Dear John - Goodbye

In my last post, I wrote a little about John, seen below: 

He looks like a nice, normal guy, right?

Friends, John is a psycho. Since our first date, he has proven to be a clingy, attention-seeking individual with low self-esteem. I'm all for helping people, but I'm not looking for a charity case for a boyfriend.

John and I made plans that last Saturday we would go to a baseball game together. John let me know that he couldn't make it Saturday because he was called away for work at a stadium. We planned to see a game last Sunday instead. I didn't hear from John and sent him a text. The following was said:

Notice the weekend radio silence about him being in the hospital. "I am at the hospital." Now, I have no idea whether he's in the hospital, or someone else is in the hospital, or who the hell is in the hospital and for what. Clearly, he would have been able to give me some kind of detail if he was able to squeak out "I am at the hospital." I didn't appreciate the radio silence the rest of the weekend. To me, it screamed that he wanted attention. It turned out I was right. Read on: 

In between the Monday and Tuesday texts, there was one phone call where he told me about what really happened. John wasn't in the hospital at all (shocker). One of the workers he was with fell from a high altitude and John had to exert heroic rescue efforts to save him (shocker). Another call for attention. My friend "Kristy" told me about a wine tasting event in town that sounded like a lot of fun. I wanted check it out, so I wanted to see if John would want to do that instead. Look at his response: 

First of all, what the f* is an "alcoholy"? And he doesn't have good grammar. Anyone who is a native English speaker who doesn't know the difference between their, there, and they're  (or you're and your) is an idiot. His joke about calling me an "alcoholy" rubbed me the wrong way, but whatever. We agreed to meet at 6:45, since the event started at 7 and the invitation said to arrive early. 

John was late, but I gave him a break for that one. I was on the phone with another friend on my way there which was why I didn't text John back. Regardless, his ass should have been on time. He didn't arrive until 10 past 7. My friend Kristy was there too. 

When John entered, I was impressed by his outfit. He had a nice, pressed dress shirt on. He had nice shoes. He had nice jeans. He looked clean-cut. He sat next to me, and then he put his phone in my purse. WTF!? Red flag. 

For those who don't know, a woman's purse is sacred. Not just anyone can go into a woman's purse. A woman's purse is the extension of her home - her essentials are in there. For anyone else to invade that space is the equivalent of an invasion of privacy. 

The wine tasting event turned out to be a total bust. Instead of a true wine tasting, it turned out to be a pitch for a pyramid scheme! During the pitch, I looked around the room to see what was going through the minds of other people. Surely there still aren't idiots in the world that fall for these pyramid schemes? 

One of the people must have been in sync with me because they asked one of the sellers, flat out, if this was a pyramid scheme. 

"No no no! We are not a pyramid scheme. All you need to do is recruit two people, and then those two people each need to recruit two more people, and so on down the chain." 

As he said this, he illustrated the formation with two fingers... forming a pyramid. 

Despite the bull sh*t event, we didn't want to be rude. Kristy and I came up with a plan to leave, one at a time, discreetly. I told John the plan. John said, "But my phone is in your purse." I handed it back to him, thinking at this point he was a total dumbass for putting his phone in there in the first place. The three of us left, one at a time, in a discreet manner. I formally introduced John and Kristy to each other. John seemed very cordial and friendly. 

We then left to a nearby restaurant and sat in the bar area for some drinks and appetizers. At first, John was very chatty with me and Kristy. His demeanor started to change. He wasn't joining in the conversation, and he was making a lot of back-handed remarks towards both Kristy and me. 

Now, you might be thinking, "Well she was the third wheel. So he was probably irritated." Is that really an excuse for being rude to someone? A gentleman should always be a gentleman. 

John also revealed that he had been engaged before. Kristy and I gave our condolences for the death of the engagement. I asked John how long ago it ended, and what the reason was for the engagement ending.

"It was a year ago, and I can't talk about it. It's too painful."

Too painful? Baggage alert! Red flag! Red flag! 

He then went on to tell us that he goes to therapy regularly for chronic depression. Another red flag! Now, remember that I went to counseling for ten months to make sense of my past abusive relationship, but I didn't have chronic depression, and I certainly was not in the same emotional storm that I was two years ago. He definitely had some issues he still needed to work on. I fully encourage counseling and therapy. There certainly is nothing wrong it, but I am cautious about people who have a chronic condition. 

John then made another cry for attention. He asked Kristy and I what we thought about a movie idea. He laid it out like this, with me peppering him with questions along the way. 

"Okay, so there's this girl."

"What's her age?"

"She's like, 20s." 

"Okay, go on." 

"Okay so there's this girl, and there's this man - they call him Old Man Henry." 

"Old Man Henry? So is he the town creeper? Is he a serial killer?" 

"No, no. That's just what they call him. He's nice. He's the girl's uncle. He takes care of her because her parents died." 

"Okay." 

"Okay, so Old Man Henry dies, and she's sad about it. So one day she goes to a lake with some friends of hers, and she's sad, and then she tells her friends she's going for a walk." 

"Is this a horror story? Does the uncle haunt her?" 

"No. Not a horror story. But she goes on this walk, and goes into an abandoned house, and then she finds all this stuff about her uncle in the house and some other woman. And it makes her wonder about his life. And then that's where the story begins." 

He smiled at me and Kristy, with a smug smile on his face, as if he had just surpassed Steven Spielberg himself and already won the Golden Globes and Oscars. 

Kristy, not one to pull any punches, immediately launched into her opinion. 

"It sucks! Where's the grab? What's the interest?" 

John looked at me and asked me what I thought. 

"Well, I mean, I don't see what's attractive about it either. It sounds like a boring beginning. Maybe if there was more spice to the beginning." 

Kristy jumped in again, "Yes! What is the grab? This story needs a good kick. There's no kick! There's no grab! If this was a book I'd throw it in the garbage!" 

Then John tried to redeem himself. "Well, my friend, who wins a lot of indie movie film awards and does filmmaking, and I are doing a movie together and I'm coming up with the story line. That's why I wanted to know what you thought." I felt bad. 

"Maybe work on the story a little more?" 

John became more withdrawn. I think we triggered his depression. John then became animated again and decided to pick a fight with me. 

"Okay, let me ask you this! What happens if you don't show up for jury duty?" 

"You can be held in contempt of court." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means that the judge can fine you or put you in jail." 

"Okay well, what if my address isn't updated?" 

"Why wouldn't your address be updated?" 

"What if I just moved?" 

"I don't know - probably not. You're supposed to keep your address updated. It's a misdemeanor if you don't." 

John then continued with about ten other scenarios, as if he were a little child with a wild imagination, asking me over and over "What if this" and "What if that," including what if he was out of the country. Finally I asked him, "Why are you asking me all these scenarios? Did you just get summoned for jury duty and you're trying to figure out how to get out of it? I don't get it." 

"Well you work in the courts so I want to know!" 

"But WHY? I don't control the jury system. That's not my domain. I don't understand why we're having this discussion. It's bizarre." 

He stared at me very weirdly. "Okay, I won't talk about it anymore!" He turned his face away from me and put his hand over his mouth. What the hell kind of reaction was this? 

Kristy looked at me and her eyes said to me, "Who the hell is this guy?" 

I decided to cut the night short. I asked for our checks. John didn't offer to pay for my bill. Red flag number three. 

The three of us walked out of the restaurant. Kristy and I walked next to each other. John walked ahead of us, not looking at us at all. He was like a robot. 

"Hey, have a good night!" I shouted at him. 

"Yeah, you too!" he shouted back, not looking at me at all. 

Kristy said, "I feel bad. Should you go talk to him?" 

"Hell no! Why would I do that? He's being a dick. Let him go be a dick." 

Kristy and I went to sit at another nearby restaurant to chat about the night and what a freaking weirdo John was. I decided to pull the plug on John. After I sent the following text messages, John tried calling me. I let it go to voicemail. 

I had to think about whether I was going to give this bad and bizarre behavior a third shot. I decided not to give him any openings. I sent the following text the next morning:

I then promptly blocked his phone number, as well as blocked him on Snapchat. Let's be real - if the guy can have a Jekyll-Hyde reaction over two dates, imagine how he'd react after a text like that! It was time to give John the final goodbye.

Note that I didn't even give him the opening to be friends with me. Let's be real here - some guys think that being friends means that they can someday have another opening. I didn't want to give John that kind of hope. I had to crush that hope, and crush it I did.

I'm sure that John, someday, will find the right woman, just as I will find the right man.

We're just not right for each other.