The Most Annoying Question in The Dating World

There are a lot of annoying questions that get asked in the dating world. However, I would say the most annoying questions is: Why are you still single?

As if there’s a simple answer! Allow me to try and explain why this question gets me worked up. In some instances, it would seem the man asking is attempting to pay me a compliment. Case in point, I received a text message just minutes ago from a man I started talking to on the weekend. It read, “So how is someone with that amazing smile still single? Or is that by design?” I know, you’re probably thinking to yourself, he’s just being nice, he doesn’t mean anything by it. And he actually IS paying you a compliment. I know. And that’s why I deleted my original response to him for a simpler, “I’m single because I’m single.” But what I actually wanted to do was call him a jackass and tell him to never ask that question ever again. Why? Let me rant on and tell you why.

Complimenting something you like about my appearance while following up with a question about my relationship status makes me feel like you think that’s the reason someone should want me. This man knows absolutely nothing about me. He is attracted to me. He’s seen me at McNally’s a few times, has been too shy/intimidated to actually approach me, and so he messaged me on pof. That’s ok. But we have had minimal conversation up to this point. He doesn’t know that in addition to having a great smile I’m also hilarious, smart, charismatic, charming, kind, a great cook, etc.

Another side of the question is after we’ve actually spoken enough for them to get to know me a bit and then ask the question. Like, you seem so great, so why are you single? Translation: What’s wrong with you? What are you hiding? In my best moments, I let it go with an eye-roll and tell them I don’t waste my time dating anyone who isnt’ right for me. I may be too picky, but I often give too many chances as it is, and I’m not going to settle just because someone else thinks I should. In my weaker moments, I allow the question to creep through the cracks in my self-confidence. Why AM I single? What the fuck is wrong with me? When I ask these questions to myself, it does not make for a pleasant brainstorming session. I have a couple flaws. But after I acknowledge these, I remind myself of how awesome sauce I am and remember that it’s not a matter of men wanting or not wanting me, it’s almost always been my decision. There have been far more men who have wanted to be a part of my life than there have been men I’ve wanted to spend time with.

I’m single because I’m fucking single. It is a choice. I do not want to be alone forever, but I am not afraid of being alone. And I would rather be alone than be in a boring, abusive, unfaithful, or convenient relationship. I guess it would be a lot easier for most men to accept an easy answer, like, “I just got out of a relationship” or “I’ve been focusing on my career” than to hear my honest answer. Fuck those guys. Stop asking questions you don’t want to hear the answers to! Rant over.

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Kris & Kelly: Kris Doesn’t Come Home

So, I haven’t heard from Special K (Thanks to Mike for the nickname) all week. He hasn’t called, texted, written, or sent any pigeons. How am I supposed to evict someone who doesn’t even show up?!

And then yesterday, I receive a text from Kelly. It reads, “Kris went to court this morning and is going back this afternoon. They want jail time from him. I’m gonna have to come by at some point and start getting his stuff though then when he gets out he will pay you.”

Me: “Nope. Anything that crack addict may have left here can be picked up by him personally when he pays me and returns my iPad.”

Kelly: “lol he didn’t tak an iPad his computer is missing to if I don’t get his stuff back he sending his friends to get it.”

Did this bitch just threaten me?! I’m not refusing to give Kris his stuff back. But I am refusing to give it to this little cunt. Given what I know of their relationship, how am I supposed to even know if they’re actually still dating? Since douchebag Kris is now wearing stripes, she’s probably been taking her slut show to all the club bathrooms around the city! And seriously? His computer is missing? It certainly wasn’t any of my friends who took it, which only leaves him and his “friends”. I just told her I’m not going to argue with her and Kris can pick him stuff up personally. And that if he’s in jail, it’s not like he’s going to need it anyways. Although, come to think of it, he could probably use that lube…

Kris & Kelly: Kris Goes to Jail

This is my 200th post. Yay! I wish the content were a little better, but here we are. For your amusement, shock, and disgust.

Friday comes along, the day my roommate is supposed to have his rent money. I sleep in since it’s my day off and I hear him leave the house around 10 or 11. He’s gone all day. At 6:30, I text him to ask when he’s going to be home and that I need his rent money. No response all night. I text him again in the morning and tell him I need his rent money TODAY. $100 he still owes from October, $600 for November, $40 for cab, and $20 for stolen lube. That’s a total of $760. Plus, I still can’t find my iPad. I looked everywhere. I left it in my room when I went to Saskatoon last Saturday. I don’t remember seeing it since.

Close to noon, I get a text from Trashbag Kelly (how she’s saved in my phone). It says, “Kris is in jail. he got pulled over for a 0.8 he goes to court on Monday and he says he should be out then but i have to come get trigger today”.
Me: That sucks, but what am I supposed to do about my rent? He still owes from last month, plus this month.
TK: I don’t know. I’ll tell him to get a hold of you on Monday
Me: I don’t mean to put you in the middle, but if you talk to him, tell him monday may be too late. I have bills to pay and my life to live and his fuck up is not my problem. I’ve been very patient with him, but he needs to figure out a way to pay me today, jail or no jail. I fed and watered Trigger, but he’s pretty low on dog food. When do you want to pick him up?
TK: I’ll let him know if I talk to him and I’ll pick him up sometime this afternoon
Me: I may not be here. (Does this fucktard expect me to wait around all day for her?)
TK: I’ll text you beforehand to see if you’re there and if not I can just wait until you are.

An Hour and a half later:

TK: Are you at home? I need to know I have my friend that is going to pick trigger up.
Me: Yes.
TK: Ok can u answer the door when he knocks he will be there right away
Me: Does he know how to use a doorbell?
TK: I don’t know he said he is going to knock.

That response killed me! Sarcasm is lost on her. She doesn’t know? Is her friend a time traveller from the year 1732 before the doorbell was invented?!

I wait for this friend to show up. I even turn off the tv, and open the door to the porch so I can hear this stupid knock on the door. I hear nothing. I did see a truck drive away though, so maybe he was there and I didn’t hear him. But a short while later, a girl showed up. Just a tiny little thing with a squeaky girl voice saying she was there for Trigger. Now, this girl was happy to see this dog. She hugged him and he lost his mind when she came in. He obviously loves her. She should adopt him.

So, now the dog is gone. My roommate is in jail. I’m pretty sure he has a current DUI, plus who knows what from prior. I continue looking for my iPad and since he’s gone, I’m going to search his room. What’s the first thing I see when I start looking? A crackpipe. A motherfucking crackpipe! I had to google it just to know what kind of pipe it was! I’m very drug savvy. I was livid. LIVID. This cuntrag was not only smoking cigarettes in my house, but also crack?! I was appalled this douchebag was doing drugs in my house. I mean, do whatever kinds of drugs you want to, but don’t do them in my house! He wasn’t even trying to hide it! It was just laying right there in the open. Luckily I didn’t actually find any drugs. At least, I don’t think I did. Like I said, I’m not very savvy. I did find some lovely new decorative rocks that I added into a candle holder though. My house has been smelling fantastic!

I also found my favourite soup spoon bent to shit and burned. One of my metal measuring spoons was burned black. 3 of my drinking glasses were in his room. One had 5 cigarette butts and ashes in it. One was broken beside his bed. And one was sitting in between the window and the screen of the window. There were many empty beer cans and bottles. One broken bottle. The stolen bottle of lube. Various papers of which I read all of them. Some were payday loan agreements, some were work documents for sick time, some were detox and drug rehab coinciding with his time off work, and one was a letter written to his parents. The letter was essentially and apology to his parents for everything he had put them through and how he wanted to make them proud and he knows he’s been a disappointment up to this point. It was dated 2011. There was a simple note written underneath in response to him: “You can keep this letter. It’s full of lies.”

I texted his dad. Yep, I ratted this kid out. He’s only 23 and this is his life? I figured if he was going to be moving back to Estevan, his parents should know he’s still a strung-out piece of shit liar. His dad’s response was simple. “If you feel unsafe, call the police. He has to hit rockbottom.”

I packed all his clothes into garbage bags, threw away anything related to drugs, and picked up all the empties. As I was moving his bed, guess what I found?! The Sasktel remote! I told you it would pay off remembering that! Oh, and I use the term “bed” quite loosely. He only has a mattress. I want you to picture an alley in a big city you’ve only seen in the movies. Imagine the homeless people, the rats, the cats, the junkies. Imagine the garbage. Now imagine if there were a mattress. That mattress you just imagined is the mattress this guy sleeps on. Without any sheets most of the time. And his girlfriend sleeps on. And that they have sex on. Are you throwing up yet?

He had nothing of value. Mostly clothes and random junk. He doesn’t even have his house key with him, so thankfully he won’t be able to get into the house. He won’t be allowed back in. His things will be in the backyard. Well, some of his things. Depending on how much money he shows up with. I’m sure I’ll have some sort of an update after tomorrow if he actually shows up or contacts me. Anyone want to hang out tomorrow (Monday)? lol

Drunk Roommate

I am evicting my roommate tomorrow. But first, let me tell you a couple of stories so you’re all caught up. I’ll start with the last week of October. It was early Tuesday morning. 4am early. I was soundly sleeping in my bed when there’s a knock on my door and my roommate pokes his head in and says my name. It took me a couple second to realize I wasn’t dreaming/nightmaring and woke up with a jolt. WHAT. “I really need to talk to someone. Can I talk to you?” Fuck. Ok, what’s up? (Real all his parts in a drunk voice. Because he’s smashed again) “I was trying to talk to someone online, but my computer was too slow. I just, I don’t know. I just feel like my life sucks and everyone hates me.” Why do you think everyone hates you? “I don’t know. I just do. Sometimes I think I should just…*pause*…I don’t know. I mean, I believe in God, so I would never actually hurt myself or anything, but…I dunno.” I wake up a little bit more. Am I going to have to talk this fucker down off a goddamn ledge at 4am in the morning? Let me mention I have to work at 7am, so I’m not super happy to be woken up by this idiot in the first place and then he goes and has the nerve to try and manipulate me with this fucking suicide talk?! I am not making light of suicide. Once you have heard everything, you will understand why I believe it was mostly bullshit and manipulation. Of course, there’s always a chance he’s serious, and so I listen. He goes on. “Do you know why Kelly and I were fighting the other night?” No, I have no idea why the two of you ever fight. “Because we went to Habano’s on Friday and I caught her fucking some other guy in the men’s bathroom!” Uhh….come again? “Yeah, so I punched him, all 3 of us got kicked out, and I kicked his ass when we got outside. And everyone keeps telling me I can do better than her, but, I love her, you know?” Sure, you two seem like the perfect couple on the outside. “Anyways, I should let you get back to sleep. I’m sorry for bothering you, I’m going to let you get back to sleep.” Great idea. Good night.

I am almost back asleep when there’s a knock on my door again. “Amy, are you still awake? I, um, I, uhh, I chickened out on what I actually wanted to talk to you about.” What, Kris? “Umm, well, I, uhh, umm, I, well, like, I need a ride to work this morning. But I don’t have money for a cab. Could you lend me some and I’ll pay you back on Friday?” Seriously? How much do you need? “$40 would probably be enough. The job site is in White City.” Will you let me sleep if I lend you that? Fine.

So I get out of bed. It’s 5am now. He is talking the whole time saying how he appreciates it and blah blah blah. I look at him and say, “Kris, stop talking. Just shut the fuck up. Here. I’m going to bed.”

I hear him go outside a bit after this for what I assume is a smoke before catching a bit of sleep before work. I fall right back to sleep. When my alarm goes off at 6, I get out of bed. All the lights are on in the house. I can see his bedroom light on under his door, and his dog whines when he hears me moving around. I go to let Walter out and the back doors are open. Not unlocked. OPEN. Wide open. I guess I’m heating the whole neighbourhood while extending a warm, welcoming invitation to anyone who loves a Tuesday morning rape and pillage. I assume this asshole isn’t home so I go and let his dog out also. I take a look around the yard to see if the gates are open too. Nope. He managed to make sure the gates to the yard were closed. Gates that are low enough to easily climb over, and don’t lock anyways. But not with it enough to close the doors to the house. Brilliant. As I’m scanning the yard, the memory of the conversation from the night before creeps into my mind and my eyes come to rest on the garage. What if he’s…in the garage? Fuck it. I have to get ready for work.

If only that was the end of this exciting morning. As I’m putting his dog back in his room, what do I spy laying on his mattress? A bottle of lube. Not just any lube. Passion Parties Warming Lubrication. The fucker helped himself to my product shelves! And judging from the amount that was gone, that fucker was wandering around the city like the greased up deaf guy from Family Guy! Add another $20 to his bill.

When I get home from work that night, he’s home. I give him shit for leaving the doors open. He tells me he doesn’t remember much except that he owes me $40, he ended up at work and his boss told him to go home, he woke up around noon at a friend’s house, then he came home and slept. Stellar human being.

That night, a girl shows up at our house who is not Kelly. This girl is a Teletubby. Head to toe, red Teletubby. I don’t know who she is. I don’t care. Kelly is back by the weekend.

Friday comes. Rent day. I pay rent. He doesn’t have rent yet. Surprise! He assures me he will have it the following Friday. Monday night. I get home from work. Before I even get in the house, I can smell it. Cigarette smoke. Once I get in the front door, it’s like a wave hits me. I’m beyond pissed. Kris comes out of his room. Drunk. Again. And he says to me, “Amy, I have bad news.” Yeah, Kris? Is the bad news that my house reeks of fucking cigarette smoke?! Don’t smoke in my fucking house! *Looks like a deer in headlights* “Uhh, I mean, I did, but it was in the back porch and I had the door to the kitchen closed.” (The “porch” is just a little landing between the kitchen and the basement.) I don’t care where you smoked in the house, don’t fucking do it again. It stinks. You know smoking isn’t allowed. Don’t.Fucking.Do it.Again. “I’m really sorry, it’ll never happen again. The bad news is actually that I’m moving out on the 15th.” (I fail to see the bad in this news.) He tells me he got another job and he’s moving back to Estevan. And of course he once again asks if I hate him and says I never talk to him. I explain that he’s been nothing but drama since he moved in and I want no part of it. So pay me my money on Friday, move on the 15th, and we’re all good.

Tuesday. I’m at work and he texts me to ask if I know where the Sasktel remote is. I tell him to look under the couch or in the cushions. He already did. Then I don’t fucking know, you idiot! He also tells me he doesn’t know what is happening with his new job now. They may not want him to start until freezeup. I don’t respond. I’ll wait for Friday to see if he pays rent before we talk about anything else. I look for this remote for the next few days. Nothing. I move furniture, dig into the couch, even look in the fridge. Nothing. I assume he had it while he was drunk and who knows where it ended up. Remember this little fact about the remote for the next post 😉

I don’t see much of him during the rest of the week, although the one day I want to take my iPad to work, I can’t find it. Uh oh. Thursday I’m woken up at 5:55am by someone knocking on the front door and I can hear a truck outside. The dogs bark and I hear him tell his dog to be quiet. (Sidenote: This poor dog still gets absolutely no attention. He’s constantly being told he’s bad and to lay down and stop and no and fuck off. He’s a bad pet dad.) I yell to him that someone is at the door. Moments later, I hear the truck drive away and I tell him that too. I’m going to guess that was his ride to work and he didn’t bother going in that day. Stay tuned for the weekend, kids!