the problems with cargo khakis

(original post: december 11, 2007)

i dated someone for a hot minute some summers ago, a guy with good intentions and a big heart. we didn't work out long before we stopped talking, because i was insistent that i didn't want a boyfriend and because his insistence that he was in love with me. i just wanted a distraction, someone to laugh with and hang out. i think he wanted to live with me.

we did not have much in common, obviously.

anyway, he contacted me after we had blown the fuse with the whole relationship thing and he told me he was moving to california, probably within the next week, to begin work on a huge big money movie with famous actors and hefty paychecks. and he said he wanted to take me out to dinner to hang out one last time.

"like a date?" i asked, implying the dress up/down notch on the bedpost.
"like a date date." he said. "we've never gone out on a nice date."

so that means to dress up a little, agreed? a "date date" is the double dog dare of a "date", and he used the adjective "nice" so that means put a little elbow grease in it. push up the girls, splash some red across your lips, etc...

and i looked damned good. heels, a skirt, a shirt not from a plastic bagged set of four. i answered the door to him in cargo khaki's, converse, and a stained white work shirt. he worked at a gay bar. logo all over the shirt.

i didn't know what to say. I was embarrassed that i had gotten dressed up for him, like i just wasted my precious time brooding over what would make me look good. thinking that i had thought too much into it, i mumbled someting about being overdressed, and quickly went back to my closet. i changed into jeans and a wife beater, wiped the red off my lips, and sullenly walked out the door in silence. we ended up going to a bar and eating fried onion rings and french fries, getting drunk in awkwardness and stella, until he confessed to me that he had purposely dressed down. he said he knew that i was going to dress up and he wanted to act like it wasn't going to be a big deal that he was going to see me, maybe ever again.

he wore khaki's to be cool? he wore khakis to be mother fucking COOL?!? i mean, i had figured that anyway, but if you're gonna do something as childish as pretending not to care about something you actually really do, at least you could have gone with some other form of pants. maybe go plaid, or rip your jeans. don't insult me with khaki fucking cargos...

but why even do that in the first place? why come to my door, and foreclose a possibly wonderful time? there's no fucking point in sabotaging something that has already been sabotaged. we weren't going to go home together and fuck. we weren't even going to fucking make-out a little, so why try and be an even bigger douche? you do realize that this will be the way i think of you for the rest of my life... as the guy who didn't care enough about me just so that he would make himself look good.

it's bullshit.

if you like something, say so. if you want me, have me. but don't dress in khakis when you wish you would have worn jeans. it makes you look bad and the other person feel bad. i was so disappointed in the whole evening, and when i think of him randomly i am always brought back to the fact that he was too cool to be affected by me. insignifigance is not bliss.

i recently talked to him for the first time in about a year and a half. he's doing well, i think he's been dating someone out there for a while now. i hope he dresses up for dates now. she'd probably appreciate that.

k.