Just Beat It

What started as a seemingly normal Thursday ended with a trainwreck Internet chat with Electric Youth. Not only is he a talker, but this guy is seriously mental. And totally fine with the fact that since our date, I haven't replied to any of his texts, which all include the same photo of him at the firing range, and lines such as, "we will shoot."

No, WE won't shoot anything anywhere at any time. Anyway, I'm on Gmail when a window pops up from Mr. Personality. Crap, I forgot he had my Gmail address.

Just as I'm about to say "TTYN," he says he has a question for me. He starts rambling about how he just turned 31 and therefore is all about efficiency. He finally says, "I really enjoyed meeting you, I'd really like to see you again, but if you don't feel the same that's totally cool."

Maybe he should shelve the efficiency thing and work on not asking girls out on Gchat. I realize everyone has a different approach to courtship, like the city bus driver who was on my route to work used to honk and wave at me in the morning when I was waiting at my stop. Everyone at the stop would give me the side eye as my salt-and-pepper-haired boyfriend wearing fingerless leather gloves cruised by in his giant bus. Try as I might to avoid eye contact when I'd get on the bus, he never missed a chance to wink. I finally decided to re-route my commute when I got on the bus one Friday morning with a suitcase, and that following Monday he asked how my trip was.

So I tell Electric Youth I enjoyed meeting him as well, but I see us just being friends. And even though we're not in person, I'm down to my last ounce of comfort. He takes care of that by saying he's been feeling fat, and asks if I think he looked fat on our date. To be honest, he was lean, except he had a belly. A reallll gut. And there was no hiding it in that fitted olive long-sleeve waffle-knit shirt with some dragon/snake abomination printed over the shoulder.

But I lied and said he didn't look fat, but if he felt that way, he should go for a jog and drink lots of water. He tells me he drinks water like traders snort coke. Alright then.

The cherry on this Gchat sundae, he tells me he wants to get my brother a job at his company (they're in the same line of work), because of the "bounty" he'd get, which is $5,000 after 6 months. Seriously? This isn't some bad movie where the villain uses everyone as pawns to strike it rich.

I block him on Gmail and pray Lord Farquaad is out of my life.