Me: Ya, you totally send me orchids. And then talk about wanting to be casual. And then actually pretend like I’ve betrayed you.
Bookstore: Right.
Me: And then you decided to come over anyways? And so what if someone was over? You were the one who wanted to be casual.
Bookstore: Uh huh.
Me: And how dare you assume just because he was leaving my floor that he was seeing me. And that I have like 1000 guys lining up to do me.
Bookstore: Yup.
Me: And then deciding even after you get on my floor that somehow he slept with me. I mean, he (WineBar) could have been anyone. He could have been just a friend. You don’t know that.
Bookstore: Yeah.
Me: So then trying to pin it on me is just wrong.
Bookstore: Ok.
At this point it occurs to me that I’ve been talking and this guy is just giving me one word answers.
So I ask:
Me: Do you have anything to say that’s over 1 syllable?
Bookstore: (pauses for a bit). Nah
Me: This is funny?
Then he smirks and shrugs.
I mean, am I wrong here? Am I asking for too much? This guy is totally being an asshole. I mean, I get the whole funny and cocky and be a bit of an asshole to keep the girl interested and pick her up but he was just doing this out of spite. Like some guys have refined the art of being douche-y to the point where they do it just to get under your skin.
But he wants to bring a knife to a gun fight? That’s cool. I’m bringing a mother effing tank. You think you can mess with the power of woman, dear lil’ Bookstore? Wait till you get a taste of how I fight back. So I excuse myself and go to the restroom. Where I call WineBar.
“Hello?” he answers.
“Can you speak in more than one syllable?” I ask.
“Of course I can. And I don’t wear women’s panties. What’s with all these strange questions?” he asks me.
That’s a lot of syllables. And he doesn’t wear women’s panties. This is like the perfect guy now apparently.
“Meet me at the Westin St. Francis,” I tell him. “I’m gonna rock your world.”
Of course, I also texted him that he should get the hotel room unless he wanted me to
get it, but I figured since I was the one giving him the cookie, he should pay for the jar, ya know? I managed to keep the convo going one sided with Bookstore, and I promise I really did give him more chances. I was ready to cancel on WineBar at any point after I got back from the restroom if I got ONE indication this guy cared and wasn’t just going through the motions of being an asshole. But no.
Nothing.
When WineBar texted that he was in the lobby checking in, I looked at Bookstore.
“I don’t think this is gonna work out between us, Bookstore,” I said at the end. “And I gotta go” I told him.
“Where?” he asked. That’s when WineBar came into the bar.
I just shrugged and smiled.