16 July 2008

9 the soup

i don't have the most extensive dating history. that happens when you pick highly inappropriate people and stay with them for inexplicably long periods of time.

so there's been the gay boyfriend, the angry mexican, the shit and the douche. and in between the gay boyfriend and the angry mexican, there was the soup. who we never really counted because he was a bit of a blip. he happened during The Poems and i've long been of the belief that nothing counted during The Poems.

in the schematic of my dating history, the soup was kind of an anomaly. the only one i ever regularly encountered after breaking up. the only blonde. the only one who cared about things like race cars and guns.

our first date was coyote ugly.

in his innocence, the soup misinterpreted the subtext of my initial offer to go dutch (the subtext being i just accidentally dyed my hair purple with bargain bin colorant and know i turn men gay and thus i want to pretend this movie about hot, midriff-baring women adrift at a bar in the big city is not a real date because i secretly believe you are overcompensating because deep down you know you are gay and i am repulsive so please let me pay for my own ticket) as some bold condemnation of the patriarchal capitalistic amerian dating system.

i dumped him about three weeks into whatever it was we were doing, largely because when we went to a chinese restaurant, the waiter had to guilt him into paying for my $1.25 bowl of soup. i was happy to pay. hell, i was already digging in my purse for the change. but suddenly, like the waiter, i realized i probably deserved more. at the very least, i was worth 5 quarters.

we went back to his dorm and, as we watched a marx brothers movie and he coyly tickled my toes, i tried to summon the courage to devise the words and say them. 45 minutes in, i landed, unimaginatively, on we need to talk.

the better part of the next three years were spent avoiding him.

it was only as i was getting ready to graduate and move to chicago that we sat at the bar one night. with the angry mexican glaring at us from the sidelines and the shit trying to catch my eye, we sat and talked.

the soup was in town this week. we did dinner and walked about my city. it's been five years and we're still pretty much the same except i talk more because i don't give a damn.

i've always been of the belief that you have to be friends with everyone you've ever dated. two people have proven me horribly wrong. but, in the long run, i think there's something to be said about seeing someone years down the road and sharing a sandwich and some stories. it's comforting. to know they're still out there. and that you didn't turn them gay.

9 comments:

Les Savy Ferd said...

what a storied past. a rogues gallery if you will. interesting names as well.

unfortunately i do not have a similar story to share. Just bug-girl and Croftie and I'm not sure the former even counts, though i suppose if you count the Soup then bug-girl is in.

and don't even get Croftie started on this. she has a preternatural hatred for the girl i almost sort of kinda never dated.

oline said...

i can't imagine how a lowly bug-girl could be threatening to someone who dated nipple ring boy.

Meggie said...

Umm... You dated a guy who tickled your toes? Seriously? And wouldn't pay for $1.25 soup? Caro, we need to discuss your standards.

oline said...

be nice. i had purple hair. my standards were bound to be challenged.

Dananator said...

where were you when you were with the soup, the angry mexican, and the shit at the same time? it sounds like some sort of scary ex-boyfriend vortex.

i'm impressed. had i found myself in a similar situation, i would have dove for cover.

oline said...

the scary boyfriend vortex. ie. mississippi.

Les Savy Ferd said...

anything with a name that has that many double consonants has to be a vortex of something.

taramoon333 said...

I have had similar experiences with ex's and firmly agree. Especially when you can confirm that they have not gone gay.

Meggie said...

I wouldn't necessarily agree that you turned the one gay. I blame that on Andrea. Sorry, that was mean.

As for purple hair... No excuse!! Remember that I had purple hair and crayola red hair. Thank God, not at the same time!