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Don’t Call me “Babe.”

The text messages you see below are from a gentleman with whom I shared a single, awkward encounter. None of what happened here is okay. Sure, it’s awesome when you receive a friendly text message from a suitor of interest. However, it is not awesome to get your phone blown up after meeting someone ONE time.Inapropriate text messages from a boy I just met

This kind of texting is especially not okay if the ONE encounter you had with the sender went something like- you have a conversation with reasonably good-looking person, you tell them you aren’t interested in dating because you’re only recently single, then, after some persuasion, you reluctantly hand over the digits. Nothing about that exchange should make you think “this girl must be super into me and probably wants to have a full-blown text message conversation at 5am.” Of course, I did the logical thing, which was nothing. I did not respond to this guy even once, but for some reason this did not detour him from expressing his feelings, asking about my current status, and calling me a pet name.

On top of the crazy-aspect of this series of messages, calling me “babe” was inappropriate. Even if our meeting had been magical, love-at-first-sight material, calling me such a name would be a deal-breaker. That term of endearment only makes me laugh and assume the person is an airhead- a reaction caused by my love of the show, Daria.Annoying Couples, MTV, 90s, mike judge, babe, cheerleader, football player, stereotypes [Note- On the show, Daria’s two dumbest classmates were Kevin, the football player, and Brittany, the cheerleader. Of course, because of their mutual love of football, these two people were an item and CONSTANTLY call each other “babe”] Therefore, as silly as it might be, if I hear couples refer to one another as “babe,” I immediately assume that they are stupid or, if I know them well enough to know they are bright, I mock them for sounding unintelligent.

brittany-kevin-jake-daria-fabulously-awkward-girl-babe-texts, boobs, high school, 90sAnyway, back to my point….I ended up getting more than 10 texts from this guy before he realized my lack of response should result in him discontinuing all communication. Thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with calling my cellphone service provider to block his number. That would not only have been inconvenient, but would also lead to me wondering if he had been blocked by other women and, if so, how many!? I mean we met ONCE and it wasn’t even that great. That makes me highly concerned about what he’s like when he actually has a smooth interaction with a person of the opposite sex.

All of this taught me an important lesson about giving out my phone number to awkward strangers. And, if in the future I get declined after asking for a man’s number, I’ll know it’s because I’m awkward and he’s afraid I’ll blow his phone up and tell him when I’m not sleeping.

Post Summary: Don’t be crazy.

 

I Must REALLY Love Shoes…?

Today I dedicated an entire page on this blog to my dog. Yes, I’m one of THOSE people who is entirely too pleased with my tail-wagging sidekick. I also have an entire Facebook album dedicated to said beast, but at least have the consideration to make it only available to myself. Not everyone cares about the absurd level of my animal’s cuteness…knowing that makes me a better person than many frequenters of the book of faces.

walking dog, snaggletooth, schubert on a leash

Looking back, I can’t blame the man for wanting to know everything about this adorable snaggletooth.

Creating this page made me think back to an interesting conversation I had in my building a couple of weeks ago. It was early on a Sunday morning and I found myself in a familiarly awkward Sabbath Day situation. While I was heading out for my morning dog walk wearing gym shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops, the other riders were headed to whatever local cathedral dressed in their Sunday finest. This situation is always the cause of some discomfort simply because I’m usually expecting them to give me a disapproving face of some kind and 86% of the time that is what happens.

As I was doing my best to avoid eye contact and thinking about how amazing I’d be at starting a religion, I noticed that Schubert was getting some always appreciated attention from the gentleman in this group. Smiling at the man apparently sent an open invitation for him to ask a series of questions about my monster…

Church Man: “What kind of dog is this!?”

Me: “Oh, I adopted him from a shelter, so am not really sure.”

Church Man: “He looks like a Chihuahua on stilts!”

Me: [awkward, half-smile] “Yeah, I tell people he’s a ‘Chi-Whippet’ because he’s got the build of a mini greyhound.”

Church Man: “He sure does! What’s his name?”

Me: “Schubert”

Church Man: [big chuckle] “Wow, girl…you must REALLY love shoes!”

Me: [involuntary face of disgust] “Yeahhhh….have a nice day.”

shoe shelf, room, shelving, shoes, messy room

I actually do greatly enjoy shoes. This poor-quality photo shows shelving dedicated entirely to my shoes.

Now, should I have corrected the man’s assumption that I named my pet after an infatuation with footwear? Perhaps. But because it was early and I don’t like to come across as pretentious to my neighbors, I decided to leave his incorrect logic alone. Immediately I slightly regretted not telling him that my 2 great loves are shoes and one-half of Sesame Street‘s gay couple so, after much thought, I found “Shoe-Bert” was best name combo that would properly honor both. Such an explanation would have made me smile for minutes, but would also place me in the undeniable asshole category (I try to walk the line of questionable asshole and sarcastically witty).

This lead me to over analyze the idea of what it would be like to assume everything/everyone’s personal label’s origin was the result of an interest held by their parent (or owner). In some cases this assumption would be 100% correct, especially when looking at pet names. But what if it was assumed that my name, Elizabeth, was given because my mother thoroughly enjoyed her subscription to Elle magazine? Here’s a short list of some possible explanations parents might have if they used such logic:

  • Tommy- fan of a trendy, poorly made, do-good shoe brand
  • Jennifer- gin and tonic is their drink of choice
  • Andrew- conjunctions make their world go round
  • Diane- either a gambling or suicide hotline was hopefully suggested to them
  • Johnson- toilets were not seen as an object, but rather as their passion

Go ahead, try a few on your own! I promise this activity can be a fantastic Wednesday afternoon Time Vampire.

Maybe the world would be a more simple place if everyone thought like this? It would definitely make everything and everyone an easier target to judge. And that would make life easier for both cynics and church-goers. Think about it.

Post Summary: Think before you speak and if you lack basic logic, just pet the dog and keep thoughts to yourself.

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