Every so often, things in my life work out swimmingly and I come across lovely people who I probably don’t deserve to meet. Sometimes these lovely people are those who have created iconic Marvel characters and have attempted to start a conversation with me because I’m the idiot at the SDCC party wearing a life-size Michael Cera cutout around my neck like Flava Flav. Sometimes these lovely people are just those who are nice and sweet and basically the complete opposite of me. Today’s episode of “Story Time with Bitchface McGee” is about the latter.
A few years ago, I met the sweetest guy on the planet. His name was not Bradley Cooper, and for that reason, he’ll now be referred to as Not BCoopz. I don’t know what possessed Not BCoopz to want to talk to me (maybe alcohol? depression?), but he did, and we really got to know each other. He thought I was the nicest person in the world. I didn’t correct him by telling him I’m actually one of the meanest people in the world and that I’m definitely going to hell for all the times I’ve wished almost-terrible things upon people I don’t like. He thought I was a hard-working student who needed to take a break once in a while. I didn’t tell him I religiously fell asleep in the back of Drew Casper’s Scorsese class. Great communication going on. So great, in fact, that we made plans to get together for a day.
This may come as a surprise, but I haven’t had a lot of success with that dumb ol’ thing people call “romance,” other than the warm feeling I get while marathoning Supernatural and Parks and Rec on Netflix. So, obviously I wasn’t sure if this was considered a date or not. I combed my hair, put on pants, and tried to look as presentable as possible, just in case it was.
We got food, explored the town, and just had lively conversations. It was… pleasant. (And I don’t have that opinion about many things.) By the near-end, things were going great– I didn’t fall, get into a bar fight, or even have an asthma attack. The one snag I hit was when the parking attendant told me I had to back my car up into its spot, but even that was quickly solved when Not BCoopz did it for me amazingly well. By this time, I was certain this was a date, and I don’t know about y’all, but when someone likes you, it can make you feel pretty cool– even though you know you’re just going to go home at the end of the night and eat peanut butter out of a jar alone in your room.
So, of course I had to go and ruin it. A mutual friend came across us and enthusiastically asked if we were out on a date. In a Classic Annie move, I panicked and thoughts ran through my head. Was it a date? You were sure like, twelve seconds ago, idiot. But what if it’s not? But what if it is? He would’ve said so, right? I DON’T KNOW. Just wait til the guy responds. He’ll definitely say if it is or not. Just wait– “Ew, no!” Okay.
“Ew, no!”? Seriously? I knew I wanted to take it back as soon as it slipped off my tongue. I could’ve just looked at Not BCoopz and laughed, then said “just kidding!” I could’ve even just asked him myself if it was. But noooooooo, I had to do the most logical thing I could think of: run. Well, more like speed-walk. But I walked out of that bitch so fast that I didn’t know what was happening until I was 20 feet from the scene of the crime. At that point, I had to make a decision: be an asshole and ditch my maybe-but-probably-not-anymore-date, or go back and apologize for being weird.
I eventually went back, but I didn’t apologize because I was freakin’ embarrassed. To my relief, things just picked up where they left off, and the mishap was never mentioned again (I told you he was the nicest person ever). I’m not sure if it was out of pity or because he wanted another story to tell his friends, but Not BCoopz wanted to “hang out” again soon. And it did happen. And yes, that one was for sure a date.