Fun boys

I know it's been a while. There are so many tales I want to spill onto this page, so many socially retarded guys I want to vilify (anonymously of course). But alas, time constraints exist. After hearing my latest dating debacle, my guy friend told me, "You know Yellow Gal, you should totally write a book. The title would be 'The Memoirs of Yellow Gal' where you could write about all the freak guys you meet."

Never mind the face biter/exfoliator, the 23-year-old who thought it was acceptable to blow off dinner with me to play his online poker game, or the 37-year-old who talked about his dog's case of the runs during lunch on our first date. The latest catch is a 29-year-old guy who:

a) "complimented" me by telling me that he unchivalrously requested that I take an hour-long train ride to see him to test whether or not I really liked him;
b) tried to have sex with me on the second date,
c) got irritated when I refused;
d) subsequently whined about his "blue balls"; and
e) on our 3rd date, brought his friend along and ignored me the whole time by making me sit in the back seat while they bantered, essentially making me feel like the third wheel.

I had a talk with him and he apologized for the above acts and attempted, pathetically and unsuccessfully, to justify himself to me. The boy is charming, but all the charm in the world couldn't conceal the fact that he was utterly bereft of any chivalry or decency.

Mr. Right is out there. He's elusive, he's a rarity, but he's there. I have to believe he is.

Otherwise, at least I can live off the royalties of my memoirs.