wedding road trip

R.I.P. Single Days

The road to marriage has included a few side trips trip down Single Days memory lane. Over the past month, Chris and I have been recapping some of our favorite stories of our days in the trenches. I love that it doesn’t bother either of us when the other shares stories about people we’ve been with in the past. That being said, I’ve asked Chris to keep the Swedish supermodel stories to himself. A girl’s gotta maintain her self-esteem.

I was digging through my email archives recently in an effort to clean out my hard drive when I stumbled upon an IM conversation with my old college neighbor. During my senior year of college, I lived in a 90210-like environment, complete with a manager named Bunny who used to do coke (the drug, not the drink) on the air vent outside of my apartment.

Anyhow, neighbor (we’ll call him Ryan) and I had been innocuously flirting for a week when we finally found each other online one afternoon. We were both on our university’s beta chat platform and were excited to try it out. I love instant messaging almost as much as I love texting. Both afford people the perfect forum to screw up their lives in the short amount of time it takes to type and hit return.

Ryan: I was really drunk on Friday. I say things I probably shouldn’t when I’m drunk. (This is always a bad way to start a conversation with someone of the opposite sex because it screams, “I am about to take back everything I said that may have remotely made you think I was interested in you.”)

Me: Friday? I don’t think I saw you on Friday. (Of course, this is a great counter. It basically says to the guy…”hey, you’ve already been forgotten!”)

Ryan: Didn’t we meet up at E Street on Friday?

Me: Oh yes, you’re right. So what would you have said on Friday had I remembered hanging out with you?

Ryan: I guess you are going to have to get me drunk sometime and find out. (Translation: “I am emotionally stunted and can’t form honest and complete sentences while sober.”)

Me: That’s retarded. (Very P.C., Jaime, using the word  “retarded.” Nice. I wasn’t too smart during my college years.)

Ryan: You’re retarded. (Hooray! We’ve graduated to the second grade.)

Me: So, what are you trying to say?

Ryan: So, I think you’re cool and you write and you’re funny. (Let’s all be glad that HE isn’t a writer.)

Me: So, you want to date me? Ha. (I don’t know what I was thinking at the time but as I re-read this I think… what a cocky b#@#$!)

Ryan: Cripes, moving pretty fast over there. (Why use “cripes” when you can use “blimey” or “egads”?!?)

Ryan: And “date” in the above sentence meant go out to dinner, hang out, and maybe make out a little, not have a serious or something serious-like. (Translation: “I really want to take you out to dinner and then make out with you without having to think about the consequences. Sound like fun?”)

Me: I feel like we’re playing poker right now. (And you’re the one that’s losing, girlfriend.)

Ryan: So, insight on me… if I say “maybe I want to go running on Saturday” that means I’m going for a six-mile run.” (Right. Now THAT makes sense)

Me: Well, perhaps we should have casual dinner.

Ryan: Sounds good. I’d say “it’s a date” but that’s a poor choice of words.

Wow… with exciting guys like that in my past, it’s such a shame I ended up with boring old Chris.