sticky, alone, and without capital."
There's no better way to be.
Here's some brief background. I've written about most of this before in other arenas, so feel free to skip if you think you've heard this before. Or if you were present when it happened. Or if I've gotten all bombed on a Friday and told portions of this story to a crowd half-filled with cringing mutual acquaintances.
- For our first real date in highschool, she demanded I take her to a movie. She shot down all my suggestions and made me take her to see "The Others," that piece of crap movie starring Nicole Kidman. I ruined the movie for everyone when I pointed out that Nicole Kidman was obviously dead, and proceeded to fall asleep less than halfway through. She was furious, and when I denied that I'd been sleeping, she said that I was snoring softly. Whoops. She told me to call her again "when I decided I wanted to be a gentleman."
- Some time later, we were again on speaking terms. I was drunk at a party, standing around a keg talking to a bunch of mostly HER friends, and I started referring to her as "Meathocks" a nickname I gave her because, as an incredibly dedicated and gifted downhill skier, she had gigantic and muscular thighs. I then started joking about what it would be like to go down on her. "What if she squeezed her legs together? It'd be like poppin' the flower off the stem of a dandelion. Or like when Gallagher gets crazy with a Watermelon." This was complete with pantomines and some play acting. She found out (duh), confronted me (understandably furious), and didn't speak to me for some time. The nickname stuck, though.
- Throughout the following summer, we kinda dated. Among other things (some of which I will NOT be publishing here, due to the fact that I still might have a soul), I (a) forgot her birthday, which was very close to our 1 month anniversary, which I also forgot; (b) called her by her friend's name more than once in the same night while we were hooking up in her basement; (c) showed up to my own "special birthday dinner" drunk as a skunk when she explicitly told me not to, lied about it, then skipped out early because my friends were waiting in the parking lot to pick me up; (d) lied about not being a virgin, then slipped and gave myself away, making her so furious she finally stopped talking to me. Again. For like the 4th time.
Okay, so during Freshman year we tried dating a few times, but I kept screwing it up, she kept losing patience, and I repeatedly got tired of dealing with her crazy-chick schizo moodswingy bullshit. She implored me to give it one more shot the summer after Freshman year, and I really did care about her quite a bit, so I agreed readily.
Things were actually going great for once. She was living about an hour away, so we didn't spend TOO much time together, and when we were around each other it was pretty fun. Not too much pressure, not too serious. Just two hormonally charged 19-year olds enjoying their responsibility-free youths. Then she sent me this e-mail, out of the blue. It was a touchy-feely thing, telling me how much I meant to her, how glad she was that things were working out. She told me when she saw her roommate's loving relationship, she was happy because she imagined us at that point sometime down the road. It was kinda sappy, but I wasn't unhappy or anything. It's always nice to know somebody cares, and I wasn't wholly against a romantic relationship. I had to get to work, so I fired off a quick email in response:
"Ang-
Thanks for the email. I gotta run, but are you gonna be in town this weekend? Gimme a call, babes.
Wang"
Big. Mistake.
Right before my shift ended, she called me crying.
Her: "Please please please when you get home please don't read the email I sent you."
Me: "What?"
Her: "I was mad after I read your email and I sent you a response but I want to take it back so please don't read it it's not now I feel I'm sorry please I overreacted...."
And on and on. I told her to calm down, and the first thing I did when I got back was read the email.
"Dear Insensitive Jerk-
I sent you this beautiful email, pouring my heart out to you, and your response is to just say 'thanks?' You're such a jerk, like always. I thought we had a future together, but not if you keep blowing me off like that. I take back every thing I said, because you're evil. What, you just want to hook up with me? Is that it? I'm just some whore to you? I thought I was falling in love with you, but now I know I was falling in love with a fraud. That's all you are. You pretend to be this nice guy, but when I tell you what you mean to me, you just come right out and say that you want a booty call this weekend.
Don't call me,
Angie"
What. A psycho. I had no idea what to do, and since she was totally off base and crazy, I sent both emails- along with a synopsis of the whole situation- to one of my best friends and trusted advisors, Tenacious Grizz. The whole reason I am telling this boring story is so I can find a way to get Grizz's response into evidence. The final line of his email probably stands as one of the funniest things I've ever read. Grizz is a pretty conservative, standup guy. Not a huge partier, never one to treat a serious situation lightly, but here's his entire email, verbatim:
"Derek-
Wow, what a crazy bitch. I always knew she was a psycho, but this time she's just completely lost her mind. I could probably sit here and fill page after page with serious counsel, but you and I know it's not what you're looking for. It won't do any good. You wanna know what I think? What the only reasonable solution is?
Next time she's in town, pretend nothing's wrong. Then fuck her doggy style, knock her out with a blow to the head, come on her back, and steal her wallet. She will awake sticky, alone, and without capital.
Love,
T.Grizz"
When I read that, I laughed so hard I woke my entire family up, and had to make up a lame story for why I was doubled over on the floor, tears streaming down my face. "Sticky, alone, and without capital."
There's no better way to be.
posted by Derek at 8:41 AM
6 Comments:
Sometimes you have to put your foot down.
How the FUCK you tracked this place down, I'll never know...
Any other random people out there reading this that I don't know about? Anyone?
I think Tom was the one who forwarded it to me. I dunno where he found it. He's tom.
Well, Grizz, tell Tommy I say hi. John, too.
Hi to you, also, Grizz.
"'Sticky, broke, and alone' is Sam Kinnison complete with coming on her back and sneaking out a window."
And someone finally catches the reference. Not an easy one either!
My e-friends are smarter than me.
Actually, I googled that phrase a few years ago, and everything came together, especially when I remembered how big a Sam Kinnison fan you were. I thought the switch to "without capital," combined with your Grizzly persona, made it funny anyway.
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