The Curious Case of the Chicken Farmer

The Curious Case of the Chicken Farmer

Some of these stories on this site are about things I did to either unfuck a currently fucked up situation, or things I did to fuck up a previously fuck free one, covering myself in various degrees of glory* in the process.

This story, however, utterly defies definition, as I am still not totally sure what exactly went on here. The "Farmer" in question is not a real farmer, because he has little to no actual agricultural knowledge (and let's be honest, I left the south for a reason and I would not be super jazzed to snuggle up to another flannel clad John Deere riding hillbilly), he just lives on a nice little piece of nowhere in the ass end of Maryland, and has something like 4 or 5 chickens, and like 3 goats running around. It is also barely important to this story that he keeps goats and chickens, except that it's weird, and arguably a red flag (for me: see parenthetical above), and makes a fun epithet.

Anyways, let's get into it and see if anyone can figure out what the hell:

*Which phrase I have gleefully stolen from my friend Patrick

The farmer in the dell

So there I was, minding my own business, at a happy hour the sole point of which was to meet new people and welcome visitors from out of town or other strangers into our group, while eating tater tots and other cheese encrusted items. This was back when Westworld season one was busily blowing minds, so our conversation eventually turned to our various theories regarding the maze and the man in black and the nature of being and consciousness. As you do.

Two of the passengers on our welcome wagon are a very sweet couple that had just moved to town, both eagerly engaged in this nerdfest. They offer up their apartment for a finale watching party, and we enthusiastically accept. As we are all re-bundling ourselves to venture out into the cold, such that it is, and finalizing watch party details, Farmer Eggplant blows into the bar, passes out a round of hugs, and jumps into the conversation whilst unwinding his scarf.

I'd seen this dude around at various parties and things, so I knew he was part of our crowd, but never really cared to pay any attention to him previously. He is laser focused on me, however. I foolishly misinterpret as actual interest in this show, which I later learned he had never watched, but 100% pretended to be into in order to talk to me. He claims to have seen "only a couple" and I evangelize about how excellent the upcoming episodes are about to be and how complexly and richly they consider what it means to have intelligence, agency, and opportunity, in some sort of splashy pretentious English major way, as is my wont. He looks at me, mildly dazzled, and says something to the tune of "Any show that can earn such passionate praise from such a clearly brilliant woman is a show I need to know all about*" which is honestly the perfect type of thing to say to me to make me take a second look at him.  He claims he will catch his ass up and then appear at the watch party, to which I am mostly, whatever. 

* Definitely not a direct quote

The farmer in the cab

Day of the finale arrives, and I am v. excited about it, but confirmation of party activities have been spotty. I turn up at New Friends' apartment and find that I am the only one of the 5 people who'd originally been in on this thing to come through. I find this awkward, but I'm like, ok whatevs I can hang. At about T-15 minutes to showtime, I get a text from a friend of mine who also knows Farmer Eggplant. She writes "are you watching Westworld with The Farmer by any chance?" and I reply "He was on the invite, but I guess he aint coming because it's about to start and I'm the only one here". I later learn that Farmer is sitting next to my friend at the time of texting, and he immediately jumps in an Uber and messages the group he's on his way, and arrives, no lie, 45 seconds before the show starts. Which is lucky for him, because I would have been HIGHLY cheesed off if he had interrupted the narrative flow.

The show is goddamn glorious, and we hang out at New Friends' apt for about one beer and then politely make our ways to the exit. While I am waiting for my Lyft, Farmer Eggplant confesses that he hadn't watched the shows at all before that day at happy hour, and was really only at the watch party to talk to me, having franticly binged a bunch of them the day before. That is a shit ton of effort to pour into a person you don't know. Meanwhile I am constantly confronting yahoos who can't even be bothered to return texts and it is fucking refreshing to encounter someone who is willing to actually TRY to be around me. So when he asks me to go to dinner with him I agree.

Heigh-ho the Derry-O you have got to be kidding me

I am honestly expecting this date to crash and burn, but I have a surprisingly pleasant time with Farmer Eggplant. He is able to hold up his end of thoughtful conversation, and I'm enjoying sparring with him on ideas and trying to convince him that his way is wrong and my way is right. I attempt to lure him to my lair to assess additional compatibilities, but he demurs. He had to go home and see about the goats, who were otherwise sure to spend the evening out on the roof or some other dumb goat shit (sidebar: goats are THE WORST, more on my goat vendetta another time), and he didn't want them to freeze and/or fall off the roof to their stupid idiot deaths. Which is annoying, but fair.

However we DO end up at my house the next time. As we are hanging coats he again mumbles something about not being able to spend the night, because barnyard animals, but mostly he busies his mouth in other ways and I am content to ignore it.

We are smooching it up and sortof tumble onto the bed. As you do. It becomes rapidly apparent that our preferences seem to be magically and perfectly aligning. Everything he is trying, tentatively at first, I am utterly here for. I am feeling enthusiastic about the direction this thing is going, and I believe I am unbuttoning his shirt when he says to me,

"so how do you feel about monogamy"

The button slips from my fingers and I sit up, disbelief and a thin filament of fear somewhat wilting my lady boner.

"you mean, like, in general?"

At this point I am pretty sure he's getting at something more than a philosophical discussion of human behavior, and in fact has a particular pair of potentially monogamous persons in mind, but I am utterly unprepared to engage with that conversation, this being our second date, and so I willfully ignore it. Instead I simply say:

"In general I am pro. Once things get to that level"

Let's take a small break from the action to stipulate, I am personally a monogamy girl. I know many couples who manage non-monogamy well, but it seems like an enormously outsized pain in the ass, and would also be super challenging to manage alongside my various complexes and insecurities, and so is just in general not for me. But I am also a modern lady and I am damn sure going to be hedging the fuck out of my bets and continuing to see other people until I am prepared to offer commitment to a partner. Obviously.

Also: this is also an extraordinarily strange time to discuss something that costs so much emotional currency. Like, don't you think we could've slid that into the conversation somewhere between  ranking of the best types of accents and discussing to what degree we are responsible for the way our words and actions affect the people around us? Really? Now was the best time for this?  Christ.

Anyways. he doesn't immediately respond, so I am thinking I have dodged an awkward bullet until he lays on me the following:

"The thing is, I get jealous.

Oh no.

"...Imagining you running around with a bunch of other dudes would just....It's one of my worst qualities...

Don't say it

", I really can't do sex without monogamy.


", do you want to be my girlfriend?"

I'm sorry, what?

The cheese stands alone

I am forced to give the only possible response, which is

"I don't know, we've only been on two dates."

This naturally brings things to a halt, as he says he is unwilling to get down with no commitment. I am all 'you do you,' but also feel I must inform him I can't date him with no sex, cause that'll just feel more like friendship. I further posit that we are clearly sexually compatible, if foreplay is any measure, and it would be a shame to waste that. Why don't we just go ahead and smash, and see where things go, in re the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing (like normal goddamn adults). He is unconvinced. So we sortof lay there a bit, as I wonder what even is this life.

And yet.

Soon he is kissing me again.

He is coiling his fingers in my hair. He is unbuttoning my jeans. He is slowly,  methodically, advancing on all the fronts into which he had forayed just moments before all that monogamy business.

Some amount of minutes go by - let's say ten - and I find myself nearly naked, underneath him, naturally thinking that he has changed his mind and is ready to get down, even though he himself was still fully clothed. He unseals his mouth from me and huskily growls into my ear

"So how bout that monogamy"

I throw him over onto his back and say, "So how bout you just fuck me" and like, a buncha other filthy shit that I'm not gonna cop to here, and continue attempting to undress him.

Again, some time passes. Things escalate slowly, but steadily, such that eventually I am bare ass naked on my bed, super duper ready to go. Farmer Eggplant is down to his boxers and I am getting all grabby tryna get that D.

Suddenly he sits up, takes all his hands off me and says

"So do you want to be my girlfriend"

I can't fucking believe this shit, and I kindof scream/whine back at him



He is like, guess we can't do this then, and jumps off me. I am LITERALLY begging this dude to fuck me and he just keeps declining to do it and asking me to be his girlfriend.

I admit, I considered just saying sure, bring it, I'll be your girlfriend, now let's get it on.

But that would have been fucked up.

So instead, finally resolved to this probably not happening, I say to him

"Look. I don't know you enough to commit to this, and if I even gave you a yes under these circumstances, would you really even accept it?

He sortof sheepishly said that no, he wouldn't, in a way that suggested he 10/10 definitely would have.

Then he proceeded to put all his clothes back on and fucks off back to tend to the goats and the chickens. He did say he couldn't stay over, after all.

The cheese is confused

What the shit was that?

I mean, ultimately, this is clearly a case of me blessedly avoiding getting involved with a person who appears to be both highly manipulative and also possibly highly controlling and distrustful.

And hey, silver-linings-wise, it was indisputably a new and unique experience to have a dude attempt to extort a commitment from me by skillful seduction and withholding of the booty. So I guess there's that.

But just.




Expert Exes  (and some Dumb Dummies who Really Wiffed it)

Expert Exes (and some Dumb Dummies who Really Wiffed it)