Friday, August 11, 2006

An Email From Anna Dedicated to My Parents

I would like to repost an email my best friend Anna sent me about a blind date she went on last night. Rachael, Oh my god. I'm going to kill my uncle. (Anna was raised by her aunt and uncle, kind of like Lana Lang in 'Smallville--' or as my friend, Rob, likes to call it "Superman on the Creek') I told you how a month ago or so, actually longer ago god it was late June you were on the road I think. So maybe we didn't talk about this. I got a myspace message from some dude in Ohio that read, "Your Uncle said, I could date you." Immediately, I call my uncle and ask if he knows a dude named, Carl because Carl says you said he could date me. "Oh yeah," my uncle says, "I see him at dishwasher repair conventions. He's a sales rep for a dishwasher parts company. I told him he could contact you through your website." Then, I had to take 20 minutes to try to explain what the hell myspace is. You'd think that at least my uncle would know about myspace due to the pedophile publicity the site has been getting these last 6 months or so. Here's the beginning of my downfall. He knows my uncle so I thought I'd be polite and myspace message the guy back. Granted my message was a little Taming of Shrew like, but I didn't swear or insult his family just a little snarky banter. Carl then suggests next time he's in New York we get a drink. Rachael, I'm like you, I could always go for a free drink. I respond, "Sure, if you ever are in NYC I'll get a drink." That was late June. All of July passes you'll remember it as the month you were in and out of depression and didn't have much time for your best friend here. Not that I'm complaining, I'm glad to have you in back. Anyhoo. Last week I get another myspace message from this Carl. He's going to be in NYC he wants to get a drink. Let me note that I'm reading this myspace message at 1:30 in the morning kind of inebriated. I respond curtly, "yeah sure, whatever." I then look at his myspace profile and his pictures. Why I didn't do this in June I'll never know. His myspace pictures, not attractive and I'm not sober while looking at him. So I get on the phone at 1am and call my uncle. "Uncle George, he's not attractive!" Uncle George has no idea who I am or what I'm talking about because you know I woke him up and am now shouting at him. I tell him I saw Carl's pictures on myspace and I'm highly disappointed. We have the whole defining myspace discussion again. My uncle asks me if I'm a pedophile. Ugh. How can a person be so out of touch? My uncle then says, get this I can't believe he said this he says, "He's better looking then most of the guys I've seen you date." Execuse me?!?! He continues "He's better looking than Melaria." Melaria is what he calls Mel. (Mel's a dude she dated for a spell) And no, I'm not misspelling malaria; Uncle George thinks he's being clever with his little nickname. So now I'm on the phone at 1:something in the morning defending Mel's looks to my supposedly straight Uncle who's been married to my aunt for over 30 years. I think I said something like Mel had a lovely head of hair (she's right he did). My uncle gives me some bullshit about how I've always wanted men to like me for my inner beauty. Which might have been true years ago, but now I want someone who thinks the way I look is hot. He said something stupid to that and I yell into the phone, "Whatever, it's my turn to date a really hot guy, God damn it!" The next week I go on the date. He turns out to be decent looking and to be a fucking alcoholic. We went to Los Dos Molinos, the place with margaritas as large as your head. He had finished one before I arrived. Before I can sit down he orders us a pitcher of margarita he drinks three fourths of it. Then he proceeds to order two more as big as your head margaritas after that. He tells me I should get another one. I say no, I have to work early tomorrow. I go to the bathroom, when I get back there's another fucking margarita there. As I nurse mine he orders yet another margarita for himself, the wait staff was reluctant to bring it to him. The bill came I was not going to even fake offer to pay any of this. I had a chicken burrito he had an enchilada. The bill was $168.00. I don't want to go home and lie in bed feeling drunk so I decide I'm going to go that folk bar hangout and see who's there. Carl comes with me. We run into three buddies of mine two of which are girls. He hits on both of them and orders everyone three rounds of shots. I did not partake. I'm heading home for the evening he tries to get me to come back to his hotel room. "What part of I have to work at 7am don't you get?" Then he tries to come home with me. I say he can't I don't want a scandal in the machine washer repair industry. I hop on the subway alone and free. I call Uncle George at 7am and leave a message, "Don't interfere in my love life again. It seems you are no better at picking men than I am. " Rachael, I'm 29 years old and I still do things my guardians want me to do even when I know it's a bad idea. My Aunt said to me "So you're not going to see him again?" Even if he were cool, you know didn't have a kid, or wasn't divorced -- Yeah he's 28 years old with a kid and an ex-wife-- He'd still live in OHIO! I'm 29. Anna

2 comments:

citytropic said...

Absolutely hilarious.

Ally said...

Great story. Why can't we ever trust our instincts?