"I'm going to split, later!"

It all started and ended in April.

I was fed up with her response to me.

Later I would publish a status update: "What fucking ever!" Describing how I felt about our conversation that transpired.

Let's go back to the start though and answer how I got to such a nonchalant position.

Me and this lady let's call her: Blake a clever way to not say her name, but, if you knew who a famous Blake was you might get her name.

There was a solid two weeks worth of chatting. Then we arranged a day to hang out.

Friday

I decided to go to the Central. I've always liked that place, so that's where we met.

I was taken back by her at first. She looked way better in person. Her hair was better. To be honest, the medium length lego hair she had in her pictures was not good. However, the hair was a bit longer and looked better in non-pictures.

For the next two hours, I played basically talk show host to her. I didn't get any calls from Late Night though, offering me a job in 2014. It was like pulling teeth, getting her to open up.

So after four beers and two glasses of water each, we decided to leave.

I was invited back to her place on the chilly Friday night.

We strolled westwards on Bloor.

It was between Lansdowne & Dufferin.

I expected it to be some bed bug invested apartment complex. It turned out to be the opposite. I mean she didn't give the bed bug vibe off at all, but, still it is a problem in Toronto.

We smoked at the entrance to her place. Below a crowd were rowdy as apparently their was a strip club back patio area within viewing distance. I thought to myself how degrading. Not a fan of strip clubs.

The way to this ladies apartment was rather sketchy. The orange metallic staircase screamed of tetanus. The backyard was littered with junk and this was no American Pickers styled junk it was literally worthless crap. The alley way  by the neighbouring house looked like it probably had a couple of needles there, on top of the visible beer bottles & cans, cigarette buds, and broken cinder blocks.

My expectations were not good, going into this situation.

I was kind of wishing my lady friend was at her condo on the TTC Shepherd line.

Upon arriving into her place there was a bunch of empties and unopened cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon the White Trash Beer.

A neat "Welcome Home Blake" was visible from the entrance. I commented on that. How it was cool her roommates had that when she moved in. Apparently, they had a secret surprise party for her, and had invited her friends.

The one couch was a throw back to the 1970s, it didn't look too comfy. The kitchen was stacked full of unwashed plates and glasses.

I was shown where the washrooms were. It seemed suitable. Yikes to the individuals toothbrush that was leaning over the sink. All I could think of was hopefully dirty hands didn't touch it when someone was washing them.

A cool staircase leading down to some store that was below too.

As I entered her room, I was taken back. I just had this eerie feeling that I've been here before. The wooden floor creaked as I took off my Jack Bauer army green bag, and Burberry Leather Jacket.

Blake put on some music, and that set the mood. Clothes came off and I soon found myself making out with her.

I'm a phenomenal kisser so that lasted for a bit.

Petula Clark began singing in my head and I soon found myself "Downtown."

I'm a giver so that didn't bug me in the least.

She tried her best at making my volcano have an eruption. Many have ventured  but none have ever succeeded. It was actually getting kind of painful by their strategy. So we shifted to the main course.

It was somewhat fulfilling. Getting choked by her was kind of a what the fuck moment? I then began to reconsider my life choices.

I did like what this lady was about prior to coitus and even after it.

She did mention some kinks she had which was kind of intense. I didn't say anything about them.  The night was vanilla thank god.

Blake really had lovely green eyes. I've never seen such solid green eyes before.

Saturday

The next morning I went to the washroom, brushed my teeth and well was going to be on my merry way...

"Wait you had a tooth brush there? (You just might be saying). Well I always carry a toothbrush around with me; call me neurotic.

Fast forward my trot back to the room and I was ready to leave; but morning coitus occurred.

Then I was finally ready to leave. You know take your cue and don't overstay a welcome. However, that was nixed as she wanted me to wait for her to have a shower. I obliged and thought that the request was rather queer (adjective 1 strange; odd:).

I looked at my email to kill the time.

She had a morning smoke while I got a whiff of second hand smoke, real nice! I then walked down the tetanus loving stairs Richard Ashcroft Styles', my eyes burning due to the sunlight and being annoyed with myself for forgetting my sunglasses.

We said our farewells and maybe we'd do it again.

I was pointed towards the nearest train station. I ended up going to wrong way as I had a massive headache and wasn't thinking straight and in need of a cup of java.

Tuesday / Wednesday

I had resisted the urge to contact Blake. I got a message on Facebook (Apparently I still use it.) It was a decent chat at first but the ship then began to lose its rudder. I was once again to play talk show host. Engaging someone that doesn't say much is rather annoying.

Now I have never used individuals for sexual needs. I can go without sexual relations for a while. I was up to 3 months before Blake. If I had to be celibate I could do it, unlike some individuals in institutions that demand it.

So I was excited to arrange the next get together with Blake. I didn't show that excitement, as I mask my emotions and feelings. I wasn't eager either.


Prior to asking her out again, Blake was chatting about something that was rather boring, and she spelt the word "ridiculous" wrong numerous times. I think it was spelt: "rediculus"or some other butchered form. I made sure to correctly spell it and use it in a suitable context. I believe I agreed with how "ridiculous" their boring story was. It was done with noble intentions, so you know they would know how to spell the word correctly. That didn't work out. The inane spelling of the word continued. My brain started to hurt.

I asked them if they wanted to go out this week. They said it was a bad week since their rent is due and they will be broke. Then she said she wanted to focus on some art projects and crafts. I countered with the whole I would be taking her out. She stated that she likes being able to take herself out. Ignoring the fallacy in her argument since she did not take herself out the Friday that just past. I smelled bullshit. I'm fine with not wanting to go again. I'm not fine with games at 28 or excuses. I stated: "Look if you're not interested that's fine, I'm laid-back it won't hurt my feelings." Apparently, it was 'just a bad week' to do stuff. I was annoyed.

I ended the conversation on my terms with: "Fine, I'm going to split, have a decent rest of the night."

And so it goes...

The lady had mentioned prior to our rendezvous that she disappears and ignores people for awhile/ It pisses off her friends (You think? What's next the sky is blue?). In fact, they apologized for taking awhile to respond to a message. I found that odd since I didn't really care at the time and I was just getting to know the individual.

I texted her: "What going on?" on a Friday. Needless to say it didn't get a response, even though they were on facebook. I decided to delete her number off my phone. If she had texted me on Saturday she would have got my standard greeting to people's numbers I have deleted: "Who the fuck is this?" You seem said greeting happens because I would get annoying texts asking for Patricia. In fact, I got calls asking for Patricia. This Patricia lady used to have my phone number, before going to jail or forgetting to pay her bill. One day some creditor called and asked is this Patricia [Last name withheld] from such and such address. I replied: "No it isn't. I don't know nor do I care about said person, please stop bothering me." Furthermore, I am not going to pretend that you know my phone got erased and I lost all of my contacts or that I got a new phone or make up some bullshit excuse. The fact is I likely deleted your number because fickle, fair-weather and in turn I fired you from my life. So I didn't need to deal with that situation thankfully.

Sunday rolled around and I deleted them off my facebook. I wasn't going to listen to any excuse on why they couldn't reply with a short answer on how their weekend was going.

All in all, I was disappointed in myself. By allowing myself to be legitimately interested in getting to know more about this person.

I thought their behaviour was rather immature for a 28 year old, especially when they could have just been frank and said "not interested anymore."

To conclude, my intuition was right. I had wasted my time yet again with only myself too blame.