Jackass Moments

Nothing is worse than a date that goes down the drain after you’ve spent a good amount of time planning it and setting it up. Nothing so painful as agonizingly planning how an evening will go and then having it fall flat on its face.

Ok, fine, there are worse things in life, but you gotta admit, it does suck like the bubonic plague. Ok, fine, I exaggerate once more. Let’s just agree that it sucks and never talk about it again. Ah, but where’s the fun in that?

Anyway, just in case you’re not up to date on the recent misery that is my life, let’s make it a matter of public record that I am hopelessly and desperately in love with a lesbian. Yes. How joyous. Well now that we have that out of the way, let’s move on with the flash back.

Not having realized that my fair lady is in fact of the third gender, I confidently asked her out on a date. To my surprise, she agreed. Keep in mind that during this time however, I only had unconfirmed reports of her, ahem, gender preference. Being the egoistical S.O.B. that I am, I then felt it my duty to grab this opportunity and ask her out. Her agreement only served to increase my doubts as to her being a lesbian. I mean why agree on a date, right? What more, it felt even better that she did agree to go out on a date because that only pointed towards her also being single.

Looking good for team Fyodor right now isn’t it? I thought so too.

Assessing the situation pointed me towards two very favorable conclusions. One, it was highly possible that she’s not a lesbian or at best, she’s at least bisexual (yeah, I’m not picky, shut up). Second, it was the fact that she was single or, if otherwise in a relationship, obviously willing to “breach the contract” because she bothered to agree to go out on a date. At this point my brain was screaming “all systems” go, and why shouldn’t it right?

In my mind, I was thinking that for once He (yes, I mean God.) wasn’t being such a jackass and making this harder than it otherwise should be. Also, as a side note: I would advice you not to call God a jackass because he tends to want to make an example of you. All for fun of course but an example nonetheless.

By now I suppose you know where this is all going right? Yes, it’s going towards the inevitable ruin that all my chances for a relationship goes to. What happened was that after having made reservations to a Five-star Spanish Resto, setting a time to pick her up and basically setting the entire night in stone… she cancels.

About six hours before I was to pick her up, my mobile phone buzzed its innocuous little tone and displayed a text message that read:

“Hey there Fryodor, will [name of common friend] and [name of common friend] be joining us for dinner?” oh, shit. This. Is. Not. Good.

When your date starts asking whether a common friend is joining you for your dinner together, you know damn well you’re about to get screwed. So what do you reply? Well the truth of course. I text messaged her in reply:

“Not really…”

Yes, I made sure that I used the ellipses just so I can convey my undying hope that she won’t cancel. My undying hope that perhaps, she was just making sure that it really was a date. That I did ask her out. That hope died by the way.

It took a while for her to reply. Her reply however was definite:

“Oh no, I’m sorry Fyodor but I don’t think I can go to dinner with you tonight… My partner doesn’t feel comfortable about it.”

Cue the thunder and lighting bolts over the darkening horizon. Also, cue the scene where I stop my car in the middle of the freeway, get off, point angrily towards the heavens and scream “BLOODY HELL, YOU JACKASS!!!”… I really ddin’t do that by the way. I really, really wanted to, if that’s any consolation.

It was utterly devestating. Not so much devestating because she cancled last minute but because here is a woman who is every bit as wonderful as I could ever hope to meet. A woman so fiercely intelligent that you could spend hours on end just picking each other’s brains. A woman so beautiful, with a smile so perfect that men of old wouold go to war for a glimpse of her radiance. A woman so seemingly perfect for me that you would think the stars aligned when we met. A woman who unfortunately prefered another woman.

In the end what else could I do? I gave it the normal mourning time of not replying immediately and waiting until I made it back home before I replied in text message:

“That’s ok, I understand. Maybe next time…”

And so ends project donnervogel. So ends the hope of ending the 8 month long relationship drought that has plauged my life… yeah right!

You see, part of the things that make me who I am is that I am uinflinchingly and ridiculously persistent. I never give up and I never surrender. At least not immediately. Therefore I refuse to end Project Donnervogel like this. The story will continue, lesbian or no lesbian!

It’ll just be a very, very uphill battle.