It was definitely worth a try…

I have to give a shout out to my inspirations. Wednesday nights from 7-9, barring the loss of a limb, I attend a writing class. I am now more than halfway through my second session and I’m already sad that it will be over until the fall.

My fellow writers along with our writing teacher have helped me find my voice and have encouraged, shaped and inspired my writing. I wouldn’t have begun this blog, I wouldn’t have entered any writing contests and I would not have rediscovered my creative outlet without each and every one of them. This is my second session with these fine people. Some members have known each other much longer, some of us joined at the same time and we have a couple of new members who have added to the dynamics. Some are accomplished, published writers and some of us are new to the process. The space has always been a safe place and I feel like we are pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones because it’s a place where we can let our writing instruments of choice be free. What is written in class, stays in class of course so the generalities I speak of will have to suffice. But trust me, they are all talents in their own right.

Our teacher calls the writing prompts we are assigned each week ‘homeplay’. We are supposed to set our timers for 10 minutes and write. This week, has been a roller coaster of emotions, but fits with the prompt: “It was definitely worth a try”. When my children want to try something new, I tell them to try it.

My oldest daughter came home from school one day and told me she had been approached by a teacher to play rugby. She, up until that point, played volleyball and basketball. I was surprised she was toying with the idea because she had never played a contact sport. My response? Try it. Now, she loves it. She plays for teams both in school and in the community and she is vying for a spot on the provincial team. It was definitely worth a try.

My youngest asked me to print out the lyrics to a One Direction song so she could audition for her school’s talent show.

Little one: Mom, I have my audition. You have to print out the lyrics for me and put the music on a USB.

Me: That’s awesome. When is it?

Little one: (gives me the details) See, mommy. I’m conquering my fears.

We have tried dance and gymnastics and soccer and piano and guitar. Those activities have not kept her interested, but clearly continues to try new things.

I have friends that constantly push me to try new things. Years ago, I became a runner because one of my friends was trying it. With her, I learned to run, we ran 5ks together, we have gained weight together, we have tried various methods of losing weight together. We have learned to mediate, line dance, cope and overcome some of our anxieties. We encourage each other to try.

Other friends have introduced me to playing soccer as an adult even though I sprained my ankle playing my best game. Because of her, I start baseball next Monday. I haven’t played baseball since I was in elementary school, but, I’ll try it.

I joined a kickboxing class because I was invited to try it. 8 weeks later, I have lost 18 lbs. Tomorrow I complete a 6 week challenge and I get to find out how many inches I’ve lost. I would never have achieved this if I hadn’t tried.

My bestie at work encouraged me to try online dating. My last post chronicles that experience. It will take me a while to get comfortable in the dating game. I wasn’t really expecting to meet ‘the one’ right out of the gate and feeling the momentum die down definitely didn’t feel all that great, but it was worth the try.

My sister from another mister encourages me every day. She is proud of me and supports me no matter what stupid daily decision I make. She says I inspire her because of how far I’ve come, she needs to know that because I know I have her, I know I have someone in my corner all the time. Even though she knows 9/10 I’ll probably fall on my face and she’ll have to pick up my broken pieces, she supports my tries. I have an excellent support system.

My family, my co-workers and I wish I could thank them all, and maybe I will if I try to write my story one day.

I may not always get what I want, I may get hurt and sometimes even sad, but no matter what, it has definitely been worth a try.

So I dipped my toe in…

It has been a while since my last breakup and of course over 2 years since I’ve been on a first date. I started thinking about it. Then a couple of weeks ago, I decided to give it a try. On the advice of a friend, I created a profile on a site that requires the woman to make the first move in terms of beginning a conversation.

At first, it’s exciting. All the potential matches, then the ‘conversations’ begin and one begins to weed out the creepy guys, the secretly married guys and the perverted guys. Being 5’10, height is also a factor not only for me, but for a potential date. I’m not 5’5 looking to date men who are over 6ft tall, it is very much a level of comfort. If a guy is my height, he has to be comfortable with the fact that I rock the heels. My ex husband was 5’9 and it wasn’t until our honeymoon that he questioned my choice of footwear. On our way to a club one night, he looked at my feet and asked if I was going to wear ‘those high shoes’. As to not piss off my new husband, I did not wear them.

I have made so many mistakes in my relationships, but I have learned FINALLY that my partner has to try to make me happy too. Along the way, I forgot that I am my own person. I made my life all about my kids, or my partner’s needs and I forgot about my own.

I have done a lot of growing. I am not the person I was a year ago. I meditate, I work out regularly, I have found my outlet in my writing, I don’t anger as quickly, my anxiety seems under control, and my confidence is growing again.

So after chatting with a few new people, I took one conversation offline. We talked for hours, our first meeting over coffee lasted for hours, ended with a few kisses and I was excited because he was kind and nice and seemingly honest.

We went out again and the wheels fell off. I went into it with walls up and he seemed to understand and appreciate that. I’m not going to overanalyze the second date. I’ve gone through it all over and over. I wouldn’t change a thing. I was honest and open.

Our subsequent conversations have been fluffy, without the substance they usually contain. I gave myself 24 hours to be a little sad about it. He got me excited about the possibility and I’m mad at myself for letting down my walls so early. I am not the kind of person who invests time in something that I don’t think is going to go anywhere just for the sake of being in a relationship.

As much as I hate being alone, I am not going to settle EVER again.

In the brief time I spoke to him, he did teach me that men can be gentlemen, they can be intuitive, they can be attentive, but they can also lie.

I’m glad I invested hours in this person and not years.

It has been 21 hours. Three more hours and I will erase all traces of him.

I’m a little bummed, but grateful that I found this out early.

But I dipped my pinky toe in the water and it almost felt good.

Stupidity, thy name is…

I was reminded today that I haven’t posted in a while. I don’t have a good excuse, but I do have some interesting stories.

I am in my fourth week of a six week challenge at my kickboxing gym. There is a little less of me as a result and I am trying to be proud of my progress. I am not where I want to be, but I’m getting there, albeit slowly, but I’m getting there. One of the challenges is not only exercise, but a meal plan that requires me to eat at very specific times. I have been working offsite for almost two weeks and it is sometimes so incredibly busy, that I honestly forget to eat. This may not seem like a big deal to some, but I absolutely love food. My body and brain have trained themselves to be cognizant of what I am putting in my mouth. I am resisting many things that in the past would have been difficult. Small, daily victories. Although I did have a small piece of birthday cake, it was for my mom, so I have already forgiven myself.

Something else happened this week, that I am going to have to forgive myself for and although I have tried to rationalize my actions, I did a stupid, stupid thing. So as I am trying to process it. Here is what lead up to it.

Thursday night, the after-school schedule was over-booked. There was tutoring and parent-teacher interviews happening at the same time, so as a family, we had to do some organizing. While I was listening to teacher after teacher rave about my daughter’s academic performances, she did something that will haunt me and scare me for the rest of my life. If I didn’t already have grey hair, it would have all turned white. I promised that I would never repeat what she did, so I am going to respect her privacy, but believe me, dear reader, you don’t have to have a child of your own to understand that what she did was dangerous and could have ended extremely badly. Thankfully, both my children are safe and sound. My oldest daughter was hopefully scared straight and will never put herself in that kind of danger again. She was very lucky this time. I don’t even think she realizes how lucky she was and is, but I do.

That night, I was extremely emotional. I met a friend of mine for tea and I was still reeling. The night before, I received some bad news about a woman I knew who lost her husband. I was reminded that it has been four months since my break up and feeling lonely, I wondered if I had made a mistake.

I have a set of Guardian angel cards that I use to meditate and I kept choosing the ‘Soulmate’ card. In one of my earlier posts, I decided I didn’t need my plan B, so I had already decided that he couldn’t possibly be my soulmate. But what about my ex? Had I made a mistake? At dinner with some friends a couple of weeks ago, one of my friends asked if I was ready to date. I have been thinking about it, and I didn’t think I was. I was trying to figure out why that was. made the decision to break up with my ex. decided that I had had enough of his bullshit. didn’t even want to be with him anymore. So why did I feel like I had to confirm all of this? So in my overly emotional state, I think I wanted to make sure that I had not actually let my potential soulmate go. So stupidly, I called him. Why the fuck I did do it?

One friend suggested that I did it because I needed the closure we never really had and it was almost like I needed to give myself permission to move on by making sure he didn’t hate me too much. He was very surprised to hear from me and as soon as he answered, I knew I shouldn’t have called. But there was no turning back. Fuck. I asked him how he was doing and I acknowledged that it was probably a shock to hear from me. He was cold. No trace of the man I used to love. I don’t know why I expected any different. Was I expecting him to be happy to hear from me?

The conversation lasted 5 minutes and 18 seconds. I made it clear that I was not calling to get back together or anything like that, but that I felt like I needed to apologize for the way we left things. He assured me that I did not have to apologize and that the way we were fighting was not healthy for us. He also acknowledged that his expectations about my level of patience were unfair and the situation he was in that had caused so much turmoil was very much still his reality. Nothing had changed. He is the same person. The same person I loved for as long as I could until my heart that was trying so hard to keep itself together, finally broke. I told him that I appreciated him saying that and I wished that there was something I could say to somehow erase the bad memories. There isn’t, there wasn’t and there never will be. But at least this time, I got to say goodbye forever and I wished him well. I sat in my car after the call and let myself let go of all of the ‘what ifs’. There were a few tears, but I’m not sure if they were all about him or just a release of emotions because of everything that had happened earlier. Whatever the reason, the tears felt right. I don’t cry very often, so there weren’t very many, but enough to make it feel like some kind of weight had been lifted.

I did not let my soulmate go. Even if I never find my soulmate, it was not him.

Before driving home, I checked Instagram. Lo and behold, there is a picture of my Plan B with his new girlfriend with the hashtag #lovemygirl. Poor girl. He said those same words to me less than a month ago. I dodged that bullet.

When I got home, my daughter kept apologizing. She saw that I had been crying. I told her about the phone call I had made. Her response? “It’s okay, Mom. We both did stupid things tonight. Can we forget they ever happened?”

I gave her my phone and asked her to erase any traces of these two men from my phone. Phone numbers? Gone. Voicemails? Gone. Text messages? All gone. I even had her go through my camera roll and erase any potential reminders. Clean slate. No guilt about dating again. No more wondering if I missed something in someone.

The ‘Soulmate’ card is supposed to encourage me to find my truth and seek truth through transformation. It is about choosing freedom and no longer living a lie.

I have been asking the universe to give me a sign. Well, I got two giant flashing ones. It couldn’t be more clear.

I am free.

I took me a while to understand that I have been free for a while, it just took my heart a little time to realize it.

Did I fall in love with a narcissist?

**Note: This post was originally posted in February.  I edited a few typos that were driving me nuts and it reposted at a later date.

 

For the past two days, I have woken up and my first thoughts were not of him. I have not seen him for almost two months and I have not spoken to anything other than his voicemail in almost a month. This is what I asked for and he was more than willing to give me what I wanted. It’s amazing that all the things I really wanted from him, he refused or could not give me. To give me nothing but silence? That’s fucking talent right there.

So I’ve been trying to make sense of my emotions through various means. Besides the breakup app I downloaded and trying to learn not to give a fuck, I’m working through The 30 Day Heartbreak Cure by Catherine Hickland. I’m on Day 13 out of 30. Some of the sections are difficult to read because the author forces the reader to face some truths about the relationship. By extension, the author asks the reader to face some truths about themselves.

I am my own worst critic. I am supposed to be learning how to be gentler with myself. I am very hard on myself. I don’t do well with compliments and when I get one, I brush it off or simply don’t believe it. I am graceless that way. Some find this quality endearing. One of my good male friends loves to watch me blush and get uncomfortable. I think it says a lot about what I have learned to recognize and simultaneously ignore about myself.

This is my reaction when I receive a compliment:

My partner at work sent me a meme (We often communicate in memes. No words are even necessary. We just wait for each other’s reactions) with the acrostic poem of a narcissist. I don’t consider myself a stupid woman, but I think I fell in love (I’m probably still in love) with a narcissist.

Never admits to being wrong

I can’t say he never admitted to being wrong. He did apologize sometimes. He apologized for some small, insignificant things. It was always me that had to apologize for my attitude. Even he will tell you that for 1.5 years of our 2 year relationship were amazing. I honestly did not want for anything. He gave me what I needed during that time. As things got more serious, I realized that I wanted my life to evolve. I wanted to live with him. I wanted to fall asleep with him every night and wake up with him every morning. I was (and probably still am) so in love with him. He couldn’t see what I was giving up in order to work with him timeline and his commitments.  I began to vocalize my needs more frequently and even I got sick of listening to the broken record that played my complaints over and over to him.

His response?

It was my fault that I wasn’t patient enough. He even tried to blame me for his inaction. It was because I was complaining too much that he wasn’t making any progress in his mediation and because I was such a bitch there was no way I was going to meet his son.

I let him break my heart in more ways than one on a daily basis. My heartbreak manifested itself into anxiety, panic and paranoia. When he was with his son, I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t reach him when I wanted to, but I had to be available to him at any time. And somehow, someway, that was also my fault. I knew so much about his son. I loved him without ever meeting him because he was a part of his father. He was, is and will always be a great father to his son. He was always good to my girls. It is not my intention to trash him AT ALL. I’m still saddened that I never got to be a part of it. He never stood up for me.

I wish I had felt from the beginning that I deserved more.

Avoids emotion and accountability

I cannot say that he didn’t express himself. He was affectionate and loving and sensitive when everything was going his way. If we fought, he would show up at my house. If he couldn’t get a hold of me, he would call dozens of times.

I fought the same way. When I did it though, I was a psycho.

Once, after we fought, I drove all the way to the arena where I knew he would be playing hockey. I waited with a chocolate milk in the car for him to finish and come out to his car. I parked several spaces over because I wasn’t sure if he would make a scene, but that night, of all nights, he brought his son with him. So, what else could I do but drive away?

I couldn’t even say ‘hello’ to my own boyfriend. He didn’t even know I was there. I felt like a piece of worthless dog shit. I cried all the way home.

But that too? My fault. When I told him the following evening that I was there, I think he was more concerned with whether or not I would have made a scene. I told him that first and foremost, I had my pride and I would not do anything to embarrass myself.

It was never his fault that I felt the way I did.

Rages if anyone challenges them

I will not repeat the words or names he called me here. I will not transcribe any of our fights.

I will learn from the mistakes that I made. If anyone ever says these things to me again, I will run faster and farther than I have ever run away from a man in my life.

What would I tell my best friend or my daughters if they were being treated this way? Why can I give great advice but never take it?

Childish when they don’t get their way

My NLP (Neurolinguistics Pathways) guy (I told you, I have tried everything to combat my anxiety) told me that sometimes my 5 year old personality takes over. I have sulked, I have pouted, I have thrown tantrums. But I get over them as quickly as they started.

He and I were similar in that way. But he would forget all the horrible things he said and expect me to be on his same schedule to forget about it. After every fight, the things would get harder and harder to forget.

Instills doubt in their victims

He told me I was beautiful, smart, sexy, strong etc. But all those compliments didn’t mean much to me when the person who claimed to love me so much just threatened to leave me.

I felt (feel) unworthy.

Stonewalls during conflicts

There was very little room for negotiation in our relationship. He would say that because of our circumstances, this is the way things had to be.

I wasn’t happy. That wasn’t his problem, it was mine. He didn’t want to talk about it because there was no point.

I really must have thought that if only I could make him feel my pain, he would understand what he was doing to me and change things or at the very least stop hurting me.

We know how that turned out.

Smears and slanders you

I’m sure I’m the craziest bitch he ever got involved with.

I only met two of his friends and even then, it was only for a short period of time. One of his friends I only spoke to on the phone or through texts. So, there are very few people who in his life who actually know me. And to be honest, I think those guys know their friend.

Still, I hate knowing that strangers are passing judgement on me.

I have to let that go too.

In denial and gaslights you

I had to look up the terms gaslighting in order to be able to comment on this. So I read several articles including this one:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/here-there-and-everywhere/201701/11-warning-signs-gaslighting-in-relationships

It was actually scary to read because when I was in it, I didn’t even realize it was happening to me. I was so happy for so long, I didn’t even realize I wasn’t, until I wasn’t.

Subjects you to the silent treatment

Our relationship ended in silence. One of my friends said that when people break up, this is what happens. They don’t talk or see each other ever again.

Jesus.

I’ve never had a relationship end so abruptly. I have had contact with pretty much all of my exes at some point. Never to get back together, but never to be enemies either.

I don’t think this will be the case here. I don’t think I will see or hear from him ever again.

Like I told his voicemail, I wish him the best. And I truly do.

Triangulates you and tears you down

He didn’t realize he was doing this to me, but he was. He didn’t like several of my friends, he was hardly around for family functions.

Even with him, I was alone.

Without him, my world hasn’t changed much except that I don’t have his texts or voice to look forward to reading or hearing. After speaking to someone every day for over 2 years, I definitely feel his absence.

But I am also understanding, that a narcissist does not change. My friend asked me to point out where he had grown over the last two and a half years.

“He didn’t!”,  she answered for me. “He’s the same fucking person.”

Too true.

What just happened?

This morning on my train ride into the city, I was initially annoyed because my car was virtually empty meaning there were plenty of seats available. That is not the annoying part. A gentleman came to sit directly in front of me. When the train is busy, by all means, but when you can have your choice of a free seat, why take my leg room? Not only am I almost 6 feet tall, but I am currently in a walking cast because of a soccer injury that happened almost 2 weeks ago.

So I was trying to make myself a little smaller and a lot shorter to make sure I shared enough of my space. Why didn’t I move? I had pretty much moved into my seat this morning. My laptop was under my chair, my purse was on my lap and my ear buds were ready for insertion should anyone annoy the living shit out of me with their conversations or their ringers. I became a tree on the train, and I was not going to move.

On a side note, if you have your phone on your person, why does the ringer need to be on the highest volume. Nobody cares if I get a call or a text, so why should I give a rat’s ass if anyone else does? Turn your ringer off or at least turn it WAY down. No one is that important that the entire car has to know that someone is trying to reach them.

Is it me? Am I too considerate of other people’s feelings? Should I be more selfish?

I think sometimes because I am a nice person, people are going to be just as nice and more often than not, I am disappointed. But something happened today that reminded me that there are kind, thoughtful, generous people in the world.

At the end of my train ride, I usually check that I have my Presto card, my wallet and my cell phone. My two bags are impossible to miss so I always have those. I was reading a book today so maybe I was distracted? Maybe I was busy deciding how long I should wait before getting off the train so as not to delay anyone else with my hobbling. Maybe I was hoping that the Presto machines were actually working because I only had $1.80 left on my card and I still needed to get on the subway. For whatever reason, I was not thinking and I didn’t check off the items on my list. If I had, I would have realized that my cell phone was missing.

I began to panic on the subway. When I went to put my novel away, it wasn’t sitting on the top of my other things. Usually, that is the last thing I touch. Thinking positively, which I have been trying to do more of lately, I rationalized that it must have slipped to the bottom of my bag. I lose reception underground, but my Fitbit alerts me that I have a message as soon as I connect with the network again. When that didn’t happen when I got to street level, I knew I didn’t have it.

When I got to my desk, I emptied my bag. Why do I lug so much shit back and forth every day?

No phone.

I have issues with owning an iPhone. I love the reliability and the games, but I had a Blackberry for the longest time and I loved it. Giving it up was difficult for me so even though I have had iPhones for a couple of years now, I am not in love with it. My ex thought it would be great if I had one because he had one. Relax dear reader, I did not get an iPhone just because he had an iPhone.

My oldest daughter has one and I like to know that she has read and received my messages and we share an Apple Music subscription. Additionally, my youngest daughter has an iPad so she can FaceTime me whenever she wants and all my siblings near and far have iPhones so having this model is economical as well.

Another plus? I paid for AppleCare for my daughter’s iPad. When it broke one day before AppleCare expired, I went to the store and left with a brand new device. Good customer service goes a long way when a store/brand is trying to keep my business. It is for all of these reasons that I now own an iPhone.

Because I have an iPhone, I was able to sign into my iCloud to see if I could find my phone, I was able to put it in ‘Lost Mode’. This meant that all my apps were locked and I could send a message that would be displayed on the screen with a number that I could be reached at. I entered my office phone number and within minutes, I received a phone call. A lady had my phone and I could meet her at the Eaton’s Centre at noon to be reunited with it.

I could not believe my good luck. To thank her, I purchased a gift card from Starbucks and when it was time, I walked to the mall and arrived promptly at 12.

The lady was not there. With every passing minute, I admittedly grew more anxious because I did not have a way to contact this woman. I only knew that she rode the same morning train as me.

At 12:12, she arrived! She couldn’t have been kinder. She didn’t want to take my gift card, but I insisted. I told her she is a reminder that there are kind strangers in this world who are willing to go out of their way to help another human being. We chatted briefly and I went back to work with my phone.

The woman’s name is Vanessa and thankfully, Starbucks is her favourite coffee place. I hope she knows how thankful I am to her while she sips her beverage of choice.

Thank you again, Vanessa.

Why did I throw out my Plan B?

I think every one of us has that one person that they are always going to love. Maybe you’re married or in a relationship with that person right now and that’s fantastic. I was in a relationship with someone that ended over three years ago, but he never really went away. He has dated other people, I have dated other people but for some reason, we always stayed connected to each other.

He sent me a text on Valentine’s Day and we were both single. I have always wondered, what if? What if we were supposed to be together? What if the universe is bringing us back to each other? And if I’m being completely honest, I think I always had him in the back of my mind probably to the detriment of some of the relationships I was in. He was my safety net and I was probably his.

So when we started talking again, the cliche faint glimmer of hope was there in my mind. We had coffee a couple of times, there were a few texts exchanged, but we had made plans to go to dinner several times and nothing really ever came to fruition. After the last time, I simply texted. “No worries. Let’s just forget it.”

So what exactly did I actually have to forget?

We will always care about each other. That much is true. And I don’t want to hurt him and I don’t think he wants to hurt me. We have been through that.

I think I have changed quite a bit since we were a couple. I have grown in many ways physically, emotionally and spiritually. I think he is the same person. And not that that is a bad thing, just not my thing anymore. Our tastes are different, our interests are different and probably what we want out of life is different. Though we never got around to discussing any of these things, I think we both know that these issues are there. The reasons we broke up aren’t going to disappear and the issues will still be there if we got back together.

He’s not for me anymore. But it was nice to feel wanted and even nicer to not have to go through the awkward stage of getting to know each other.

This time though, I went into it with eyes wide open. I didn’t jump in too fast. There was no physical contact beyond a hug hello and a hug goodbye. That makes it so much easier. First, because I’m still not ready for that step with anyone at this point and second, I don’t want to make any more mistakes and sleeping with him would have been a mistake that it would have taken me a while to recover from. So, there’s that.

What was great about having a Plan B? Well that’s exactly it. If my Plan A didn’t work out, which with my track record will for sure happen, then there was always Plan B. So why, after all these years, why let him go now?

It’s time. Finally.

I have made so many positive changes in my life. Before Christmas last year, I decided that I wasn’t going to be in an unhappy relationship. As hard as that was, I have learned that I’m better than okay on my own. So why go backwards and back to what was already broken?

And it was broken. And it’s still broken. I didn’t have the butterflies when I received a text from him and didn’t leave him floating on air with unicorns and rainbows. I’ve had that kind of love. I had that kind of love with him, once. That’s the kind of love I want again. Otherwise, what’s the point?

I will always love him. No matter what. But we both deserve better. He doesn’t deserve to be my Plan B. He should be someone’s Plan A and I shouldn’t be held back by what I thought could have been.

So goodbye, my friend. I know I’ll probably never see you again. I wish you all the best and all that shit.

Can I get some tonight?

For most of my life, I have lived in the suburbs so until last year, I drove into work. Now I take a log train ride and a very short subway ride to get to my office.

Commuting has been quite the experience. I could go on for pages about the trade secrets, scandals and general gossip I have overheard on the train. It’s amazing what people will say in public seemingly without a thought to who else could be listening. I used to wonder why people made such a big deal about the ‘Quiet Zone’ located on the upper level of each train during rush hour. Believe me, I get why it needs to exist. The nosey part of me couldn’t wait to hear other people’s business. Now? I wish these people would just shut the fuck up. My apologies, dear reader, if this sounds harsh, but unless you’ve experienced it, there really is nothing like it. As I type, the woman behind me is on the phone with a hardware store threatening them with a lawsuit unless the proper countertops are delivered to her home in the next few hours. She has been living without a kitchen sink, from what I gather, for almost a month and the marble countertop she ordered has a noticeable chip in it and she has not been offered satisfactory compensation for the inconvenience.

I can sympathize with the woman and also with the customer service person she is on he phone with, but this conversation is really not that interesting, it has the attention of the entire car and I’m never going to know if she’ll ever get her countertop because chances are I won’t see her ever again and if I do, her issue will be resolved and I’ll be none the wiser.

As if the loud talking isn’t enough, the spread of the plague is also a concern. Last week, a woman sitting across the aisle from me, was describing her symptoms of influenza to her coworker. I heard all about her trip to the doctor and how she has the flu and that she feels like shit and that she shouldn’t have come to work that day. Intermittently, she was coughing. Hacking, actually. Revolting, phlegm spewing hacking. The woman beside me was equally disgusted and wondered aloud if we should move. And go where? If we’ve already been exposed to Patient Zero, we’re already infected. As much as it freaks me out that people actually wear surgical masks to walk around, this lady definitely needed one. You should have stayed the fuck home, lady, instead of infecting the poor people that had the misfortune of sitting in the same car as you. Fuck.

Yesterday, some university students were complaining that bedbugs have been discovered on campus. The subway line I ride makes a stop close to this university. Now there is no fucking way I am going to sit my ass on a subway car and risk taking home a bed bug. I had a student who had bed bugs once and she showed me her chewed up, itchy arms. From that day, I am terrified that I am going to bring them home from a hotel or from a vacation or from a plane and now from the subway.

Today, I got off the subway after standing for four stops and I was making my way to the office. In front of me was a man who should have been wearing a belt as his pants were below his ass as we were walking up the first of two sets of narrow steps. I have no idea how his pants were even staying up. I had my earphones in and even though they weren’t on, I still couldn’t make out what he was saying when he turned to face me. Without stopping, I took out an earbud so I could figure out that he was asking me as we approached our second set of steps. 14 more and I’d be safely on the street. This tiny landing was a blind spot. The security guards couldn’t see me and the people above me couldn’t see me yet.

He was asking me for change and I forgot the rule I was taught when I started working downtown. Don’t make eye contact with shady people. But this time I did, shit. So I politely said I didn’t have any change (which I didn’t) and I had almost made it to the first step when he asked if he could ‘get some tonight’?

Omfg.

I didn’t turn back. I was so scared I didn’t even get my free daily paper from the woman who greets me with it every morning. Five more steps and I was through the revolving door and in the lobby of my office building. My heart was beating a million miles a minute, but he didn’t follow me and I was safe and that’s all that mattered.

I shared the story with my one of co-workers and she told me that the man I had my encounter with was much more polite. Her admirer simply asked her, “Do you want some ass?”

I don’t think she had to verbally decline the invitation. I’m assuming that by walking away, these creepers understand that we are not interested in what they have to offer.

So, no, you cannot get some tonight. At least not from me.