Friday, December 27, 2013

Best of the BLOW OFF: the break-up that inspired the BLOW OFF

Editor's Note: This may have to be my all time favorite post, because it was this very BLOW OFF that inspired me to create this blog.  I really hate that it was at the expense of my bestie getting her heartbroken, BUT the good news is she's much better off today and currently lives with her wonderful boyfriend.  The original post was published in June 2010 and was titled The "See, I'm not an Asshole" BLOW OFF.  Enjoy!

Fall 2009. I was still a Cupertino castaway, in my parent's house, after living in NYC for six years. I was a foreigner back in the land of sunshine and strip malls, and I admit, pretty lonely in suburbia.

Around this time, I had met a guy who I didn't really think too much of at first. After a few fun dates though, I started to let my guard down a little. He was tall and handsome and we seemed to have a lot in common. He pretended to laugh at my dumb jokes and we watched the same tv shows. That's about all I can ask for these days.

Out of the blue one day, around date #4, he canceled dinner on me. Funny thing was that I had woken up that morning and had a weird feeling that he would do that. I just KNEW. It's just instinct, I suppose-- we always KNOW when shit's about to hit the fan, don't we? So I wasn't surprised when he called to say he wasn't feeling well, just a few hours before we were supposed to meet.

"He's lying," my friend said to me, "you can tell."

Blow off?

All downhill from there.

He totally went MIA on me. We had been avid chatters, texters, emailers and even talked on the phone (kinda overboard for a dude I'd only been out with a few times, but I was just going with it), and all of the sudden, POOF! No contact. We had so much fun the last time we met up! What was going on? I was confused.

I didn't call him. He didn't call me.

A week went by, no contact. Nothing.

So, this is definitely the blow off, right? Hmmm, not quite just yet.

I threw a big party that following week. It would be a big night out, and all five of my friends would be there. I had invited him to come before his disappearance, and he had said he would come. Since we hadn't been in contact for a week, it didn't even cross my mind that he would remember.

[Ok, that's a lie. I totally thought about it all day and made sure I looked extra cute, just in case he did come.]

And guess what? He did. He fucking showed up with his friends. I was shocked, but managed to act nonchalant all night. I figured that it was a big deal for him to come, meet all my friends, and that he was extending the olive branch after avoiding me all week.



Long story short, it ended a week later with the all-too-typical Let's just be friends mantra.

Wait for it... wait for it...

Ohhhhh, ok, so THIS is the blow off. Like, the official one. Awesome!

Honestly, I got the message loud and clear when he canceled dinner (Blow Off #1), then went MIA on me (Blow Off #2). Got it. You're just not that into me. I studied the book and saw the movie, and while they both made me want to gauge my eyeballs out, I learned a thing or two about the SIGNS to look out for. I'm a big girl, and can handle it, thanks.

That said, you know the one thing that I am totally NOT ok with? The fact that he showed up to the party.

WHY did he come? Why would he go through all the trouble to come out and meet my friends? To stick around the whole night and act like he actually gave a shit?

I'll tell you why. This is the classic See, I'm Not an Asshole! Blow Off. Dudes do this quite often-- they are petrified of being labeled The Asshole so they go out of the way to do something nice, only to turn around and fuck you twice over.

This is also a close cousin to the Wait, Let Me Just Make Sure, Just One More Time, That I Really Don't Like You Blow Off. Yah, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Boys, this sucks. Don't do it. BE A GENTLEMAN. Don't avoid being an asshole-- just don't be one.

PS- Confession: It's true. This is the now-famous blow off that started THE BLOW OFF. The rest is history.

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