Okay. I'm probably not up to 57 douchebags but it really feels like I am...
I love bowling. Love it. I'm not great at it. But I love it. So consequently, whenever a man asks me what I would like to do I say bowling. A frequent complaint I hear from men is that women take no responsibility for planning dates, that we never have any ideas. Well...I always say bowling, and they always say no. Why won't a man take me bowling?
Allow me to share a transcript of our conversation:
Douchebag: I'm excited about Friday. What do you think you want to do?
Merry Spinster: Bowling. How about Fat Cats? I can call ahead and get us a lane. First round of beers is on me.
Douchebag: Really?!?!? Bowling? I didn't think you were the kind of person who likes bowling. That's kind of. kind of-
Merry Spinster: Awesome. It is kind of awesome. I'm sure that's what you were going to say.
Douchebag: No. I was going to say dumb. Bowling is dumb. Let's do something else.
Merry Spinster: (exasperated tone) Okey dokey. What would you like to do?
Merry Spinster: Alright. John Wick Chapter 2 is opening.
Douchebag: Hmm...That's kind of mindless. You sure have common tastes. I find this surprising.
Merry Spinster: Common tastes? In the first case bowling is a sport of kings. The White House used to have a bowling alley and many privately-owned mansions still do. And secondly, John Wick is a deeply complicated film about man's inhumanity to man and the search for peace in the cacophony of violence that society directs at us 24 hours a day. It has illusions of Moby Dick and borrows directly from Being and Nothingness by Jean Paul Sartre.
Merry Spinster: Fuck no. The first movie is about a guy who shoots at least 80 people in the head to get to the one guy he wanted to kill because he stole his car and killed his dog. John Wick 2 is a sequel with likely thinner motivations. But it promises to be amazing. And I'd rather see it than cry at some grim Oscar-nominated self-flagellation. You're not going to impress me with your taste in movies. I kind of hate you right now. Let's try to have some fun and turn things around.
Because I can inexplicably make mean and bitchy endearing he didn't tell me to go fuck myself. He just changed the subject.
- We went to dinner. Fucking tapas. Why tapas?!?!?!
- We never made it to the movies because his mother, who lives with him, called and asked him to come home because she was lonely
- He tried to convince me to go hang out with his mother
- I declined
- He got drunk and texted me his dick
- I texted him one of the dicks I keep on my phone in return without comment
- I don't think we'll be going out again
- I still really want to go bowling