Usually my job consists mainly of answering the phone, scheduling appointments, keeping the store clean and tidy, helping customers that wander in, and sitting on my ass playing on the computer the rest of the time. It’s a pretty good job.
The answering the phone part is no big deal, except when the occasional pervert or extreme redneck calls. There’s one guy who had us install a television projector system at his weekend home. According to my sources, it’s used mainly for watching porn. He has four channels on his satellite service that shows nothing but porn 24/7. That has to be expensive. Anyway, he called about a month ago because the bulb went out in his projector and he needed it fixed before the upcoming weekend. Unfortunately we had to order the bulb and it was going to take longer. He called me about every other day asking if it had come in yet. Every time he called, before he’d hang up, he’d ask, “What was your name again?” I would tell him, again. Then he would say in the creepiest voice, “Hehe, I like that name.” I swear I could hear banjos in the background. It gives me the willies every time I think about it.
He called the store one day and said that he just had to have it fixed before the weekend because he was having a big “Olympics” party. I didn’t know they had a jack-off competition in the Olympics. Anyway, we got it fixed in time for his big “party.”
So far at this job I’ve had two marriage proposals and a whole slew of creepy guys come in who like to call me baby and honey. I deemed last Thursday “Preachers and Pimps” Day due to the fact that I had to deal with entirely too many of each that day. Actually it was difficult to tell which was which sometimes. It’s usually the preachers and car salesmen who I get mixed up. They share such similar personality traits.
The highlight of my week though was on Tuesday. I was behind the counter because a customer had just left. A man walked through the door. He was in his early forties, dark curly hair, bright brown eyes, and handsome. I always greet people when they come in, so I said my usual, “Hello. Can I help you find something?” He looked at me and smiled as he walked toward me. When he got up to the counter he said hello and kept smiling. I think I kind of gave him a confused look, because I was definitely a little confused, and finally he said, “Hi Ginger, it’s me, Harry.”
“Um, oh, hi Harry.” I was still confused, but eventually it hit me that he was a guy who I had talked to on Plenty of Fish. Yep, I’m back on that hell hole of a dating site. I’m not sure why, other than just because I’m bored as hell here. So once I figured out who he was and got over my state of shock we talked a bit between customers coming in. He asked if I wanted to go to lunch with him one day and I said that would be fine. Then he apologized for surprising me like he did, and he left.
It took me a while to figure out how he even knew where I worked because I didn’t remember ever telling him. I saw where I had mentioned working at the music store in town and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where that is since there’s only one in town. Well, at least he was better looking than in his picture online and he seemed nice enough.
Wednesday we went to the local sushi restaurant for lunch. I was on a tight schedule and only had an hour to talk and eat lunch, so I was trying to keep an eye on the time. We didn’t really talk about anything too deep during that hour, just chatted really. Then about five minutes before I had to leave to go back to work he looked down at the table and said, “I guess I ought to just lay it all out shouldn’t I?” I gave him an “Oh God, here it comes” look, and said “Ok” and held my breath waiting for him to tell me he was an ex-con or something.
He then went into this whole story about how he had separated from his wife earlier this year and then moved in with his girlfriend. Then his house flooded and they moved in with his wife and kids, because he had bought the house so why shouldn’t he live there…and the girlfriend left him two weeks ago and he was still getting over it all. All the while, still living with his (soon to be ex) wife and kids and remodeling his flooded house next door. Yeah, I know. It sounded like one big “OMG WTF run like hell” red flag. I tried to be nice and calm about it all though, because I know from experience that fucked up things can happen to good people, but…I’m not that naïve…anymore.
So my knee-jerk instinct was to tell him that I wasn’t looking for anything serious now and I hoped things worked out for him. Before his little admission, I would have thought him great boyfriend material (handsome, funny, smart, and successful), after it though, he became just a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe that was just the wasabi. Either way, I was no longer interested.
He has texted me randomly since our lunch date. I didn’t hear from him yesterday and thought that maybe he had forgotten about me and I wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with him. No such luck. He sent me a text today that said, “Hey…miss ginger. I just want u to know I have been thinking about u ” and then “Mostly dreaming about u.” First of all, I don’t know how to reply to something like that. If I reply “Thanks” or “That’s nice” then I end up sounding like a cold-hearted bitch. If I tell him that was sweet, then I feel like I’m leading the poor guy on. It’s a no-win situation, so I just said “hi.”
He started asking if we could see each other again and I decided I had to nip it in the bud. I told him flat-out that I didn’t want any crazy wives or ex-girlfriends coming after me, and I asked why he just didn’t try to work things out with the girlfriend. He replied, “I did.. but I’m over her now. ” Then I knew I was in trouble. The smiley-wink gave it away. He was smitten and I was fucked. So I told him again that I wasn’t looking for anything serious now and didn’t want to hang out with him and then a week later he decide that he’s getting back together with his wife or girlfriend. I was trying to run this guy off, but he wasn’t biting. His reply? “I have been thinking about u a lot. I don’t want a one nighter!” Crap.
Now for the kicker. I haven’t had sex in six months! Count them! SIX months! I’m horny as hell and am nearing my breaking point. Yet, I just don’t seem to have it in me to use this guy as my “dick in a jar” and break the glass. Why, you ask? It’s because I’m holding out for something better. It’s not that he’s not sexy, he’s just not the one that I want.
What the hell is wrong with me?! I can’t remember ever having this problem before. In the past I could always block things out of my mind and at the very least just use a guy to meet my physical needs when necessary. Shit. I think something’s broken.