I Hate Bus Stops. And Men. And Especially Men at Bus Stops.

When people find out that I’ve never had a boyfriend, their response is almost always, “Really? Why not? Are you too picky?”

What the FUCK is that supposed to mean? “Too picky” would imply that I have unreasonable standards, and I most certainly do not. I can’t help it that all the men in my “love life” have been total weird-asses!

Seriously, you’ve read the stories about my dates. And those are the men whom I’ve actually agreed to meet. Can you imagine the creeps who don’t even make it that far?

For those of you who lack imagination, I’ll give you an example that demonstrates the general caliber of the men who hit on me.

Last night, I waited alone at a bus stop after leaving a Halloween party. There were about 4 benches available, and they were all completely empty. I plopped down on one and began silently judging everyone who walked by.

A tall black man, whom I will call BJ, approached the bus stop (the rationale behind this name will be revealed shortly). BJ looked for a place to sit, and SAT DOWN RIGHT NEXT TO ME. God damnit! Three other empty benches of course this MoFo needs to sit down next to me! This doesn’t sound that bad, but let me tell you more about him.

First off, he was clad in all ivory pimp suit – including a ridiculous fedora and gaudy loafers. Was this his Halloween costume? No. No, it was not, as he informed me that he had just come from an “audition.” I don’t even want to know what the hell one auditions for at 1 fucking AM over the weekend.

Second, he had a grill. Yes, I actually just typed the words “HE HAD A GRILL.” You know, as in GOLD TEETH with jewels on it. GREAT. Nothing’s hotter than a 45 year-old man with rhinestones in his fucking mouth.

Third, I overheard his telephone conversation, where he made plans to meet his friends “at the KFC.” I couldn’t believe my ears. I was sitting next to a living breathing ghetto black guy caricature.

And I’m not even done yet. Lastly, as soon as BJ had initially sat down next to me, he fucking busted out BEEF JERKEY and snacked up a storm as he was spitting his game! Yes, he literally ATE beef jerkey the ENTIRE TIME he was hitting on me!!! Now you know why he will now forever be known as “BJ” (for those of you who know me well, you know that a man eating beef jerkey would normally be a turn on for me as I love seasoned, well-preserved animal products; however, in combination with the grill and head-to-toe matching, it became unacceptable).

And I was stuck at the fucking bus stop with BJ for over 20 minutes because there were no buses and no cabs and the universe hates me. I wanted to throw myself off the bridge. The only thing stopping me was the fact that I was wearing a ridiculous pirate costume, and I like to imagine that I’ll die with dignity someday.

Anyhow, BJ would NOT stop asking me questions (You got a man? Where you goin? Were you at the Timbaland concert?), DESPITE the fact that I had my damn BACK turned to him the ENTIRE TIME. Who the HELL talks to a girl’s back?!?! God, get some pride!

I loathe my love life.

So. Do any of you still want to tell me that I’m too picky?

Yeah, thought so. Bitches.