I Was A Castrating Bitch On Valentine's Day -- And It Kind Of All Worked Out

Remember that whole song and dance about me being the worst at dating? Yeah, well. Here you go.

Feb 15, 2013 at 4:00pm | Leave a comment

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Here I am, glowing like an angel, on Valentine's Day at the Rejection Show in Brooklyn.

I've had three good dates with the Comedian. He hits all the right cylinders: intelligence, humor (he's funnier than I am, which I love, and rarely say about dudes), great physical chemistry, kindness and overall goodness as a person.

We were supposed to have our fourth date on Wednesday because he had a show and I had a show on Valentine's Day, but then I canceled the day before because I felt like a period-y asswreck of a human being. I asked him if we could reschedule. He didn't write back, and I started thinking about what a friend of mine says: That if a guy is actually into you, he should want to "binge-watch you" like his favorite show on Netflix.

One of her other tests is that if a guy is Not Actually Into You -- instead of making a specific date plan, he'll just say, "Yeah let's get together this weekend."

Eventually, the Comedian rescheduled to Monday. But it took a minute.

And it made me uneasy. It made me Incredible-Hulk-like start to transform into a bit of a Defensive Castrating Bitch Monster.

Oh, speaking of which? If anyone ever needs to hire my castrating bitch services because they are too kind and believing the best in human beings, I think I'm going to start offering my consulting professionally (you too can die alone! no refunds!).

Because last night I did this for a good friend of mine who I love dearly, but has a tendency to let men just walk all over her.

OK, this is a side story from the Comedian, but it's worth it -- and related, and I was told the story on Valentine's Day when my friend "Christina" came and saw me perform. So Christina had been seeing this guy for a few weeks. He said he really wanted to see her. It was pretty much just sex, but he would always say things to her about being jealous that she might "have another boyfriend" and shit like that.

(This is my biggest pet peeve with guys. Like, dudes, we can TAKE IT if you just want to fuck us. A lot of us even just look for this kind of relationship at times. But when you play us with the faux-relationship bullshit, that is just some bad karma. Seriously. Don't play us like that. It's super gross, and real men don't do it.)

So last night -- on Valentine's Day, on the cab ride back from the show I did -- Christina relayed this whole tale to me about this asshat guy and showed me all the texts of what had gone down between them. Like, Christina never sees the long game some men might be playing, and she tends to get hurt again and again.

Dear Too-Trusting Women Like My Friend Christina: Please know that there are wonderful men out there and often when they say wonderful things, they are true! But if the actions are not consistent with the words, then THEY ARE FULL OF SHIT, and they are playing you. They are fucking playing you, and you best kick their ass to the curb, because they are full-on Time Wasters, and the onus is on you if you let yourself get played like that again and again.

Christina's story went like this: Dude said he wanted to see her.

Um, yeah, of course he did, because HE WANTED TO FUCK HER. I've had multiple three-ways with good old Christina, and her vagina is a fucking crack pipe for men. I've witnessed it more than once. Also, hot tip? If you're having a three-way, best not to ask the guy to compare vaginas. This one suicidal French doctor we had sex with in his all-painted-black room, when I asked him to "give notes" on our lady parts, he said, "Wellll, they are jusss deeferent."

That's my French accent, I hope you liked it.

I squealed, "Oh, my God, that's what you say when someone's vagina is better!"

"No, no, no," he insisted, "they are both verrrry nice vaginas. Jusss deeferent." And then he lit a cigarette, and said he was worried he had cancer.

So, yeah. IT WAS PRETTY EROTIC.

But back to Christina's new asshat guy. Because Christina is too nice, she told him when he said he wanted to see her -- for just sex obviously, she suggested okay, maybe they could see each other Thursday. He then left her a voicemail that made my jaw drop it was so dickish.

"Hey Christina," he said, aggressively disinterested in his tone, "so I just realized, Thursday is actually Valentine's Day so we're going to have to get together another day. Text me back. I guess. If you want."

Dick dick dick. Dick to win all dicks.

Christina didn't even get this was dickish, but she sensed that it was weird. (She believes the best in people, so it's hard for to understand that someone might sadistically just enjoy fucking with women, which this guy clearly likes to do.)

Christina texted him back and said, "Oh, I just realized that my friend [that's me!] has a show on Thursday I've committed to. Thanks for reminding me it's Valentine's Day. I could probably get you a ticket if you're interested. Let me know."

Ugh. Way too nice. Then he doesn't text back, and she begins to realize he was kind of being an asshole. Then she does something that I have told her not to do (because I've done it in the past, and it's a big mistake -- and annoying to boot).

She texts him, "You know you mentioned to me that you were immature before, but I guess I'm just now starting to see that. I hope that you realize that when you take responsibility, it's the only way you can begin to make a shift in your life." Christina is into New Age stuff, so, yeah, she talks like that.

I was like, "Christina, dude. Talk to your girlfriends that way because we don't take it as annoying, but seriously, who are you -- God? Work on yourself, and don't be going around telling dudes they need to 'shift' shit in their life. I mean, of course I agree with you, but homeboy dickhead doesn't deserve that speech, and even if he was a good guy, it's fucking annoying and prescriptive and codependent and giving away your power. And just, yeah. Stop that shit."

This douche texts back to her little speech: "Omg, shhh."

Christina texts back, sweetly -- as she is -- to kind of just end the whole discussion: "All good. :)"

He texts back: "No."

She writes: "No?"

He texts: "No!"

She writes: "Huh?"

He texts: "Bad Christina."

And then she replies way too earnestly, like not realizing he's trying to do that whole I'm-a-sexy-powerful-man-telling-you-about-yourself teasing shit, she writes: "No. You are the one who is bad."

Then he writes, and this is what truly floored me: "Talking to you is like talking to my dog. I mean that as a complement."

Yes, he spelled "compliment" that way.

Christina says to me, "What is that supposed to mean? I love his dog. I like his dog more than I like him, actually. And she's a really smart dog."

At this point I screamed at her, "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME HE JUST COMPARED YOU TO A DOG. HE JUST SAID YOU HAVE THE INTELLIGENCE OF A FUCKING DOG WHO REVELS IN PISS AND SHIT AND LIKES TREATS AND THAT IS THE MOST INSULTING SHIT I'VE EVER HEARD."

"But I love dogs," Christina said. "I think they're smart."

She had already texted him this reply: "Communication with you is confusing."

Because, honestly, it's like hard for Christina to comprehend that this guy, who she has slept with multiple times, could be such a fucking worthless cruel sadistic cunt. That he could be acting as awfully as he was.

Then he tried to call her, and I said, "You are NOT answering that phone."

"Are you sure?' she said.

"Good God, yes," I said, and I took her phone. I started to type a reply to him, and said, "Don't worry, you only need to send it if you want, but this is what this guy deserves."

I wrote: "So insulting on so many levels, and it's spelled 'compliment,' genius. Maybe your dog can help you with your literacy. I'm with friends. Don't have time for this kind of thing. Later."

She looked at it and said, "Oh, my God, I could never come up with something that bitchy. That's really good. Okay, I'm hitting send."

She said with a laugh, "His head is like exploding right now. I never talk to him like that. Look, he's writing back right now, he's going crazy. His head is probably spinning."

He responded: "Huh! Christina, I am so joking. You know that I thought. And autocorrect sometimes misspells. I'll beat you in a spelling bee any day. Now I'm :("

"Good," I said. "And you are never writing that asshole again or taking his calls."

"Yeah," she said, "I do just feel this kind of gross energy around him now that I think about it. He kind of makes my skin crawl."

Then we decided -- AS ONE DOES -- to delete the entire thread in her text conversation history on her phone so she didn't have to look at that misogynist fuckhole's words anymore. Then she showed me another guy pursuing her, who was legitimately pursuing her, and was kind and nice but she wasn't as "excited" by.

This is such a common mistake women (myself included) can make. Seeing the push-pull bullshit of an asshole as "excitement," since he isn't man enough to provide actual chemistry. Fuck that noise. See through the illusion, because that's all it is.

So that was Christina's Valentine's Day. Back to me and my Comedian's shitshow of a V-Day -- and my perhaps tendency to go too far in the opposite direction of aggressive over-vigilance against dudes at the first sign of mistreatment or non-appreciation or not showing through actions a demonstration of care and kindness.

So after canceling on the Comedian the day before Valentine's Day and then him rescheduling, in a very funny delightful fashion for Monday, that awful holiday came. We emailed about something else. No, "Happy Valentine's Day" from him. Nothing.

The last couple of boyfriends I've dated all knew that the holiday is idiotic, but it's like a birthday. You just say the acknowledgement of it, even if it's two to three little words. Words cost nothing. "Happy birthday." Free. "Happy Valentine's Day." Zero charge.

The only reason you wouldn't say it, my brain calculated, is if you were terrified of giving any kind of wrong impression -- like fucko the clown with my friend Christina who actually CANCELED a date because it was Valentine's Day, the ultimate dick move -- that you might be into someone and were taking the dating as a real thing. That you cared about the person. That you wanted to express affection.

And at 4:30pm, as I went to my bodega, and the bodega guy gave me a rose and wished me, "Happy Valentine's Day," and then a cute construction worker I always see wished me a "Happy Valentine's Day," and every fucking guy around the city surrounded me carried their bouquets of flowers and chocolates and teddy bears and every other goddamned commercialized-sanctioned expression of love, my stomach started to sink.

Why had this guy not even wished me a motherfucking Happy Valentine's Day? I hate that stomach sink feeling. To me, it's my self-care alert. Like, don't lie to yourself. You've done this enough in your life. You've justified other people's bad unkind behavior enough times for several lifetimes, and you are worth more than that. You're fucking amazing.

You don't need to suck it up and settle for some guy who doesn't even put in minimal effort -- because you deserve someone who is compassionate, considerate and thoughtful. Someone who asks about your day. Someone who thinks about how you might be feeling as the flower-holding zombies swarm around you like face-eating monsters.

So I emailed him -- continuing a thread we had been talking about in relation to comedy: "Hey, I think you're a very very funny comic. I'm totally disillusioned you haven't even wished me Happy Valentine's Day though. Kind of shitty. But you're a cool person. I think you are hysterical and you are my friend."

Send.

I talked to Jane about it -- AS ONE DOES -- and she said, "Well, he may think it's too early to wish you that."

And I said, "Yep. And that's fine, but I'm just not at that place in my life. I completely stand by what I wrote. To me it's the little things. And if you're too fucking scared by being considerate and thoughtful and kind or that, oh, my God you're giving some kind of contract by implying sweetness and being considerate and thoughtful and simply wishing someone a happy fucking Valentine's Day who you have already fucked and are dating on the regs, then that's just not for me. Love and light and all, but not for me."

"OK," Jane said. "I understand that."

Then the Comedian called me. Six hours later. But he called me. I was at (oh, yes) Jon Friedman's "Rejection Show," so I didn't answer. Then he texted: "Hey. I hope your show went well. I wasn't trying to be an asshole. I thought when we rescheduled our date that we weren't doing Valentine's Day. If you prefer this being a friendship to a relationship I'm not going to fight you on it, but I think it's more miscommunication than something genuinely spiteful. I also would have rather said all this over the phone than over text. Happy Valentine's Day and have a good night."

I read it over. I felt he was coming from a good place.

I wrote back, "Show was great!!!" because it was. There have been times in the past when I have performed and been so painfully unfunny that I want to die forever and ever, but the show went awesomely. I think I have now been humiliated enough that I am truly DGAF on stage and can be the person that I am off-stage -- when I am on. (The whole trick to performing: To resist the urge to try.)

Then I wrote him: "Thank you for this. Of course I want to date you. I'm just done with guys who don't make an effort, you know? Sometimes it's the little things in how someone makes you feel in the way they treat you -- like if they're actually into you etc. I'm glad you are (I think, at least) and I'm excited to see you Monday. Thanks for being a good sport about my castrating bitchiness and hope on some level you get where I'm coming from. :) xxxx"

He replied like a comic, which I didn't mind. I like funny guys. Before I share his text back (which of course I have checked with him before publishing this whole goddamned thing on a goddamned blog) I'll explain a callback he did to our pre-planned date on Monday where before the whole V-Day shitshow went down, I suggested we meet at Best Buy to pick out a new TV for me, and he had hilariously agreed, "Yes, Best Buy sounds hot, we can turn it into a role-play and I'll wear a blue collared polo shirt."

So, he texts back: "I get where you're coming from. I just don't want you to deprive me of the opportunity to be an actual asshole, which I've really been looking forward to."

Funny.

Then: "And I'm also looking forward to Monday being the most epic trip to Best Buy of all time."

And then Jane made me write about this whole thing, which I agreed to with the caveat, "Sure. If he says it's OK. Don't want to sabotage my life completely. :)"

Smiley face.