I Don't Want To See You Again

Dear Perv,

I gave you the benefit of the doubt and went out with you. Even when I first met you at the bar and you were drunkity-drunk-drunk-drunk and saying very sexually-oriented things. I shrugged it off as drunk - I know drunk - I have compassion for drunk.

So I agreed to go out with you. We hadn't finished one beer yet and you were begging me for a sleepover (back down, Sparky). Then you disgustingly pondered my 91-year old great-aunt's sex life (file that under NOT INTERESTING). Did you not start to notice the one-sided conversations? I'm really not that shy and coy, buddy. Then I mistakenly obliged you and peripherally entered a conversation on sexual experiences and positions. But then you had to go and take it a step further and "enlighten" me on "how 'it' should be done." Here is a tip, never criticize a girl's ex-boyfriend's bed manners.

I could not be more turned off by you at this point. And, by the way, silly boy, it takes way more than three beers and a shot of whiskey to get me "liquored up and in bed."

And so I got rid of you and sent you on your way. Then you started calling me, emailing me, and text messaging me again and again and again. And always drunk. I never called you back. But you kept calling still.

This past week, you tricked me with the "202" area code. I answered. You questioned me on why I never called you back. And I told you it was because my phone didn't work for a while and I must have missed the calls. And I've been busy. And, yes, I realize I am at fault for not being forthright. So I started to feel bad. And then...you went there again. You had to wax on about penis straws and whether or not I like to "drink from them." I suddenly realized you were no longer talking figuratively. You were doing that gross-me-out thing again.

Then this conversation happened:
You: I hate work. Someone here is making my life hell.
Me: ...
You: I am going to crack.
Me: ...
You: Do you ever feel that way?
Me: What do you mean, "crack"?
You: You know - just explode.
Me: Define. Like scream you head off and punch a pillow crack? Or walk out on your job suddenly crack? Or bring a gun to work crack?
You: The first two.
Me: Ok. I think those might qualify on the healthier side of cracking. I vote number one.
You: Actually all three, because they are all one form of cracking.
Me: ???
Me: ooookkkaaayyy...Got to go!

So you see? Now you were doing the creeping-me-out thing.

Now you tell me you are moving back to DC next month and can't wait to see me again. I wonder, how can you even think I'm fun? I'm not very nice to you. But I know what I need to do. I need to be blunt. I realize that you do not understand that I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN. I realize that you do not get that my saying "we'll see" or "I don't know" in response to seeing you again is not the same as NO. (My inability to say "no" is my problem.) So, know this, the next time you do call, I will answer, and I will tell you, "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN."

Signed, Someone Who Doesn't Want To See You Again