Douchebagicity

Douchebagicity: the art of being a douche. the general essence of a douche bag."I think you're mistaking courteousness for douchebagicity"- Urban Dictionary

I cannot win.

Friday night Happy Hour, I was invited by work friends to join them after their golf fundraiser. Serial Killer in Training who sits beside me and provides insurmountable entertainment, was going to be there and since he lives on the other side of town it was a rare opportunity to grab a drink outside of work. I really didn't want to be around Work Guy, but there were plenty of other people I like from work to talk to. I felt like this was another big step for me.

At the bar I chatted with my old boss before the golfers trickled in. It was a mad house in there, loud, people packed together. I was mildly uncomfortable when the ex strolled in but continued to talk with the others about their game. My biker friend who I'd been friends with for years had agreed to meet up for a drink and a bite to eat. After fighting to get a drink (shot to commemorate our friend who died 11 years ago) we opted to sit outside where we wouldn't get jostled around and could hear.

I told him a bit about the guy inside I used to date and it was like summoning the devil. Mid-conversation, Work Guy sat down at our table and introduced himself as "The Asshole Ex-Boyfriend". My mouth popped open and I was worried my friend would kill Work Guy right then and there. Work Guy said he wanted to make sure that I wasn't sitting outside because he was inside...

How fucking juvenile. Why the hell would I go to a bar with mutual acquaintances, knowing he would be there, and then sit outside to avoid him? I'm sure my venomous glare was interpreted correctly. I informed the misguided toddler who thinks the world revolves around him that we chose to sit outside because it was noisy inside. He kept pushing. Is it just in his character to make people feel like shit? Yes. Yes it is. He is the cruelest man I have ever had the displeasure of seeing naked.

I tried to steer the conversation away from my discomfort. We talked about work, but it quickly became a snippy debate. When I tried to joke about meeting a co-worker who moved from Boston who used to enjoy talking down to me and I had stood up for myself Work Guy laughed, then went on to say that the same guy had been complaining about me to him. Work Guy assumed the guy knew we dated and was being candid with him because he could relate. My blood went cold and I felt the color drain from my face.

"Why would you assume he was talking to you about that because we dated?"

"You know," making a gesture like elbowing someone in the ribs. "Just that I would understand or something because we dated."

"Why? He thought you could commiserate with his "Isn't she a bitch, you should know from experience" camaraderie?"

"No, I just thought he knew."

"Do other people do that?" He paled a bit. This was dangerous ground with his little promotion. It's called hostile work environment, you fuckwad.

So, he went below the belt and announced how all the eastern managers disliked me because I call them out on their shit. He placed the blow like a compliment, the positive aspect of my being straightforward and right. The negative, underlying meaning: no one likes you when you talk. This manipulative man tried his damnedest to pull it off that he wasn't insulting me, but there were too many conversations where I had expressed my sadness about coming off wrong and having people dislike me for it. He used it against me, like he turned everything against me. And all because I went to a work happy hour and sat outside with my friend.

A couple co-workers wandered outside to sit with us and I used that to return inside to get another drink. I really hadn't intended on staying this long and felt bad I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to some other people. My heart was still pounding from Work Guy's masked insults. I wanted to go home, but wouldn't run away. I started to blab to Serial Killer in Training when back comes Work Guy for Round Two.

He started on explaining again he didn't want yo make me uncomfortable, choosing to go where he wasn't at the bar. I was trying to get drinks and talk to people! Was I supposed to sit next to him all night to prove I could? I was shaking now. I looked him straight in the face, wondering how I ever thought him attractive...

"I will go where ever I want to go. It doesn't really matter where you are." It came out blunt so I waived my hands. He laughed uncomfortably like I had given him a gift, shown my anger and true colors. "I know that came out bitchy, but you making me uncomfortable has no bearing on where I choose to hang out."

Then, he looks at Serial Killer and leans into me.

"I think he was a bit edgy around me earlier today at the tournament. So, I told him I heard the rumors Boss made up about you guys calling in sick on the same days. You know, that you guys were seeing each other. And I told him 'Hey it's cool if you've got something going with Kate." Like a punch to the gut. Again, blood went cold and face paled. He had said what? To my friend? I was beyond mortified. This toddler was progressively getting worse.

I leaned into him and said "He has a beautiful girlfriend". Work Guy misheard and thought I was calling his new girlfriend beautiful. Why he would think I would change the subject after he punched me by probably ruining my fun work relationship with Serial Killer, I don't know. Introverted ego maniacal idiot that he is.

"No, he has a beautiful girlfriend. I just sit next to the guy." Then the conversation veered. I went to a socially awkward place and said God knows what else which elicited strange looks from old boss and Serial Killer. I grabbed my beers and all but ran outside.

My friend wanted to kill Work Guy. He spent the next 45 minutes explaining all the people he knows who could be there in a flash to give the guy what he needed, a severe beating. I felt pathetic. I could no longer be buddy buddy with Serial Killer any more without him getting the wrong idea. I would return to work on Monday knowing no one likes me, but everyone pretends to like Work Guy's slimy charms.

What should have been a short evening followed by going home to read a book and fall asleep alone turned into much more drinking with one left over work mate who ranted about his ex, Work Girl. My friend took me home and insisted on talking about why I felt so dejected. I ended up sobbing. Today I have a headache and yet to pick up my car.

I learned two very important things:

1) I am completely over Work Guy
Any residual feelings of love I felt vanished. I miss having a relationship and the happy times associated with that, but Work Guy was, and will always be, a douche bag. Being hurt as deeply as I have been was my own fault for believing he had any redeeming qualities and that he could in any way be sincere about anything that wasn't potentially self serving.

2) I should never go to work happy hours with this company again
I shit where I ate and it is far past time to find a new venue.