There are certain topics which are widely regarded as off limits for criticizing one's significant other. For example, I would never criticize a guy's height, penis size or baldness. Those are all things that are beyond their control and furthermore, if they were things that truly bothered me, I would simply not date the guy in question.
The list of off limits topics for women would probably include any facial features, breast size and weight. Of course, this didn't stop my exes from bringing up each of these topics. Perhaps the most alarming was the weight matter. I am not fat, so it would seem logical that no one would ever have anything negative to say about my weight. Apparently, this is not the case. Men seem to think that because I am not fat, they get a free pass on the weight issue, like it won't bother me. Well, assholes, it does.
When I was dating Fred, I was 5'8" and wore a size 0 (I have since ballooned up to a humongous size 2). Yet, he seemed to take pleasure in pointing out any area of me that had even an ounce of fat on it. One such area was my ass. I am not a big girl, but I have a lot of T & A. While this is not something I love about myself, it is something that I mostly accept and do not think about on a day-to-day basis. And seriously, if my ass still fit into a size 0, how much A did I really have?
I should also bring up that I grew 6 inches in high school and as a result, still had the faint remnants of stretch marks on my upper thighs in mid college (in case you really care, they are no longer visible). Well, one day Fred took it upon himself to point this out to me.
Fred: Your ass is too big
Me: It's a size 0.
Fred: But you have stretch marks. That means you're too fat.
Me: No, it means I grew six inches very quickly.
Fred: But it means you got too fat.
The conversation went on like this for a while before I finally gave up. Yes Fred, I am fat.
The thing that pisses me off the most about this is that he was, in fact, fat. 5'8" and 220 lbs is fat. Sorry, but it is. Yet, I would never have told him that. Also, I was much thinner than the girls he dated prior to me (and the ones he has dated since). If he ever called them fat, I hope they were more willing to roll with this kind of criticism than I was.
I often wonder what types of conversations he has had with these other women, given his penchant for playing fat police.
Fred: You're fat.
Fred's gf: You're fat, too.
Fred: Let's have fat sex.
Fred's gf: OMFG, I LOVE BUTTER!!!
Or something like that.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
The Game
BJA and I both have boyfriends, so it has been getting tougher to come up with new posts. While this doesn't really count as an ex story, we feel that these losers have earned themselves a special place on our blog.
Last Saturday, we went out with some other friends and were soon accosted by two... interesting-looking gentlemen. Oh, why am I trying to be nice about this? They looked like fricking rednecks. One was sporting a wolf shirt with a leather vest. The other was wearing a tight (I mean like so tight there was visible nippleage) and unflattering (he did not have the body to be wearing anything tight) bright yellow New Mexico shirt and motorcycle boots. Even with a motorcycle convention going on in Washington, they were still sorely out of place.
As they approach us, New Mexico announces "I usually don't talk to ethnic girls, but you guys are really hot."
Um, what? Ok, aside from the fact that is massively inappropriate to say to anyone, it also was a little confusing to me. I would not describe either myself or BJA as being ethnic. We're both of European ancestry, just like the rednecks. I am assuming that BJA was the "ethnic" one of us since she has dark hair and eyes, but either way, it's still a stretch. BJA thinks it may have been my dress, which had a pattern that may have been vaguely Indian-esque.
The conversation continued with them basically sounding ridiculous and BJA and I politely making fun of them in a way that went completely over their heads. I finally slipped in an insult that was low-brow enough for them to get. And they found it to be significantly more funny than it actually was. After they had themselves a little giggle fest, they revealed to us their plan.
They were trying to get rejected by as many girls as possible. They wanted to know if we had any advice for them. I politely gave them two of my worst pick up lines and suggested they used them. Then their entourage came over to talk to me and BJA. The rest of the entourage was about as interesting as Wolf Shirt and New Mexico. Clearly, they were not putting this plan to work. I told them to get on it (trying to get them to leave) and they turned around to the girls behind us (while still looking like they were in our group). I told them to try talking to people on the other side of the bar, as far away from us as possible; because they'll look more reject-able if there are no women with them. They took the hint. I think deep down, they were grateful that I gave them each one more rejection to add to their count.
I get it. They go out and try to pretend like they want to get rejected, that way when they do get rejected, it was part of the plan. And if they don't get immediately dismissed, they think their victims will find themselves special when they're let in on the plan. It's not clever. It's not cute. It's annoying.
Look, guys, seriously, don't play games like this. If you want to talk to a woman, just go for it. Don't make up stupid-ass back stories. Don't tell me you're from out-of-state if you're really just from over the bridge. Don't ask me if I saw the fight outside. Don't pretend to be taking a survey. Don't pretend to show me a magic trick. Just don't. Be honest about your intentions. Even if they are just to get in my pants.
Last Saturday, we went out with some other friends and were soon accosted by two... interesting-looking gentlemen. Oh, why am I trying to be nice about this? They looked like fricking rednecks. One was sporting a wolf shirt with a leather vest. The other was wearing a tight (I mean like so tight there was visible nippleage) and unflattering (he did not have the body to be wearing anything tight) bright yellow New Mexico shirt and motorcycle boots. Even with a motorcycle convention going on in Washington, they were still sorely out of place.
As they approach us, New Mexico announces "I usually don't talk to ethnic girls, but you guys are really hot."
Um, what? Ok, aside from the fact that is massively inappropriate to say to anyone, it also was a little confusing to me. I would not describe either myself or BJA as being ethnic. We're both of European ancestry, just like the rednecks. I am assuming that BJA was the "ethnic" one of us since she has dark hair and eyes, but either way, it's still a stretch. BJA thinks it may have been my dress, which had a pattern that may have been vaguely Indian-esque.
The conversation continued with them basically sounding ridiculous and BJA and I politely making fun of them in a way that went completely over their heads. I finally slipped in an insult that was low-brow enough for them to get. And they found it to be significantly more funny than it actually was. After they had themselves a little giggle fest, they revealed to us their plan.
They were trying to get rejected by as many girls as possible. They wanted to know if we had any advice for them. I politely gave them two of my worst pick up lines and suggested they used them. Then their entourage came over to talk to me and BJA. The rest of the entourage was about as interesting as Wolf Shirt and New Mexico. Clearly, they were not putting this plan to work. I told them to get on it (trying to get them to leave) and they turned around to the girls behind us (while still looking like they were in our group). I told them to try talking to people on the other side of the bar, as far away from us as possible; because they'll look more reject-able if there are no women with them. They took the hint. I think deep down, they were grateful that I gave them each one more rejection to add to their count.
I get it. They go out and try to pretend like they want to get rejected, that way when they do get rejected, it was part of the plan. And if they don't get immediately dismissed, they think their victims will find themselves special when they're let in on the plan. It's not clever. It's not cute. It's annoying.
Look, guys, seriously, don't play games like this. If you want to talk to a woman, just go for it. Don't make up stupid-ass back stories. Don't tell me you're from out-of-state if you're really just from over the bridge. Don't ask me if I saw the fight outside. Don't pretend to be taking a survey. Don't pretend to show me a magic trick. Just don't. Be honest about your intentions. Even if they are just to get in my pants.
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