THE (NEWLY) SKINNY: BATAAN DEATH DATING

CAMERON FRYE IS A BOSTON-BASED FEMALE BLOGGER WHO JUST LOST A LOT OF WEIGHT AND IS DATING AGAIN. THESE ARE THE BAD THINGS THAT HAPPEN TO HER.

I naively thought when I lost weight, the selection of men would get better. Needless to say, I was wrong. The attention I’m getting from the opposite sex has been nice and greatly appreciated, but the search for a decent guy continues and my whore-like tendencies (which I was hoping I could forget about) live on.

I’ll answer the question I get asked all the time – ‘What are you looking for?’. Tall (I’m 5’9″ supposedly), funny – sense of humor is HUGE (is Louis C.K. available?), a guy with a backbone who will put up with my shit and give it right back to me (a Schroeder to my Lucy), must be smart (I’m by no means a genius – but I recently had a guy try talk to me about ‘Higgs Boston’ … not Higgs Boson, Higgs BOSTON. He also told me he reads the New York Times everyday – because he has a ‘prescription’.) and whoever I’m with needs to understand this is all new to me – so be gentle?

I fully admit – I own what I am. But I’ve been trying to be different and not fall back on bad habits since re-entering the dating world and it’s been tough. But it’s been a nice change. I don’t have that feeling that the guy I’m with is embarrassed to be seen with me anymore (although, I’m sure he is) and they seem to be genuinely interested in me (or I could be completely wrong). I don’t know.

But bad habits are hard to break and when you’re on a horribly, painful date – shit happens. We’re not proud of it, but it does.

Shall I explain?

So I was set up by someone (who I’m seriously considering cutting off all ties with) and for some insane reason, she thought I’d have a lot in common with a guy who told me he wants a big family and is looking to settle down in the next couple of years. He told me this within the first 20 mins of me sitting down. I don’t know if it was a test or if he and my friend have a sense of humor–but I knew I was in for a long night.

Besides the whole creepy kids and marriage thing, he was good-looking and seemed like a good guy. But he was a talker and asked way too many questions. I’m a talker – but I know when to shut up and give the other person an opportunity to speak. After the first hour and in a pause in the conversation (he decided to chew the bus boy’s ear off about sauce),

I turned my head to the couple sitting next to us and just mouthed ‘Kill Me’. While they erupted with laughter, I went back to the Bataan Death March of conversations.

By the second hour I was searching for escape routes and thought about overeating. If I did that, I’d make myself vomit … all over him and all over the table. But because I would like to come back to the restaurant at some point, I didn’t want to ruin my outfit and I didn’t feel like ending up as the latest YouTube sensation – I decided against that. So I sat there and pretended to care about the bullshit he was babbling on about for another 30 mins.

Now you’re probably wondering, “Hey Cameron – you’re kind of an asshole. Why not just say ‘Shut the fuck up!’ and run off like a child of the night and dance for cake?” Well, A) I’m an asshole, but doing that would be mean and I don’t like to hurt people’s feelings (contrary to popular belief) and B) It’s not like cake gets you far in life. All cake got me was a Lane Bryant frequent shopper card. So that wasn’t an option.

So I did what any red-blooded American female would do. I slept with him.

Yeah, I made lemonade out of the ten gallon barrel of lemons I was given. I know I shouldn’t have done that and there are probably more mature ways to handle this situation – but where’s the fun in that? Besides, the kid (me) has needs and it’s not exactly like I’m beating them off with a stick right now. So I’m going to take what I can get. Plus, it was the only way I could think of shutting him up for more than 30 seconds.

As painful and mind numbing as the date was, I enjoyed the after party. But there is no way in hell I’m giving his ass a second chance – even though he asked if I wanted to go out again this weekend. Hopefully he considers the sex a consolation prize and moves onto some other creature who wants to give up on life and pump babies out of her vagina like they’re going out of style.

But then again – are haggard, stretched out vaginas ever in style?