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matthew fiske and allie oates

11 Jul

So I’m kind of a sad excuse for a human being. I don’t get crushes a lot (like almost never), but when I do, hold on to your fucking hat, I’m a psycho. Last year, I had my first crush in years on this guy named Matthew Fiske. I met him through work, but we didn’t work together or anything. I had seen him a couple times, with no tingly feelings down there, but the second we were actually introduced and shook hands (touched) I was like, Holy shit, I’m in love!

I immediately began circling, looking for a weakness that would allow me to catch my prey off guard. I’ve grown up a lot since high school, so I didn’t start any secret Matthew Sororities or get my dad to drive by his house at night or create any screen names in his honor. But I did cyberstalk him, and all but harass him with text messages trying to get him to be my boyfriend. He seemed like a good sport for a while, very eager to please, which is what I like, but with virtually no follow-through. We hung out a couple times in a group, but I could never get him naked… errr, I mean alone.

Finally, I was presented with the perfect opportunity. My office was having a holiday party, and I needed a date. Matthew had already made plans, but said if I didn’t mind him skipping out early, we could go together. I agreed, he picked me up, we had a nice little car ride there, in which we fell deep deep in love, and then we got to the party where he was completely charming to everyone we met and we continued falling deep deep in love.

Now let me rewind a little. I have a bit of a reputation at these work parties. I usually get balls-to-the-wall drunk. I have a ridiculous story from every one of these parties: Crying on the Floor Night, Credit Card Stolen By Boss’ Son Who Spent the Night in his Car Waiting For Me to Come Blow Him Night, Wallet Stolen/Almost Arrested/Driven Home by Aunt of Home-wrecking Co-worker Night, Friend Almost Get’s DUI but I Save Her By Being her Designated Decoy Night… yes the list goes on and on. But I had vowed that on this particular night, I would save all craziness until after Matthew left. I actually kept my word.

At some point in the night, we got on the topic of crushes. He brought it up. He told me that it makes life more interesting to always have a secret crush. I thought this was a silly and childish thing to say, but I went along with it, nodded, and smiled demurely. He said, “I have a secret crush.” I said, “Me too.” But in my head, I was like, Dude, where is this going?

I walked him to the door when it was time for him to leave, and he gave me a friendly hug, but whispered in my ear, “Secret crush.” And then he was gone, leaving me wondering WHAT THE FUCK?

So I’m convinced that he’s in love with me, though the weirdness of his behavior had not escaped me. I run back into the party, stopping at the bar to ensure I’m double-fisting for the remainder of the night to make up for lost time, and immediately begin questioning everyone I run into (including my superiors) about Matthew. He said, secret crush? That means me, right? He had his arm around my shoulders, not around my waist, thats a bad sign right? He said he had fun, not a good time. Which is better? You saw how he was acting, do you think he likes me? Like I said, I’m a freak. Everyone was trying to get away from me after that so I did the only thing I knew to do. I started massaging the butt of a stranger playing pool. I punched (and continued to threaten) a co-worker’s large, black husband. I inserted myself into every photo being taken. I spilled a drink on our highest profile “client” (so high-profile, that I am certain, you reader, have heard of him). And then I passed out at the bar.

Eventually the bouncer woke me up and put me in a cab. The cab driver and I became great friends until we got to my front door and he asked me if he could come upstairs with me. I told him that usually I would accept his offer (in exchange for free cabfare of course), but on this night I was Matthew Fiske’s secret crush, and I couldn’t taint this beautiful night with a one-night stand. Once upstairs, I walked out on my balcony. It was a chilly LA night, and I sighed with drunken contentment as I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and looked out over the twinkling lights of the valley. That’s funny, I thought. Why are my car keys in my coat pocket? I then pulled out someone else’s car keys from my coat. As I was wondering how the keys got there, I looked down at the sleeve of my coat and realize that my brand new, bright blue coat had faded into a dull charcoal color. I was initially pissed until I realized what you all have already realized: I was wearing someone else’s coat. With someone else’s car keys. Meaning someone couldn’t get home.

I immediately called the bar and tried to drunkenly explain what had happened. They told me to call back tomorrow. I was like, “No, no, no, you don’t understand. Someone can’t get home.” They wouldn’t even take my number. My FB status that night was something about wearing someone else’s coat, and one of my friends/co-workers immediately responded that it was this girl Allie Oates‘s coat. That apparently she had been panicked, behind me at the bar WHILE I WAS SLEEPING, asking the bartender if anyone had seen her coat. It’s all sorta beautifully cinematic if you think about it. Anyway, so I got Allie her coat the next day, she was such a good sport about it, we even became friends on Facebook after that.

At work on Monday, everyone came prepared to make fun of me again. It wasn’t until about halfway through the day though, that a mutual friend of mine and Matthew’s shows me that at some point between Matthew leaving the party and me passing out at the bar, I had drunken Facebooked him, writing on his wall, “You’re my secret crush!!!!!”

We didn’t speak for six months. Apparently, I wasn’t his.

ryan frost

8 Jul

Ok, now we’re gonna switch things up a little bit. The last few Facebook friends have been people who I think are assholes or who did something really ridiculous to me.

Ryan Frost, however was my bad.

First of all, the last name isn’t a coincidence, Ryan is Jacob’s brother. His twin brother. But this story is a prequel to that entire relationship.

I’m going to try to make this as uncomplicated as possible. The summer before my freshman year of high school, I attended summer school to get some crappy classes out of the way. Mostly, I didn’t want to have to dress out every day during the regular school year, so I took the required P.E. classes. It was here that I met Jacob and Ryan. They were a year older than I was, and dangerous. Not really, they were just a year older. I immediately took a liking to Jacob, as he was kinda a prick, and I’m really into that.

Now it is important to note that at this point, my best friend had just moved halfway around the world, so I was entering high school virtually friendless. Jacob and Ryan had quite the fan base, as they were more hot than not, and well… they were twins. When my crush on Jacob became obvious to my competition, they befriended me. They being Becky Kaminsky, Rebecca Knoll and Glenda Shedd. They were Jacob and Ryan’s age and had been classmates of theirs all through elementary and middle school. They taught me everything I know.

This was the birth of my stalking prowess. I learned their favorite foods, their favorite colors, their class schedule, their family history, where they lived, their phone number, how many times they masturbated a day (and when), their bus number, their locker combinations. I knew them better than I’ve ever known anyone that I’d spoken less than twenty words to in my entire life. Looking back, if I were them, I woulda been scared out of my fucking mind, but at the time, we thought we were being silly and Jacob especially always seemed amused.

I mentioned before that I was in the habit of making up fake names online and talking to people. One Thanksgiving, I was in an Albuquerque* chat room, claiming to be Ashley Gallagher who had just moved there from Camp Hill, Pennsylvania (yes, I put a lot of thought into my backstory). This boy started IMing me, we discovered that we both went to the same high school, and we kinda just hit it off. This was back when I was connected to the internet via a dial-up modem. This boy sent me his picture, and it started slowly appearing on the screen, centimeter by centimeter. Seconds after he had signed off, the image completed downloading, and it’s none other than Ryan Frost. And yes, I could tell the difference. Because I was am fucking crazy.

The mature thing to do at this point, would be to never use that alias/screen name again and move on with my life. But at the time I felt like it was fate. I had been given this golden ticket to insight on my boys. I would be Becky, Rebecca and Glenda’s hero. However, that’s not exactly how it went down. Ryan and I chatted every night for hours, and I never told my friends. I was always actually a pretty square girl, and lying to someone I actually knew really made me hate myself. Not only because we shared a lot of personal stuff, but because I could feel myself falling for him, and I was pretty sure he felt the same way. We arranged to meet several times. Every time, I watched him wait for me, and I always stood him up. It was really pretty fucked up, but like Jake Gyllenhaal, I had no idea how to quit him. This went on for about two months. And then my conscience got the best of me. Before we could have any sort of You’ve Got Mail moment (him, me, my dog, in a garden, Somewhere Over the Rainbow…), I deleted the screen name and moved on with my life.

But it haunted me. Mostly because I was left with that, ‘What if?’ I wondered if I had come clean, told him who I was, if he would still want to be with me. Turns out that answer was no. Toward the end of the school year, he just straight up asked me if it had been me, I admitted to it, and that was that.

Jacob and I became friends after that. Ryan and I never did.

I mean we never did in real life. Obviously we are on Facebook. This story actually really depresses me. Thanks a lot.

*I made up Albuquerque. Or did I…?