Quirkiness is Not a Star Quality

Remember how your mom used to tell you that certain things build character? Typically referring to some kind of hardship that truly you should never have had to endure: mowing the lawn, going to one of your parent's friends homes when you could have been out playing, breaking your arm, etc.

Unfortunately, none of these prepared you for quirky habits of guys you would later date. Believe me, none of these things build character - at least not the kind you want built. The TV channel USA's new slogan is "character fantasy," where television actors have strange habits they want you to emulate, or form your own to be shared on nationally broadcast TV shows.

But quirkiness has it's price. 

Example 1: Deigo walks on his tip-toes. EVERYWHERE. You didn't really notice it until you saw him walk barefoot. At least a few times I thought he was about to fall forward but he caught himself again and kept walking. Even in high school, Deigo was called the tip-toe bandit. He played football. Apparently that made sense in the context of the game, but either way, he's pretty proud of it.

Walking on tip-toes, constantly... well you look a little odd, but for the most part its unnoticable and the kind of quirky that makes people laugh, not cringe.

Example 2:

Neanderthal and I rode to school together in high school. I drove since I had a car and a parking permit for the lot. What drove me crazy, and was, quite frankly very odd, was that he would rock forward and back in the passenger seat. Music wouldn't even be playing and he would rock. It had no rythym to speak of, just the back and forth, back and forth... like a kid on a rocking horse. There never even seemed to be a purpose!

Rocking with no express purpose, need, or motivation... freakin odd.

Example 3:

Sasquatch had a very disconcerting evening ritual. He would remove his necklace, which had a medallion with a creepy symbol of some sort. It had character, the kind I like. What I did NOT like was the weird thing he did with it.

After taking the necklace off, he would tap it three times on the beside table, then lay it in a circle. Next, he would take the small book next to his bed, which I believe was a journal of some sort. He would:

Open it,
Read a passage
Close the book
Touch it to his forehead
Place it back down on the table.

W.
T.
F.

I don't like to wonder if the guy I'm dating is a member of the occult. Therefore, don't proceed to learn any strange rituals and then NOT explain them when asked. The least Sasquatch could do was assuage my fears that the Devil was going to get me.

Lesson learned? Don't be too quirky. There's a fine line between cute, odd, and just plain loser.

A Little Less Talk...

Sasquatch spoke like Shakespeare. Don't get me wrong, Sasquatch is actually a great guy. But he always spoke as if someone was listening and writing down every word that came from his mouth. Sorry buddy, I don't carry a voice recorder in my pocket. And typically, what he would say has either been said before or is not nearly as deep as he thought. Although, I have to say, sometimes the poetic thought and rituals were endearing... but they simply wore me out. There's only so long you can date someone who reminds you of Edgar Allen Poe or Ernest Hemingway, without the creepster part.

But the high faluten speech wasn't just when we were alone. Sasquatch came to dinner with myself and my parents. When the waiter came by to take our order, I jokingly remarked that both he and my father would want something spicy. Hello, they both like spicy food! I didn't specify a dish, so I knew the waiter wouldn't write the order down, "something spicy." I know he doesn't speak English well, but goodness gracious, I'm sure he's not an idiot.

Instead of laughing or recognizing it was a joke, Sasquatch turned to me and deadpanned, "Do not speak for me, for I can speak for myself."

Excuse me? At first I was simply stunned. I wasn't sure how to respond. After all, my parents were across the table. To top it off, my father does the typical guy response, "OOOOOOOO!" I think daggers shot from my eyes at this crazy man who I'm apparently related to. I secretly hoped at this moment the milkman was actually my father.

The point of my outrage is that I felt as though Sasquatch was trying to put me in my place. Sasquatch knows what he wants and he's set in his ways. That might make him a spectacular catch for someone someday. But not for me. I'm too opinionated and driven to be spoken to as though I'm a child rather than a girlfriend.

Please know that Sasquatch is a good guy, he's not remotely as retarded as some of the exes highlighted in this blog. Yet some of his mannerisms and comments are most certainly the kind that are detrimental and... well really just awkward... and that makes some of these stories a perfect fit for Loser-ex.

Fuzzy Wuzzy Was a Bear

One thing I cannot stress enough to guys concerned about how they look naked - suck it up and get a wax. I know perhaps guys can't help it when they're hairy, nor do I blame them. But here's the thing, if it bother's you - go all out and get it fixed.


Sasquatch was just generally hairy. Hence, his nickname. Again, I don't fault him for being a hairy guy, it's in his genes. But what made it uber awkward was that he would try to shave his shoulders, which, I guess, was the part he most despised.


The problem with strategically shaving parts of your hairy body comes when you put clothes ON. Sasquatch's t-shirts would catch on his shoulder stubble, and ride up. I was constantly having to fix it so that he didn't look like he was wearing a stupid muscle shirt.


Side note: Muscle shirts are always stupid. No excuse. You look like a fool.



I felt bad for Sasquatch. Half the time I was with him I felt like I was covered in dog hair and I had to remind myself... no you're dating a Yeti. (Don't think I'm being mean, I told him as such, and in turn he called me his Midget. Fair game here, ya'll. I'm not evil.) It's a little gross to get up and wonder where all the random disgusting hair came from.

Another side note: If you're this hairy, clean your damn shower often and consistently. It's friggin gross when it covers you, your bed, AND you bathroom when you don't take the time to wax, change your sheets every night, or clean the damned bathroom.

Back to my main point. Get a wax. Painful as all hell, and you'll be red for a day or two. But ya'll play football and hockey and whatnot. Isn't the motto no pain no gain? Well here's a new one for you to work with.

No pain, no game.