1. I’m an Ego Crusher
If you like to be right but usually aren’t, your ego will not last long around me. Especially since I’m so good at being wrong. Its important that we both kind of suck.
During a trivial spat with a guy, one of his responses included, “Maybe you should eat more carrots because you heard me wrong—that’s not even what I said.”
Silence. A grin began to creep up my left cheek, and if you ever see this—you’re done.
Me: “Wait, what do you mean? Like, I should eat more carrots because carrots improve hearing? You meant eye sight, right?”
Dude: “No, carrots are for you ears.”
I typed: “carrots are good for your…” and Google finished with “Eyes”. Discussion over. The lesson here was not: Don’t Question Tareen—because I’m wrong all the time but am very okay with it. The lesson was apparently: Question Her in Secrecy and Go Home and Research (then maybe return back with anecdotal proof of your triumphant logic). This never happened.
I found this out because I once used the dude’s laptop and the side search bar pulled up previous searches—half of them were related to conversations he and I had.
Search: Are green onions and chives the same thing?
Search: Do girls actually poop?
Search: Does craving chocolate mean you could be dehydrated?
2. No Really, I’m an Ego Crusher
People in general like to be right, no sin here. But what if you are both convinced, without a smidge of doubt, that this debate is your victory?
Preface: Because we both thought we were hot shit, neither this guy nor I would ever admit to having been smitten over the other prior to the relationship. Mind you, we are already in a full on relationship at this point. We were once discussing how we hate searching and adding people on Facebook.
So I said, “Aww, but you took the time to add me.”
Dude: “Hell nah, you added me.” (RE: Hell Nah, I was obviously dating a drug lord)
Me: “I know for sure you added me”
LET ME SPARE YOU THE DETAILS OF THIS NONSENSE that could not be reconciled. This grossly irrelevant argument escalated over the span of weeks because Facebook is so omnipresent. Our egos and dignity started to ride on this debate.
I knew I was right. He “knew” he was right. I decided to succumb to desperate tactics. Fortunately, I have friends who work at Facebook. I had this super kind person – to whom I now owe a favor to—help me settle this petty debate.
Let me also spare you the suspense: duh, he added me. I felt like a total skeezeball but it was sadly worth it.
3. I Love Your Dad
And when I’m not too busy crushing egos, I like to repeatedly confess my unyielding lust for a male figure in the guy’s life. “Uh-what,” you say? It goes something like this…
“You look really good in that plaid shirt but honestly, nothing compares to how your dad rocks a suit and tie.”
“Are we talking on the phone tonight? No? Fine, I’ll just call up your hot brother then”
Text: Watcha doin?
My reply: Your daddy, in the back seat of a caddy. Don’t be jealous, you bratty.
In the off chance that these jokes would be funny the first time, they were definitely not received well the second or fourteenth time. And of course, the stupid jokes were only plausible up until I would meet the dad or brother. Then the gig was up. Your dad is such a good man! Not freaky at all.
4. I Will Make You Fat
Other than tormenting, I also enjoy cooking. I bet you guys love it when women cook for you. Fancy tacos, seafood stuffed shells, Thai curry, bragging here, chili, and more bragging. Basically anything I like to eat, I make. But guess what homies? I got you fat. All this time you thought I was so precious.
By the end of our relationship, they were always less in shape than when they had met me—and they had not stopped working out or anything. I win you over with your stomach and you lose me over your stomach. Commence maniacal laugh!
5. You Can’t Use My Moves Against Me
Sequel to story above: Guys love sandwiches. One guy kind of got the roles confused and liked to make me sandwiches. It was pretty cool. Not to worry though, I set him straight.
His sandwiches were simple: toasted bread, condiments, lettuce, deli meat, cheese—you get it. I once offered to make him one and when I handed it to him, he was PISSED. This beauty was a triple decker with pesto, two types of cheese, pan seared meat, and thinly sliced tomatoes. He didn’t even know he had those things in his fridge. I just laughed. Don’t try to play my game, buffoons. Cooking is all I can offer. If you cook better than me, we are not happening.
Note: A simple google search will bring you to this blog. I figured this was the perfect post for the peak of my twenties, also known as: Indian Bio-Data season.