So sometimes.  I have to tell a story.  Because I just have to.  Because it’s in the timeline of my life.  In the timeline of my dating.  And it’s entirely possibly you don’t care.  But I have to say it anyway.  Because it’s a piece of the puzzle.  The puzzle of Something She Dated.  The puzzle of me.  Fuck.  Just let me tell  you the story already.

2.5 weeks.  That’s all that’s left.  Until school starts again.  Which is mostly only relevant to potential “somethings” in the sense that in 2.5 weeks.  Their clock.  Is up.  Buzzer sound.  If they haven’t started the race by then.  They’ll be disqualified.  And perhaps they can try again during Christmas break.  Or reading week in February.  Or next April.  Maybe.

Detour.  So we all know I like words.  I mean.  Christ.  I’m a writer.  Studying Literature.  It doesn’t get much more wordy than that.  Oh.  Except when I remind you all that my favorite words include Lozenge and Raccoon (which I pronounce rah-coon not raa-coon).  But more so than just words.  Is the hilarity that words can cause.  A simple situation.  Is a simple situation.  Until you add irony.  And connection.  And themes.  Man I love themes. 

Back on Track.  So there I am.  Looking around on plentyoffish.com.  For quite possibly one of the last times before school.  When who should message me.  But a law student.  And we all know I’ve been dying to catch myself a smarty-pants fish.  And for reference.  He’s tall.  And cute.  So I think why not.  Can’t hurt.  Just to chat.  But then a couple details come out.  He’s from here.  But going back to school in Winnipeg in 6 days.  But this is perfect.  And let me tell you why.

1.  I like a smarty-pants
2.  Um…he’s cute…and tall (presumably…we all know my luck with this lol!)
3.  A fling is fun
4.  If all goes well, perhaps I will have someone already lined up to keep me warm during Christmas break

But here’s the big one.  The clincher.  The reason for all this lead on and build up.  The tie in, if you will.

5.  He is a law student + Clearly if meeting was good to go it would be first date Total Slutamonium + Let’s not forget the recent experience that caused the creation of Lindsay’s Law = A Law Student Finds A Loop Hole In Lindsay’s Law.  I mean this shit just writes itself.  Yes No?

So reason #5 would probably have been enough for me.  I mean quite frankly.  Like I said.  I’m a friggin’ sucker for a funny story/awesome experience/hilarious irony/potentially great sexcapade.  But even so, I was still glad for #’s 1-4.  So after a great deal of chatting and texting.  We decide to meet.  During basically the busiest weekend I’ve had all summer.  No biggie right.  What could go wrong?

Thursday:  I’m way too busy.  Can’t possibly meet at any point during the day.  He is very eager.  But I can’t.  Simple.  Case closed.  So we aim for Friday.

Friday:  I know I’ll be A. downtown and B. free around 9:30pm.  So we make plans.  He’s going out for beers with buddies.  He’ll be ready around then.  I text.  I’m finished with my plans…are you still down for hanging out?  And you won’t believe his response.  I mean you will in a online dating boys are fucking douchebags so often it’s ridiculous but you won’t in a is this boy retarded…nobody puts SSDated in the corner (or something like that).  His response:  I think I’m going to stay at the bar for awhile.  Um…hey douchebag?  Were you under the impression I would A. think that response was of an acceptable excitement level to meet me or B. wait for your ass?  Boy.  Please.  So obviously I threw up the deuces (metaphorically) and went home.  20 minutes later.  He texts:  Still Downtown.  Nope.  That’s all I say.  Nope.  Because nobody likes Angry Annie.

Saturday:  He messages.  So apologetic.  So sorry.  So wants to make it up to me and blah blah blah.  But the thing is.  I’m not free.  All day busy.  And at night I have 2 events to go to.  But he’ll wait up for me he says anytime I want to hang out.  Yeah.  Dude.  Like I want to meet a stranger (who may or may not be retarded) at 2am…seriously?  I tell him I’ll consider it lol.  But the thing is.  This all becomes irrelevant.  **TMI WARNING***  As throughout the evening.  It becomes an inconvenient time of the month.  So the question becomes.  Do I consider meeting him the next day.  Even though.  Well.  To be frank.  There would be no sex???  I mull this thought over throughout the evening with a new friend.  We decide.  I’ll text.  Just tell him what’s up.  And go from there.  I was supposed to wait till the next day to do it.  lol but when I texted to say I wouldn’t be meeting up that night.  He was so damn persistent I eventually just spilled it.  Fortunately.  Er…Um…unfortunately he was okay with “the situation”.  Honestly.  A bit too okay.  Like thinking sex was still on the table.  Um no.  Thanks though on behalf of women everywhere for being cool with it….but no…I’m not.  We decide to meet for coffee the following night.

Sunday:  The plan is to meet for coffee.  Because see.  I was still technically busy.  I was supposed to have dinner and hit the town with my bro (his girl, my cousin and his girl).  So the plan.  I would meet Law Student around 5…dinner at 7…hit the town with the fam…and assuming coffee had gone well and he still thought I was hot and I still thought he wasn’t a serial killer…we would hook up afterwards.  And then sometime around 330pm.  He hits me with it.  Umm…so I think I should probably spend tonight with my dad, ya know spend some time with him before I go back to school.

Um…What.  The.  Fuck.  And that’s kind of what I said.  Or at least insinuated.  And that’s when he lays it on me.  The oxymoron.  Yeah I guess I’m kind of er…um…indecisive.  An indecisive lawyer (law student)??? like what the fuck dude.  You will not be going far in this career methinks.  But either way.  I had to draw the line on the douchebaggery.  So I hit a little control/block/delete (see how I played off of ctrl/alt/delete there…just wanted to make sure you caught that…the reboot ya know   And there you have my non-experience with the non-lawyer.

Though as my brother pointed out to me (quite astutely I might add).

How do you know he’s a law student.  Because he told you?

Aww fuck me.  *palm to forehead*  So that my friends…is the story of the Indecisive Lawyer…He’s an (oxy)Moron.  Fuck I Love Online Dating.