Desperate losers seeking...me, apparently

So today I’m going to give you some examples of why I’m still single. It’s because I’m so picky and I turn down too many men because of what can only be described as my “overly high standards.” It’s obvious that if I want to get married before the age of 30, I’d better rethink this whole “standards” business.

Example 1: There was a guy at my reunion last August who obviously must have graduated with me and who looked vaguely familiar, but I had no idea who he was. He however, knew exactly who I was. He came up and was like “Hey! Amber!” and I said “Hey….Joe?!” because thank god he was wearing a nametag.

So he starts in with the usual what have you been up to stuff and he starts telling me about how he has all these memories of me. Like when he was working in Deer Creek Canyon Park doing community service (did I mention he’d been not only arrested but jailed at least three times? No? Well he had been) and he saw my boyfriend and I hiking through there. Uh, ok. I sorta remember that time (though he doesn’t factor into the memory) and if it’s when I thought it was, that was about six or seven years ago. Ok then. He had also seen me a variety of other times I didn’t remember, and I’m not sure where he found the time to see me everywhere, what with the being in jail and the tattoo sleeves he was rockin’ on both arms – those things are time consuming.

So he spends the remainder of the evening trying to get my number, which amazingly, I avoided. I say amazingly because not only was he persistent, I was also really drunk. As evidenced by Karen’s husband and I getting separated from the group at some point on the way to the next bar and ending up at a color guard convention. But I digress. Because we eventually found the right bar and no one even noticed we were missing. Anyway, apparently my tattooed boyfriend was at the bar as well, and I heard that after I left, he got in a fight and as a result didn’t show up for the next evening’s festivities, which saved me some dodging. Oh and also? Dude? Um, this is a high school reunion, not actual high school and so the fighting thing? Lame.


Example 2: Last year (it was a banner year for losers) I had a guy call my cell 3 different times looking for 3 different girls (or one girl whose name he maybe couldn’t remember) who apparently work(ed) at the stock show and who apparently gave him a bogus number that turned out to be mine.

So like an hour after the 3rd call, I'm totally asleep and he calls back and says that I have a sexy voice and I sound really hot so why didn't I come party with them. Boy, am I a magnet for the quality men or what. When I declined, he informed me that he and his friends "weren't ugly" which still didn't make me want to get out of bed, for a couple of reasons a) he used the word "ain't" a lot, which I hate, b) I don't want to get out of bed -- it's 11 at night and it's cold outside and c) hello? how desperate would I be to be all "well yeah, total random and clearly not desperate and not ugly uneducated stranger, that sounds great! I'll be right over!"

So I went back to sleep and that’s when I had the best dream about how I totally went off on this one unbelievable skank that I hate and smacked her across the face and she cried. It was so cool. But that’s a whole other story.

Oh, and while writing this, I’ve been rethinking the whole “standards” thing, and my conclusion? They’re staying right where they are. I might even raise them, just for fun. Because I’m extreme like that – I live my life on the edge and that’s just how I roll.