Just F***ed Up

I’d have to say that the best thing anyone has ever said to me was on the subject of my taste in men. “You’re standards aren’t too high,” my friend said. “They’re just fucked up.” And boy was he right. I’ll be walking down the street or in the grocery store and see someone who catches my eye, and I’ll say to myself, “Ooh he’s cute.” And then I respond to myself, “You just like him because he’s dirty.” And I don’t mean raunchy dirty, I mean greasy dirty.

For some ungodly reason if I see someone who looks like a strung-out crack addict or like they haven’t bathed in a week- be still my heart. I once dated a guy, who, when I first saw him, I literally thought he was homeless (had a lot to do with the garbage bag he was dragging around with him). Here are some of the crushes I’ve had in the past: “Greasy Lighting Guy,” “Hot Maintenance Guy,” “Cute Cater Waiter 1,” “Cute Cater Waiter 2,” “Built Construction Worker…” the list goes on and on (and on).

You can probably tell that the relationship I like to have with men is a distant one. I don’t want to know you, I don’t want to like you, I don’t want to spend time with you. What I want to do with you involves one night, a lot of alcohol and some endurance. That’s it. But really when you think about it, isn’t that the same thing the men are thinking? You’d hope so, but no. They want to “date,” they want to “spend time with me,” they think I’m “wonderful.” Why do I sleep with such girly men? Get the job done and go home!

But I come to wonder, since the light in my closet has been broken for six months (As a fall-out of the Maintenance Guy affair, I can no longer call Maintenance. He got too attached.), perhaps I should begin to consider the consequences of my actions.

I suppose I shouldn’t use people. Fine, I know I shouldn’t use people. Damn, I’ll have to stop using people. Double damn, that means I can’t use men for sex. How the hell am I supposed to get any sex around here? (Head scratching.) Maybe I can use men for money? Oh wait, that’s wrong. Hmmm. Aw shit… is this going to involve opening up emotionally? Damn it!

Well, this will be an interesting experiment. Can a high-strung, misanthropic loner have a relationship involving (duh duh daahhh) feelings? Place your bets now, ladies and gentlemen. I am already balking at the idea, but I do love a good experiment. I think I’m like one of those kids that only likes to eat chicken nuggets and who is convinced that everything else tastes like crap. I suppose I should be more open. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet some really skeezy looking drug dealer taking a leak on the bus and we’ll fall madly in love with each other.