The problem with boys is they are not men.
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It's more advanced than anything in high school or college, yet no one is quite ready to settle down into a lifetime of love.
However, I have come across some things since I entered my 20's that I find appalling, and this is directed at the boys in the room.
Guys, come on — we know you're thinking with the wrong brain, afraid of commitment, and want to have your cake and eat it too, but can you at least be polite and mature when it comes to these things?
A funny story goes along with this complaint.
Senior year of college I worked at the Oregon State bookstore. I sold lots of printer paper, entertained the older ladies I worked with, and taught everyone how to fold origami paper cranes. For a temporary job it was fun, but also boring at times. Like many work places, you end up developing friendships with the people you work with.
I was living life on the down low in those days, trying to finish up the last year of school so I could get the hell out of Corvallis and wasn't super focused on making new friends. But like I said, you often develop friendships with people you work with.
And then there was Jeff.
Average height, pale, dark brown hair, he was the completely average college dude, and the only other person at the bookstore I worked with that was my age. We would talk on our shifts and got to know each other, he was funny enough. I never thought much of it beyond that.
Jeff liked to play tennis, so my friend and I and his roommates would all go hit balls on the court when it wasn't pouring down rain. It passed the time and we all became good, platonic friends.
This is where I screwed up — I made the giant mistake of making Valentine's Day plans with the guy. What was I thinking? I wish I knew. Definitely one of the weaker moments in my life I guess, but at the time it sounded better than sitting at home, drinking wine alone and watching The Notebook.
And oh man, was he excited. At the time I was too, even though I had a different idea in my head of how I wanted things to go. He had been telling me about some great Hawaiian chicken recipe he wanted to make for me, so we planned for what I thought was going to be a casual dinner at his place.
I had never been so wrong.
I showed up at his house, walked into the kitchen and all the food was cooked and ready. I made my way into the living room only to see they had moved their makeshift dining room table into the middle of the room, lit candles, candy at one place setting, and a dozen folded paper cranes that had been spray painted red and put in a vase (remember, I taught everyone how to make them at work).
Oh God. I just walked into a ticking time bomb, that I was definitely not expecting.
Not only that, but Jeff had also decided to invite his roommate and girlfriend for dinner as well. So on top of everything else, it was now a double-date.
Help.
I was pumped for the food, which, in my head was one of the main reasons I wanted to do the dinner at all. So the plan in my head became: eat, drink, give thanks, and peace out. After all, it was a Monday night.
Wrong again.
After dinner and all that jazz, he then tried to lure me into his dungeon of a bedroom. It was technically the basement of their grossly old house. I was really hesitant to go down there, not to mention I had a big midterm the next morning and I needed to study more, but I also felt like I couldn't dine and dash even though that was most ideal.
"We can study together, I have a midterm too," he said.
He thought that was so slick. Okay, I'll sit down there for 45 minutes, pretend I'm getting tired, and leave.
Nope.
This is where it got really awkward. He was trying to make a move and I dodged the bullet. Now I really knew it was time to go. I got up, gathered my stuff, made the excuse that I was coming down with something, thanked him for dinner, and left. He was still all happy and giddy so it was clear that he had no idea he'd just been harshly rejected on Valentine's Day.
But things quickly went downhill from there. I avoided playing tennis with him and really just tried to keep to myself. He was turning 21 on the coming Saturday and had mentioned he wanted me to celebrate with him and his friends. At the time, I didn't give him and answer but after what went down, that was definitely not happening.
Saturday rolls around and I get the classic text message, "Hey! So it's almost my birthday, you comin' out with me?"
"I actually have plans with friends tonight, sorry," was my response.
"Ok, well when you wanna quit being such a bitch, let me know," he said back.
Good one, buddy.
It's safe to say after that response I wasn't going to give him the time of day, which was going to make work awkward. Eventually we talked it over a bit and he made the claim he never liked me, which we all know was a big fat lie.
Lesson learned: Don't do dinner with a boy, wait for a man with a real dining room table.
Guys, come on — we know you're thinking with the wrong brain, afraid of commitment, and want to have your cake and eat it too, but can you at least be polite and mature when it comes to these things?
A funny story goes along with this complaint.
Senior year of college I worked at the Oregon State bookstore. I sold lots of printer paper, entertained the older ladies I worked with, and taught everyone how to fold origami paper cranes. For a temporary job it was fun, but also boring at times. Like many work places, you end up developing friendships with the people you work with.
I was living life on the down low in those days, trying to finish up the last year of school so I could get the hell out of Corvallis and wasn't super focused on making new friends. But like I said, you often develop friendships with people you work with.
And then there was Jeff.
Average height, pale, dark brown hair, he was the completely average college dude, and the only other person at the bookstore I worked with that was my age. We would talk on our shifts and got to know each other, he was funny enough. I never thought much of it beyond that.
Jeff liked to play tennis, so my friend and I and his roommates would all go hit balls on the court when it wasn't pouring down rain. It passed the time and we all became good, platonic friends.
This is where I screwed up — I made the giant mistake of making Valentine's Day plans with the guy. What was I thinking? I wish I knew. Definitely one of the weaker moments in my life I guess, but at the time it sounded better than sitting at home, drinking wine alone and watching The Notebook.
And oh man, was he excited. At the time I was too, even though I had a different idea in my head of how I wanted things to go. He had been telling me about some great Hawaiian chicken recipe he wanted to make for me, so we planned for what I thought was going to be a casual dinner at his place.
I had never been so wrong.
I showed up at his house, walked into the kitchen and all the food was cooked and ready. I made my way into the living room only to see they had moved their makeshift dining room table into the middle of the room, lit candles, candy at one place setting, and a dozen folded paper cranes that had been spray painted red and put in a vase (remember, I taught everyone how to make them at work).
Oh God. I just walked into a ticking time bomb, that I was definitely not expecting.
Not only that, but Jeff had also decided to invite his roommate and girlfriend for dinner as well. So on top of everything else, it was now a double-date.
Help.
I was pumped for the food, which, in my head was one of the main reasons I wanted to do the dinner at all. So the plan in my head became: eat, drink, give thanks, and peace out. After all, it was a Monday night.
Wrong again.
After dinner and all that jazz, he then tried to lure me into his dungeon of a bedroom. It was technically the basement of their grossly old house. I was really hesitant to go down there, not to mention I had a big midterm the next morning and I needed to study more, but I also felt like I couldn't dine and dash even though that was most ideal.
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| Photo credit, http://memegenerator.net/instance/24029089 |
He thought that was so slick. Okay, I'll sit down there for 45 minutes, pretend I'm getting tired, and leave.
Nope.
This is where it got really awkward. He was trying to make a move and I dodged the bullet. Now I really knew it was time to go. I got up, gathered my stuff, made the excuse that I was coming down with something, thanked him for dinner, and left. He was still all happy and giddy so it was clear that he had no idea he'd just been harshly rejected on Valentine's Day.
But things quickly went downhill from there. I avoided playing tennis with him and really just tried to keep to myself. He was turning 21 on the coming Saturday and had mentioned he wanted me to celebrate with him and his friends. At the time, I didn't give him and answer but after what went down, that was definitely not happening.
Saturday rolls around and I get the classic text message, "Hey! So it's almost my birthday, you comin' out with me?"
"I actually have plans with friends tonight, sorry," was my response.
"Ok, well when you wanna quit being such a bitch, let me know," he said back.
Good one, buddy.
It's safe to say after that response I wasn't going to give him the time of day, which was going to make work awkward. Eventually we talked it over a bit and he made the claim he never liked me, which we all know was a big fat lie.
Lesson learned: Don't do dinner with a boy, wait for a man with a real dining room table.
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