Bongo Jordy

AKA, the story of how one man embarrassed his way onto my blog. And my blocked list. Or something like that.

It all started about a month ago. Lacey, Nicole and I were meeting up for margaritas and tater tots at Trailer Park Lounge. I got there early so I stood outside waiting. There was a guy there smoking a cigarette, and I did what I always do: I ignored him. But then he started talking to me, and this is how it all went down. My internal comments are in italics. And because I'd rather not call him "BJ," let's just go with "J."

Bongo Jordy: Alicia?
Arielle: No.
J: ....Alicia.
A: No.
J: Alicia...the topless drummer from the nude beach?
A: What? No. (WHAT THE FUCKKKK)
J: Oh, sorry. You looked like someone I know from--
A: Yup, got it. Not her. Not Alicia. Not a topless drummer. Never been to a nude beach.

To be honest, I don't totally recall exactly how the rest of the conversation went. Some of it was more normal. Some of it involved this guy telling me that he grew up in Tahiti and learned to play the bongos and now he plays at a bar downtown and maybe I should come see him play sometime and seriously, ask anyone for Bongo Jordy and they'll know him. I didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth but I was sort of amused so I gave him my number when he asked. And then Lacey and Dave arrived and I went with them inside.

So of course, Nicole had been waiting inside the entire time and within about 3 seconds we got the full report of the weird guy creeping out every girl up in this place and yes, OF COURSE it was the same person that I just gave my number to. Nicole was all, RED FLAGS, SEE THEM WAVING and I was all, meh, the damage is done and he was funny. And kind of cute.

About a week later, the first text message came. Here are some highlights from the first few days:

J: Lady love don't turn on me. I'm just a student of your history. (umm)

A: You were pretty drunk when we met if I recall.
J: Kinda. But I climbed a mountain and I turned around.
A: Did you see your reflection in the snow covered hills? (Please. I know Fleetwood Mac when I see it)
J: A wee bit, but I mostly saw you.

J: Can I send a photo?
A: Maybe tomorrow, going to bed. Goodnight.

If you think I didn't have a picture in my text messages the next morning, you'd be wrong. He said it was a picture of him trying to be "sophistical." On a scale of 1 to 10, how much I want to post the picture here: 11. But I won't. Later that day...

J: I drowned then I found, it was a dream, I got lost in the frost that covered your window sill.
J: Crappy poetry, the window sell is metophoric, like looking in on a locked place, u know. [sic sic sic all up in this poorly written text]
A: Next time you can spare me the poetry (He later told me this line of poetry was inspired by the new Harry Potter movie. WHAT?!)

At some point after Thanksgiving, he asked if I was in school or work or whatever. He said when he was in school he "majored in bongo playing with a minor in salsa." I said I'm done with school.

J: Let me guess you majored in being beautiful and studied breaking hearts in your spare time. (Cringe)

There was some more awkward texting after that, and then I didn't hear from him for a week or 2. On Friday night, the plans I had ended early and I was bored, so I texted him, "Hey how are you?" No response. FINE.

Saturday at around 1 PM he called me. I normally don't think I would have answered except for the fact that I was already drunk (more on that later). So I talked to him briefly, and he told me that he disabled outgoing text messages (whaaat?) but we could email back and forth if that was cool. And I said it was which may have been the biggest mistake EVER.

The thing is, the reason I was drunk at 1 PM on Saturday is because it was Santacon. I was dressed like an elf, pounding Four Loko, in a cab with my friend Lauren on our way to meet up with a few hundred other people all dressed as Santa or other holiday characters. And despite having a smartphone, I had no intention of checking my email every 2 seconds or even really every 2 hours while I was out and about. This fact was apparently lost on Bongo Jordy. So while he said email was the same as texting to him, it most definitely was not to me.

By the time I checked my email a few hours later, I had 4 emails from him:

1) ok so this is mine, but I do like the sound of your voice maybe I can call instead? If yes, cirlce yes, or if no circle no in the below box, thanks.

Yes ( ) No ( )

2) The same email as number 1. Only sent an hour later and formatted differently which means he definitely rewrote it and resent it. Seriously.

3) Well I'm doing fine thanks for asking bye.

4) So I guess that is ya. (English???)

Eventually I responded and explained that I was out at Santacon.

J: Ok please don't sleep with anybody, one your drunk, two it make me jealous even though I don't know you that well it still would for some reason, o.k. thanks. (And this is where I mark the official turn for the worse)
J: I have a big bed you can sleep here if you like, no funny biz. I swear. (Just need to note that these are separate emails that he writes me WITHOUT ME RESPONDING. Oh, and I'm cutting out some of his emails too which means...STOP EMAILING ME)
A: Sorry, I'm staying on the UWS tonight.
J: Is UWS some kind of hotel?
A: Haha no, it's Upper West Side.
J: Yeah I know it was a joke, so ya that's fine go stay with another guy then on the UWS. (First of all, I don't get your joke. Second of all...aa;slkdnfvfaoiwefsd)
J: Ok pardon my petty jealousy, anyway have a big bed if you want to sleep in, thanks.

Okay, this post is getting way too long but let's just say he reminded me that he has a big bed to sleep in, then called me a binge drinker for being drunk by 10 PM (er, I started drinking at 10 AM Saturday but WHATEVS), then told me he really is a "caring and gentle lover." To this I said, "haha."

J: Glad you think that my pasionate embrace is a joke, but trust me all the women who I have made sweet love too have said repeatedly, sometimes even in police reports, that it was something they cannot forget. So you be be the judge.

And I need to stop this super long post now. But OH GOD, BONGO JORDY WILL NOT GO AWAY. So I'm going to have a Bongo Jordy post part 2. Because this is ridiculous.