I'd rather be single.

Since I officially became single (many, many months ago), my ever so helpful friends and closest confidantes gingerly expressed to me that perhaps I should give men a chance. This by no means indicated that I am a lesbian, it just meant that maybe, generally, I'm a little hostile when it comes to meeting guys. The following are the top three reasons (meaning I had to search within all my heinous incidents) why, why, I should always be a bitch, bear in mind, these incidents happened within the past 3 months:

Boy behind door number 3:
Recently I went on a date with a guy I met through a co-worker. I found him to be a little socially awkward and not really amusing at times, but, my roommates met him and said to give him a chance. After all, I am the only single person in my group of friends (officially). Here's how it panned out:

me: So do you have any roommates?
him: no, I own my own place. I live alone.
me: Oh that's pretty sweet.
*****
him: so I hope we can go out again
me: maybe next time i'll come to [insert his nearby orange county city]
him: *awkward pause* well, I don't know if you can do that
me: *puzzled* why?
him: because my ex girlfriend still lives with me (side note: this is ex girlfriend of 10 years).

Boy behind door number 2:
I used to frequent a comedy club called iO West in Hollywood. My partner in crime L. Miller and I love to watch our favorite team KDD perform there. One night, we went there to grab drinks and hang out. L. Miller, with the foresight to know when an annoying and possibly sketchy guy was about to advance, started talking to the bartender and sat down at the bar. In fall swoop, the guy she expertly avoided started talking to me. Here's how that conversation panned out:

him: so what do you do?

me: i'm a student

him: oh what are you studying?

me: law

him: oh like pre-law?

me: no, like THE law

him: *nudge* so will you be my attorney some day? *wink*

me: oh, you're really not my type of client

him: what would that be?

me: children.

him: *pause, gives me the "ick" look* wow, so you're not going to be rich at all are you?

me: *offended* um, no.

::awkward pause::

me: so what do you do?
him: oh, i'm an actor.


Last but definitely not least, boy behind door number 1:
Again, out with friends, this time in Santa Monica, CA, I met my all time favorite guy at a bar. (Sarcasm added.) I was sitting in a booth with two girls, one guy when this little scrawny white boy slid in the booth sitting himself right next to me:

him: hey there

me: um, hi

him: my name is Chris (as an FYI, I felt that if I censored the following information my readers would not get the full effect of the reasoning behind my initial irritation.)

me: (already irritated) ugh. i hate that name. where are you from?

him: Pittsburgh (of course, OF course)

me: ugh, i hate that city. in fact, i prefer not to talk to guys named Chris from Pittsburgh.

(for those readers who do not know, my ex boyfriend's name is Chris, from Pittsburgh)

him: well, my friends like to call me the jizzmaster.

me: excuse me? did you give yourself that name or did someone else...
::shoots look to girl across the way AND the guy sitting next to me who stare in disbelief::

him: no, my buddies (points over to the bar) call me the jizzmaster.

me: i dont even want to know. (he makes small talk to the other people at our table and then leaves to get more drunk)

***** (later on, he returns to the scene of the crime) *****

him: so i live three blocks away

me: so?

him: you wanna come over and watch a movie? no funny business i swear

me: you must be fucking joking

him: oh come on, i have catch phrase

me: sorry, i only put out for yahtzee.