Dealbreaker: You Made Me the Wingwoman
We had this totally awesome conversation for hours. I thought we clicked. So when I discovered the next day that you began following me on Twitter, I was psyched. Imagine that. Flirting! Who knew it could be so easy?
…and then I found out you hooked up with my friend that night. So here’s what I’m thinking really happened: you sat through hours of me yammering about some stupid media theory cum Internet bullshit simply in hopes of banging her. Cum Internet, indeed.
See, I’m not jealous or bitter. I feel kind of bad for you. My friend is awesome, but you know, you totally made me feel like shit. I’m stuck here trying to reaffirm my self-worth like a low-rent Jack Handey: “I have advanced degrees, I’ve done things with my life, and goshdarnit, my friends like me!” Fuck you for making me feel like I’m not good enough for your late 1990s-bad-emo-outfitted scrawny ass.
I’m dying to know what so damned awful about wasting an evening with me. The media theory? The fact that I understand what you actually do for a living, or that I understand your passions? Face it — you’re terrified of women like myself. That’s probably a bigger dealbreaker than relegating me to signal noise, anyway.
Its funny how people say shit about others ONLY AFTER they get dissed by these people. (Hope that made sense)
If he really was a “late 1990s-bad-emo-outfitted scrawny ass”….then why was she flirting with him to begin with?
Because I’m in my 30s. Because I’m single. Because it’s fun. Because I thought he was interested in me until he went and fucked my friend? I dunno, if I have to spell that out for you…
