I'd Typically Rather Watch TV and Eat Oreos

So here’s the thing, and yes, it probably makes me a bad person: whenever I’m hanging out with someone that I don’t like, I’ll typically be spending the time faking enthusiasm while concurrently  thinking about all the things I’d rather be doing. 

For example: 

1. I’d rather be cleaning up after a herd of elephants that all recently aggressively ate at Chipotle. 
2. I’d rather be using poison ivy as toilet paper. 
3. I’d rather be that person eating a tuna fish sandwich on an airplane. 

Which, in general, means that on any given night, I’d rather be hanging out with people that I know I like instead of spending a bunch of dollars to (basically) spend time with strangers and have awkward, stifled conversations about the weather and where I’m from. But I keep being told that I should date more and eventually procreate so that I can birth a new generation of similarly misanthropic progeny. Not a desirable end goal, but I saw the value in having arm candy for holiday party season.

Marketing Scumbag

I met Marketing Scumbag at one of the gyms on campus where he made some kind of half-assed comments about working out and we started a conversation. He was tall, cute, had maybe 10+ years on me, but I didn’t mind - he was nice enough. About a week later he asked if I wanted to join him at a First Night party at a gallery. I did my part to look awesome (black lipstick can be glam and awesome, I don’t care what you say). He was really complimentary, but while we were out he didn’t actually talk to me. He introduced me to friends, put his hand on my back while talking to people he knew… but didn’t try to get to know me, and the strange person that I am. And his introductions fell into a very strange cadence: “Hi, [Name], how are you doing? I’m fantastic! This is Adrienne, she’s 24 and works at Google”. Um. Okay. I was unaware that who I am is solely encapsulated with my age and my job, but I guess my personality and interests don’t really matter. When I realized I’d rather be re-watching the scene of Mufasa dying in the Lion King, I politely excused myself and explored the party, whereupon I met…

Fat Channing Tatum

My kryptonite is a man in a well-tailored suit. It’s tasteful, elegant, and feeds perfectly into a series of fantasies in which in a gorgeously suited young Sean Connery/Daniel Craig enters my evil lair and I get to look up and kittenishly ask, “Yes, Mr. Bond?”. And this guy’s suit was perfect. We started e-mailing and he asked me out for coffee. When I met him for coffee… he wasn’t what I remembered. I remembered stylish and mysterious. The guy I met for coffee was not those things. And I wouldn’t have minded, but all he had to talk about was his modeling career (yeah… no) and his acting career (once again… no). I’d rather be licking the floor of a sports bar at 9pm on Superbowl Sunday. 

Other Adrienne

Met a guy named Adrian. We both flipped out because we had the same name. Then he started sending really awkward text messages with pictures of him shirtless and asking me what kinds of massage oils I tend to prefer. I’d rather be playing leapfrog with a unicorn. 

Giant Child

When I moved to the bay area, plenty of people were kind enough to tell me about their friends in the area, and one of them happened to be a coworker, but on a different team. We met for dinner one night on campus, and he asked me on a date. I shower up at his apartment exactly when he asked me to, and  he was getting going strong on a single-player Resident Evil game, and he spent 2 hours insisting he was “almost done” and we’d go out and do something after he got to a good checkpoint. To be perfectly honest, this is an activity I’m totally fine with… if I’ve known you for awhile and we weren’t going to get dinner and I wasn’t hangry. But I spent 2 hours thinking, "I’d rather be rubbing butter all over Carrot Top’s creepy ginger chest hair”.

Snobby Hipster

Out one night in downtown SF, I took to Twitter to look for a cocktail recommendation at a bar I hadn’t hit before. The person with whom I tweeted ended up being there, and bought me the cocktail he most recommended. He was cool, read aggressively and was deeply into NPR and his vinyl collection. A typography enthusiast, he worked at Adobe and described himself a “Finnish Finn from Finland” Oh yes ladies and gents… we had ourselves a hipster. I was going to be out again the next week with some friends to celebrate a birthday, and I asked him along. He was a great dinner date, and all of my friends liked him enough, but when he asked me back to his place, the thought of putting my hands anywhere on him made me realize… I’d rather brush my teeth while drinking orange juice. Going out with someone nice is always… nice. But I’m young and foolish and I’d rather spend time with someone that makes me smile like a geek and giggle awkwardly and that I kind of want to jump 24/7.

There were others, with some really non-notable stories. One was generally nice and agreeable but lived about 2 hours away. One worked for a news station and their only consistent free time included the hours between 8am and 1pm. One seemed to be allergic to shirts. In general, I’d rather be giving Joseph Stalin a foot job than continuing to go out with random people.

As of now, let’s just say that I’m not quite at the level of adopting cats, learning to knit and drinking alone. 

Other fun updates:

• The torn ligament in my foot is healing slowly, I almost have a normal gait, and I’m maybe a month away from running again. 
• Winter holiday party season was AWESOME. Watching your coworkers get drunk is really entertaining. 
• Spent Thanksgiving with family in Marin and Christmas Eve with friends.
• My friend Greg is moving to California, and his flight comes in tonight around 2am, so I’m going to go to bed so that I can get in a few hours of shuteye before I pick him up from his redeye. 
• More to follow! I have a new Adventure to share, and it was beautiful.