Red Flags

If you’ve been keeping up with this blog for a while, you probably have an idea of what kinds of things I write about. For example, I like literature and Savannah and bands. One topic I don’t tend to talk about a lot is relationships. There are two reasons for this: I have far better things to do with my time than date, and I have only one actual relationship from which to draw experience.

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I am now his campaign consultant.

However, I have on several occasions done what I refer to as “not dating dating.” Which means I’ll talk to someone and go out once or twice with them, but nothing more. This happens because, once again, there are far better ways to spend my time (like college), but also because more often than not there’s a red flag. Some of them were extremely simple and straightforward, while some of them were more complex and took me some time to identify beyond the initial instinct that something’s not quite right. I have a penchant for cynicism and dwelling on negativity, so I decided to write about them.

The one who was disrespectful to his mother. It’s one thing to have a less-than-stellar relationship with your mom. I understand that we live in a fallen world and not everyone is as lucky with their parental units as I am. But someone who frequently talks poorly about his mother and is blatantly rude to her face is not someone I am interested in spending my time with. It’s the kind of thing that raises a lot of questions– most importantly, at what point will he treat my mother the same way?

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Never, if he knows what’s good for him.

The one who placed more value on what I was/could be to him than me as an individual. This is one of those that I knew something was wrong pretty quick, but couldn’t define until I’d really dwelled on it. This was a person who said things like “I wish you were different” and could send texts for 30 straight minutes without requiring a response. I know this because I once took a shower while he was texting and by the time I got out he was still going. Eventually I realized that he didn’t care much about me, Rachel Schollaert, he cared about his potential girlfriend and how I would fit into his life. It didn’t matter to him what was going on in mine, and I was (and am) far too busy with other things to make him a part of it.

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Like the quiz bowl dream team.

The one who mentioned his abs one too many times. The first time I could forgive (I met him at a Monty Python show, come on) but the second time was just too much.

The one who was the physical embodiment of carelessness. The first couple instances I chalked up to honest mistakes and figured we could still be friends, but eventually I realized that things were never going to change. That’s the problem with carelessness: It never goes away, because the person in question doesn’t care enough to fix it. I’m not going to offer my time, friendship, or sense of humor to someone who literally would not (and, by the way, has not) notice at all if it was gone.

The one who got kicked off of his speech team for plagiarism. Clearly, we have established that this individual is capable of dishonesty, and I don’t need that noise in my life.

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I was too busy competing with my 100% original material.

I guess the moral of this story is that I have really high standards and you should never date someone who’s rude to their mom.

If you’re interested in the campaign I mentioned previously, Logan Herring is running for city council in Gretna, Nebraska. I promise he is a far less disappointing candidate than any of the buffoons running for president and intel says videos are coming soon to his website.

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