The Neighb

I always say that my life experiences, if compiled, would make a great book-turned-movie… 

Some background: I have this neighbor. We ended up meeting and introducing ourselves because I thought he was abusing someone in his apartment, so I told my landlord. Turns out it wasn’t him, and we became friends…or sort of.

Our friendship started with text messages. Pretty typical–we both work full-time, and I’m never home, so it’s really all there was. Several days after we started texting each other, I proposed we get drinks sometime. He agreed.

Naturally, I felt it was best to follow-up for drinks, so several days later I asked if he’d be up for a drink after work. Kicker: he couldn’t… his girlfriend was coming over.

I thought it was a little strange that someone with a girlfriend waited so long to tell me, but I shrugged it off and went on with my life.

Here’s where it gets juicy: Last Wednesday (about a month later) he sent me a message– he and his girlfriend broke up, so we were on for drinks! I thought it was a little weird, but with lots of encouragement from friends, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to give him a fair chance in person…. (Clearly my friends hate me and my decision-making skills are severely lacking.)

Fast forward to Saturday… he somehow manages to tell me he’s super attracted to me, has been since he met me, and wants to take me out. I’m skeptical at this point, and assure him all he is looking for is a rebound. Before I know it, he’s on his way home and wants to see me tonight. I’m crazy, so I agree to it.

He had been drinking, and asked me three times how old I was. Finally after an hour of uncomfortably answering the same questions several times, I told him I needed to head to bed. He stood up and hovered. I assumed he would probably just stand there until the world ended, he passed out, or I hugged him, so I took one for the team and hugged him with the old one-arm-we’re-just-friends-and-you-won’t-let-me-go embrace. And then, to cap it all off, as if my hug wasn’t enough, he asked me for a kiss. (My theory is if you have to ask, it isn’t happenin’, pal.) My only wish at that moment was to see the look on my face.

Here’s where I start laughing:  Sunday rolled around, and I wasn’t sure if he would even remember our conversation. Unfortunately, he did, and assured me he still wanted to take me out. I am…or was… a believer in second chances, so I told him that sounded nice.

Last night, a mere 24 hours later, I asked him if he was interested in getting a quick drink. (Why I’m still trying to be this guy’s friend, I don’t know.) Of course he wasn’t. He followed my drink offer with a text, “Random question. Do you believe in second chances? My ex is coming over tomorrow so we can talk about things.”

My response… “Honestly, after everything you’ve told me, I cannot  believe you just asked me that.” He then tried to play it off as if I was the one that started it all. He was appreciative I was so interested in him, but he needed to “work on himself” and still hoped we could be friends.

PSH. Girl, puh-lease.

Friends don’t turn friends down for drinks.


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