The Date Who Came to Dinner…and Wouldn’t Go the Fuck Home

Welcome back dear long time readers and new followers!

It’s been a while since I’ve posted for numeros reasons. Personal shit that has taken precedence over this and then couple it with the fact I haven’t been on a date in a few months. And it was a doozy…

I’m somewhat inspired to finally write again as the date was too good not to share (and when I say good I of course mean awful) and I’m going on a new date tonight with someone I’m looking forward to. He seems cute, funny, nice and normal….but then again most of them do before you meet them. Unfortunately, there is a wicked heat wave and I’m exhausted with no motivation to even think about prepping for what sloppy mess is going to be presented to this guy. Good think I keep Red Bull on hand in the fridge.

But the good stuff….

So the last date/s I had were a few months ago with a real blue ribbon prize winner. If I wasn’t delirious from the heat I would have written this in story form but I figured a bulleted listing of some red flags will suffice for now. We went out a few times, the last of which I made him dinner at my place on a Saturday evening…only to have him squat at my apartment until Sunday at 6pm. Oh and when I say squat I mean asleep…in my bed…and refusing to get up and or leave. While I did this and that around him in the other room.

You’re probably thinking, “Are you stupid, why didn’t you wake his ass up and kick him out?!” At the time I don’t think I realized how rude I would find it not to mention how I would grow to despise him by nightfall. It all crystallized however, when he said to me (upon waking up) “You know, if we start dating – I’ll sleep here during the week and you’ll come out to my place on weekends. I’ll sleep all day while you go to work.”

Ladies……THIS is what’s out there, I kid you not! For those wondering, he “works for himself” and yes it’s in quotes for a reason.

I like to think of the things that we store in the back of our brains to use at a later time as pink flags.Not quite deal-breakers on their own, but when combined or viewed in hindsight – shine like beacons in the night to wake you up from your sex coma and make you realize what a loser you have on your hands.

Pink flag statements:

- Why would I ask about your family? I don’t care about your family, I’m not dating them

- I hate my dad, I’ve thought about killing him for the money

- It tuns me on to see how many people have visited my profile, let’s go online to my page and look. Do you want to see who is writing me and sending me dirty pictures?

- If we date, I would come over and sleep during the day while you work  (good enough to mention twice)

- I don’t ever watch the news…or read the newspaper it doesn’t impact me

Oh for those playing the home game…..I just realized THIS is Mr. Hearts and Flowers. Figures!

It’s Not me….It’s You

 

 

 

More stories coming soon….hold your horses will ya
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I Just Threw Up a Little

0104stiflerI get allllll kinds of creeps and pervs interested in me. Some of them send nice notes. Others think that we were destined to be together, if I would only realize it.  Sometimes I read the messages, sometimes I’ll even check out their profile and I’m almost never shocked or surprised. Hell, occasionally I’m even flattered.

Until today….

you look absolutely amazing, i know you prob thinking oh this guy is too young, but i was wondering how it would be to spend some time with a person like you :O

I get messages like this fairly regularly and the men are normally in their mid to late 20’s, which is bad enough. So I clicked on his profile…

He’s 19!

An no, it wasn’t Justin Bieber.

A shiver went down my spine as a wave of nausea filled my gut. Did this kid’s mother not give him enough love or what?!

Gross.

Mr. Hearts and Flowers

Been while since I’ve posted because quite frankly, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a legit date. Which brings me to Mr. Hearts and Flowers.

One of those guys that looks great on paper, a sure sign that doom is impending. We exchanged a few messages and then texts and seemed to “hit it off” as much as one can in the cyber world. Since I know nothing means anything until you meet, I simply had hopeful expectations… but not really.

He, on the other hand, started to gush. Immediate red flag in my book. I just kept thinking about Still Married Guy and how he had invited me to Tahoe on vacation before we had ever met. Yeah, we see how well that worked out!

It started innocently where he said he was really excited to meet, he doesn’t usually click so well so fast, how he wants a relationship etc etc etc.

Then he closed his text with emoticons…..of hearts and flowers. 🌺🌻🌸🌹🌷❤💗💛❤💙💜💚😘😘

Oh no you di’int!

I took the approach of pretending it never happened. He says he’s the ultimate romantic. Whereas I am the ultimate cynic…rightfully so I may add. Where my friends were gagging from disgust, I figured I’d cut him slack and hope he doesn’t over do it in person.

We met at my favorite neighborhood place where, I cannot lie, I have been on one or two other dates. Underground cave-like lounge, dimly lit with middle eastern fare and relaxing music. For a moment I thought, shit, if I’m not attracted to him this is such a romantic environment I’m screwed. Oh, and this came about because he asked me to pick where we go (pet peeve of mine, but I digress).

I arrived first and ordered a vodka drink, I needed it. By the time he drove into the city and found a parking spot, I was nearly finished and had a decent buzz. He arrives and I’m pleasantly surprised to see he is much cuter than his photos. And he had a lot of photos. I ask him…

“has anyone ever told that you look like Peter Gallagher?

“Yes. But I get more people that say Chris Noth.

And now ladies and gentlemen, the fun begins. He looks JUST like Chris Noth. And who doesn’t want to go out with him?! !  We’re eating, we’re drinking, we’re having fun. Not until late in the evening does he ask if he can hold my hand and then the seduction began. He wanted to kiss me, I wanted to kiss him and what do you know…my apartment is two blocks away.

Next thing you know, we’re making out, he’s telling me crazy personal stories and it’s Still Married Guy all over again. Well, except no crying, he’s not married and didn’t come out and say “I’m not looking for a relationship.” Actually, he came out and said he is looking for a relationship. But all the girls he meets online only want sex. Pretty funny. I take it all with a grain of salt.

Yadda yadda yadda….he left the next day at noon.

He left me with a lot of information to digest. I need to seriously think about the reality of the types of men available out there. They all have issues….and baggage…and problems….and I inevitably want to fix them all. He seems kind and sweet and I’m very attracted to him. But there are a lot of layers on this onion. If I want to pursue, I’m going to need to roll up my sleeves.

My name is date hater and I’m a fixer. Always have been…probably always will be.

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Duhhh……

duhh

No Action Here Folks….Keep Moving

Damn….I’m an awful blogger. I can barely recall the last time I posted and yet each day I’m so excited to see my new Twitter followers – surely anxiously awaiting my next entry of snarky and amusing dating anecdotes.

Or not.

Dating has been slow. While work has been fast – and exhausting. No excuse, or should I say, more like an excuse a man would give. “I really dig you baby but I’m too busy with my career to be in a relationship.” All a load of crap I know. So I continue to hang out on occasion with Clark Kent. Nice guy but I can confirm without hesitation that I do NOT want to be his girlfriend or in a relationship with him. He’s a nice enough guy – end of story – end of the emotional trail. I’m still looking and have continued to meet a gaggle of fabulously stylish gay men. And although I continue to troll online, have had quite disappointing results and interactions.

I continue to try but often wonder when I’ll find real love again. The good news is that I know who I am, what I want, need and expect from a man and a partner. I see my parents, married for almost 50 years, truly one another’s best friend – then I see my contemporaries who are in one stage or another of divorce when they realize in hindsight that they never really should have married that person….but it was the right time or the thing to do. In the end, that’s just not enough. Not enough for me anyhow. Doesn’t everyone deserve to be happy?

I think so….

I Kid You Not

When I say psychos, criminals and pervs are the only ones who contact me online…

I’m not kidding!

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Happy New Year!

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Always Judge a Book By its Cover

Been on a few dates now with Clark Kent. I haven’t written because I’m not really quite sure what to say. Strange from me, I know.

I don’t have anything bad to say about him. He hasn’t done anything awful or offensive. But something is clearly off or missing that I can’t put my finger on. Putting that aside, we had a very candid conversation about how he is not looking for a relationship, doesn’t have time to commit to someone at the moment and wouldn’t be a good boyfriend to anyone. So….where do you go from there?

I told him, that I was in fact, looking for a relationship, but I appreciated his honesty and wasn’t sure where that left us. Put that together with me being ambivalent and I was okay no matter how this thing pans out. He said he was ideally looking for a friend that he could hang out with, do things with and be sexually attracted to them (which I suppose is code for sleeping with them). Dating with no strings or friends with benefits…no matter what you call it, it’s what a lot of men (I won’t say most) want and it’s bullshit. It’s all the so-called good stuff and none of the committment or obligation. Nice try buddy.

Needless to say, of course I heard from him again days later. Checking in and saying hello, and then ultimately asking if I’d like to go out again. Hmmm…..

“Is this us going on a date or going out as friends?” I asked.

“How about friends going out on a date?!” he lamely offers up.

So what am I supposed to do with that now? Ah, fuck it, I’ll go. I’m not feeling vulnerable like I’ll get hurt because I’m so on the fence anyhow. But I need to at least kiss this guy to see if we have any sexual chemistry since our social chemistry is fair but a bit awkward in my opinion. Perhaps this will tip me over the fence one way or the other.

But here’s the kicker…..he doesn’t drink…..or smoke….or drink coffee….or eat sushi. I mean my entire social existence is based on those things! So I ask – if you go out to dinner on a date,and you don’t drink, and there’s a certain nervous awkwardness and questionable things in common…..what do you do when you’re done eating???

Which was where we wrapped up date number two btw.

I don’t know about him, but I needed to be a little buzzed in this scenario while I test the waters. So outside of me acquiring some kind of date rape drug, how am I supposed to loosen up, loosen him up and see if there is anything lying beneath the surface with Clark Kent? I should note that his texts throughout the week were consistently sexual in nature, despite us barely touching skin beyond a good-bye kiss on the cheek and then peck on the lips. He was giving definitive, wolf in sheep’s clothing vibe and I’ve been down this road before.

The best looking, most charming, sexiest guys (The Pilot, The Greek, Still Married Guy etc.) all had a magical spell over me until we hit the sack. Then their mystical powers vanished and then what I was left with was a selfish or inadequate lover who clearly has never been told by, or asked a woman what actually works and what clearly doesn’t. And I guarantee they all think they’re spectacular in bed.

But I digress…..

The flip side to this coin is that the mild-mannered, somewhat nerdy, non-player, average Joes have always been amazing when it comes to pleasing a woman (namely me) and can’t seem to do enough to make me happy and pleasantly surprised and left with a newfound respect and sense of wonder and delight.

So I just KNEW Clark Kent would be good. I just felt it. He has no vices he’s got to be a sexual deviant or at the very least, damn good in bed.

He asked me to a museum and it was one of those days that I just felt like nesting in. Watching a movie, making dinner and wearing loose clothes or sweats if possible. He happily agreed and I knew I had to get him drunk, or at least tipsy and test these waters….

Since I don’t like to describe my sexual exploits (simply hint to them), I’ll say I made my famous sangria that just about any non-drinker will imbibe with delight. I threw in a pinch of rum, clearly disguised by the sugar and wham! We’re good to go. Home cooked meal, a biz of booze and he’s at my place. I’m no dummy.

Yadda yadda yadda….

We talked and cooked and dinner was fucking delicious if I must say so myself. Peruvian roasted chicken with brown rice, salad and cilantro dressing. Again questioning our chemistry and if we were on the same wave length, I was still stuck on the board and waiting to grab my get out of jail or you’ve won a beauty contest collect $200 to move this thing ahead or back two steps to get out of the holding pattern in my brain.

My so-called plan worked. He eventually leaned in and kissed me and I knew from that moment this was going to be good….And I was right.

So do I like him now? Still not sure. But it’s nice to have options.

Why You Don’t Shit Where You Eat….and other important life lessons

Was on the train early the other morning in my usual half daze. Somehow managed to squeeze myself into a seat and started to slowly enjoy my steaming hot Starbucks Venti. Most mornings I’m so engaged in my morning ritual of AM NY or Metro, the free newspapers given out by homeless men which satisfy my need for a. a small paper to hold while balancing my purse, coffee and whatever crap I’m dragging into the office b. a quick read of the hot news topics and c. my daily horoscope – but today the near comatose speed baristas killed a solid 10 minutes to make my damn coffee so I had to wiz by the paper boys, only to have to stare at fellow passengers and the Dr. Zizmore skin or teeth ads on the train (I’ve been looking at his ads for years and still not sure exactly what it is he treats).

Two stops in, and a well dressed guy gets on the train or at least moves in front of me…directly in front of me but with his back facing me. I see a portion of his face and I think….shit…..I’m pretty sure….it’s Hurricane Man. Only his hair is grown in (he had randomly shaved a really luxurious head of hair for absolutely no reason). I feel my palms began to sweat and a flush comes over me. I’m patting down my forehead in a panic…..do I say hello? Randomly look off into empty space or try to find an old Con Ed bill in my bag I can fully engross myself into and look engaged for the remainder of this twenty-five minute ride downtown??

Shit, but what if it’s NOT him?! How dumb do I feel then?! But I also don’t want to give him satisfaction of him thinking I’m avoiding him….what to do….what to do…what to….ooops……he got off at 42nd Street. I know he works downtown but maybe he switches trains there…..or…..he saw me and figured he was getting off that train regardless of where it stopped next. Who knows.

I had to confront him….in the most non-confrontational way of course. I sent him an email simply asking him if he was wearing green cords today? As awful as it sounds, this guy (whomever he is) was actually quite dapper and well put together – in spite of or because of the green cords with the snazzy blazer and debonair scarf and stylish carry/bag. And no, I don’t think he was gay….but nothing surprises me – so who knows.

He responds…“No why” and then we went back and forth and I told him which train I saw the guy from afar (lie) on and he responded “I was on that train this morning” to which I replied “that’s why I think it was you.” This went back and forth a few times to the point where he actually seemed unsure if this was in fact him when I finally answered “wouldn’t you know if you were wearing green cords?!”

“How are you? How you been?” and a bunch of other bullshit questions trying to be polite ensued and then I eventually stopped writing. He clearly has or had limited interest in me but the last thing I need is to have someone in Manhattan (no less my neighborhood AND work neighborhood) that I’m trying to avoid.

Because in all my years living here I can say without question……if you try to avoid someone in this city of 8 million….you will without question bump into them.

Dating a guy in your neighborhood has its definite drawbacks.