Why I rule

SG worked in a business that I frequented in the past year.  She and I would exchange pleasantries, talk about school, and the crap that seems to be the topic of all meaningless conversation.  She is very much my type, if I were forced to list one: Short, natural blonde, blue eyes, petite. One day I came in to the business, where her coworkers, who also all knew me, told me she was hiding in back and wanted me to ask her out.  I had not really thought too much about it before then, I was not too confident, and not too interested in putting up with the dating thing.  One may have fueled the other, but I digress. 

Once she presented herself, we exchanged numbers and made plans for the middle of the week.  She had something come up, but she did call me that Friday to ask if I wanted to take the rain check Saturday night.  I agreed, we set up the details, and agreed to see each other in 24.  The next morning, while I was working, she texted me to let me know someone she had been seeing had asked her to be exclusive, and she was sorry.  That was the text verbatim. 

I'm not one to get upset about rejection, but I was pretty bewildered as to what had just transpired.  The thing that cooked my McNuggets was that it was a text, not even the courtesy to call.  I deleted her number, since we apparently didn't have any more business, and moved on.  I saw her at the frat party, after I discovered that the inside of my pants contained enough friction to start a fire for Tom Hanks on Castaway, and she decided to play it cute with me.

Since I had seen her last, I have changed. A lot.  I am mostly an ass to women, since they respond positively to it.  I don't Chris Brown them, nor do I maliciously insult them, but I do relentlessly jab, bust, poke, expose, and in all other ways make fun of them.  It's immature, it's predictable, and it's thoughtless. In communication class, one is taught to shape the discourse to build rapport with the recipient. So I don't feel bad, considering my audience.  

I was trying to watch Sports Center when she approached. She started talking to me, pulling her sorority sisters over to say "This is the guy I was always talking to you about", and otherwise interrupting my attempt to catch basketball highlights.  I humored her, disregarded her, and let her talk to herself before I realized something: I am still mad at this girl.  So in the spirt of revenge, of my recent emergence as asshole, and of getting some vindictive action from her, I turned it on.  

I busted on her about being fat (she weighs maybe 100 lbs.), about being a nag, about being maternal, about it all. Girls that get this stuff, and see that I am having fun, respond well and see that it's cool to bust back.  She didn't get it, which made it all the more fun.  Eventually she started talking about a friend of mine, how she dated him, how they had made out, and then she comes out with this gem: "He even wanted to cheat on his girlfriend with me." 

With a straight face, and no hint of sarcasm, I responded back in a monotone, "Does that impress most guys?" 

 

"Does what impress most guys?"

"What you just told me"

"It was just a statement, you don't have to be an asshole about it."

"It was just a question, you don't have to be a bitch."

She texted me Saturday morning to apologize for being a cunt (her words, not mine). She also asked if I wanted to go hang out sometime this week.

I haven't said anything back.