I wrote a book covering two years worth of dating experiences called "Hating Dating", and gave it to all my friends. It was very funny, cause it was totally honest, and very candid. It shows my absolute worst AFC moments. People cringe when they read it, cause they see examples of when a girl is interested in me, and they watch as the relationship unfolds and i blow it. The book had the actual girls names, pictures, and also included their email and instant messenger excerpts showing i wasn't making stuff up. I wanted the book to be as accurate as possible - not my side of the story.
I totally cringe in some of the chapters, especially the chapter entitled "PERFECT GIRL" which was about the hottest chick ever who was VERY interested in me, and over the course of two weeks i blew it!
Here is an excerpt from the chapter "WICCA CHICK" who was soooo goddamn hot it wasn't funny. She also informed me she was a witch. haha.
"She’s starting to open up, and tells me about her past relationships, and how many times she’s been hurt in the past. I’m pretty amazed with guys that can have a totally hot woman and take her for granted. What the hell am I talking about? I had an amazing wife, and I took her for granted. I think its something people need to seriously work on during a relationship. I really felt bad for her, and all the pain she’s been caused at the hands of men. I’m speechless, cause I don’t know exactly what to say, but I feel like I have to say something. I try to think of something profound, to really sympathize with her:
“You have this really hard and strong exterior, and…. umm, but you don’t show many people, that umm, inside you are soft and sweet, ummm, like a buster bar at Dairy Queen.”
Oh f**k. A buster bar? ****, doesn’t a buster bar have nuts in it? I meant a dilly bar. F**k. I hope she doesn’t know the difference...
I start rambling stuff about feeling sorry that she’s been hurt so much, and to not judge all men by her experiences. F**k, I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’m just feeling that whatever I say right now has to be perfect, or else I’m screwed. She tells me “I told myself that when I met my last ex, that if it doesn’t work out, then I’m going to seriously stop dating, and take a year off and be single.”
Sure enough, he s**t on her. (Well, not literally.) So, she’s hurt, bitter, etc. Now I’m feeling really dumb, cause it seems like she is sending me the message that she doesn’t want to get into a relationship, and that I’m just considered a friend. F**k, I guess I’m too nice, and it’s not getting me anywhere."
Here's another excerpt from the chapter "BRUNETTE WITH THE AMAZING BODY" about our first date, where she had too much to drink:
"Here is where the fun begins: she starts feeling sick. She heads to the bathroom, where she stayed for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, I’m not feeling all that great either. Not really pukey, just kind of gassy. I had felt it all night, even while I was driving to her house. I remember trying to blast as many as I could in the car before I got there. But then I got paranoid she would smell it, so I drove down the highway with the windows open. I don’t know whether to rip one in her bedroom, and then have to worry about whether she will come back and smell. Her place is a studio apartment, so I don’t know exactly where to blast one. It’s all dark, and I head into her kitchen, which is only about ten feet from the bathroom. I want to rip one in there, but I also don’t want her to hear. So, here is where I great my great idea: (I’ve actually used this technique in the past, and it works marvelously… try it sometime!) I grabbed a towel in her kitchen, and pulled down my pants and underwear. I held the towel up to my ass and let ‘er rip. It acted as a pseudo-silencer, or muffler, if you will. In addition, it also works as a combination filter and airlock, consuming all noxious vapors. Problem solved. I have to hurry up, cause who wants to get caught on the first date, standing in someone’s kitchen with their underwear and pants around their ankles, stuffing a towel in their ass?
I jump back in bed, as if nothing happened. She comes out and lies on the bed. She said she threw up, but washed her mouth out and brushed her teeth about nine times. OK, let the games begin!"
So, that's what my book was about: Honesty, and showing all the weird things that people do, and don't admit to anybody.
