#NerdsUnite: The Stupid Years
<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Aaron ... he's a writer, and goth nerd. For reals, he's got some crazzyyyyy ass stories from some of the peeps he's met online, and is now here to share those crazy ass stories with you all. I only have one more thing left to say ... HIT IT AARON!!! </editorsnote>
#TalkNerdyToMeLover's @aaronflux
Goddammit. Goddammit.
God. Dammit!
You know, up until two minutes ago, I was going to write about this past weekend's festivities which included a screening of Cabin In The Woods, which if you're like me, you'll absolutely love. But if you're like many people, who would rather see The 3 Stooges because maybe they're not big horror movie fans, you may not totally get. This past weekend also included a trip to Monsterpalooza, standing in line for 1 1/2 hours to get in, only to walk around for 2 minutes and decide I should leave due to my post bunion surgery foot. It was an after thought, once I got to the convention, that walking around a convention crowded with horror nerds with the heightened risk of having someone stomp on my still healing foot was not a good idea. But thankfully, I met some cool people in line while waiting and ended up getting beers and margaritas with them. Better use of my $25 (which was Saturday's admission).
Still, I wish I could go visit The Wolfman again. He loved me the last time!
Yeah, I was going to talk about that (I guess I just did) but then just now, I received a friend request on the old Book O' Faces. The face of the girl who was requesting to be my friend looked kinda familiar. I wasn't sure where I knew her from really. I clicked through her pictures and she's one of those girls who got tattoos all over. Like even on her chest. Still, not connecting who this was. But, here's a tangent thought: what's the deal with chest tattoos on ladies? As a guy, there's other things on a lady's chest I'd prefer to devote my attention to than a flaming heart tattoo or a picture of the devil from the movie Legend or some guy named Harold's name with stars and lightning bolts around it...or whatever else imaginable. Even if you have a Legend Of Zelda tattoo on your chest, I'm sorry ladies, my eyes prefer to get straight to the boobies.
So, yeah, still staring at her pics. Scrolling through and finally BOOM! It hit me. I knew this girl. Fifteen years ago. I had "known" her. Biblically.
Let's just also take into consideration, before I go any further with this story, that for a good duration of my relationship history I was not in my "right" state of mind. Another reason I went into therapy a few years back. Apparently all these years of dating crazies and getting involved in fucked up relationships ultimately started with me. I used to think I was attracting the psychos but came to this realization, slower than I should have, that the blame for the train wreck after train wreck fell on my shoulders too. Sadly, I had to hit my early 30s before I came to this conclusion. But luckily for you, I got some crazy stories out of these stupid years of my life.
Fifteen years ago. Geez, if ever I was a different person. I don't even look like the guy in the old pictures I found from that time period. Crazy.
Anyway, it was roughly after I finally got out of the 6 month clusterfuck with the "Sex Dwarf" whom I referred to in my previous post. I had become close friends with a guy we'll call "Robert" who was friends with the club slut who named herself after a perfume. We started hanging out all the time. The goth/industrial club scene was a weird small incestuous environment that way. Probably still is. And one fine night at a party or a club, I can't remember which, I met this girl through "Robert". Let's call this girl "Bethany" shall we?
It was her eyes that grabbed me immediately. I remember that much. Something mischievous about them. Her smile and her wit. I think I was immediately smitten. And it wasn't too long before we were "dating". But I put that in quotes because looking back on the stupid years of my life, I'm not sure I can really call much of those relationships much more than some word in quotation marks that signifies being somewhere in a zip code adjacent to the definition of an actual relationship. So accept my quotation marks as cute bunny ears...attached to a zombie bunny's head who wants nothing more than to eat your face off.
I think our overall "dating" experience lasted roughly three or four months. Not too long and if it were me now, I wouldn't even remotely have been as emotionally invested as I was. Not really aware of the concept of a rebound, let alone being on the rebound from the previous travesty of a girlfriend, I fell for her. And just to keep it straight, there was the losing my virginity to the girl on her period in 1996 who left me for another girl, then dating the "Sex Dwarf" in 96/97 who cheated on me with 7 other guys and a few chicks, and then immediately moving on to "Bethany".
Damn, what a maroon!
Let me say, from the beginning, this girl was different from the others before her....kinda. She was into punk music. Stuff I had never heard off like Crass and Subhumans. She also had a weird obsession with Lucille Ball. I dug that. Something a bit different. But like me, she had also just gotten out of an abusive situation. And soon, this "dating" scenario became weird.
Early on, I found out she was recovering from a pretty bad addiction to the Big H...the Black Tar...Chiva....the uh...Heroin. Yeah, the heavy shit. Apparently that shit is difficult to kick. Who knew!?
From what I recall, she had just gotten out of a situation with an ex who would physically abuse her. He apparently looked like Billy Joe from Green Day. And she was kicking the hard stuff and then got into a "dating" situation with kind and patient, yet mopey me! I first realized there was a bit of an issue when I would randomly get her flowers or other such little gifts to show my fondness of her only to have it backfire on me by a storm of screams and tears on her end. I didn't understand at the time, but coming from abuse...one may yearn for said abuse as a means of acceptance after a while and my behavior was a complete 180 from what she was used to.
Oh and the methadone. Her withdrawals from heroine was one thing but then also her attempt to kick the methadone was a whole other monster. There were nights where we'd fight and then she'd end up in a fetal position on the bed clutching her stomach because of the pain.
But it was night and day, literally. One day it'd be screaming and her almost begging me to be abusive in one sense or the other and then the next day it was all sunshine and rainbows. At this point in my life, I was getting this general impression that all women were like this. You learn from your experiences I guess.
As soon as it all began with us, it seemed to end. And not in an ideal way either.
One day, while at work at a stupid call center job I had at the time, I received a message on my top of the line J&J Beeper. It was my buddy "Robert" and his message went sort of like this (forgive me, it WAS 15 years ago!):
"Hey Aaron, it's Robert."
In between his words, I heard a female voice telling him what to say.
"Some shit happened recently."
More pauses, more words being fed to him.
"Bethany needs time alone. She has to end this with you."
Pauses. My heart immediately racing.
"Don't call her back. Sorry buddy"
*click*
Fuck that bullshit! I called her back. You know you would have too!
Seriously, what kind of disrespectful pussy bullshit was that anyway? You don't have the balls to break up with me in person, let alone on the phone? You have to use my good friend to break up with me through over the phone? While I'm at work!? Yeah, great move.
So I got up from my desk and stormed to the payphone in the lobby (since cellular phones were still not widely used) and called her back. She answered the phone and didn't say much that I can remember besides, " I don't want to talk. Don't come over. It's over."
Then, *click* and the phone went dead.
You know, it's difficult to be customer service "ready" and have a friendly and approachable phone voice when you go to a soul sucking job you hate as it is. But it's way more difficult when your girlfriend breaks up with you through your friend over the phone without giving you any reason whatsoever. So I was fuming, naturally. I felt like B.A. Baracus thrust his meaty fist into my chest and pulled out my heart only to headbutt over and over while yelling, "I pity the fool!"
My heart being the fool.
Me being the fool.
I headed directly to my desk and my initial instinct was to kick in my computer monitor and throw everything within grabbing range. Instead, I grabbed my things and told my supervisor, "I quit."
Yep, me being the fool.
I look back on this and obviously can see that this "dating" scenario would not have gone anywhere and it ending was the best thing that could happen. It's funny that I really only remember how it ended than any other details. Since she requested me as a friend, we had a little back and forth and she brought up a few things that I don't remember at all. My brain built up a wall and won't let me access those memories. Thank you, brain.
What's even funnier is, two years or so after this break-up, I found out through a friend that "Bethany" cheated on me WITH "Robert" the night before she had "Robert" call me at work to break up with me for her. Ain't that a kick in the balls? Two years later, I moved on. I was no longer feeling any sense of attachment at all to this girl. But finding out such a piece of information, my friend was surprised I got upset. Well, shit, wouldn't YOU get upset? To find out your close friend, whom called you to break up with you because your girlfriend was too chickenshit, apparently fucked said girlfriend the previous evening?!? I don't care if I found out a day later or 10 years later! I was immediately beyond pissed at "Robert" who I still considered my friend and called him on it. I fumed, I griped, I yelled, I stopped talking to him. And then years later, he finds me on Facebook and I accept his friend request.
And years later, "Bethany" finds me on Facebook and I accept her friend request.
My current girlfriend (who I'm madly in love with and am living with...so there!) doesn't understand accepting these requests. I, however, look at them as more of a reminder than anything else. Much like, how my best friend wanted me to keep the pin after they removed it from my foot post-bunion surgery, these people remind me of these experiences. Like trophies that mark my growth beyond the sad mistakes from these times of my life I call "The Stupid Years", I keep them around...even if in the social networking ether.
For all I know, they're probably reading this right now. And if they are reading this, I guess I've got one thing to say.