I’m so sorry about this post. It really got away from me. Don’t read it. Or only read the end. The end is pretty funny.
Dating in law school is absurd. Or maybe just dating in your mid-twenties. Or maybe just dating me. Whatever. That shit is treacherous.
Just last night I went on a date before which I accidentally sent the text, “See you soon : (” which he thought was a cute little texting error to tease me about for the rest of the night, but that I thought was a Freudian slip. And then I cut the shit out of my asshole shaving, so then whole date I couldn’t find a comfortable way to sit and I was all squirmy. Plus I was running too late to get in any drinks before I left the house.
I drink now before dates.
This is terrifying. My second biggest fear after falling because fuck you roller coasters and eternal abysses.
Okay wait. Let me rewind. Dating in law school is absurd. First of all, due to the whole middle school gossip mill thing, it’s pretty advisable to not date people actually in your law school. Second of all, dating non-lawschoolers while in law school is not any better. My friend Lisa says that if a guy can stick by you through law school you’re not allowed to leave him anymore, because he’s put up with utter insanity and assholeness. On top of all of that there’s the whole “law school hot” thing, which I think is intended to mean that the pool of people in law school are less hot than the average hotness of people in general, but I think should also mean that if someone is hot in law school they’re also probably socially retarded.
So you’re cool with me putting on an adult diaper and calling you Mommy right?
I have been on one date with one law school person. Oh wait. No. I’ve been on two because apparently I don’t learn, but this story is about the first guy.
It was this past summer and I was working at an organization in a city. The summer program was fairly large, as was the office, so we were split into two separate groups geographically speaking. There was this hot guy I met on the first day who worked in the other group. He was tall, with green eyes, and dirty blond hair.
Let me tell you about his hair. It was thick, and just the perfect length with that swooshy Edward from Twilight style that a girl can just picture grabbing on to. I was super excited when he asked me out our first day until I immediately started getting hourly text messages.
Is this clingy? No way, this is totally normal. Also? EMOTICOOONNSS WOOOOOO!!
I get out of the date by claiming illness, and then steadfastly ignoring his texts. It was the right choice because I soon learn that he is one of those hot guys that’s sort of aware that he’s hot, but was also always in the top of the class, so kind of a nerd, and so he comes off as both douchey and also completely incapable of having a normal, flowing conversation.
But then my friend Haley came to one of our happy hours and he starts making comments about how I totally stood him up and it’s been awkward ever since, and she thought she was doing me a favor by encouraging the date with this hot guy and she obviously wasn’t noticing my “shut the fuck up” face.
Yea, totally Google Image. This is def what I meant when I searched “shut the fuck up face.”
The conversation ended with,
Me: That SO never happened. I would LOVE to go on that date. Thursday? Yea totally. Let’s do it.
At this point I have to go on this date where it’s either just going to be uncomfortable or I’m going to get raped and murdered. One of those two things. To mitigate the awkward I open my freezer, find that all I have around is some left over Malibu from God knows what girly party I had, and I start chugging.
It worked. An hour later we’re at an outdoor bar and between the alcohol making him a little more normal, although still shifty eyed, and me being drunk and caring less, now I was way more into his hair than his douchiness.
Me: So yea. I’ve taken a lot of like clinics and practicums, etc. because it’s the only time I feel like I’m learning something in law school, you know?
Him: Yea definitely. That’s why I’m always yelling at my professors. It’s like they can’t get anything right.
Huh? Are we having the same conversation? Just focus on the hair.
And then just when I thought it was getting hopeless, I got a sext. I’m a total proponent of sexting, and I have a few guys around the country that I use solely for that purpose. It’s fun, and it’s guilt free. This guy had never sexted me before, but I wasn’t surprised either. I started paying attention to Work Guy less and less because Sext Guy was actually way better at this than I expected, but kind of acrobatic so I really needed to pay attention. And then, unfortunately, this happened:
Me: Sorry for all the texting. My little sister is going through boyfriend drama, and she gets kind of needy.
Work Guy: Oh gotcha. No problem.
And then I must have stared at a text a little too intensely because he asked,
Work Guy: Is everything okay?
Me: Yea, I just can’t tell what position we’re in anymore.
I mean . . . what position they’re in . . . Like . . . If they can even salvage their love after everything he’s put her through. You know?
That was our one and only date.