Oh, (the) humanity

typed for your pleasure on 26 August 2005, at 12.00 pm

Sdtrk: ‘At night’ by the Cure

This morning, I was awakened by my bloody phone ringing at sometime after 8.30am. I lurched out of bed, saw it was a number that I didn’t recognise, and switched the ringer off. Roughly three minutes later, I hear the beep that indicates that someone’s left a message, and I’m thinking, ‘who in fuck’s left me a three minute message??’ So I got out of bed again in order to check who it was, and it turned out to be D_____, a lass that was the receptionist at my last job who I was half-heartedly attempting to chat up. She was going on at length about how she’s just moved her computer into her new place with her current boyfriend, and they got into it this morning, as he had checked her AOL Inbox, and discovered, to his chagrin, several names of males that were not his own. Yeah, he’s one of those lovely, aggressively insecure types of blokes — he’s a cop, which pretty much says it all right there. D_____ had left a message wanting to know how exactly she could make sure she got rid of, or at least hide, any and all Emails from her other guy friends that she’d received, as well as pictures; as one time, I had gotten round to her old place and taken photos of her feet — yes, I’m a foot fetishist, we’ve covered this — and Emailed them back to her. He had asked who took them, and D_____ panicked and said some coworker had taken them, and when I rung her back at work, she said that he was probably going through her AOL account as we spoke. In short, the Gestapo was paying her a visit, and she wanted to know how best to effectively hide the Jews in her cupboards. I honestly don’t know how that analogy came about, but it’s making me giggle.

Basically, I’m sat here shaking my head. Why is it that people get into relationships, and knowingly stay in them, with fuckwits? I’m telling her, ‘well, D_____, if he won’t let you send and receive Emails from any one of your male friends, or he won’t let you give out your cellphone number to any one of your male friends, or if he won’t let you hang out with your male friends — in many cases, blokes you’ve known before you even met your prick of a boyfriend — then maaaybe that’s not the sort of relationship you want to be in?’ She’s saying that the arguments with him are stressing her out, which was audibly apparent in speaking with her the last couple of times after I was fired. I suggested that I take her out to dinner for a stress-free evening, but she claimed it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get away for any length of time, as she heads straight from work to pick her boyfriend’s son up from school, whereupon she heads back to her place and spends the rest of the eve with her prick of a boyfriend. D_____ apparently can’t leave her relationship, cos from what I see, she’s like thousands upon thousands of people who have a driving need to be with someone — anyone — even if that person has a couple of faults, such as being a suspicious little shit.

Now, I speak with some experience, as to some extent, that’s the way things were with my and my former housemate, the Slag. I was going to my job, being depressed there, coming home, having to drive her silly arse out to her stripper job or whatever cos she couldn’t drive, then hours later, having to get out of bed and leave a sound sleep behind in order to pick her up from said job, and then she would invariably chew me out because of something I did or didn’t do, either in real life, or solely in her deranged hallucinatory mind. I’m a person who believes that a home should not be a stressful place; it should be someplace where you can get away from virtually everything. After speaking to all manner of cunts from various states on the phone for seven hours, home should be a place where I really shouldn’t have to speak to anyone, if I choose not to. So one day, after of culmination of events that I’ll have to explain at a later date (that’s for the rest of the ‘I am not making this up‘ series, which I swear I’ll finish one day), I simply packed up my belongings and left. Good job on that as well, as it’s done loads for my sanity and well-being.
That caustic series of months where I lived with that so-called person pretty much solidified the fact that I can’t live with anyone. If they’re a friend before I lived with them, they turn into something entirely and negatively Other. Living by oneself, as I’ve said before, allows a person to actually develop their interests in their own time. It permits them to relax, and not be ‘on’ all the time. Most importantly, it allows them to see and do what they want, with whom they want, without having to field awkward and unnecessary questions from their roommate or partner. That’s one of the many reasons that I enjoy the company of my RealDoll Sidore. Rampant iDollatry aside, a Doll doesn’t care if you’ve had partners in the past, a Doll doesn’t care if you come home four hours later than you said you would, etc etc. It’s my goal to eliminate as much stress from my life as I possibly can, and being in the sort of relationship I’m currently in works toward that goal.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m writing this in the spirit of ‘ha ha, I’m better off than you are’, cos I’m not. I just completely and utterly fail to understand why people will put up with that sort of behaviour. It could be argued that there are a few advantages being in one-half of a relationship — doubled income; constant, relentless, non-stop companionship — but if you have to compromise your personal freedoms, then none of it’s worth it. Society dictates that to be ‘successful’ and ‘happy’, you should be in a traditional relationship, but the way I see it, just because society says it’s a good idea, then it most likely isn’t

Random similar posts, for more timewasting:

Do not disappoint us, Zack Snyder on March 5th, 2009

Yet another death-knell for Mistress English on June 6th, 2007

10 have spoken to “Oh, (the) humanity”

  1. SafeTinspector writes:

    I have little to no sympathy for women in relationships like that.

  2. Davecat writes:

    In that respect, you’re a better man than I am. 🙂

  3. SafeTinspector writes:

    I don’t know, there’s something to be said for empathy. But after the fiftieth or so time telling some damn self-destructive bitch that she should probably reconsider her attachment to the neanderthal that has her in thrall, only to be told, “You don’t understand. He cares about me!”
    Or
    “I can change him, I know it”
    Or
    “But I love him”
    I lost all ability to give a flying crap. You want to be a human door-mat, who am I to judge. Just don’t whine to me.

  4. Penda writes:

    You seem to attract these types of women, but unfortunately you can’t get to them *before* they date the pricks that essemtially ruin them for life.

    People put up with that sort of behavior because they like the companionship (in the moments when it’s not driving them bonkers). They like reaching over for the warm body in the middle of the night, sharing they leftove chinese food from the same container while watching a film

    You’ve seen it not work too many times to believe that it can work, but it does, and when it does, it’s great.

  5. PBShelley writes:

    LOL -I find myself in agreement with everything everyone has said on this topic. DC -I’ve been there, and completely understand your POV.
    I found myself enjoying “a brief respite” more than I expected, and since Lily arrived, have hardly missed relationships at all, considering they all ended in either heartbreak or acrimony.
    I have faith that Lily’s book will attract the right one (if/when, of course), and if not, I’m plenty happy now. The thought of dying alone does not appeal to me however…
    Things will sort themselves out 😉

    PBS & Lily

  6. SafeTinspector writes:

    Penda: You seem to attract these types of women, but unfortunately you can’t get to them *before* they date the pricks that essemtially ruin them for life.

    I would be willing to bet that the kinds of women who get trapped in these psuedo relationships are the kind that would reject someone like Davecat because he isn’t uber-masculine, agressive enough, or a dick-head. Before I found Heather, I don’t know how many women I was rejected by because I was too “safe” or “boring” or didn’t treat them like a pork rind. I ended up dating mainly much older women because they had figured out this:
    Women often state that they just want a nice guy. But when pushed for an answer, they’ll admit that they could never see themselves with any of the nice guys they know. So they end up with pigfuck guys who can’t even be bothered to rationalize their actions and attitudes let alone actually try to control them.

  7. Davecat writes:

    I completely agree with your assessment, SafeT.. I’m not a dickhead. 🙂 But here’s the funny thing — I prefer older women as well, which is why I was ‘pursuing’ D_____, as she’ll be forty this year. But going from what she’s told me of her past relationships — stories where I was like ‘how could you even speak to a person like that, let alone marry them??’ — the adage ‘you can’t teach an old dog new tricks’ really applies.

    By and large, people really don’t know what’s good for them, until it’s too late, it seems..

  8. Jeff "Wolfgang" Lilly writes:

    Oh, boy… I’ve found a new club to be a member of!
    I’m a male of the “teddy bear” persuasion as well… meaning that I was always the guy that women went to for comfort. So many years in high school and beyond, being the crying towel for women in horrible relationships with horrible men… trying to give what comfort I could, wondering aloud if they shouldn’t leave such abusive fucknards, wondering privately why they didn’t think I was appropriate dating material… never realizing that the “bad boys” and the “rebels” and the “pretty cool boys” is what most women want, to their continued and excruciating detriment. Women can’t say this, though… they can’t admit that they like insecure, vapid, shallow losers because that would of course reflect badly on them. So they spin the tales of their princes, of sensitive, wine-sipping, poetry-spouting men. Then, when one is put in front of them, they say things like “you’re not my type” or “we’re just friends” or some other crap. It’s the same sort of touch-feely crap that leads women to say patently untrue things like “size doesn’t matter”, when of course, in 95% of cases, it does.
    Women, as I have said before, are the moral and intellectual equals of men. I firmly believe this. The problem must be societal, then. In some way, society must teach women that these scum-suckers are the pinnacle of manhood… in the same way it tries to teach men that high heels, big tits and blonde hair are the end-all be-all of femininity.

  9. SafeTinspector writes:

    Right on, Wolfgang. They say they want it until they can have it, then they rationalize why it isn’t so desireable any more.

  10. Davecat writes:

    I would completely agree that society is to blame. When you have people that are afraid to think ‘out of the box’, as it were, because of peer pressure and fear of ridicule (‘Jenny’s dating that geek?? How gross!!’) then situations like this become the norm. Let’s hear it for individuality! 😐

    It’s funny; a day or two ago, I deleted all of D_____’s personal info from wherever I had it. If she wants to call, fine, but the less I hear of her existence, the better, as far as I’m concerned.

    ‘The mistake one makes is to speak to people’
    — Samuel Beckett

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