I Only Date Superheroes! ....NOT: The Narcissist (Entry 1)

Ran across this journal about a month ago with a picture of various male Marvel comic book characters centered between the words "I Only Date Superheroes." Being a lightweight comic book fan, I bought it. Then I had this great idea. I can use this journal to document all of the ridiculous encounters I have had with males over the years and rename my journal "I've Only Dated Superassholes!"

I won't blog all of my entries. This is a test-pilot of sorts, to see if my less than savory experiences will at least bring someone else joy.

Oh, and if I've dated you in the past....don't be shocked if you come across a story about you. On the bright side, no one knows I'm referring to you except for you! ;)

I'll spare you the prelude I wrote in my journal and delve directly into my first entry:

The Narcissist

He was tall, dark, and (by several other women's standards) handsome. I mean.....he was aight, I guess. 

His head was rather large. A physical attribute that is undoubtedly a foreshadowing for the single woman that exchanges contact information with him.

We only had one date. It wasn't really a date... More like we were just existing in a room together at the same time. If that's what you want to call a date.

He invited me to his place to watch a Lakers game. RED FLAG NUMBER ONE

Not so much that he invited me to his place for our first chance to truly exist in each other's presence. He was a freaking Lakers' fan! I knew then that this was not going to work.

Against better judgement and as an advocate of my own curiosity, I went anyway.

His house was a complete bachelor's pad. **retracted the details just in case some of yall wimmin have been invited to the house of this same foo**

He offered me Jack and Coke. Of course, I accepted. I would need liquor to get through watching a full Lakers game with a Lakers fan. Thank God and whatever secondary-deity that may or may not exist that I did. Ninety-eight point three percent of Lakers fans are obnoxious. This is a known fact. But this guy didn't piss me off by talking about how great and mighty his team Kobe was.

Ten minutes of unmemorable conversation had passed when he felt the need to show me a picture of him and his friends at an event they had the night before.

That's koo.

"Ya'll looked nice."

Then he showed me again. 

And again.

And more times.

Each subsequent time, he had cropped out one of his friends on each side until only he remained, standing in the middle of all of his glory looking exactly. the fucking. same. as he did the first time he showed me. 

I had never been so annoyed in my life.

Around "Look at this pic now," number 5, I was fiending* to watch the game.
*http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fiending 

Yup. 

Me.

The anti-Laker. Wanted to actually watch the game without having to gaze upon a picture of this muthafucka every 37 seconds.

Oh yea...important fact. There were 10 total people in the picture, at first. And I had to look at each freshly cropped photo.

I stuck it out to the end because back then I was polite (stupid) and figured I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore after he fully gratified himself by being The Uncroppable.

Wrong.

After mutilating that group picture pixel-by-pixel, he apparently became comfortable enough to show me EVEN MORE pictures of himself. I could not take it anymore.

"If you show me one more picture of yourself, I am going to beat your ass. I told you that you looked nice the first time. And again. And again. You look exactly the same! Shit..."

Unlady-like, but effective.

We managed to transition back into more unmemorable conversation after that, and I left with no intentions of ever returning. As I look back on that night, I can only thank God that it was during the pre-selfie era.

Thank you, God.