Come Back Charlies (Part II)

Continued from Come Back Charlies (Part I)

So there I was on my last days of Christmas vacay.  Things with TheNickName were over.  He had said so pretty clearly.  "something is missing" and all that jazz.  And I can't lie.  I was feeling a bit slumpy.  Ready to take a break from dating.  But not wanting to look like be a hysterical chick.  I didn't take my POF profile down right away.  The messages kept coming in.  But there was no one I'd even consider.  And then there it was.  A message from a familiar face.  Well.  Familiar picture.  Because.  After all.  I'd never seen his real life face.  He's an Oxy(Moron) [It was] The Indecisive Lawyer.  Was he fucking serious?

Remember me? he says. And then something about how good I looked and how are things.  And that he really wants to meet me still.

I did nothing.  Okay well not nothing.  I tweeted about it.  I called TheHel and told her the hilarity.  Which was hilarious in it's own right because I said GUESS WHO just messaged me.  And she said TheNickName?  No, I said.  Intelligence Officer?  Gotta love her.  A real friend knows who really has an affect on you.  Of course there's no lingering feelings for Garbage Man, or Twitter Guy, or Trucker Joe or ThePhD.  But the boy who made me laugh, laid it down oh so good and then managed to leave things on a good note.  Yeah.  He might have left me with a bit of a crush.  (Don't worry I know it's just lusty).  But I digress.  Back on point here.  So I told her who messaged me.  We had a chuckle.  And though I was just telling her because of the ridiculousness of it all.  She jumped right into Are you going to?  

Uh...wait...what?....not a fucking chance! I say.  But here's the thing.  He was the PERFECT booty call situation.  Home during Summer and Christmas breaks (aka when I'm not busy with school).  He was hot.  And if I believed him.  He was smart enough to be in Law school.  Top fucking Notch.  But.  And this is a big but.  I'm not fucking retarded.  And to be clear.  I was not expecting this dude to give some huge heartfelt apology about why exactly he'd been such a pans before and acted like such a douche.  And yes.  Sadly.  With my soft heart.  An apology (heartfelt and authentic) might have made a difference.  But I knew it wouldn't come.  And how could one really even expect it.  We don't even know each other!  Just Sayin'.  So  in the end.  I just did nothing.

But then.  Another message came.

Let's chat again. You're looking damn sexy. MSN?

Retard, please!  And so again.  I did nothing except hit delete.  But I guess you can blame POF for a system that now shows the other person is online (and yet has recently changed so that unless you pay you can't see if they deleted your message...which would have been a clear indicator to him...I'm assuming).

I would like to make up for that lost opportunity still. Let's meet. We'll both be completely satisfied. I'm sure of that.

Ugh.  Gross.  Now you're just being creepy.  It was almost a weak ass apology and then it went straight into what I like to call...if you have to say it, you aren't it.  The balls on these boys (and not the awesome kind, the delusional kind).  Claiming I'd be completely satisfied somehow I fucking doubt it you moron.

And that's when I caved.  Wait!  Don't start freaking out.  I don't mean caved in that I was even the slightest bit tempted.  But caved in the sense that one of my fatal flaws is engaging when I shouldn't.  Because I naively expect the possibility that I could hear a good (good as in satisfactory, not good as in forgivable) reason for certain behaviors and through that I'll learn more about retards boys.  And so I messasged back.  Doh!

What's changed?  That's it.  Short and sweet.

I suppose what's changed is that I'm realizing how much fun we would have together and I don't want to waste that opportunity. Where abouts are you living now?

Yeah.  No shit, son!  I'm fucking amazing.  But that's not really a good excuse because technically he likely thought the same thing in the summer.  And yet squandered his chance(s) then.  Nothing has changed.  Oh wait.  I have.  He's still retarded.  I'm not.  Progress.  And just to be a dick.  I don't respond any further.  I mean after all.  He doesn't deserve it.  His behavior certainly doesn't warrant it.  And honestly...nobody likes Bitter Betty but EVERYBODY loves NonChalant Nancy and can't fucking stand it when she can't be bothered to respond to you.  Just Sayin'.  His messages however, continued for a couple more days.

I promise I won't back out this time. I'd REALLY like to meet you. What do you think?

And then.... 


How's your night coming along? What are you up to? Let's chat.

And then a couple days later he deleted his account.  Who's hysterical now, bitch!  Okay that was petty.  Whatever.  Don't care.  I win!!!  Okay sure it's kind of like winning a free corn dog not the Dream House at the PNE but still.  I win!  NonChalant Nancy.  Whaaaaaaaat! (one day if you meet me you'll know what that sounds like and the hand gestures it comes with ;)

But don't think he was it.  The end of this.  No of course not.  One guy returning doesn't warrant a blog post(s) of this magnitude.  Of this awesome Titlemonium.  No way.  He was JUST the fucking beginning.  It's Come Back Charlies.  Plural.  Numerous.  Enough to form a pattern.  Enough to warrant this discussion.

To Be Continued...