It's the mid-90's, I'm an undergraduate and there is a student photography exhibition hanging in the university library. "Go see them", my slightly awkward acquaintance who I was trying to date says, "Some of the pictures on display are shots I took." I go see the photographs; some are good, some are not so good. They aren't labeled with the actual names of the photographers, they're numbered and I'm in a hurry or otherwise can't be bothered to look at the corresponding list of names.

My non-date runs into me days later and asks me what I thought of the photographs. She's an Art Person, whose father is a Big Important Art Critic for the Big Important Magazine to boot, so I had better say something cool, right? I go "Oh, most of them were pretty good. I didn't like the ones that were taken in India, though, too much of that generic smiling kids in front of the camera stuff and scenes of village life" &c &c in that vein.

She didn't even bother to look wounded when she told me that the India pictures were hers.

You should have pulled a David Niven: looked directly in her eyes, take a pull off your drink, reply, "I didn't say it."

fancyjamtime wrote:From the "dick moves I performed more than 20 years ago" file...

I broke up with a girl that I had been seeing for about 8 months. She mentioned that she had been feeling the same way. I was 19 and didn't get the "putting on a brave face" act.

A week later I hooked up with a young devotchka at a party that my ex was attending. I was caught lacking protection and asked the ex for a rubber. She looked at me wounded and said that she didn't have one. I reminded her that she usually kept spares in the key compartment of her purse and even reached in and pulled one out.

While I was enjoying myself in a back bedroom, the ex had a meltdown in front of the entire party, relating the story, drunkenly declaring her love and calling me a heartless prick.

Incident still makes me cringe... And, yeah, I know better now.

wow. that is indeed a dick move.

i really don't think i've ever done anything like that, i mean, i'm just not a dick, never have been. am i missing out on something?

i am, however, boring.

When I was in college, this one married 40-year-old woman kept hitting on me nonstop. At first I thought it was flirting, but when the psycho cards started appearing on my windshield and she always seemed to be hanging around in the hallway after my classes let out, not to mention her many attempts to infiltrate my circle of friends, I knew what I had to do.

One morning, I left a full three-pronged thesis on her windshield explaining that I found no attraction in her whatsoever, what the hell was she thinking when she though she had a shot, and that she needed to quit being psycho, get her life together, and not to come within a 50' radius of me, communicate with me, or even glance at me. That afternoon, I spotted her moping in a nook with some friends that got her a cookie cake. The dick part was that I never felt such schadenfreude over breaking someone's heart.

She got her revenge, though. That Friday, I was in a student lounge, 10 minutes away from getting up the nerve to ask out this girl I had a crush on. Lo and behold, I order my drink, turn around, and here comes Nancy McBeef swooping in to tell this girl how I lead women on only to break their heart later. (Yeah, well, at least I don't marry them and then cheat on them.)

Oh well. A couple months later, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 9 years now, and last I heard, Psycho McBeef is divorced, 50, and rough-looking with a grown son living at home. The schadenfreude hasn't gone away. I am such an asshole!

FuzzBob wrote:When I was in college, this one married 40-year-old woman kept hitting on me nonstop. At first I thought it was flirting, but when the psycho cards started appearing on my windshield and she always seemed to be hanging around in the hallway after my classes let out, not to mention her many attempts to infiltrate my circle of friends, I knew what I had to do.

One morning, I left a full three-pronged thesis on her windshield explaining that I found no attraction in her whatsoever, what the hell was she thinking when she though she had a shot, and that she needed to quit being psycho, get her life together, and not to come within a 50' radius of me, communicate with me, or even glance at me. That afternoon, I spotted her moping in a nook with some friends that got her a cookie cake. The dick part was that I never felt such schadenfreude over breaking someone's heart.

She got her revenge, though. That Friday, I was in a student lounge, 10 minutes away from getting up the nerve to ask out this girl I had a crush on. Lo and behold, I order my drink, turn around, and here comes Nancy McBeef swooping in to tell this girl how I lead women on only to break their heart later. (Yeah, well, at least I don't marry them and then cheat on them.)

Oh well. A couple months later, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 9 years now, and last I heard, Psycho McBeef is divorced, 50, and rough-looking with a grown son living at home. The schadenfreude hasn't gone away. I am such an asshole!

that's not a dick move.

FuzzBob wrote:When I was in college, this one married 40-year-old woman kept hitting on me nonstop. At first I thought it was flirting, but when the psycho cards started appearing on my windshield and she always seemed to be hanging around in the hallway after my classes let out, not to mention her many attempts to infiltrate my circle of friends, I knew what I had to do.

One morning, I left a full three-pronged thesis on her windshield explaining that I found no attraction in her whatsoever, what the hell was she thinking when she though she had a shot, and that she needed to quit being psycho, get her life together, and not to come within a 50' radius of me, communicate with me, or even glance at me. That afternoon, I spotted her moping in a nook with some friends that got her a cookie cake. The dick part was that I never felt such schadenfreude over breaking someone's heart.

She got her revenge, though. That Friday, I was in a student lounge, 10 minutes away from getting up the nerve to ask out this girl I had a crush on. Lo and behold, I order my drink, turn around, and here comes Nancy McBeef swooping in to tell this girl how I lead women on only to break their heart later. (Yeah, well, at least I don't marry them and then cheat on them.)

Oh well. A couple months later, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 9 years now, and last I heard, Psycho McBeef is divorced, 50, and rough-looking with a grown son living at home. The schadenfreude hasn't gone away. I am such an asshole!

I'm not sure that qualifies as being a dick. I think it qualifies as survival. You could be married to a 50 year old woman and have a step son your age living at home with you. Your life would be over.

FuzzBob wrote:When I was in college, this one married 40-year-old woman kept hitting on me nonstop. At first I thought it was flirting, but when the psycho cards started appearing on my windshield and she always seemed to be hanging around in the hallway after my classes let out, not to mention her many attempts to infiltrate my circle of friends, I knew what I had to do.

One morning, I left a full three-pronged thesis on her windshield explaining that I found no attraction in her whatsoever, what the hell was she thinking when she though she had a shot, and that she needed to quit being psycho, get her life together, and not to come within a 50' radius of me, communicate with me, or even glance at me. That afternoon, I spotted her moping in a nook with some friends that got her a cookie cake. The dick part was that I never felt such schadenfreude over breaking someone's heart.

She got her revenge, though. That Friday, I was in a student lounge, 10 minutes away from getting up the nerve to ask out this girl I had a crush on. Lo and behold, I order my drink, turn around, and here comes Nancy McBeef swooping in to tell this girl how I lead women on only to break their heart later. (Yeah, well, at least I don't marry them and then cheat on them.)

Oh well. A couple months later, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 9 years now, and last I heard, Psycho McBeef is divorced, 50, and rough-looking with a grown son living at home. The schadenfreude hasn't gone away. I am such an asshole!

Such an asshole? You would have been an asshole if you'd led her on, fucked her and then taken the trouble to place that little missive on her windshield. (And, from the sounds of her, if you'd done that you'd have been dead long ago.) This just shows you have good character judgment. That woman sounds like she was absolutely Grade-A Certified Crackers.

enframed wrote:

FuzzBob wrote:When I was in college, this one married 40-year-old woman kept hitting on me nonstop. At first I thought it was flirting, but when the psycho cards started appearing on my windshield and she always seemed to be hanging around in the hallway after my classes let out, not to mention her many attempts to infiltrate my circle of friends, I knew what I had to do.

One morning, I left a full three-pronged thesis on her windshield explaining that I found no attraction in her whatsoever, what the hell was she thinking when she though she had a shot, and that she needed to quit being psycho, get her life together, and not to come within a 50' radius of me, communicate with me, or even glance at me. That afternoon, I spotted her moping in a nook with some friends that got her a cookie cake. The dick part was that I never felt such schadenfreude over breaking someone's heart.

She got her revenge, though. That Friday, I was in a student lounge, 10 minutes away from getting up the nerve to ask out this girl I had a crush on. Lo and behold, I order my drink, turn around, and here comes Nancy McBeef swooping in to tell this girl how I lead women on only to break their heart later. (Yeah, well, at least I don't marry them and then cheat on them.)

Oh well. A couple months later, I met the love of my life and have been with her for 9 years now, and last I heard, Psycho McBeef is divorced, 50, and rough-looking with a grown son living at home. The schadenfreude hasn't gone away. I am such an asshole!

that's not a dick move.

Not according to about 5 of my classmates at the time, not to mention the girl I was after and a professor of mine who took her side to boot. As far as they were concerned, I was Asshole Of The Year.

Yes, he has!

Some 17 years ago, my band went on a brief (7 day) West Coast tour with a couple of other bands from our city. On the first night the guitarist of one of the other bands asked to borrow my amp for the tour (in fact he might have asked before we left for the trip, I can't remember anymore). No problem. This fellow's band was known locally for putting a rambunctious show, with spazz-outs and gear destruction at the end of the set. At the time I was using a 300w solid state head and a 4x12 cab. I asked, in what I thought was an inoffensive tone, that he and his band take care of the amp, not to push it too hard as it had to serve both of our bands for the rest of the tour.
This apparently pissed him off but I was oblivious.
A few nights later as my band is setting up for soundcheck, the other band's other guitarist takes offence at how I am setting my pedals up, saying something like, "why are they so spread out like that? You should put them closer together and take up less room." I wasn't sure what to make of this remark and thought that maybe he was kidding. I offered the same advice to him (he had just as many, if not more pedals than I) when he was setting up for his band's soundcheck.
Now I had two members of that band pissed at me.
During their set, and I don't remember doing this (no, I wasn't drunk) and had to be reminded years later, they were doing their usual apeshit routine and knocked over a piece of our gear. Apparently I got up on stage while they were still playing and righted the equipment.
Now I had the whole band pissed of at me.
I wasn't trying to be a dick but it must have come off that way. As a result of my efforts, they named a song after me on their CD. ____ ____ Must Die.