Monday, February 14, 2011

All About Abbie

Blah. I wrote this entry when I really wasn't feeling it. Sorry if it's not up to my usual standards of awesomeness. 

Yep, I've had some bad experiences with women. Take a gander through my blog and you'll read the Stalker saga, The Girl With the Growth Balloon, and The Ginger Set-Up for some of the worst examples. However, these are stories in which I am a reluctant victim. Sadly, my dating life doesn't fare much better. In the last year and a half, I've dated several women that have run the spectrum from messed up to shockingly selfish and unstable to apeshit fucking nuts. Welcome, dear readers, to a nice example of the latter. 

In late 2009 (late October to be exact), I met a girl through a friend. Let's call her Abbie for the sake of this entry as I don't want to smear her by putting her real name. Abbie was quite pretty, well fit, and a good conversationalist. She also loved Big Bang Theory which garnished her a lot of points. I liked her. We got along well enough. We seemed to be compatible and had several interests in common, notably our love for psychology. Things were progressing fairly well. 

Then, about late November 2009, Abbie called me at around one in the morning. The conversation started out mundane enough...she was telling me about her day. But, after about fifteen minutes, something happened. It was like the moon came out and she transformed into some sore of werebitch. She began to argue against EVERYTHING I said. I mentioned that I wasn't looking forward to digging my car out of the snow the next day and she began to berate me for complaining about the snow too much (I think I mentioned my discontent for snow once since I had met her). She complained about how her ancient computer was not functioning properly and I suggested she invest in a new one...she, of course, flipped out because I didn't respect that she was on a budget and that "we're not all nerds, Dave." At one point in the conversation I innocently said that she was getting riled up over nothing and maybe if she relaxed we could have a better conversation, and she totally spazzed out on me and told me that I don't have the right to tell her what to do...yeah.
As the "conversation" progressed, Abbie broke down and began to sob a bit. She revealed to me that she suffered from a rich tapestry of mental disorders, most notably a severe panic disorder. She told me that she was being so antagonistic because she was afraid of getting serious with me due to her issues. Mission accomplished. I decided it was best that we just be friends. We'd been dating a month and I had little invested. I didn't want to have a messed up girl on my arm. Judge me as you will. 

So we were just friends. It was working well. We went out for coffee a few times and I helped her to buy a new computer (lawl). Then one night in the middle of December, she called and asked if she could come to my apartment to work on a final essay, as there was renovations occurring in her home (she lived with her mum and her mum's boyfriend) and could not concentrate. I was just doing some cleaning so I figured it would be all right. She came over and worked on her essay. For three hours she sat on my loveseat and worked on her essay while I cleaned and milled around the house for a variety of reasons. Then, at around 8PM while I was using the computer, she looked over at me and said:
"Wanna have sex?" 
I turned to her and said "pardon?" because I couldn't have heard her correctly. She repeated herself and as it turns out I did hear correctly. I laughed, thinking it a joke, and she then said she was serious. She said she was bored and horny and wanted to have sex with me. 
Oh, dear reader, I fought her off. I stood my ground and said no. I said that we were just friends so it would be weird. She persisted and after about the third time she asked, I was like "ah, what the hell." Shut up...she was hot. We ended up fooling around, but never went awl-da-way because of a lack of available protection. 
I understand. Too much information.
Anyway, once the fooling around had ceased, she decided she wanted to leave. She was acting really weird and I knew why. We breached the friend code and she was now weirded out. I helped her dust off her car of snow and sent her on her way home. All was well...until about an hour later when I received a barrage of text messages accusing me of taking advantage of her in her delicate state. What in the shit??? What delicate state? She seemed perfectly fine and then got all randy. But apparently I'm an evil guy who took advantage. 

I had really had enough of Abbie by this point. But I didn't tell her to go fuck herself. Why, you ask? Why wouldn't I get rid of her since she was clearly insane and had no value to me as a friend? Well, to be blunt, she had ordered me a cool Christmas present and I wanted it. Judge me as you wish...but you all know you would have done the same if the present was super cool! Now get bent. 

So I stayed her "friend" but carefully avoided interactions as much as possible. I did not see her in person again until we were to exchange gifts. This was in early July because my gift for her was late arriving. It was a vintage Strawberry Shortcake doll. I got it for her because when I first met her she had told me about how she was once in the hospital and the girl in the bed next to hers received a Strawberry Shortcake doll for a gift. Abbie wanted the doll too but she never ever got one. Abbie cried when I gave it to her, which was a bit of a scene since we were in a busy Subway restaurant. I got my present and was pleased. I then had to head out to work. She asked if we would hang out again soon and I said sure. 
I lied. 

I dodged her calls for about a week, but the call frequency began to increase. I was having terrible flashbacks to my stalker, so I decided to nip this one in the bud. I answered the phone one day and suffered through a conversation. In this conversation, I told Abbie that I believed that men and women should be prepared for the consequences of having sex...basically, no matter how safe they are and what they are using as protection, there's still a risk of pregnancy, and so before sleeping together, people should accept the responsibility of what could happen. The reason I said this was because Abbie was talking about her single mother friend who was bitching and moaning about how hard her life was and how her ex fucked off and left her with the kids. Sure, the guy is a total dick and should have stayed and been responsible. But my point was that she should have considered the possibility that she would be left alone to raise children before she decided have them. Abbie told me that her friend was knocked up on accident, and then I went on my rant about how adults should take responsibility for the possible outcomes. 
At any rate, Abbie flipped out. She first accused me of being unfair and saying that women should be responsible but men can be as flaky as they want (which was not even remotely true...I told her that both parties should accept responsibility). She refused to listen when I was correcting her. And then...oh, and then...
Abbie blurted out "so then you must believe that all the people who died in Haiti deserved to die because they should have accepted the consequences of living there." This was, of course, in reference to the January 12, 2010 earthquake that devastated Port-au-Prince. 
Oh. My. God. I was seeing red. Not only was her argument illogical, but it essentially accused me of thinking it's fine that thousands of people died because they "deserved it." I was in a store and I still raised my voice on the phone. I told her off firmly and rudely. I explained that she was a fucking idiot because it wasn't the same type of thing at all...the people who live there were born there and many too poor or unable to leave even if they wanted to, the children who died didn't get to make the decision to live there or not, AND the occurrence of an earthquake in that part of the world was quite unlikely. It was not at all like a man and a woman consensually deciding to have intercourse without considering the possible consequence of a child.

Abbie was speechless. I blew her right out of the proverbial water and she had no counter argument. After a few moments of awkward silence, I told her that I was disgusted that she had the audacity to suggest I would think such a thing (about the Haiti disaster) and I told her that I wanted nothing to do with her ever again. I hung up and did not answer when she called back. 

I don't know why it is I attract the who's who of human crap. Perhaps it's because I'm a good listener and a safe target. Perhaps it's because I give off some sort of nuts-as-hell pheromone. Perhaps it's because I'm hot. But whatever the reason, I don't deserve it. Therefore, I must develop some sort of crazyspray that I can spray on people I meet. If the person on whom I spray the crazyspray starts to sing showtunes, I'll know they're crazy and get the eff out of there. So if there are any backwards-as-fuck chemists out there who are just mad enough to help me out, send me an email and we'll get this crazyspray invented and marketed. We'll be rich. 
Until then, I'll just have to assume crazy until proven normal. 

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