Posts tagged Middle School

I’ve asked out a lot of guys.  Like.. a lot.  I’m not one to hold in my feelings and it’s partially because I don’t want to waste a huge chunk of my life pining over someone who could quite possibly be completely uninterested in me.  I like to just throw it all out there and hope it works out.

It never does.  I can’t remember any guy ever responding in the affirmative to my come-on. 

I once saw an episode of “Friends” where Rachel and Monica were discussing how they’d never asked a guy out on a date.  Phoebe then happily admitted she’d asked out a bunch of guys.. then she realized she sounded pathetic, and the other girls felt sorry for her. 

I used to date a guy who didn’t like Garden State or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind because he felt the female characters were obnoxiously forward.  I was hurt when he said that because I loved those movies so much because I felt like those two women were exactly like me.

I guess I’ve just learned that men don’t so much like women to be forward, nor do they seem to like women who are me.  I like that I’m forward and blunt and I kind of think dudes are dicks for thinking ill of me for that. But it kind of seems like everyone thinks it’s weird and inappropriate for a girl to ask out a guy.  I think you’re all assholes and I hope you burn in hell.. but I also hope you’ll read my story.

I’m here to share with you one of my favorite asking-a-dude-out horror stories.

I was in 7th grade and was annoyingly over-developed for my age.  I didn’t have huge boobs, as my good friend Tronvika so kindly pointed out one day, even though on that day I was wearing my brown floral bathing suit top as a bra precisely because I thought it made my boobs look bigger.  So I wasn’t very developed in the chest area, but I was taller than the other girls and bigger all around in a way that made me look like I was in high school instead of middle school.  This allowed me the unique experience of being sexually harassed by two boys in my class who used to follow me around during recess making remarks about my butt and calling me “the queen of swing” because of how much I swung my hips.  That wasn’t the first time I’d been told I swing my hips excessively.  My cousin’s cunty friend, Jonna, once mentioned it while we were bowling together and I haven’t bowled since.  A little dramatic, but I suppose that’s just who I am.

The two boys who harassed me were a sleazy-looking boy named Billy, who I actually think back fondly on.  He was a nice boy who had a crush on me, but who just didn’t know how to approach it without seeming like a creep.  Yes, he wore sweat pants to school, often had pit stains, and didn’t seem to enjoy shampoo, but I feel like he was pretty pleasant overall.  The other boy was named Michael and he was someone who both my friend and I asked out on the same day.  I asked him out on her behalf, and she asked him out on mine.  He rejected both of us.  I think even then I was misconstruing kindness for flirtation and it made me feel attached to him even though he was simply being a nice boy.  That’s not even my rejection story, so I suppose you’re getting a two for the price of one deal here.

The real rejection came from a boy named Matt Shamus.  I admired him from afar but wasn’t very good at keeping it a secret.  I didn’t want to, even then.  I was only 11, but I was already sick of games.  I say that to be funny, but I’m not sure what the real reason was for my wanting to express my feelings for this young boy who I knew was far too good-looking and popular to ever date someone like me.  I think sometimes I just need to hear the words of rejection in order to get over my this-can’t-turn-out-well crush.  But his best friend, Adam, found out that I liked Matt and he assured me that Matt would say yes if I were to ask him to be my boyfriend.  I was skeptical, but I was also very determined to make him love me and was also full of bravery because of it, like when Renee Zellwegger gives Russell Crowe the courage to fight in Cinderella Man.  So I readied myself and I decided to ask him out in the middle of recess one day.  He was sitting on the edge of the planter outside of my classroom and it seemed like everyone in the school knew what I was about to do.  I walked past a long row of popular students who stared at me in shock and disbelief - or at least it felt that way at the time - and I approached Matt, who stayed sitting.  I said, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?”  He lifted his head and showed his braces in a smug smile as he said, “I can’t”.  I just walked away and I don’t remember if anyone spoke to me afterward or what reactions his response elicited from the assholes around me.  Adam approached me either right then or later that day and said, “Man, you asked him to go out and he’s not allowed to go out.  You have to ask him to be your boyfriend.”  And I basically said no fucking way am I putting myself out there like that again, only to be potentially humiliated once more in front of a school full of people who already hate me because my shoes have psychedelic polka dots on them, my pants look like I “got them out of the garbage”, and I don’t wear name brand clothing. 

I still don’t know if Matt really liked me, but he certainly never asked me out or to be his girlfriend, which isn’t exactly against the rules.  But Adam did stand up for me once when I was being picked on so badly that I ended up never returning to that school again.  He told the bitches surrounding me in the field of our school that I was a “nice girl” and they shouldn’t pick on me.  He usually looked like a 13-year old version of Art Alexakis from Everclear, but in that moment he looked more like my knight in shining armor.  I think I only avoided having a crush on him because he was dating the most terrifying psycho bitch in school.  I still appreciate him standing up for me because I think it’s the only reason I didn’t get punched that day.  So regardless of whether or not Matt Shamus liked my swinging behind or not, I’m inclined to believe that Adam was legit… 2 legit 2 quit.

And I’m still that same girl.  I still want far too badly to be fantasized about, yearned for, and dreamed of.  I seek attention just as much as any other annoying girl who didn’t get enough of it as a kid, or teenager, or ever.  And I still don’t understand why I feel what I feel or why the fuck I can’t just shut my mouth and get over it.  I think I put too much effort into being perfect in hopes of being admired and looked up to and sometimes a motherfucker just wants to make some bad decisions and act like a selfish bitch.