The Girlfriend Chronicles:Me Vs. Dana White

You so hot girl, they all lookin’! Everybody except your guy, that is, cos he can’t tear away his eyes from the TV. No, the 2-hour pampering and primping isn’t a waste; it’s just sorry fate that there’s a UFC fight on Balls TV today of all days.

 My nerdy elitist ass wasn’t prepared for the part UFC will play in a meaningful relationship. Where’s my quiet Sundays reading books together on a park bench? Where are the coffee shop nights where we dissect Thoreau and Nietzsche? Who the eff is Dana White? 

If I knew being bald and muscular with an affinity to wear one’s underwear with a belt will get this much of his attention, I wouldn’t have spent all that time and money making the Revlon saleslady over at Watson’s very happy. 

The first time it created conflict between us was when I was itching to go out and try a new restaurant but received a less than enthusiastic reply to the tune of, “Will I get back in time to watch UFC?” 

Of course, I took this to mean, “I prefer watching men naked but for their undergarments rub and touch each other violently and witnessing a broken arm, leg or, better yet, first blood instead of spending time with you.” 

Add PMS to the mix and you get one ape-shit-crazy-mad girlfriend. 

I was far from adorable that day, and I unwittingly broke a cardinal rule for men: giving them time and space to do their own thing. 

I have to give credit to the man for not expecting me to like what he likes; he allows me space and time to do my own thing. So, if I couldn’t beat it, and couldn’t join it, then let’s go Obama on it and talk compromise and protocol.  The result then is the laying down of basic rules for Dates with Dana White and His Unholy F*ck*n Crew. 

Rule Number 1 : At least one week prior notice through verbal and written communication if he would be unavailable due to UFC fever.

Rule Number 2: I will refrain from communicating with him during the fights (it’s a losing battle), but would require a text or a call if he’s done with his Testosterone Fix.

Rule Number 3: If I was in a good mood and he feels like company, he could watch UFC at my house, but don’t expect cuddling.

I can be a total Mary Poppins sometimes, with unrealistic views about how couples should spend time together. Totalitarian as it is, the abovementioned rules have helped us navigate the testy waters of our brain-vs-brawn interests as a couple, at least where Dana “Baldy” White is concerned. 

Are there other issues, aside from UFC?

Oh, boy, are there.