Monday, March 06, 2006

Memories of Boyfriends Past

For some reason, the men in my old life, the one where I was a cool uptown Toronto girl who was at a pub every night with her friends and was young and had her whole life ahead of her, keep popping into my head lately.

Today, I remembered G. Gosh, now that I've typed G., I just remembered another boyfriend whose name starts with the letter G. And the weird thing is, they came after each other. OK, that sounded gross like some porno movie. You know what I mean. I dated them one after the other.

Let's start with the first G. I met him when I was 19. He was 28. That's right folks, a grown man, in the real world, dating a university student. Can you say scumbag? But in his defense he was extremely immature, had a wild past that freaked me out from the beginning since I was very squeaky clean. He told me he'd been arrested for cocaine possession. This is me, the person who won't even put those cold nasal medicine thingies in my nose. Except for air, my nose is exit only, thank you very much.

Anyway, G. had some quirks. He claimed to be allergic to just about every type of food. Meaning mostly vegetables and fruit. He loved bacon sandwiches, which are like a BLT, just without the L. And the T. I dated him for a year and a half I believe. He gave me a $650 pearl necklace for our one-year anniversary. After we broke up, I tried to sell it at one of those used jewelry stores and they offered me thirty bucks for it. I needed the money really bad, but I still thought that was insane, so I gave the necklace to my sister instead. I think she wore it at her wedding actually.

I woke up one day next to G. and realized that he looked just like a beached whale. Pale and grey and with a big gut. That's when I knew that I couldn't be with this guy any longer. And being a mature 20 year-old at this point, I proceeded to do everything possible to get him to break up with me. Including and oh I cannot believe I'm admitting to this... I uhm... I pretended to fall asleep while he was going down on me.

There, I've said it. I'm not proud of it, but hey, I'm sure your past isn't all church services and volunteering with amputee alzheimer patients.

Then came G squared. Which actually fits him, because he was quite the nerd. G squared was a perfectly nice guy. In fact, he was too nice for a horrible person like me.

I quickly realized that I had the talent to make G squared cry. And once I discovered this, I used it very regularly. I'm pretty sure that in the three months of my dating G squared, I made him cry a total of at least once a week. Once I made him cry because I decided two blocks from my house that he should have offered to let me drive. I brow beat him about this until he cried. He pulled over to the side of the road to let me drive and of course, I refused, making him cry even harder.

Looking back on it now, I feel kind of bad, but at the same time, I've never been meaner than a toothless chihuahua. So for me to be able to make this guy cry, really, he just wasn't cut out for the real world.

I remember when I broke up with him. It didn't go so well. I think in one of my confession posts, I mentioned making a guy wait so long for me just to be dumped, because I was getting acrylic nails put on. Well, that was G. squared.

And when I woke him up only to tell him it was over, it didn't go so well. I literally witnessed the seven stages of grief during the next hour. It was quite awkward, since all I wanted to do was go into my apartment (I took him to the park down the street, knowing that I'd never be able to get him to leave if I let him in) and admire my new fake nails. Poor G. squared was shocked, then angry, then sad then hurt, then went into denial and told me he was intending on taking me to a casino on that day and we should just go now. And once he got to the realization and acceptance stage, it got ugly because he threatened to drive his parents' car (he didn't have his own) into the lake to kill himself.

And you wonder why I decided that I'd just never get married and just live with a bunch of cats. Can you blame me?

Love,

Catwoman.

1 comment:

Emma in Canada said...

Would ya stop making me laugh already? The pretending to sleep...I've done that too. Just to avoid having actual sex. Poor wee bugger that fella was.