GUYS! Sarah Von from the UNIMPEACHABLY DELIGHTFUL yes and yes was kind enough to run a little interview with me today! Check it out if you’re interested in my inner workings, such as they are. And apologize for length of today’s post but I’m going to go ahead and file it under: worth it.
NTKOG #96: The kind of bold, forward-moving networker who meets you, takes your contact information and actually calls you to meet up afterwards.
I am: terrified of accidentally imposing my company on unwilling interlocutors.
I am not: crazy enough, therefore, to follow through with any of the disposable friends whose numbers and business cards I accumulate by the dozen on the T.
The Scene: Last month, I met a dude on the T and went absolutely nuts for him — fireworks, fantasy montages, the whole deal — and was heartbroken when he canceled our date. A few days ago, after a month of no contact from him, I forcibly ejected every fiber of “he’s just not that into you” from my mind and texted him, proposing drinks on Thursday. To my utter friggin’ elation, he actually agreed, and suggested 8pm at Harvard Square.
Dressed for the evening in a tizzy; finally settled on: pencil skirt, casual V-neck with push-up bra, granny panties (to protect against first-date sexin’), and condoms in my purse (I’m only human). Ladies, you know what I’m talking about. Dude was, as I remembered, a dreamboat, after all.
As I approached him, he waved and I wondered, huh, were his eyes this beady when I first met him? And was his forehead always so protrudey? But my taste in men is quirky anyway. As we walked to the bar, I launched into a funny story about Kiss-Ducker and I getting drunk in a combination Mexican restaurant slash tranny bar in San Jose.
“When we get together, we’re totally crazy,” I smiled.
“Wanna know a fun fact about me?” he asked. I nodded. “I’m totally crazy too.”
Just then, his cell phone went off; he answered immediately. “Hi Mom. I’m okay, how are you? Yeah, I’m just out right now. With some girl.” I threw up my arms in mock-protest. “No, she’s a real girl, Mom. I swear she’s real.” Um, your red flags getting a workout yet?
After he said goodbye, I joked: “Hey, this is great. I thought I would make this date really awkward, but, dude, you took a call from your mom! Totally surged into the lead! Nothing can be awkward now!”
“Oh, the fun fact about me,” he continued. “I’m crazy. Literally. I was hospitalized for a psychiatric breakdown in late November. I got diagnosed with bipolar and I’m on tons of lithium, so I can’t read people’s minds anymore. Okay, the bar’s around the corner.”
…holy shit. Holy shit. We walked into the bar and were told it had a twenty-minute wait. Was that okay with me, he asked? Uh, no. I needed gin and I needed it about five minutes ago.
We headed down the block to a cute underground bar and I flagged the hostess down and begged for a gin and ginger ale, and keep ‘em coming. And for the gentleman?
“I’ll have a pina colada.”
…she broke it to him that they don’t make pina coladas at Irish pubs, so he sighed and ordered a pint of beer. When she brought our drinks, she lay a straw next to my glass. Former Dreamboat unwrapped the straw and stuck it in his beer. HE DRANK BEER WITH A STRAW.
In order to fill the fog of awkward, I babbled through my ice-breakers (what’s the most embarrassing song on your iPod? Miley Cyrus. do you have a rich uncle or a creepy uncle? Uncle Moneybags) while generously lubricating my discomfort with the blessed gin. Former Dreamboat, though, was in no hurry. He sipped his beer drop by drop while staring deep in my eyes. And dudes, I am here to say that he had a case of the Crazy Eye so bad that his irises were practically plaid. If you don’t know what I mean by this, you have never been penetrated by the Crazy Eye.
Every time I dropped my hand to the table, he jerked his arm toward me to try to cover my hand with his own. After a few iterations of hand and mouse, I buried my fists deep in my armpits, shivering with feigned cold in the eighty-degree bar.
The conversation moved to meeting people in the T, and I admitted that though I am naturally shy, I meet tons of people during my commute. “It’s hard to meet people on the T, though,” he mused. “If you try to talk to people, they think you’re crazy. My best opener is when I see people playing with their cell phones, I ask if they get reception in the station. You can kind of trick people into talking to you that way.”
I mentioned that I like to flash people live eyes, which sometimes draws them into conversation. He answered: “Oh, I stare at people too. I stare at people in the T all the time. They always look away really fast, though. It’s probably because I’m a guy.” It could be that, dude. It could. Or it could be the fact that you actively try to trick people into talking to you.
For the rest of his slooooow beer (and my two subsequent gin and ginger ales), he discussed the side effects of his lithium, the pall that it casts over his world until it loosens its grip before bedtime. “Did you know that 60% of bipolar patients stop taking their medicine within a year?” he asked me, a glint of hope in his voice. “I miss being manic. I was really great back then. I was a good conversationalist. You would have liked me. I thought I could read minds too, and even though I guess I couldn’t, it was kind of nice, feeling normal like that.”
Finally I paid for our drinks and walked him back to the T station, before catching my bus. There was a moment before we parted ways — that normal awkward first date moment, but captured in a funhouse mirror. He leaned in to kiss me, but I ducked out of it and gave him a hug. We should do this again, he told me. Yeah, I said, maybe. As I walked away, I could hear him taking out his cell phone to call his mother back.
The Verdict: Shit, guys, I thought that was a funny story, but it’s actually kind of sad, isn’t it? I don’t know. Part of me is happy that he apparently had a good time; the other part of me is shrieking I wore a push-up bra for this?! One thing is for certain: I’m not picking up any more guys in public until I somehow install a better pre-screening process for social dysfunction. Also, if a dude ever comes up to me on the T and asks if I get cell reception, I will turn up my music, smile politely, and say nothing.
Now I’m kind of feeling like a jerkface that I didn’t like this guy, but the thing is, you can’t like people just because the world would be a sweeter place if you did. I think all you can do is be nice and try to be an okay person. He ordered a pina colada in an Irish pub. It wasn’t going to work out anyway. It just wasn’t. I don’t know. I’m doing my best.
{ 1 trackback }
{ 58 comments… read them below or add one }
I didn’t laugh out loud until “I’ll have a pina colada,” but then I kind of lost it. How is it that that is such a reliable indicator of social ability? I don’t even drink and I know it’s wrong. Also, it reminds me of the time an awkward classmate came along to the pub and ordered a milk. When the waitress told her she couldn’t have milk she ordered a chocolate martini. Because that’s the next closest thing?
Is this post the blogging equivalent of “car crash tv”, where you can see it coming from waaay out, but just can’t stop?
What’s wrong with ordering a cocktail in an Irish pub? You can do in Ireland (but wouldn’t because they can’t mix cocktails properly there either, d@mn Weights & Measures), so why not in the USA?
haha, oh my gosh, I’ve never heard of car crash TV but that sounds like highly diverting programming!
Also, nothing wrong with ordering a cocktail in an Irish pub — if I think they’ll have fresh citrus, I often order a gimlet or a sidecar. The problem was his choice of cocktail. I mean, a frozen blender Tiki drink?! Those are only acceptable at a bachelorette party, on the beach or, uh, actually just pretty much never.
you know, as someone who used to work in the medical field, i know doctors are told to never let a person on lithium stand between them and the door.
i used to recruit patients for clinical trials and as soon as I see someone on lithium, i just pass them by.
just food for thought.
good thing you didn’t take him back to your place!!
Dude, thank you. This comment actually made me feel a lot better. All day I’ve felt like a terrible jerkface for not liking him, but the thing is, it wasn’t just the lithium or all the mental health talk that stopped me from liking him. Pretty much every aspect of him was a really bad match for me. It was just a complete trainwreck.
I kind of feel like Liz in the episode of 30 Rock where she breaks up with a black guy and everyone calls her racist, but really he was just an extremely unpleasant dude. It’s an awkward situation!
On the other hand, this guy is obviously going through an extremely rough period in his life and you took him out for a beer and an attempt at a fun evening. It’s too bad that it didn’t work out differently, but I think you did something incredibly kind.
Yea, I read this story as “TKOG is incredibly sweet and considerate.” I don’t think this first date — with the pina colada and the mother call and all the other things besides openly reminiscing about when he could read people’s thoughts — would have lasted very long with a less nice girl. (Although, in your non-defense, as a writer, you were also probably drawn to the interaction for its writability.)
Also, I loved your line, “Hey, this is great. I thought I would make this date really awkward, but, dude, you took a call from your mom! Totally surged into the lead! Nothing can be awkward now!” In a parallel universe where the guy didn’t turn out to be undateable for you, that really could have salvaged the situation.
Also, “Crazy Eye so bad that his irises were practically plaid” — genius.
Oh.My.God. I can’t believe this is even the same guy!
I’m really glad you made it home safely, cuz he sounds like a total creeper.
And speaking of beer with a straw, the husband and I went out to lunch the other day. I ordered a vodka and cranberry, he ordered a Sam Adams. Dude brought one straw and put it next to the beer. I was like, who the hell drinks beer with a straw? Now I know.
I’d say your mixed feelings about the whole situation are totally justified. On the one hand, yeah – the poor guy. You were nice to him, though, and that’s what’s important. On the other hand – keep a good distance. I see “Future Restraining Order” written all over him.
Yay for bad date stories! Good job sticking it out and staying polite and friendly. And I’m glad you’re not chopped up in little pieces all over the city.
You just said a lot of the other stuff I was thinking about this way better than I ever could.
Hon, gotta say, I’ve had way *way* worse first dates. So don’t let it turn you off from randomly meeting guys, ok?
Also, gotta toss a word in in his favor that he was really forthright with you about being bipolar, and lots of times you don’t find that out until much farther into the situation.
Wanted to addendum that with, but if you aren’t feeling it, you aren’t feeling it, and that’s always justified!
Meep! So Porn Star and my speculations were right (i.e. desperate, mentally missing a chunk). That sounded like a very creepy date, and I’m not sure why he would be flaunting the fact that he had a mental breakdown. Or take a call from his mother….
Oh my gosh! I thought I was the only one who felt bad after a date like that…
And I was thinking of ollowing up on someone, you jsut changed my mind… I’d rather remember the sparks and fireworks thanks!
If my friend or I ever went on a semi-blind date, we’d always set a time to call each other about smack-dab in the middle of the date, just in case. If we didn’t answer, we were having a good time. If we did answer, the other person was supposed to be having an emergency so we could politely leave. A little shady on our part, maybe, but it sure got us out of a few awkward situations, and we had the comfort of knowing that someone knew where we were and who we were with.
BTW, plaid irises are always a deal breaker for me. :)
Eh, you win some, you lose some. I can’t help treating dating as a sort of Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story. It’s more fun and less traumatizing if you don’t take it all so seriously.
Which reminds me….have you ever heard of http://www.crazyblinddate.com/ ? It is exactly what it sounds like–crazy. They set you up with people you can’t see or talk to until you meet them. You know, just in case you run out of strangers on the street to talk to.
I’ve done a couple, but would be curious to hear your stories about Boston crazy blind daters…
who am I kidding…
I totally know what you mean by crazy eyes. Dude I dated before I met CG had a serious case. Fucking creepy, like he’s trying to bore a hole into you, hollow it out and crawl inside for a nap or something.
Mine also called me after the date and spoke in a terrible Scottish accent because . . . well, I guess he thought that was a charming thing to do after an awkward first date that had ended with me backing away from him slowly and warily.
Oooooh, wow. I feel so sad for the guy, but uhhh, I don’t date people because I feel badly for him. I think you’re a gem for sticking it out and not RUNNING THE EFF AWAY when he mentioned his Crazy.
Holy shit dude. I guess this makes that time I set you up at Washington Square Tavern look pretty tame right?
I’m not crazy, I swear.
Girl, stay away from him!! But what a wonderful story.. I had been looking forward to this all day and I am not disappointed!
“he had a case of the Crazy Eye so bad that his irises were practically plaid” You often use the kind of sentences that stick with me for weeks, loves it.
I once got tricked into dating a crazy. I missed all the signs. He was just so into me that I wanted him to be normal. After 3 weeks I started to realize he was pathological. When I ended things he made up this whole story about his mom being murdered (yeah nutso) to try to make me feel sorry for him. Then later his mom (not dead) begged me to give him another chance. So yeah… if you feel he is crazy from the first date. Stay AWAY!
I totally don’t think you’re a jerkface, I was laughing through this entire thing, but that last sentence, where he calls his mom…ah, that kills. Totally sad.
i wasn’t really going to respond to this entry because i didn’t want to be all debby downer/wow-you’re-all-kind-of-jerkfaces… but then i read the interview and decided to do it.
everyone’s response to the fact this guy has a mental illness is really REALLY unnerving.
having a mental illness and being medicated for it is NO different than having a long-term treatable physical illness. it is very commendable that this guy was secure enough (i’m sure most of you would say ‘crazy enough’) to disclose this information about himself early on in the date — AND that he is actively being treated for it. it would be far worse if he weren’t on lithium, just as if a somebody with an immune deficiency stopped taking medication to help keep them from becoming infected with a random illness by just going outside.
perhaps the reason he brought up the fact that he had a mental breakdown recently is because it is a salient event in his recent past; perhaps talking about it helps him deal with it, helps him get through any lingering issues that stemmed from it.
our society is so prejudiced against people with poor mental health and this is very disheartening. there are few socially acceptable prejudices left, but this is definitely one of them.
you all say, ‘omg, he’s on lithium??’ when you should be saying, ‘good for him!’ would you be saying, ‘i can’t believe you went on a date with somebody who has lupus!’
seriously, people. open your fucking minds.
Dude, I completely feel you on this, and I’m glad you commented. This is part of why I was of two minds about posting this. The stigma against people receiving treatment for mental health issues in our society is horrifying; it’s no different in essence than racism or homophobia, but for some reason, people conveniently choose to ignore the fact that you can’t blame people for their mental health.
The thing I tried to convey and I’m sure a thousand times over I didn’t express clearly enough is that my reaction to him wasn’t a response to his mental illness or even his recent hospitalization, but to the fact that he and i were just comically ill-suited. The big three traits I look for in men? 1) Smarter than me (he wasn’t); 2) funnier than me (nope); 3) that ineffable cool factor or strong social skills. Illness or not, medication or not, by choosing to reveal something so personal to me before we’d even walked to the bar, he made me profoundly uncomfortable. I mean, there’s tons of stuff about me I don’t tell people right away (or even after many years) because I have the good sense to not want to scare them off.
The parts of this story that were funny to me were moments of straight-up social awkwardness (pina colada! come on, dude!) that I would have laughed at with anyone. The parts of the story that are sad to me, I mean, hopefully came across a little bit.
Anyway, I’m probably just being defensive because I knew that — while defensible! — the decision to post this was probably an asshole move. I definitely deserved to get called out for that. I’d like to think that I personally in my real life am not a part of The Problem, but that certainly doesn’t excuse me for not trying to be a part of the solution.
Thanks again for commenting.
Oh, and I just realized that I had a later draft of this post with a paragraph about mental health stigma that completely didn’t get posted. Huh. That might have also made this seem just a smidge less assholic.
I see nothing wrong with posting this entry.
I have friends on meds for bi-polar, but wouldn’t feel the need to introduce themselves and announce their illness.
I think over sharing when meeting someone for the first time is a bit much. He will use his openness as the reason you wouldn’t go on a second date when it is really because you didn’t mesh with him.
Digit dialing is rude but to tell your mom you’re out with some girl is beyond rude.
At least I didn’t get the dreaded “Oh, nothing much. What’s up with you?”!
I would just like to say a few things. First of all I am bipolar. Very few patients are treated with lithium anymore, in fact it’s usually a last resort, because of all the side effects including the ones that make you come across as creepy.
Second you have no need to feel defensive. Yes, having an emotional disorder is not the fault of the afflicted. Yes, there is a stigma associated with mental illnesses. But seriously??? Would you date a terminally ill cancer patient. We know it’s not contagious, but there’s no future in the realtionship.
The same goes for dating someone with a mood disorder. Your date was right, a lot of bipolar patients do discontinue their meds at some point for a number of reasons. You shouldn’t have to deal with the fallout.
The point is survival of the fittest is an innate quality to all animals, including humans. Bipolar is hereditary. Why would you want to take the chance to pass that on to your children. You have to make the choices that are best for you. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about expressing your feelings or making the choice that you made.
Hmmmmm. I don’t understand why you thought it a bad date?
I mean, you found out on the 1st date he is certifiably nuts and is proud of it. (aka run as fast as you can)
He is in constant contact with his mom (aka momma’s boy).
He digit dials on dates (aka rude)
Orders Pina Colada in the dead of winter in a non-tropical place (aka true girlie man)
Sips beer through a straw (aka cheap date trying to get drunk off one beer)
Goes for the kiss at the T station (aka moron for not picking up hints)
Calls his mom after you walk away (see above…but it makes you wonder if he’d call his mom after sex to discuss)
This date (aka run for your life and never turn around).
Dear, I say, “It’s heartwarming that any young man would accept a call from his mother during a date.” I would love to have this boy’s mother’s telephone number so that we can discuss “adult” child rearing in general. May I suggest that you always carry a large hammer in the bottom of your purse? It gives me a sense of security and is not as messy as pepper spray. When feeling uneasy I pull out the hammer and whack the palm of my hand. For some reason no one ever comments or bothers me. I not sure why, but it’s a good sign. Try it.
Hahaha, I love the self-hammer-hit move, TKOMom!
Ex, dear, the hammer comes in useful. “They” are kidnapping people directly off the Strip these days. Best to be prepared and ALWAYS remember–use valet parking: it’s only a 2 dollar tip!
wow dude. that’s just… that’s way too intense for a first date.
and i have to disagree with the brain doc. and i work with mental health patients for a living. i do agree with him in that, yes, i think it’s great he’s on his meds and go him for keeping at it, getting treatment, etc etc. but at the same time? YOU WERE ON A FIRST DATE. there’s a time and place for these things, that’s all. while i think it’s great he’s confident to be so…. OUT with his background and history, there’s such thing as a bit of a filter, leaving some things to be said later on, and not pushing someone away.
and also? THE DUDE DRANK BEER OUT OF A STRAW. and ordered a pina colada. AT AN IRISH PUB. i would have ordered a shot of whiskey right then and there.
and by “i do agree with him” i obviously meant HER! sorry!
First time I got a gin & tonic, I sipped it through the two stirring straws. This is what happens when you’re homeshooled since 2nd grade.
haha, I still see people do that sometimes. People who have been over the legal drinking age for years! I used to say nothing, but now I’ll make a little joke to try to put them back on track.
Oh, I totally do this. I’ve been mocked for it but I still do it. I have no idea why I’m so straw-ish. I like to think it’s because it’s easier to keep your lip gloss on with a straw.
Also, I hate tea but the one time a friend tried to make it for me I refused to drink it regularly and sipped via a straw because I was afraid it would be too hot. Then I kept making weird squealing noises when I sipped it anyway.
I’m an odd one.
LOL moment started at “Red Flags”, continued through “…surged into the lead.” How much of this really happened???
I vow to you that not only did this 100% happen, but several more equally “omg” moments occurred that I simply didn’t have space for. The dialogue is as verbatim as I could get it (didn’t want to jot notes at the table, but composed the entry immediately after getting home).
oh.my.goodness. that IS the craziest date EVER hands down. HAHA what an experience. Good thing you wore your granny panties, not that you needed to!
AS first dates go, it doesn’t matter how empathetic you were or were not, it was always going to be a challenge. Slightly too soft a word for it!
You don’t seem to be an unempathetic preson, love, so don’t feel like an a’hole.
Whilst the commenters are right that we should have a more understanding society about mental health issues – truth is we’re getting there. There’s a lot more education now than there ever was.
But if we think about it, if you don’t have a mental illness you can never truly understand what someone who does have one, is going through.
Like I said, tough first date, no doubt and you’re incompatible for a variety of reasons. Beer through a straw, in particular. But you felt for him and demonstrated that. So don’t apologise for being human and in particular don’t apologise for a humourous tale, even one with, sharp edges of controversy!
cheers
k
I just wanted to add after coming back and seeing the comments on mental illness.
As someone who has a mental illness, I can tell you deciding when is the appropriate time to tell people you’re dating about it is a really tough call, and one it often takes some time to figure out. If he just went on meds, then it’s probable that this whole being open about his illness thing is new territory for him.
Do I advise people with mental illnesses to disclose it on the first date? No, because then people (no offense, TKOG) slam you with their assumptions about what they think people with that mental illness are like instead of getting to know *you*. That said, some elements of whatever mental illness you have are going to be true about you, and a potential partner may be more understanding if they know it’s not your fault. To that end, they should know sooner rather than later. I generally say to tell somewhere around the 3rdish date, but not to make a big deal out of it.
Oh my God, what an awesome story. We have to hang out now because there’s no way that I can do worse than that guy. I don’t even like Pina Coladas!
I just found your blog, and I love it! Great idea and props to you for doing all these crazy things!
You are definitely NOT a jerkface. I agree with the above comments in that a less nice person probably would have ended the date sooner and on a meaner note. You probably boosted his confidence. :)
Maybe next time he shouldn’t disclose his mental disorder until at least the fourth or fifth date.. and myabe not order a frozen drink at an irish pub in the states… and maybe not talk to his mom during the date…. There are so many!
I LOVE THIS LINE: but the thing is, you can’t like people just because the world would be a sweeter place if you did. I think all you can do is be nice and try to be an okay person.
You said it amazingly well. So many times I feel guilty for not liking the people I don’t like. But honestly, what can be done?
I can’t pick which is worse..him answering his mother’s call or ordering Pina Colada.
He drinks beer with a straw. Pass. Instant pass. Mental illness cannot justify drinking beer with a straw. That was clearly his mother’s doing.
On the other hand, as one said above, instant disclosure about mental illnesses/mother issues is rather a plus, instead of finding out about either on… say, your wedding night. Silver lining, m’dear.
Oh lordy.
This… is awkward. Kind of makes me glad I’m not actively dating right now… although then I don’t get fun stories to tell.
Also! In speaking for/on behalf of the mental-illness crowd – granted, depression/anxiety isn’t QUITE in the same category as bipolarism, BUT. I wasn’t offended. You weren’t all OMG HE IS MENTALLY ILL RUNAWAY, it was more of the oh-so-awkward way of him just bluntly announcing “by the way, I’m crazy!” I mean, who does that? Even if I were to decide to discuss my issues, it definitely it wouldn’t be on a first date, and it DEFINITELY wouldn’t be that early in a first date. There would have had to have been a lot of booze consumed first. So, no, I don’t think you were coming across as insensitive, nor did I even remotely read it that way. Instead, all I registered was “oh. poor girl.” And, of course: awkward. So very, very awkward.
Also? “Yes Mom, I’m out with a REAL GIRL.” Classic.
I hope you have recovered from this. :)
Thanks for stopping by. I feel bad for taking so long to return the favour. Especially seeing as I had a good laugh (kind of at your expense.. but not REALLY.. I mean, I was laughing with you.. right?)
I guess that’s the good thing about bad dates for bloggers. If nothing else, it makes a great blog post. And this is one of the worst dates I’ve seen blogged about.
This is probably a douchey thought, but what if he was faking it all? I know plenty of guys that if not interested in a girl would pretend to be crazy to prevent any possible attachment. I can just picture this guy planning with a friend before hand to call him and make it seem like he was talking to his mom. Is that awful of me?
well, i drink no-traditional drinks out of straws, specifically ay coffee’s that come in those cups with the lids. 1 i like that the drink cools a bit in the straw, and 2 i hate the sippy lids.
i think i would have bugged out at the “real girl” comment. i mean who says that. it is a little to heavy to mention the lithium so early in the date.
I read this post while on the red line yesterday (viva la BlackBerry), and I just about died. DIED. Poor soul, with the Lithium Coolada adult beverage. Then as I put my phone back into my purse, the redhead sitting in front of me looks to her date and says “Yeah, she’s like, MY age! Can you imagine how her MOM must feel about her going to Mexico with that guy!?” Date says “Um, no, I can’t imagine…” and redhead says “…Will you take ME to Mexico!?!?!” At which point I disembarked, and found it ironic that bad dates seem to follow this post everywhere it goes.
Aw man, I’m sorry it didn’t work out. But hey, you got a story out of it!
Also, I know what bar you were at. One of my favorites, and I know a few of the bartenders. Now I kind of want to ask them about the guy who ordered the pina colada …
The concept behind your blog makes me swoon.
Daring, sexy, woman.
I’ve been on some bad dates. I may have even been on some worse dates than that. But dude actually admitted to being CRAZY. That’s hard to beat.
Until you read my lovely Gofahne’s porchop story…because OH. My. God.
http://gofahneroad.blogspot.com/2009/10/you-havent-had-bad-date-until-pork-chop.html
That post is AMAZING! Thanks for linking it!
I feel a very sincere kinship to you right now, as I saw you just read about from Shine’s link. It’s a scary world out there with dating, but it really does pay off every now and again. And when it doesn’t, you have an incredible story. The WORST part to me is when they actually feel it’s gone WELL. How, how is that possible?
I’ve been thinking about this for DAYS. If I was as sad as this poor dude, I might order drinks with umbrellas in them too. I don’t know who I felt worse for: you, him, or his mom.
haha, I hadn’t thought about that, but it’s true: maybe dude deserves those tiny umbrellas.
My vote for worst-off goes to his poor mom. Imagine having to call your son and demand verbal confirmation that the people he’s hanging out with are real! Sigh. At least he has pleasant memories to look back to, of the few days he could read people’s minds.