Passing Through: A Dating Story
This is the one about the Irish guy. (No, not that one that I actually met in Ireland... a different Irish guy... keep up).
This Irish guy I met in San Diego. I'm not talking 8th generation Irish. I mean, like, total Guiness and Blarney Stone Irish. Fresh off the plane.
He had been offered a job in San D. while he was once on vacation (likely a lie... he always seemed like he wasn't quite telling the whole truth.)
I served him and his roommate at Mimi's one day and I thought he was dreamy. (Okay, it was JUST the accent.... so sue me).
Overall, he was an A$$whole.
No.
Honest.
But of course this is back when I was young and I loved the occasional A$$whole. Keeping me guessing. A total project. I'm gonna' make this guy love me and then he'll be sweet and romantic....
PffffffT.
Right.
Well we started dating (Obviously... What can I say, I had a way of getting what I wanted... most the time....).
He really was pretty elusive, though. A workaholic. Egomaniacal. Cursed far too much. Short-tempered....
It all started to become a little less dreamy.
But our best time together in that 6 month relationship was our road trip.
He, his roommate and I drove from San Diego to New York. Oh yes. Alllllll the way.
And to this day I swear the best way to get to know someone is to take a long road trip with them. You find out REALLLLL quickly how annoying people can be.....
But in other moments all you can do is talk.
And talk we all did.
No topic of conversation was off the table.... 2 boys against 1 girl left me a bit out of touch at times.
We took turns driving as we mulled along the highways and roadways using an oft-useless map (Garmin and the TomTomwould have been useful back then...)
We ended up on back-country roads that had yet to be paved and in one instance some redneck approached our car with a shotgun.
Holy Hillbilly, Batman.
We indicated we were lost to which he mumbled something through his toothless grin. In my best transalation I gathered he said something like: "ya'll get the ruff off ma' popaty, 'for I KILLZ yoooo!"
It's possible I am exaggerating, but I'm totally telling you the troof when I says he was scurry.
We meandered back through the Valley of Death, and back onto a lonesome night highway.
We rotated CD's and, at times, they would throw me a music bone and pop in a Madonna album. They tried to pretend like they did that for my listening pleasure, but funny enough they belted out "Papa Don't Preach" and "Borderline" without missing a lyric. Hmmm.
(I told you it was a great way to get to know someone....)
And when it was my turn to pick the music, I just had to keep it real and pop in Tu-Pac's greatest (ya'll know I'm from Ontario .... right?...) and it became eveident very quickly that Pac's presence wasn't quite as electrifying in Ireland as it was in SoCal.
I was the only one that knew the lyrics to those ones.
We drove some more...
We thought we would never make it through Texas...
... We bought fireworks from some small, dodgy town where I SWEAR the "Chainsaw Massacre" installments were filmed...
...We stopped and stayed in small towns like Texarkana as we FINALLY made it toward Arkansas...
... We stopped at restaurants we had never heard of (Cracker Barrel, anyone?)
...We passed through other cities big and small and upon arriving in Tennessee I educated the dudes that this was where Justin Timberlake was from. (I literally wondered what I would do if I saw him...)..
We drove... and drove... and finally made it to New York.
The Irish guy passed through my life just as I passed through this country- many stops were lovely, but others were dreary and bumpy.
I stopped seeing him after some hippie read my cards and, basically indicated it was time to get out (don't judge me.... it was a fun experience.)
And after my card cleansing I made the decision within the week to end the relationship and move home.
Life went on and got better.
I don't think of that particular Irish guy too much. I mentioned he was an A$$whole, right? But I learned from him that you can't change a man.... ever....
No matter how awesome and kind you are they cannot be changed.
After Graham I never dated an A$$whole again.
How refreshing.
This Irish guy I met in San Diego. I'm not talking 8th generation Irish. I mean, like, total Guiness and Blarney Stone Irish. Fresh off the plane.
He had been offered a job in San D. while he was once on vacation (likely a lie... he always seemed like he wasn't quite telling the whole truth.)
I served him and his roommate at Mimi's one day and I thought he was dreamy. (Okay, it was JUST the accent.... so sue me).
Overall, he was an A$$whole.
No.
Honest.
But of course this is back when I was young and I loved the occasional A$$whole. Keeping me guessing. A total project. I'm gonna' make this guy love me and then he'll be sweet and romantic....
PffffffT.
Right.
Well we started dating (Obviously... What can I say, I had a way of getting what I wanted... most the time....).
He really was pretty elusive, though. A workaholic. Egomaniacal. Cursed far too much. Short-tempered....
It all started to become a little less dreamy.
But our best time together in that 6 month relationship was our road trip.
He, his roommate and I drove from San Diego to New York. Oh yes. Alllllll the way.
And to this day I swear the best way to get to know someone is to take a long road trip with them. You find out REALLLLL quickly how annoying people can be.....
But in other moments all you can do is talk.
And talk we all did.
No topic of conversation was off the table.... 2 boys against 1 girl left me a bit out of touch at times.
We took turns driving as we mulled along the highways and roadways using an oft-useless map (Garmin and the TomTomwould have been useful back then...)
We ended up on back-country roads that had yet to be paved and in one instance some redneck approached our car with a shotgun.
Holy Hillbilly, Batman.
We indicated we were lost to which he mumbled something through his toothless grin. In my best transalation I gathered he said something like: "ya'll get the ruff off ma' popaty, 'for I KILLZ yoooo!"
It's possible I am exaggerating, but I'm totally telling you the troof when I says he was scurry.
We meandered back through the Valley of Death, and back onto a lonesome night highway.
We rotated CD's and, at times, they would throw me a music bone and pop in a Madonna album. They tried to pretend like they did that for my listening pleasure, but funny enough they belted out "Papa Don't Preach" and "Borderline" without missing a lyric. Hmmm.
(I told you it was a great way to get to know someone....)
And when it was my turn to pick the music, I just had to keep it real and pop in Tu-Pac's greatest (ya'll know I'm from Ontario .... right?...) and it became eveident very quickly that Pac's presence wasn't quite as electrifying in Ireland as it was in SoCal.
I was the only one that knew the lyrics to those ones.
We drove some more...
We thought we would never make it through Texas...
... We bought fireworks from some small, dodgy town where I SWEAR the "Chainsaw Massacre" installments were filmed...
... We stopped at restaurants we had never heard of (Cracker Barrel, anyone?)
...We passed through other cities big and small and upon arriving in Tennessee I educated the dudes that this was where Justin Timberlake was from. (I literally wondered what I would do if I saw him...)..
We drove... and drove... and finally made it to New York.
The Irish guy passed through my life just as I passed through this country- many stops were lovely, but others were dreary and bumpy.
I stopped seeing him after some hippie read my cards and, basically indicated it was time to get out (don't judge me.... it was a fun experience.)
And after my card cleansing I made the decision within the week to end the relationship and move home.
Life went on and got better.
I don't think of that particular Irish guy too much. I mentioned he was an A$$whole, right? But I learned from him that you can't change a man.... ever....
No matter how awesome and kind you are they cannot be changed.
After Graham I never dated an A$$whole again.
How refreshing.
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