We sort of dismissed Glamour "Man Needs Date" blogger, Mike "Edgy English Teacher" Cherico, early in his tenure as the type of jackass whose jackassiness was unworthy of analysis. It was too typical, too garden-variety L.A., lacking in that certain pathological je ne sais quoi that makes the Paul Jankas of this world so endlessly bloggable. Well. Color us OMG so wrong. Mike Cherico has been seeing a girl he calls "Miss Smarty Shoes." He even let her take over his blog one day, during which she...well you know, was about 1000x more insightful than he had ever been, obviously. (What's she doing with this guy? She lives in LA. I've been there.) Anyway. So...Mike and MSS made plans to see a concert. Then he freaked out that a cut on her lip was an indication she had herpes, decided to use the concert as an opportunity to paw the ass of another anonymous girl, then blog about it all the next day with a plea to concert girl to get in touch with him. It gets much worse, according to Miss Smarty Shoes' account, which has since been removed from her blog, but which we of course, preserved for posterity. Turns out Mike is something like a thirty year old male Lohan! Only, you know, he teaches kids. Fun parts bolded!
What a Fucking Idiot.
Posted in Uncategorized on March 7, 2008 by laspinner
NOTE: Today's post is brutally honest and has strictly adult content. If you wanted an unflitered account of what it's like to date Mike Cherico, here goes.....
Yesterday I received the following email from Mike:
quick heads up... I LIKE YOU... A LOT! so please please please don't be mad about tomorrows [sic] post!
(Having just read his post, what he should have emailed me was something more along the lines of "I'm going to humiliate you on my blog tomorrow, hope that's ok!!!")
Earlier: Don't Date This Man
But here's what happened yesterday. I called him a couple hours after receiving the email and he immediately backtracked, saying "I was probably drunk when I wrote that." (Keep in mind he sent it at 3:30pm.) After 10 minutes of me trying to explain why that was not acceptable and that if he likes me as much as he says he does he needs to tell me things himself, not through his blog, he finally explained that when he came over for dinner last week, I had a cut on my lip that freaked him out. He was really upset that I hadn't told him what it was and instead let him wonder if it might, in fact, be herpes. I wish I was joking. Keep in mind that, when Mike showed up at my apartment for dinner and I had just gotten home at 9pm from a long day of work carrying the groceries I'd bought for our meal, he asked me if he could watch TV while I cooked. Again, not joking. After dinner, we were being snuggly and talking about sexual issues- more on that later- when he blurted out "I already had sex twice today" implying that my affections were unnecessary. (My reaction was similar to what yours might be if an alien landed on your computer while you were reading this.) The evening ended shortly thereafter for obvious reasons but not before Mike told me that the chick he'd had sex with earlier was "really hot" (insinuating that she was irresistible, unlike me) and then, again, backtracked to say that he'd made it up.
[NOTE: Because I got so angry, apparantly Mike or his editors changed that part in today's post so that it didn't refer to me specifically. Whatever. I'm telling you it was me b/c I have nothing to hide, the whole thing is pathetic, I do NOT have herpes, and Mike is an idiot for thinking so. And then he says shame on ME for putting HIM in that position? Mike, you are VILE.]
So what was actually going on was not that Mike had fucked someone else, but that he thought I had herpes, and wanted an excuse to leave . Thank god for the old "I already had sex twice today" standby. I am going to devote exactly one sentence to an explanation of the cut because it's SO not the point, but basically I had accidentally bitten my lip the day before and had a very small scab. Perhaps not sexy, and if he'd asked me about it and said it made him feel weird about kissing me I would have completely understood. But by no means was it contagious or a symptom of any greater health problem. Mike, for a graphic pic of what oral herpes actually looks like, see here. You might need it for future reference.
I don't think i need to waste space describing how distasteful and declasse I think it is for Mike to write about that in his blog rather than discussing it with me in person. I consider that an attempt to humiliate me in public for his own benefit. If he had been honest about his concern and allowed me to explain, I probably would have been ok with him bringing it up in the blog because in any physical relationship there are issues of trust, and I certainly understand not knowing how to broach that kind of topic. But instead he defended himself that he shouldn't have to bring it up because he's "sensitive," and instead made excuses not to be intimate with me over our next two dates. (Apparantly, an alternate definition of "sensitive" is "idiotic.") He then apparantly decided that he would write about it in today's post because that was MORE courteous than saying it to my face, which even he could barely say without choking on the bullshit. When I told him I found that disrespectful and that by writing such a description of me he was basically painting me as some kind of disease-ridden whore he responded that it's not like my name is on there and anyway, "I don't owe you anything." The whole thing was so juvenile and devoid of the mutual respect and trust that adult relationships are founded on that I was completely dumbfounded. Seriously, you couldn't ask me about a cut on my lip so you stew about it for a week and then embarrass me on your blog? THANKS, SWEETIE, XOXOX Miss Smarty Shoes. I have seen David Bowie movies where the world is more realistic than the one Mike lives in. He continued to seeth that there was something wrong with me for putting him in that situation, that it was clearly my responsibility to address the cut and not doing so was obviously a premeditated decision on my part to confuse and upset him. Right. Because that makes sense. Is this the kind of guy who's going to tell you you're beautiful when you're pregnant or stressed or gain five pounds or have a stuffy nose? If I really DID get sick, would I be able to turn to him for help? If he can't bring up something minor like this, could we ever have an honest conversation about REAL issues? Those are rhetorical questions.
(Please don't misinterpret my position on being honest with a sexual partner. If I had indeed had something contagious or in any way harmful, it absolutely would have been my responsibility to disclose it to Mike before being physically intimate, whether it was visually evident or not. The fact that it WAS so obvious makes me wonder how he could possibly have thought I was trying to hide it.)
I honestly didn't bring it up because I had forgotten about it. To me it was obviously a cut, and a very small one, and if the thought had ever crossed my mind that it might appear otherwise to Mike I would have pointed it out immediately. I also had a zit on my forehead and a bruise on my knee from where Gretel jumped on me, should I have pointed those out, too? Given him a tour of my body's imperfections? Is it my fault that he is RETARDED?
What makes this incident meaningful beyond its absurdity is that even when I tried to briefly explain tonight to Mike that it was a small cut, he became angry again and yelled that he barely knows me and how can he possibly trust me. No matter what I said, he was still going to worry that I was lying and that I had a disease.
So the rest of this piece is about trust and Mike Cherico.
Mike is a recreational liar. It's possible he is in fact a compulsive or pathalogical liar but I honestly don't know him well enough and I'm not going to diagnose him. He lies so naturally that he loses track of the truth. For him, if a lie is easier to say then it becomes reality (ie; when he told me he'd had sex that day rather than bringing up what was actually bothering him.)
Below are some more anecdotes about my experiences with Mike, trust and truth:
* Let's start with the "amazing woman" Mike was apparantly holding hands with at the concert that I took him too (and paid for.) If it gives you some idea of his taste in women, she was a skanky, fake-boobed bimbo wearing a slutty outfit and Uggs from 2004 who looked like she'd just come off of ROCK OF LOVE 2. If someone in this story has herpes, it was that girl. She was giving me nasty looks the whole show and I asked Mike if he'd noticed- of course not. Bear in mind that while Mike was, I now realize, holding hands with this tramp, he was also stroking my hair, kissing the top of my head, etc. I am literally at a loss for how to articulate what a disgusting person he is. Mike, I am a beautiful woman, and how dare you try to make me feel like anything less.
* Mike called our date at the Rustic short last week because he "had to go make a drug deal."
* The brilliant thing about Mike's worrying about my having a disease is that the first night we met we had unprotected sex. It's literally the only time I have not used a condom with someone who wasn't a boyfriend (I am on birth control) and I am furious with myself for letting it happen. Suffice it to say that, given our respective lifestyles, if we took a poll of who was more likely to have an STD, me or Mike, I'd feel pretty confident about my odds. Concert Girl might screw up the race Nader-style, tho!
* The first night I went out with Mike a woman called repeatedly and he asked me to answer the phone, which I did, saying "Mike's office." I thought it was some past fling booty-calling him. Turns out it was his ex-girlfriend of a year who he had been talking to earlier and who was calling him distraught about their conversation. Had I known this was a person who he had had an actual relationship with I would NEVER have gotten involved. So that's how Mike treats people he ostensibly used to love. He also put me on mute once so I could listen to her talking to him about how much she missed him. She thought they were having a private conversation, but Mike was in fact egging her on for my benefit to show me how "crazy" she was. If she's reading this, please please do not think Mike will ever treat you the way you deserve to be treated because he is just not a good man. He once told me you're not good at your job and just get by on your looks. You deserve so much better and he doesn't have it in him.
* Most of the times I have made plans with Mike he doesn't follow through, doesn't call to explain, and then lies about it later. I didn't invite him to my birthday party for exactly that reason, but he found out about it and made a huge deal of the fact that he wasn't invited, so I invited him, then of course he didn't show up. The next morning he texted me to ask if i wanted to get lunch. I presumed he was trying to make up for the previous night and agreed. Two hours later I hadn't heard from him and called his cell. Turns out he was out to breakfast with another woman but told me to "meet him at the Rustic in a couple hours." Romantic. (I imagine most readers are wondering why I continued to make plans with him despite this shit and I promise I'm going to address that at the end of this piece so please bear with me.) While in the shower, I missed his call. An hour and multiple calls later he told me he'd come by but since I didn't pick up my phone he had fallen asleep, in his car. So I texted him to go fuck himself, that he was the stupidest man I'd ever dated, and that I was going to the rustic by myself. He immediately called me and said he was on his way to meet me at the Inn.
* It gets creepier. As he was on his way to meet me, he called me and said he'd been wanting to talk to me for awhile about how I really feel about him because he likes me a lot. I was very guarded in my response and told him we could discuss it in person. He said he really wanted to talk now and that he couldn't believe I really liked him for x, y and z reasons. When it became clear I was not going to give a substantive response he started laughing maniacally and said "I'm just kidding."
* It still gets creepier. When I later told him that was an extremely disrespectful thing to do and asked why, he told me that the woman from breakfast was still in the car with him, that she'd asked him why so many girls like him and he'd put me on speakerphone before calling so she could listen to my response. So basically he tried to lure me into an emotional confession only for the amusement of another girl. Keep in mind this was after he'd said he had fallen asleep and missed my calls, which was clearly a lie since he was still with this other woman.
Those select tales say nothing of the thousands of little lies Mike tells as part of regular conversation. It's virtually impossible to know what to believe. He also clearly uses lying/"kidding" as a way to back out of things he wishes he hadn't disclosed. He will say something and if you don't react the way he wanted he'll start laughing and exclaim "I was just kidding!" like a child.
He also got really jealous of my other dates and clearly couldn't handle being on the other side of that treatment. Pretty hilarious.
One more X-rated Mike story just because I've been dying to share it (I don't recommend reading this paragaph if you're sensitive.) He is, like he's said in the blog, truly terrible in bed. He basically just lies there and lets the girl do all the work. I thought it was just a first time thing but the morning after we slept together, we had sex again, and I went down on him and let him finish in in my mouth. I was literally sitting there with the taste of him still in my throat when he stood up to take a shower. He had now had two orgasms to my zero, so I asked if he might orally reciprocate. He, with no hesitation or hint of sarcasm, proclaimed "I don't know you that well!" and turned on the faucet. Frankly, it's a pretty obvious metaphor for his selfishness and laziness in relationships and how his pleasure is his only concern. But anyone who can say anything that rude without flinching is clearly playing his own game.
And now a little on me.
Lest you think me a vindictive harlot, I told Mike I was going to write this and he said he didn't care.... an obvious lie but one he insisted upon. I'm not trying to get back at him for his piece today, because his life is no longer my concern and I hope I'm lucky enough never to see him again, but even when I asked him if he wanted me to take it easy on him he said it didn't matter, he didn't care, nothing matters, do whatever I want. Even in something which I do believe he values, his blog, he still couldn't stop with the deceitful, "it's your problem not mine you stupid bitch" act and ask me, human to human, to keep these things private. So I thought it was time he came to terms with the fact that the things you say become the reality you live.
That said, I completely understand that all of you reading this must not think very much of me for dating someone like this, so here is my attempt to explain why I continued to see Mike.
For starters, I regret it more than I can say. As I reread what I wrote above I am viciously angry with myself for letting someone of such low moral fiber ever treat me this way. He is hands down the most bizarre, mean, selfish and delusional person I've ever met. (Not to mention that he's not very smart, and even though my post today is hardly Hemingway I think you'll agree with me that I can write circles around this guy. Frankly, he's just not a very good writer.) His behavior is so far off the charts of what is acceptable in normal relationships it needs transalation, like "Well in Mike's world this is what that meant." But that's why people like me are drawn to him, I am embarrassed to say. We think that if we can just understand him, we can help him. We believe with true love and support he will change, and if we can be the woman to do it, that will validate us somehow. It's no accident in my mind that he was in a serious relationship with a shrink.
Mike lies so often that it doesn't occur to him that other people are honest. He claims not to trust me and doesn't know if he can believe my preposterous lip-biting story because clearly I am trying to dupe him into herpes. The paranoid paradigm in which he lives is a very lonely place.
Last night I trusted Mike to drive me home. Despite my protests, he took out a bottle of liquor and chugged it while driving. On the freeway. I found out later that he was a lot drunker than I realized when we left the concert. I don't think I will ever forgive myself for being in such a dangerous situation with someone with such little respect for others.
It really pains me to have typed all this out because listed in this format I really can't justify to myself why I kept seeing him. There were definitely substantial moments where he dropped the act and what's underneath was very appealing, but it's so obvious in reading this that he's a terrible person and no other qualities, no matter how positive, could make up for the above. By comparison, I think I try really hard to see the good in people. Because I saw something special in Mike beneath the crap I thought I could bring it out. Because I have flaws and suffer from destructive impulses I thought he deserved forgiveness and understanding. I don't feel that way any more. I have too much respect for people to ever treat them the way Mike does, whether they're a boyfriend, co-worker, family member or stranger on the street.
And I will state for the record that I don't think any of this has to do with his blog. These patterns are too ingrained to be recent occurrences. He uses the writing as an excuse to be cruel and the serial dating as an excuse not to change. Like I've said before, I think the lying and destructive behavior are an elaborate defense system Mike has erected to keep himself from getting attached to anyone where he might risk getting hurt. He is inconsistent in his versions of the truth and then aggressive in blaming the other person for requesting clarification. He's so enmeshed in his own crap I don't think he could be self-aware if he tried. He changes the subject constantly to avoid being caught in his fake stories. It's so impossible for him to take responsibility for anything he has done wrong that he lies even to himself. Frankly, I think the reflection in the mirror is just too painful.