Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part I
Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part II
Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part III
Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part IV
Synopsis: Seventy-eight minutes before the wedding was to start, Brandon Singer bailed as my date. The “extenuating” circumstances? He’d boozed too hard the previous night. Thanks for the trash, Brandon Singer. Earlier that week, the bride-to-be facebook messaged me, “I’m sooo curious – who r u bringing to the wedding? I was secretly hoping for mr lambo. Is it really over between u two? It seemed like you had such a strong connection with him.” I responded, “I am torn. :(” I was torn because Mr. Lambo and I had “broken up” a few days before the wedding and I didn’t want to reengage emotionally. Instead, I made the mistake of inviting Mr. Singer. Upon Brandon Singer’s last minute cancellation, I was fortunate enough to have my friend Sheldon agreed to join me. Thanks, Shellie!
Part IV ended with Mr. Hipster sitting to my right at dinner table #69. He was dateless. He was also very sociable. I told him that I was almost dateless too, but that Sheldon saved me. At first, Mr. Hipster and Sheldon were talking a lot. I wasn’t sure whether he was using me as a vehicle to get to Sheldon or Sheldon as a vehicle to get to me. You see, skinny jeans throw up question marks as to a man’s heterosexuality. Sheldon was more interested in conversing with the couple to his left. So, I was left with Mr. Hipster. I started telling him about Mr. Lambo. Sheldon turned and told me that Mr. Hipster didn’t care and to stop talking to the guy. I asked Sheldon to shut the hell up. I then turned to Mr. Hipster and asked if he was annoyed with my storytelling. He said he wasn’t. So, I continued.
Mr. Hipster is a very touchy character, as in he touches a lot. If you’ve read some of my previous write-ups, you know I do not like strangers immediately infringing upon my personal space. He was definitely a personal space infringer. His hipster fingers kept brushing up on my arm. I tried my best not to cringe. Finally, he put his hand around my wrist while in conversation. I pulled my arm away and explained my aversion to hasty human touch. I told him that I let the unnecessary contact slide until he grabbed my arm in a restraining way. I do not like being restrained. He gave me the ever-familiar “wtf, you’re a weirdo” look. We then proceeded with our chatting. (I should have written this sooner while I more vividly remembered the details, but oh well.)
He mentioned his band and guitar. Remember how I just wrote about my dislike of immediate touching? Well, I arguably like guitars even less. I asked, “Do you have a job other than your music stuff?” He said, “No.” As if my face didn’t adequately express my dissatisfaction with his chosen profession, I verbalized it. He laughed. He explained that he knew the bride because in her younger days, she managed his band. It was then that someone summoned him to perform on his guitar in the reception hall. Ugh.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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RELATED POSTS:
Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part I
Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part II
Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part III
Click here for I Hate Brandon Singer Part IV
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