Crowdsourcing Bullsh*t

And then there was the time I was on the way to our nation's Capitol, writing this post and texting with a gentleman, who is actually in some of the older stories, while he was reading this blog for the first time. So meta.

A couple of months ago, I needed (read: wanted) to get out of a date.  I'm normally on board with giving someone more than one chance to see if there's a connection, but the one time I’d been out with this guy caused me to develop a nervous twitch at the thought of seeing him again.  Or maybe that was just the chardonnay shakes.  I can’t be too sure.  Anyhow, he didn’t make it terribly appealing to get together for round two when he texted me, “Seafood? Is 6:30 or 7:00 good?  How about we meet in Midtown?” Just what every 31-year old New Yorker wants to sacrifice her Friday night to: seafood in Midtown at the 75+ crowd seating.  

I happened to run into my friend Tara in the lobby soon after seeing his suggestion and immediately started to whine to her how I needed out.  I told her, “I’m just going to be direct and say, ‘how about we don’t.’”  She told me that was too mean, so I made up some BS about working on a new biz pitch which sounded totally plausible and came to me disturbingly fast. The thing is I’m honest, sometimes to a fault, but I feel like certain situations just call for it.  This is one of them - notice the date range:

If you ever happen to locate your dignity again, please grab ahold of it tightly.

I've since used the new biz pitch excuse on at least two separate occasions. It's a good one. However, in order to keep it fresh, I decided the best thing to do would be to build up an arsenal of excuses to use right off the bat and never again find myself with a looming Midtown seafood predicament.  

The most reasonable way to do this seemed to be crowdsourcing on Facebook. What I learned is that most of you are quick to channel your inner 11-year old and make poop jokes. And it's not that I don't find Oops I Crapped My Pants funny, I do, but it's not something you're realistically going to tell someone. Even if your'e me. Here are some of my other favorites coming out of that request:

• I have to petition the White House
• I have to feed my cat
• I have to get more cats; the farm isn't going to populate itself
• Spastic colon
• Sudden onset of crabs and lesbianism
• Needed to wait for a good excuse from one of my Facebook friends telling me how to get out of a date last minute. Er, wait a minute...
• Maybe just show him my Facebook wall
• Whine about my day blaming various other racial groups. If he doesn't cancel on me, call him a racist and cancel on him.  

And of course, more diarrhea, emergency diarrhea and STDs. Thanks, everyone. It's been a real pleasure. Maybe one day, if any of this ever works out, I'll get you all to weigh in on my vows. They may not be the most sincere, and surely won't give Shakespeare a run for his money, but it will certainly be entertaining when I promise to love and honor someone through every imaginable digestive ailment.  

A couple of people suggested I give this guy a chance, saying he's clearly interested. He is undoubtedly persistent; I'll give him that. However, once again faced with the prospect of spending an evening with him, the only thing I could think to say was, "how about we don't."

Until the next catastrophic engagement, 

Vennifer.