Sorry, I'm Not a Cougar

I've been having some strange run-ins with younger guys, which, to appreciate, you will need to have a few pieces of background information about me:

1) I look really young for my age. This is partly because I am an Asian female with great genetics (my parents both still look decades younger than they actually are). And yes, people tell me all the time that I should be happy about it and I'll be thankful for it in about ten years. But for now, I absolutely hate it. My parents regularly get asked when I'm going to graduate high school, to which they respond that I graduated high school over a decade ago and soon I will be teaching high school. Speaking of teaching, it's hard to gain your students' respect when you look young enough to be their peer. The other day I was talking to one of my middle school students and her mom, and the mother confessed ten minutes into the conversation that when she'd met me, she hadn't known if I was a student or a teacher. So basically, despite the fact that I am 28, I still get mistaken for a 14 year old. Not good.

2) Since I had no social life to speak of last semester, when my friend S sent me an experimental dating site for our school, I decided to try it out. The site was like Match.com, but specifically for university students, who you could filter by school, so hypothetically you could meet someone at your school. I only went out with one guy that I met from the site, Blah Boy, and as much as I hated him, that turned out to be one of the better experiences.

Finally, 3) I have no interest in dating younger guys. When I was growing up, I always dated guys my own age or older. In my early twenties, I had a long-term relationship with someone two years younger and it raised a bevy of issues. He wasn't mature enough for me; he was at a different point in his life than I was; his mom still called to ask him about his bowel movements (ok that one may have had nothing to do with his age and more to do with the fact that he was a douchebag and a mama's boy). However, since then, I have never dated another younger guy. I have friends who like younger guys and their naivete, but I have no tolerance for it whatsoever.

Ok, now that you have all that information, I can finally proceed with my story.

When I signed up for that college dating site, even though I specified in my profile that I was only interested in guys my own age or older, I started getting e-mails and instant messages from neophytes right away. Apparently, since I look young, they decided to ignore my age restrictions.

The first time, it was a 19 year old sophomore at Columbia University, who wrote me and we had the following conversation:

Idiot Sophomore: So do you want to grab a drink sometime?

Me: Can you even go to bars?

Idiot Sophomore: Yeah, of course.

Me: No, I mean legally.

Idiot Sophomore: Oh. No.

Me: Yeah that's what I thought. I think I'm a little too old for you. (This was my tactful way of telling him that he was far too young for me, hoping he would get the hint.)

Idiot Sophomore: Don't worry. I've had older.

Me: Um. Lovely.

Idiot Sophomore: Well then why don't we just skip the bar and go straight to my bed?

Me: Ha. That's cute. Really. Classy too. Sorry, I'm not remotely interested.

At that point, I blocked him.

A few weeks later, another 19 year old, this time one from NYU started messaging me.

Idiot Freshman: Hey, how's it going?

Me: Good. Look, sorry, I don't mean to be blunt, but you're way too young for me.

Idiot Freshman: What do you mean?

Me: Honestly, you're only slightly older than the kids that I teach and quite frankly, that grosses me out.

Idiot Freshman: Well, what I lack in age, I make up for in life experience and maturity.

Me: Yeah, no offense, but I probably thought the same thing when I was your age, a decade ago. And no amount of "life experience" at 19 would be enough for me to consider going out with you.

Idiot Freshman: Well what do you like to do for fun?

Me: Seriously, I don't know any other way to say this. I am not interested. This is a no go. To me, you are as datable as a baby in the womb.

After that, he got the message and I never heard from him again.

Maybe it's because I'm getting older. Maybe it's because I'm teaching now. Maybe it's because I have a younger sister and have never been able to reconcile dating someone her age. Whatever it is, I cannot wrap my mind around dating, or even hooking up with, someone even a few years younger than I am. I've been tempted, especially since my cousin who is five years my junior has some especially adorable friends. Literally every time I hang out with him one of his friends ends up hooking up with one of my friends, who later bemoan having hooked up with such young'uns.

The other night I went to a friend of a friend's house party and when I was there I met an incredibly attractive guy, who I was talking to for a little while before I found out that he was a senior in college who is interning in New York City for the summer. He had just turned 21. And despite the fact that he was really cute with very blue eyes and a sexy accent, the second I found out how young he was, I instantly lost my lady hard on. After that, I wasn't remotely interested in him any more, which was a real shame.

So yes, this is apparently what my future looks like. I will have to decide between staying home and knitting socks for my cats every night or I will just have to accept becoming a cougar and start accepting the advances of guys a decade younger.

Hot Child in the City

I think summer does something to people. As soon as the temperature starts to rise, everyone's animal instincts kick in and they collectively go wild like bears that have been trapped in a cave hibernating all winter.

Last summer, I remember around April when it was getting to be warm enough to go outside at night without needing a jacket, every time I went out on the weekends I would pass at least one drunk guy puking on the side of a building. In May people started staying out later and being rowdier. And in June my girlfriends started getting laid. It was definitely summer.

So one weekend last July my girlfriend in DC, L, asked if she could come to the city because she had just broken up with her boyfriend and needed to let loose, and I told her she was coming to the right place. We made an agreement that during the length of the weekend, she needed to make out with five guys.

I told her five guys would definitely be a stretch, but I was looking forward to seeing her make out with four hot guys and one weird one. The weird one would of course occur at 4AM on Saturday when no one was seeing clearly and the options were limited. I was pretty excited on behalf of this one weird guy because I'm pretty sure making out with a hot Asian girl would make his entire year.

Well after Friday night when the count was at zero, L decided to reevaluate the situation and changed the goal to make out with only one guy, if that. Which was a huge disappointment and as Saturday night wore on and no making out occurred, it started to look like it would be zero.

However, around 2AM when things started to get fuzzy, I looked over to see L totally engrossed in "conversation" with a guy at the bar. And by conversation, I mean they were blatantly making out and he was squeezing her ass and running his hands through her hair with gusto.

And of course, because that's what you do when one of your friends is putting on a ridiculous public display, I alerted everyone else to what was going on and we just sat there and watched them.

This was only partly out of morbid curiosity; of course we wanted to make sure she was ok. But it was implied that the second we left the bar, at its 4AM closing time, that the young man would go on his way and L would come home with me.

Instead, drunk L decided it would be a good idea to have him follow us around to get our late-night drunk pizza. And in our few-block trek to said late-night pizza place, we had to keep stopping to make sure she wasn't abducted, only to find her get thrown into a phone booth to make out. (I know, the hygenic concerns alone were disturbing.)

At 4:30, as everyone else started to make their way home and I was thoroughly exhausted, I finally went to tell L it was time to go home. And this is what ensued:

Me: Ok hon it's time to go home.

L: Now? Give me a little longer.

Me: No it's already 4:30 in the morning and everyone else has gone home. It's time to go.

L: Just a little longer!

Me: Nope, now.

L: Well, can he come?

Me: Absolutely not.

L: A little longer. I promise that I won't go back to his place.

Me: So you're just going to stand here on a sketchy street corner by the Queens Expressway? I think not.

L: Well then can I get his phone number?

Me: Are you kidding me? You don't live here!

L: So?

Me: So you're never going to see or speak to him again!

All the while this conversation was happening, I kept trying to walk L away from the dude down the street but she kept turning around and motioning for him to follow. This was obviously infuriating. At this point I had my guy friend M hail a cab, get in it, and leave the door open.

Me: (in my best annoyed mom voice) That's enough L. It's time to go home. Get in the cab.

L: Really?

Me: Really, I'm starting to get pissed at you now. Get in the fucking cab.

(To the guy): It was nice meeting you but we're going home now. Good night.

L: Don't be mad.

Me: I won't be mad if you get in the cab.

L: I just want to hang out a little longer.

Me: Well that's great but you have no idea where you are and it's almost 5AM and you're my responsibility tonight so you're getting in the cab.

At this point, I forcibly shoved her into the cab and climbed in on the other side of her so that she couldn't escape.

The dude finally gave up trying to follow us and convince me that it was safe to leave L with him for the night, gave me the dirtiest look I have ever seen (seriously, if looks could kill, I would've dropped dead right there), and then stomped off in a huff. Clearly I ruined his night.

L: I wasn't going to sleep with him!

Me: That's fantastic that you think that, but that's definitely not what he was thinking so I wasn't going to let you go home with him.

L: But I wouldn't have gone home with him!

Me: Fine, wander the streets in the middle of the night with a stranger, that's even worse.

L: But he liked me and he wanted ass.

Me: Of course he wanted ass, he's a dude, and that is irrelevant. You are dumb.

L: But he was so hot!

Me: No he wasn't, he was pseudo attractive in the bar but the second we left you could see his acne. And he was sketchy.

M agreed with my assessment by nodding.

L: Really? I thought he was hot.

Me: That's because you're drunk. Now be quiet.

Yes, I know I come off like a bitch but really I was just looking out for her best interests and protecting her. And if I learned one thing from this experience, it's that someday I am going to be an awesome mom. Hopefully the situations will be more like, "No you're not getting a toy today for your behavior now get in the car and I will deal with you when we get home" instead of, "No you don't get to stay out all night with a sketchy guy from the bar now get in the cab and I will deal with you when we get home."

Either way, you don't want me to get all Mama Bear on your ass. So behave yourself.

Dating's So Blah

You'd think with the lack of dating and available men in my life, my standards would be lower. It turns out that the opposite has happened: now I have such little tolerance for another person that the smallest things annoy me and I start internally raging the second someone says something remotely irksome.

My first date with Blah Boy was ok. It wasn't great, but it also wasn't the worst date in the world, which is saying a lot since it was a blind date. Granted, I had low expectations going in, but the conversation flowed easily and he wasn't a total troll. I figured out about halfway through that there wasn't a spark and I wasn't really attracted to him, but also know from experience that sometimes that takes time, so I was willing to go out with him again, but was already plotting how to maneuver out of an end-of-date kiss. Luckily for me, it was pouring rain, practically typhooning that night, and when he put me in a cab, he was unable to maneuver a kiss while trying to keep his umbrella from flying away.

Within two minutes of getting in the cab, I got a text that said, "I had such a great time and hope you did too. Let's do it again really soon :)"

I. Hate. This. I was already trying to evaluate if I was even into him and if I wanted to see him again and right away he put it out there. The text translated into, "I am so into you even though you might not be into me. Please please please please see me again."

I sent him a vague noncommittal text the following day to which he responded, "I'm going away next week for spring break, so can I take you to dinner on Sunday before I leave?"

Me: I have a friend coming into town this weekend, so on Sunday I have a pile of papers to grade.

Blah Boy: But you have to eat, don't you? Just take a break with me :)

First of all, seriously, what is up with all the emoticons? Is there anything more emasculating that one can do in a text? Second of all, I said I had work to do. Asking me again isn't going to make me any more inclined to go out with you. In fact, it's pissing me off, which makes me never want to see you again.

Me: I really can't. I have that much work to do.

Blah Boy: Ok, how about when I'm back from spring break? Are you free a week from Saturday?

Me: I'm not sure. Let's play it by ear.

The odds weren't looking good for him.

However, when I relayed this to all my friends, they said that he was just being eager and since I had nothing else going on in my life, what did I really have to lose.

So that's how I found myself on a second date with him two weeks later, which is great, because it gave me the opportunity to truly and actively abhor him.

Let me say here that there was nothing really wrong with Blah Boy and all that is about to happen was not malicious in any way. He was not a douchebag, not an asshole (I know, rare for me); he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Unfortunately, he was also kind of a rube from upstate New York, who grew up pretty sheltered, is a few years younger than me, and just didn't seem to have much experience with life/girls/normal people in general. So here are some of the highlights of the night:

Blah Boy: So how are things going at school?

Me: Good! I have a ton of work to do, but I really do love it. I even missed the kids during spring break.

Blah Boy: (laughs) That's so nerdy!

Me: Ummmm ok...

Blah Boy: Sorry I was late. I'm so tired because I was out til 4AM last night.

Me: Seriously? What were you doing?

Blah Boy: Went out for happy hour with some people from school and we just got a little crazy.

Me: Wow. I went out to happy hour with school friends too, but I was home by 9 and in bed by 11.

Blah Boy: Really? That's so lame.

Me: (getting defensive) Um, we are all teachers who have to be at school by 8, teach all day, and then have class at night. It's really exhausting.

Blah Boy: Yeah ok.

Me: Soooo...do you live alone or do you have roommates?

Blah Boy: I have two roommates. I could never live alone.

Me: Really? I love it.

Blah Boy: No, I'm the kind of person that always needs to be around other people, so I need people to be there to talk to when I come home.

Me: O...K....yeah I really like being alone.

Blah Boy: Really? That's so weird.

Me: I don't think so. I like my independence. As I've gotten older, I've craved more and more alone time.

Blah Boy: Huh.

Me: Yeah I haven't had a roommate since college. I had a bad experience and have lived alone since.

Blah Boy: Really, what happened?

Me: I moved in with a good friend of mine and we just did not get alone and by the end of the year, we actively disliked each other and haven't spoken since. It ruined our friendship, so now I'm much more cautious about that. I think when you live together, little quirks get on your nerves that don't bother you as much when you're just friends.

Blah Boy: Seriously? That is the weirdest thing I've ever heard.

Me: How so?

Blah Boy: I have never heard of two girls getting into a fight that led them to not be friends anymore.

Me: Are you kidding me? Do you know girls?

Blah Boy: Yeah...the girls I know don't do that.

So at this point, not only did I want to claw his eyes out, I was starting to think that I was the crazy one. Later, when I recapped the conversation with all of my girlfriends and my sister E (who, if anyone, would be the one to never get into a fight with a girl that would end their friendship) and unanimously they all agreed that he has never interacted with females. Otherwise, he would know that girls quite often get into fights that lead to the end of friendships.

After this date, I was not at all inclined to ever see Blah Boy again. During the course of one dinner, he managed to make me feel stupid for liking my job, being tired after teaching all day, and getting into fights with a roommate a decade ago. On top of all of this, I found him to be pretty boring and one-dimensional.

Somehow, despite the awkwardness of this date, he thought it had gone pretty well. The next day, he texted me to tell me what a great time he'd had and how he couldn't wait to see me again and added me as a friend on Facebook. When he received no responses from either of these venues, he texted again to ask me what my plan for the week was. I also ignored this text.

After that, he got the point, and I haven't heard from Blah Boy since.

And that has been the extent of my dating experiences in the past six months. Thank God it's summer.

Finally, the Livin is Easy

So I realize I've been on an extended blogging hiatus, but I severely underestimated how much my life was going to change once I started school. My first semester, my entire life was dominated by classes and papers. This past semester, I was not only taking classes, but student teaching at a middle school as well. So my schedule looked something like this: during the week I taught all day then went to class at night and on weekends I wrote papers and lesson plans and graded papers.

As a result of this crazy schedule and constant exhaustion, not to mention the fact that any time I did have interactions with normal adults all I could talk about was my students, I did not have much of a social life this past year. In fact, this past semester, I can count on one hand the amount of times I went out with my friends.

Although this probably sounds severely depressing and you're probably feeling bad for me, I have to say that it wasn't as terrible as it sounds. There were a few nights when I had mini-meltdowns, thinking that I would never finish grading all the papers I had to do and I was never going to see my friends again, but for the most part it was the most fulfilling few months of my adult life.

Anyways, since I was too busy to even think of writing and I had no material to write about to begin with, the blog took a backseat. But now that it's summer time and I am on vacation for three months, I'm hoping that I will actually have a life now and enough blogworthy experiences to make up for the dearth of a social life this past year.

My (limited) dating experiences for the past six months are gonna have to wait until next week, though, so make sure you tune in.

And the Livin is Easy

Today being the equinox, the longest day of the year, (and the anniversary of my sister's birth), it marks the official beginning of summer. Which seems to be an arbitrary distinction since New York has already seen half a dozen days in the 90 degree range, but whatever.

And since that means I'll be spending more time by the pool and out of town (and later in the summer in Europe for a few glorious weeks), it means that I will have less time with my computer. So, unfortunately, I will be taking a summer hiatus from blogging weekly, but worry not because if anything blogworthy comes along, I will definitely be throwing it up.

In the meantime, happy equinox and summer to everyone! And a very happy 23rd birthday to the little one out west!

It's A Girl!

In honor of Father's Day, I am going to tell the story of how the men in my family became fathers, particularly my own dad and my grandparents.

Now, my parents were immigrants from Taiwan and my sister and I are the first generation of Taiwanese-Americans in our family. So a lot of the customs that my parents grew up with have been lost with us. But one them has been particularly pervasive in our lives.

Patriarchy, aka girls are worthless.

My grandfather on my mother's side is a very successful tycoon in Taiwan, so after he reached a level of success in business, all he wanted was a son to pass his name, legacy, and business onto. Unfortunately for him the first offspring was a daughter (my mother) as were the subsequent four girls. At the fifth girl, my youngest aunt, when the nurse told my grandmother, "It's a girl!" my grandmother literally burst into tears at the prospect of having another child.

Because there really was no other option. My grandfather was (and still is) he patriarch of the family so if he wanted a son, a son was what he was getting. Eleven years after giving birth to my mom, with four other daughters in between, they finally had a son, the son who would carry on the family name and who would be the proud offspring that would care for them in their old age and bring the family pride. It's almost like the story of Henry VIII, except with fewer beheadings.

Except...my uncle JoJo was so spoiled throughout his life that he is now 41 and unemployed, never having had a job in his life, and his wife and three children all live on a stipend from my grandfather. I'm not still not sure what the kids say when their friends ask what their parents do for a living. "Grandpa sends Daddy checks every month because he was born a boy?"

Not that I don't love JoJo. He is far and away my favorite uncle, partly because he lived with us when we were growing up and since he was only 13 years older than me, he always seemed more like an older brother than an uncle to me. Just as now, I feel much more like an aunt to his three children than their cousin, especially given that I am 24 years older than the youngest.

My aunts were not given any of this special treatment and have all turned out to be successful women with families of their own. I think it's pretty awesome that they have all become successful in their own right with minimal help from my grandfather, whereas JoJo is a homemaker for his kids and doesn't have to work since he was born with a penis.

No, I find this whole patriarchy nonsense kind of hilarious, because if you look at it any other way it really is just tragic. So I just listen to this kind of stuff and laugh. But my sister E, oh my crusader the sister E, thinks this is the most unfair thing ever and gets heated up when we discuss JoJo's situation. She wants to sit down our grandfather (once again, the patriarch of our clan), wag her finger in his face, and say, "Well, I hope you have learned your lesson that spoiling your son does not amount to anything good."

I'm sure he'll be quite receptive when she gives him that piece of her mind. I just can't wait to watch.

So the next reasonable assumption is that my parents were hoping for at least one boy in their family. My paternal side was hoping for a male to carry on our family name and my maternal side just wanted a boy because boys are better than girls. (Duh.) They got pregnant only about a year after getting married and even though my parents were struggling immigrant graduate school students, they were ecstatic to have a baby and never considered any other options but keeping it.

Since they hadn't lived in the country long enough to even have health insurance, my mother skipped any sonograms that were available at the time and they opted to wait to find out the sex of the baby. Her mother (my grandmother) and my uncle JoJo flew out a week before her due date to be there when the baby was born. After all, it was to be the firstborn of the new generation, the eldest child of the eldest daughter.

So, on this momentous occasion, they were all crossing their fingers that a healthy boy would be born. And out pops, well, me. It was the first in a long series of woes I would bring to my parents.

My grandmother wasn't allowed in the delivery room, so through the glass window of the waiting area my father had to convey to my grandmother what sex the baby was. So he chose a thumbs down. And my grandma's face fell.

That's right. All those hopes, all those dreams, all that time out the birthing canal, and all I got at the end of that long ride was a thumbs down because I didn't have a penis.

Eventually, they all came to terms with the fact that I was a girl (kind of) and found other things to criticize instead, like the fact that I had naturally dark skin (like the farmers' kids do), and that I was extraordinarily fussy as a child, so much so that I wouldn't let anyone but my mother or JoJo carry me. And later I would start hitting, biting, and throwing fits, but that's a story for another time.

Four years later, my little sister was born, putting an end to my parents' attempts at continuing the family name. Unfortunately, my father's only brother had three girls, so my paternal grandfather is devastated that we are the end of the line.

My mother claims that my father is happy that he had two daughters, but I find it highly suspect that there isn't an ounce of disappointment that he didn't have a son to pass his genes and name onto. I'm pretty sure that this is why my parents chopped all my hair off when I was six and I was mistaken for a boy for the entirety of first grade.

So, sorry Dad, on this Father's Day, I apologize again for being born female (and for being so adamant that I only wanted a little sister, not a brother, which obviously had an impact on the outcome). But I leave you with this tidbit of wisdom, which I am hoping my sister will also impart to our grandfathers:

Girls rule.
Boys Drool.

Oh, So Awkward

So last weekend at S's birthday party, I had another run-in with the most awkward man alive.

Just to recap, I met this awkward specimen a few months ago, when he stunned me with his new levels of awkward conversation. Then he attended my birthday party and suggested we get together while we were both in California.

We texted back and forth while we were both in San Francisco, but never ended up meeting up since I was busy finding a giant donut with my sister. Strangely enough, he even called me one Saturday night at 2AM, which I would usually take to be a booty call. But considering he was staying with his parents and I was crashing at my sister's, that would've been out of the question. Which just makes me think it was another awkward maneuver.

So I was excited to catch up with Awkward when I saw him at S's party. And surprisingly, he seemed excited to see me too. He gave me a very friendly greeting and hug and then proceeded to once again display his unprecedented power to bring conversations to a standstill.

Me: Congratulations on graduating from law school! How's bar studying going?

Awkward: Studying?

Me: Yeah, you know, for that big exam you have to take to practice law...Didn't you start taking the class this week?

Awkward: Oh yeah, the class started, but I don't need to study.

Me: Errrr...why?

Awkward: Because I'm brilliant.

This was said with no irony or facetiousness whatsover, which led to a brief uncomfortable silence.

Me: Sooo...have you gotten placed at the law firm yet? Because someone else mentioned they're having trouble reaching them.

Awkward: What do you mean?

Me: I guess they're not picking up his phone calls?

Awkward: Oh, they always pick up my phone calls. I'm really important.

Another beat.

At this point, I excused myself and found my friend R to roll my eyes at her and ask if he could possibly be for real.

"Yeah he seems really full of himself, and not in a kidding way," R said. "I had no idea what was going on over there, but it looked like he was hitting on you."

I laughed her off: "No, no way. I think it's literally impossible for him to be interested in me."

"No seriously, he was leaning into you and standing close to you. I think he might really have been hitting on you."

I figured she had to be mistaken until I passed him again and he stopped me to ask me, concerned, "You're not leaving are you?"

Which, unless it's coming from the mouth of someone you're actually friends with, is boy-code for, "I hope you're not going anywhere because I'd really like to spend some time with you and bang later tonight, or at the very least drunkenly make out in the corner of the bar."

I told him I was just going to the bathroom and since I was a few drinks deep at this point, figured there wouldn't be any harm in trying to talk to him again.

Boy, was I wrong.

Awkward: Are you excited to start at that shithole school?

Me: You mean the school you just got your law degree from and that I start in the fall? Yes, I'm pretty excited.

Awkward: Why?

Me: Because I am really looking forward to going back to school. What do you have against it?

Awkward: I don't know. I guess in the law school it was just a bunch of Type-A, arrogant, competitive assholes all trying to get ahead.

Me: Um, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that describe you to a tee?

Awkward: Exactly! That's why I hated everyone there. You can only have one of those types in a crowd and there were just too many there that I had to compete against!

Me: I see...

Awkward: Plus they were all socially backward and awkward.

Me: Once again, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that also describe you?

Awkward: No! I'm not awkward at all!

Me: Um, sure.

Awkward: Just because I have strong opinions and voice them in dissenting crowds which makes me unpopular doesn't make me awkward.

Me: No...but that doesn't really help.

Awkward: What are you talking about? I'm not awkward!

Me: I have to be honest with you. I think you're one of the most awkward people alive.

Awkward: Most. Awkward. Person. Alive?!?! There's no way. S, do you think I'm awkward.

S: I love you, but you really are the most awkward person I've ever met.

Me: Ha, see?

Awkward: No way!

At this point, he asked another one of their coworkers if he is awkward to which the guy answered without even thinking about it, "Yes, absolutely."

I had previously thought that awkward people have to know that they're awkward, like it's some sort of self-awareness that you couldn't possibly miss, like fat girls knowing that they're fat and short guys knowing that they're short. But my major mistake was forgetting the Spare Tire Girls in college.

You see, my college was notorious for having heinous girls (which it did), which gave some of the ugly girls a distorted self-image where they thought they were much prettier than they were. Which led to a lot of fat girls wearing way too little clothing. Seriously, as soon as spring hit, there were eyesores everywhere. It was painful.

The worst were the Spare Tire Girls, who had giant rolls of fat around their waists but due to their sorority sisters saying, "Nooo you can totally pull that off. You look hot!" would walk around wearing shirts that were many sizes too small. Instead of hiding their spare tires, this would have the opposite effect of flaunting their bulges to the maximum. Just thinking about it today gives me the chills.

Anyways, apparently awkwardness works the same way. And although we thought it was common knowledge that Awkward is so awkward it makes your teeth hurt, he had been in the dark. He proceeded to rant about it for some time and turn to the gay guys in the crowd for consolation.

They petted him on the head and assured him that they didn't think he was awkward at all (false), and before we knew it he had left without saying good-bye to any of us. With the gay guys.

My friend T, being the friend that he is, turned to me and said, "Did he just choose a bunch of gay guys over you? That is a BURN! I can see the disappointment all over your face. Do you need a hug?"

I hotly replied, "I'm not disappointed or upset! I just think it's strange that he left without saying bye!"

"It's ok. I know that you're upset that you just got ditched for guys. You let me know if you need that hug."

I know I probably injured Awkward's ego by calling him out for being in awkward in public but I really thought that he knew.

Especially since after leaving with a bunch of gay guys after possibly expressing interest makes it even more awkward than it was before, which I previously had not thought was remotely possible!

It just goes to show you, just when you think you've seen it all, some fat girl with her gut hanging out of her XS tee or an awkward guy will always prove you wrong.