Dont Mince Words

In order to cope at work, a friend has decided to channel her strong inner black woman. I now jokingly call her “Nay Nay” which is short for Shanaynay, a character created by Martin Lawrence. Today, after receiving two loser reconnects in one day, I decided I needed to go black too.

Joker #1 called to see if I was available to go out “soon.” Of course, it took me a while to place the voice. Ironically, I had deleted him from my phone last week because I thought it was safe to write him off. No, more than six months after meeting and one call after that, he was calling to ask me out.

“Seriously? I met you six months ago and gave you my card and NOW you are ready to ask me out? Are you joking?” I asked.

He stuttered and realized my offer expired and quickly got off the phone.

Joker #2 left me an offline instant message. We had one date more than two years ago. He drank too many margaritas and wasn’t able to drive, so he spent the night on my couch barfing into my trash can. Needless to say, I didn’t see him again. But tonight he decided to leave me a message letting me know that he was thinking of me and he’d like to see me again.

It wasn’t hard to find my strong inner black woman to respond to this message.

“Seriously? You are contacting me two years post-puke? Really?”

Is it time to adopt a second dog? I’m not sure if I can survive any more LA-induced Post Traumatic Dating Disorders.

I left my canine boyfriend, Tex, tonight and ventured out into the nightlife of Los Angeles. My girlfriend taunted me with LA Filmfest free drinks.

I found her at the bar amongst a gaggle of young filmmakers and other desperate creatives looking for film funding or peer validation. When I walked up, she was talking to a good looking guy in a wheelchair. She hugged me and he burst out a statement without introduction.

“Goddamn, you are built like a brick shit house,” he said to me.

I replied with, “Hi, I’m Marna. You obviously aren’t from LA.”

Alex turned out to be a drunk, one-legged vet from Chicago. I told him he made my night and I was going to blog him. “Really, nobody tells you how hot you are?”

No, not so bluntly. That was perfect.

Is it a coincidence that the day I cancel my MySpace membership and open a Facebook account, we have a 5.4 earthquake? Thanks Rupert, it was a fun ride.