SharpNose's Journal: Warmonger Bitch

As you recall, the "X Bitch" nicknames came about primarily so that my best friends, Robe and D., could keep track of which Twisted Wreck I was talking about. The use of the word "Bitch" in the nickname was fair or unfair to different degrees. This woman qualified in a big hurry.

Remember the IRC-like thing that was at the college I went to? That's how I came across two girls in addition to Mary - Ashley and Lorraine. However, I didn't actually get to know them until after I had graduated and moved away for that Air Force job. Then and for a few years thereafter, I had dialup access to a local college's network that was able to connect back to the machine at my old college that ran the IRC-like thing, which was known as Talk.

And, sadly, Talk was a large part of my social life after I moved away. I'd be dialed up via my Amiga most nights. Just like IRC, Talk had a private message mode, and there were several people that I'd chat with privately fairly regularly.

I had started playing in community theater musicals and Ashley, Ashley's boyfriend, and Lorraine came down for one show. We hung out in the parking lot for a while afterwards and while I don't remember what prompted this, at one point Lorraine stuck her tongue in my ear. That's one way to get my attention. Lorraine carried some weight but she was actually a very pretty brunette - in face, she had done some print modeling when she was younger.

So, we conversed a lot and it was pretty clear that we dug each other and would like to spend some time with each other despite living about 100 miles apart. And, I did have occasion to pay her a visit during one of my trips to the big city; backrubs were exchanged. However, the "real fun" lay ahead.

We even talked about doing things like running off to a little beachside hotel in Fernandina Beach, Florida for a weekend. I'd never done anything like that before and it seemed like such a natural, fun, and life-affirming thing to do that I was very excited at the prospect.

We arranged for me to come up and spend the night at her apartment. As I recall, I left my mother under the impression that I was going to be at D.'s all weekend when in reality I planned to spend Friday night at D.'s and Saturday night at Lorraine's. [EXAMPLE TO OTHERS: Move away from home and you won't feel as compelled to cover your tracks.]

I remember we sat and watched a movie - The Color Purple - and we hung on the couch afterwards, companiably talking. I don't know how things turned so bad so quickly, but the next thing I knew, Lorraine was calling me a "warmonger" for working for the Air Force. I couldn't believe she was serious, but she was.

I'm not a "hawk" but I always thought and still think that to the extent that the "American way of life" is important, it needs to be protected. But, seeing as all I was doing for the Air Force at the time was to develop software for boxes that tested other boxes that went on a military aircraft, to call me a warmonger would have been a stretch among stretches. It's not as though I was personally calling in air strikes in Libya or something.

I was floored. She had turned on me in the course of a minute or less.

There really wasn't anything I could do or say to save the evening. If you had decided that I'm a warmonger because I worked for the Air Force, then I couldn't very much say, "no, I don't work for the Air Force." Not even "I'll quit on Monday" was going to save the situation. That I worked for the Air Force was common knowledge, even back when we were talking about running off to Florida for a weekend.

Yeah, I slept with her, but sleep was all that transpired on her little futon. We didn't discuss the matter at all the next day, but Lorraine and I met up with her mother to do some shopping; I remember just pretty much going along for the ride and not saying much. Then, I went home.

I don't know what became of the Warmonger Bitch. Eventually, my local dialup went down and never came back, and a year or two later I decided to start getting a life.

Please leave comments if you have a possible explanation as to what happened. I have a theory, and that is that I was moving too slowly, i.e., I hadn't taken the tongue-in-the-ear, the beach trip talk, and the invitation to come spend the night with her as enough of a clue that Lorraine wanted me to make a move (reading this back to myself, I guess I was pretty stupid, huh?) and, once the move didn't come (I guess because I was waiting for her to make a move or some sign that a move would be welcome), she decided to hand-grenade the whole relationship.

It is called a shittest.

[rkz]

basic crux of the situation was that she was testing you. The kind of woman test where you lose by anwsering the question in nearly any sensible way.
If you said "yeah I love warmongering and killing people" you would have lost.
If you said "I'll quit monday" you would have lost.

Ideally you should have dismissed it and said something like "I prefer to make love not war", and started making out with her.

Re:It is called a shittest.

[SharpNose]

That's an interesting idea, but I'm not sure it's more likely than mine. I would think that a "shittest" would have been conducted earlier in the game.

Just the same, if you're right, it was a doozie and I certainly flunked it. I probably should have started making out with her in advance of any long-ass movie with Oprah Winfrey in it.