A date in the life...

A date in the life...

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Table for 3

Do you ever just sit back and wonder (while drinking wine), what is the point?  I find myself doing this a lot lately.  Not just the wine drinking, but pondering the meaning of my life.  More specifically, I think about the amount of dates, relationships and natural disasters I have encountered as an adult.  Let's be honest, anything before the legal drinking age just doesn't count.  I like to think that I am wiser and more aware of the bullshit after each failure but somehow one seems to slip right by me.  Then after a series of emotions, dates, energy and sex, I remember why I should've stayed single.  The best foot forward mysteriously goes back to its original starting position and I learn that Mr. Wonderful is just Mr. Wolf in sheep's clothing.  So naturally I tell myself to stay single because the players change but the game does not. 
While on this trajectory of self discovery, I think I've finally realized why I go through this over and over again.  (I'm entering the deep end of the pool so strap on some water wings and fill that glass.)  At the end of the day, we all want to matter.  We want to be loved.  We want to feel supported.  Bottom line is that we just want to feel like our lives mean something.  It isn't just the wine talking, I am going somewhere with this.  Trust me. 
My last relationship was probably one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made in my adult dating life.  I can't stand when people say that there are no regrets, no mistakes but only lessons.  I call bullshit.  My last one was nothing but a big fat heifer of a mistake.  This lad, Mike, was younger than me and knew exactly the way into my life.   He used a hefty dose of flattery, showed a need for me, told me everything I wanted to hear and most of all, he made me laugh.  His story was that he was leaving his current girlfriend who he lived with bla bla bla so I was merely just his friend at first.   Then after he left her, we started seeing each other.  I felt like I had met a best friend and boyfriend all in one.  Not to mention he was also in the entertainment business.  So what could be wrong with this scenario?  Two words:  RED FLAGS!
Sweet mother, I need to grab the bottle before I go any deeper into this!   I suggest you do the same because as they say, shit is about to get real.
Mike rented a room from a family member since leaving his ex and while I was there one night in his living room waiting to go out to dinner, he handed me his phone to show me a photo.  A text popped up from a girl saying "Hey hey sweetheart."  Immediately I asked who she was and he said that it was one of the girls he used to hook up with online and then said he will reply letting her know he has a girlfriend now and wouldn't be appropriate to hookup/chat anymore.  She replied with a brief response that was sort of like a "Fuck you".  In my mind I thought he squashed it, no big deal.  So we moved on from it.  As things progressed, we took a trip out of town together to enjoy some snow and catch a play.  That evening in the hotel room, we had taken in too much wine and after a romp in the sack, we laid there talking.  It was more like a question and answer session.  He asked a deep question about myself then I would reciprocate.  Somehow, the conversation turned into him telling me that he had once received a blow job from another man.   (That flag is a waving)  A gay friend who is married in fact.  Needless to say, my reaction was not savory.  I was shocked and immediately asked if he was gay, bi or going to do it again.  He got very angry at my reaction and stomped around the room like a child having a tantrum.  He then got into the other bed and said that he shouldn't have said anything and expected me to be more kind and supportive about it.  Oh and the kicker is that he did this in his ex girlfriends living room while she was at work.  Needless to say, the ride home the following day was awkward.  I asked him why he did it.  He said he was hanging with "said friend" and the friend said he could see that Mike was "big" through his shorts and wanted to see for himself.  So naturally Mike showed him (why wouldn't you show off your penis to a gay friend) and then one thing lead to another and wouldn't you know it, his friend just started giving him head.  While telling me this, I could tell he was very embarrassed and I just somehow told myself that maybe it's like when you experiment in college.  He didn't go to college, so maybe that was his "moment".  Okay, conversation over and time to move on.  No no no, not so fast.  The next week he didn't call, text or have much to say if I initiated conversation.  Finally he said that he was mad that I was judgemental and acted shocked.  Somehow we moved passed it and all was well.
As time went on, things were going great.  We did everything together.  We shared great nights out with our friends, attended events and did acting gigs together.  I helped get him booked as well as introduced him to a lot of my contacts in the business which in turn, got him a lot more work in film.  He was going on a trip to spend a week with friends in Chicago and decided the night before he left, he wanted me to meet his mother.  BOOM!  Big moment right?  His mom was his world and he took me to meet her.  It went great.  During the evening, she was on her laptop showing me old pics of Mikey and with her Facebook open, she received a friend request from a girl who knew Mike.  His mom pipes up asking why she keeps hounding her and who is she??  Our little boy looked like a deer caught in headlights.  Bright eyed and stunted, he explained that she was an old friend and was always bothering him and to ignore her.  That wonderful female instinct kicked in telling me that there was something more to the story.  So I took a mental picture of her name and later in the evening while on the couch watching TV, I looked her up online.  I found her public page on Instagram and there were all these posts depicting love for someone and then the one posted that night was something about how loving someone who ignores you is painful or some crap like that.  That clever girl used a hashtag with his name in it.  Oh but wait, looking back at all these love quotes, his name is always used in them.  Well shit!   I felt myself turning a brilliant shade of red (sort of like Merlot) and getting so upset that I could barely breathe.  While cheater is blissfully watching some crap show about food (the usual viewing in his home) he must've caught wind of my onset of anxiety and anger as I was typing a comment on this girls latest post about "being ignored."  I simply wrote, "I'm sorry he is ignoring you but we were busy fucking."  Then I looked up from my phone and yelled out, "WHO THE HELL IS THIS???"  Remember that deer in headlights look I mentioned from earlier in the evening?  Well this time it was the deer in headlights then struck by a very large vehicle expression.  He started asking questions about how did I know her and what did I know etc...  He kept demanding to give him my phone.  I said I knew that they were sleeping together and he was disgusting and I was out.  I stormed out of his house in a rage and somewhere between the front door and my car, I threw my big full bottle of water at him.  He followed me trying to explain that she was someone he also saw while he and I first dated and she was still attached.  I knew there was a lot of garbage to that explanation and I continued to scream at him demanding he tell me the truth.  He finally admitted that they had slept together while we were together.  So I left and told him to go to hell.  While he was in Chicago, I took off to California and spent a few days at the beach.  Sand, wine and tears filled with anger.  I came home and a few days later, I received a text in the middle of the night.  Mike had written me a long apology and poem via text while he was still away.  We spoke the next day and I agreed to hear him out when he returned.  There it was, my moment of weakness.  Truth was, I missed my friend.  I missed the one who I spent nearly everyday with and enjoyed my life with so I thought it wouldn't hurt to sit and talk.  WRONG!  He suckered me right back in.  We agreed to a fresh start and to put it behind us.  Yep, I was an idiot.  I own that. 
Sorry, that bottle went fast!  Must pop open another... hold please.
Needless to say, that new start proved to be the way to go.  We got closer and seemed to be happier than ever.  Even I was sickened by how "cute" we were.  He ended up losing his full time job and couldn't stay at his uncles house anymore so I took him in.  I realized while spending our lives together under the same roof that he was always on his phone.  I mean ALWAYS.  So I did what any good spy, I mean girlfriend, would do.  I pretended to act interested in what he was constantly doing.  He showed me his Instagram and then I took the phone and looked at what sort of people he followed.  They were all bodybuilders, gym buffs and men in general.  Red Flag!  I asked if he knew these people and he said no but it was motivation to get really fit.  Wait, what is that?  Oh it's that familiar smell of feces from a bull.  This only made my suspicions to grow and so while he would shower and leave his phone unattended, I would dig into his life.  I found many texts from his blow job buddy Alan, wanting to meet and connect.  I found emails where he was responding to ads online for male escorts for a men for men only service.  I found photos of women with penises.  I also discovered his Skype account where he talks to men.  He would jerk off with them online then agree to meet up with them in person. RED FLAG!  No wait, that was more like me holding the red cape while facing a bull in an arena.   I basically discovered a life that I didn't know existed that belonged to a guy I was sharing my life with.  I stayed quiet for the day (due to shock) and then that evening on our way to dinner, I asked to stop by the park and let's sit and talk.  We did just that.  I wanted to flip out.  I wanted to blurt out my discoveries.  I wanted to kick him in the dick.  Instead, I calmly asked him if there were things going on in his life that I should know.  He said no.  I asked if he still spoke to or saw Alan.  He said that they were friends but that's it.  Okay, this was going nowhere.  We left and I was suddenly faced with shock, sadness and the dilemma of what to do and how to do it.  I couldn't keep this up anymore.  The next morning I got up early for work, got dressed and when I went to leave, he woke up and insisted on kissing me goodbye.  What he didn't know was that I was crying the entire morning.  During that afternoon I called him and he was at my home on the internet.  I asked if he was online looking for work and he said not yet.  I snapped.  Him being on the internet must've been Skype sexing, jerking off to chicks with dicks or searching for a way to make money by looking at naked men.   I told him to pack up and I was on my way home.  I arrived and we went at it.  I called him every name in the book and said that he was a homo and needed to get the hell out of my life.  That didn't go well.  He got physical and thought it was a good idea to punish me for the way I was now treating him.  There was smacking, yelling, bending me over and trying to take charge of a situation that he had lost all control of.  He left.  He took his things and walked out.  Needless to say, I was struck by that bull after all. 
After many nights that ended in Xanax and wine, I picked myself up and moved on.  While away for work one week, my phone kept ringing and it was his mother.  I finally picked up only to hear her yelling at me to put her son on the phone.  I laughed and asked what she was talking about.  She swore up and down that he was with me and I assured her that I was nowhere near him nor would I be.  She said he had gone missing.  She begged me to help her find him as she was worried.  So I made a few calls and thought to call the hospital closest to his house.  Sure enough, they said he had just been discharged and because of the sensitive nature, that's all they could say.  Turns out, the idiot tried to kill himself (on my birthday) and didn't succeed.  A small part of me was sad but the bigger part of me was pissed off.  I called his mother back and told her.  She flipped her lid and wanted to know if I was lying and what happened.  All she knew is I kicked him out and left him with nothing.  Of course that's what he told her!  So now I am a very unhappy camper and decide to spill it.  I told her everything.  She cried and kept screaming that her only child couldn't be gay and how she wants to be a Grandmother one day.  I had enough and wanted out of this mess so I said I was hanging up and would send her copies of texts between him and I where he admits to the abuse, the homosexual behavior and why it ended.   D O N E.  His dirt was off of my hands.  I told her to go help her son and please leave me out of it.  That was it.  Happy Birthday to me.  I went back to my hotel, got boozed up and sat in the hot tub.  I met a lovely young guy while baking in the giant tub who was a gay male prostitute and serviced his Orange County clients at that hotel.  Okay, party over and back to room I went.
Post birthday debacle, I spent many days and nights wondering how I could've been so stupid.  How could I be so blind and let this happen under my nose?  How could I be so happy and it turned out to be a lie?  Was he just using me to help with money, career and at the end, a place to live?  Was he that desperate to take advantage of my heart?  Was I that desperate to feel loved and happy?  One day I was sitting in the park near my house with my beloved dog who was happily chasing her Frisbee and it hit me (a revelation not the Frisbee).  I could literally feel the weight of the answer cover me like a blanket.  It wasn't any of those things.  It was me.  I liked the feeling of being needed.  I liked the joy I got out of spending my time with my best friend and lover.  I adored the simple affection like a kiss on the forehead or squeezing my hand in the car.  I loved that someone listened to me and showed interest in my life.  Overall, I was happy with feeling that I mattered.  Somehow I equated the relationship with being validated.  Truth be told, I was always laboring under the idea that he was being dishonest.  Since I found out about his exploratory tryst the year before, I was always suspicious but talked myself out of it in exchange for comfort I had and the smile I kept finding on my face. 
So what the fuck is my point?  What am I going on about exactly?  It is so simple.  We get into relationships and fight for them when we know they are headed straight off a cliff.  We strap ourselves into the car and ride along watching the dead end sign approach us but we don't get out.  We do it because in that car, we aren't alone.  We matter.  We feel like we found our other half, our missing piece.  It's that thing that makes us feel whole.  Now that this happened, I have sorted out that I was never needing my other half because I am not a half.  All this time spent alone has made me realize that I am whole and it isn't an unhealthy relationship that validates my life.  I have to make my own life matter.  So I go on and love those who love me, albeit the list is quite short, but the most important thing I do is learn how to continue to love myself (and wine).  I am a work in progress, hell we all are, but now that I know that a relationship won't validate my life, I am happy.  Sure it gets lonely at times and no dates to accompany me to a wedding or a movie, but I am investing in myself.  When the time is right, I will meet someone who looking for and can appreciate the woman who loves herself, confident and honest with who she is and what she deserves.  If I want flowers right now, I will buy them.  If I want to see a film at the theater, I just go.  I am simply not a half because I go alone. 
Okay so you might say that I have contradicted myself in saying that mistakes aren't lessons, but the truth is, Mike was a Titanic sized mistake.  I am learning more about myself, people, relationships, friends, family and what matters.  I won't attribute that to his sorry confused lying ass, no.  I take the credit for realizing that my life is merely validated by my own heart and what I give. 
So order the dessert, dance like a fool regardless of who is watching, explore, laugh, be honest, love and most importantly, never drink stale wine.  
Oh and if you thought Mr. Charming pants couldn't get worse...wrong!  Turns out he knocked up Ms. Lonely Heart of Instagram while we were together.   
 CHEERS loser!  


Monday, September 22, 2014

(N)ot (F)or (L)ong

Wasn't it Ferris Bueller who said, "Life moves pretty fast.  If you don't stop and look around once and awhile, you could miss it."?  Well Ferris, you're not wrong!  It seems like someone has flipped a switch on my life over the last two years.  As soon as I quit my safe comfortable career and took a chance and dedicated my life to reality TV (UGH), things have been moving in fast forward.  I went from a very predictable life complete with bi weekly paychecks, beer drinking at the local pub at night, sleeping in on Sundays to then 6-8 hours a day of workouts, eating less calories than you can fathom and cameras in your face wanting you to share with the world those deep dark secrets that you've worked so hard to hide.  Once the cameras and crew leave, it's not over.  No no, then you sit and wait to see what kind of joke they've turned your life into and then air it for the world to see.  After you chug a Big Gulp of Merlot and realize that what you signed up to do, worked your ass off for and poured your heart into has now been blended up and shown as a big pile of dramatic crap designed for ratings.  Hmmm... that's about as settling as fermented wine.  It's not over yet because suddenly people want to know you and depending on how the story aired, you can get loads of haters, creepers and all sorts of arrogant fucks who feel that they now know you and can say anything they want.  Thank you social media. 

Woah!  All that ranting can get a gal thirsty.  Before I take a swig (or two) of my grapey goodness, please share in a toast with me:

Dear Haters, until you've climbed 112 flights of stairs to the top of the Stratosphere weighing 385lbs in an hour and a half, lunged across the Hoover Dam Bridge in the middle of August in 115 degree heat weighing 298lbs for 3 hours, dropped in the desert in the middle of summer and told to find your way home (and did), or stood in your bra and underwear sweating like a pig and fat as hell all the while with cameras in your face, then keep your ridiculous comments to yourself and just do me a favor and shut up.

...clinging glasses...CHEERS!

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, let me get back to my point(and story).  In the middle of all of the new chaos, I also managed to do some dating.  Not much, but some.  I have also been able to participate in a few films, commercials and TV shows (not reality).  While on set of a movie, I met a former NFL player who immediately charmed the pants right off me.  It's not what you are thinking.  He didn't say "Hi, my name is Jackson...now drop and give me 20!".  He actually complimented me, called me beautiful and did those kind gestures like pull out my chair that just really melt my butter.  After all of the name calling, on camera arguments and overall degrading of my soul I had just gone through with the reality show, it was a breath of fresh air to be treated so kindly.  I ate it up!  At first glance, I was attracted to him.  Tall, Italian, tattoos, nice build but I had no idea he was a former pro baller (not balla).  We ended up working together for a few weeks and since we were on set for 12 hours plus a night, it allowed for plenty of time to talk and get to know each other.  One night we were walking to get something to eat and someone approached him asking about his football career.   Once they finished their conversation, I learned that he used to play professionally for many years as a tight end and as luck would have it, he actually had a very tight end.  Touchdown for Christy!  During dinner, I decided to share with him the experience I had recently gone through with the show.  It was interesting exchanging our adventures as neither one of us had any idea what it was like for the other.  I mean, I had never befriended or dated an NFL'er and he had never known a weight loss reality participant so it was actually interesting and there was a lot to learn about the other.  We couldn't stop talking!  We both seemed intrigued by what the other had to say.  Things were going so well that nothing could've interrupted my current state of bliss... eeeeeeer screeeetch crash boom!
That's right, pump the brakes. 

Before I continue, I must refill my jug, umm I mean glass, and add this disclaimer:

- I like kids, babies, toddlers, pre teens and a few select teenagers. 
- I don't begrudge anyone for having kids although I cannot believe that some of the morons in this world do procreate.  Some people can't find their way out of an box but yet they manage to have kids.  Oh how I wish natural selection occurred in humans or we at least could enforce sterilization in the hopelessly stupid.
- At this stage of the game, I am well aware that most men have kids.  The only way I will find a man without them is to attend freshmen orientation at the local university and even that is no longer a guarantee thanks to shows like Teen Mom.

The locker room shenanigans, on the field drama, player scandals and all of the behind the scenes secrets that he shared were fascinating to me.  I just love hearing about those things that I know nothing about!  In the midst of throwing the football, he also managed to get married.  Okay, now my ears are perfectly perked!  He continued on about their relationship and how once they had kids it all went downhill.  So what do you do when your marriage fails because you had children?  You get married to wife number two and have a few more.  Turns out, he was so good at getting married and having kids that he did it a third time and ended up with 8 kids total.  I had to hand it to him, he managed to get married then divorce 3 times, fertilize a bunch of eggs and father 8 kids while sustaining a long pro football career.  Bravo buddy!  Someone hand this guy the Heisman trophy.  By the time he finished sharing his autobiography with me, I was exhausted.  That was a lot to digest and I hadn't even touched my meal. 

After we wrapped that morning, I said goodbye to him and got in my car to go home and catch a bit of sleep before returning to set that night.  I got to bed feeling exhausted but couldn't turn my mind off.  I meet this guy and we hit it off but how in the world could we date?  It gets challenging enough trying to fit into a single father's life when he has one ex wife and a child or two but Jackson has 3 ex wives and 8 children.  I was once heavily involved with a man who had his son full time and we never had alone time and our relationship revolved around his son.  That was a lot of work!  I grew to love his son and if our relationship was going to work, I would have to so thankfully I did.  Eventually we parted ways because he was giving it to his ex whore wife while I was at home with his little boy doing homework.  Another story, another time.  Now that I know just how much commitment and time goes into children, rather dating men with them, I just can't fathom how it could possibly work with 8 kids.  Granted, we were spending lots of time together on set but he had to hire babysitters and get the ex wives to help watch them all.  This was all planned out because it was in fact a job but I just can't believe that he could organize all of that for him and I to grab a movie or a meal.  Could you imagine him asking wives 1-3 if they could keep all 8 kids one night so we could get busy in the sack?  Nope, me neither.

I got to set that night and we had a few hours in holding so we got to chat.  He managed to bring up his birthday that was just around the corner and suggested we go out and celebrate.  As nice as I could, I asked him if that was possible with all of his clan at home?  He assured me that since it was his birthday he could wrangle enough childcare for the night.  That led to me asking him if we should see each other after our work was done and he said "Of course!  This isn't just a fling for me.  I want to get to know you better and see what can happen."  In my realistic mind, I thought it was a nice thing to say but just didn't know how in the world we would ever have time together.  I had to give the lad credit for his optimism though. 

Our parts had finally wrapped and now it was time to test drive dating in the real world.  We text mostly with the occasional phone call late at night and he set up his birthday festivities with me for the following week.  He said he had childcare in place and nothing was going to get in the way of having fun.  The following week rolled around and I sent a text asking how his day was blah blah blah with no response.  Let's jus say that I did not get a response for two weeks.  Nothing.  At first I was worried but then I just told myself that he is a guy and probably just blew me off.  I was a bit pissed off about it but hey, life goes on. 

Three weeks after the last time I had heard from him, I decided to shoot him a text.  I wrote "If you are blowing me off then have the balls to tell me.  If not and something is wrong, let me know.  Either way, man up and say something."  Ding ding ding!  I got a response!  He said "I am sorry.  I had to travel out of state for an emergency with my ex wife and I am on my way back.  It has been hectic so I haven't had time to text you."   I sat on that for a few minutes then text this, "I am sorry that there was an emergency and I hope all is well.  For future reference, texting someone takes less than a minute and despite how busy you are, you can at least have the decency to send one even if you have to do it while taking a crap on the toilet."   He said he was sorry and I never replied.  That was really all I needed to solidify what I had been thinking all along.  This guy, regardless of how great I thought he was, had too much going on in his life with exes and kids.  Do I think less of him for having that many?  No.  It just doesn't work for me.  Besides, I think that seeing as how I have never been married and unable to have kids automatically disqualifies me to be with him.

Despite that bump in the road, my life is still continuing to go in fast forward.   Regardless of the speed it's going in, I always make time for my dogs, wine and the occasional 80's movie.


Sunday, June 15, 2014

Just Do It....Or Not

I never have trouble starting a tale of despair and disaster in the world of blogging but tonight I find myself at a loss.  I am trying to figure out what the problem is and all I can come up with is that I am getting tired of dating.  It is literally exhausting both physically and emotionally.  Not even a glass (or jug) of Merlot can pep me up and snap me out of this dating funk.  Okay, it may not cure what is ailing me but it sure does dress up my wounds in a beautiful burgundy colored bandage.  I suppose what I am getting at is that this particular story may not have much whit, lessons or sex but as always I guarantee that it will possess the sad and pathetic truth (and a name change to protect the guilty). 

I can't really say what it was that got into me this particular lonely evening but I decided to scroll through the endless rolodex of available Vegas bachelors online.  After the first 50, they all start to morph into the same looking guy.  Let me paint the picture for you.  The Vegas bachelor is shirtless and standing in front of his bathroom mirror flexing and showing off whatever muscles are toned on his upper body.  He is holding his phone while displaying his biceps snapping that one photo that will make the women swoon.  All the while he has forgotten to tidy up the counter in front of him or wipe off the toothpaste/spit combo speckled on his mirror.  Their profiles suggest that not only are they physically fit but that they are also serious about finding their partner.  Sure they spend their free time riding quads, eating healthy, watching sports, shooting targets in the desert, taking care of homeless children, feeding the hungry and working out in the gym but they still have plenty of time for that one special woman.  After looking at the last profile before calling it quits, I got a message.  DING!  The message was from this tall, dark, handsome and seemingly successful man who was in his early 40's named Devon.  He didn't say much but mentioned that he liked blondes and if I would like to get to know each other to please reply.  After scanning his bio online, I decided to reply.  He seemed different and interesting.  He owned an athletic shoe company and was partnered up with a famous NBA player.  No no, I wasn't immediately drawn to dollar signs or free shoes (okay maybe one pair) but I was more excited at the thought of someone having a job and ambition.  So we exchanged messages throughout the evening and the next day spoke on the phone.  After a lot of chit chat, he asked me out on a date.

Let's refill before we go on.... Logistics can really make a gal thirsty!

Three days after first talking to Devon, we met.  He had asked me to meet him at The Venetian at a nice little Italian restaurant where we could sit by the canal that runs through the casino and afterward take a ride on the Gondola.  What?  Wait a minute!  We aren't meeting at a dive bar or a frozen yogurt eatery where I can sit and listen to you tell me how fat women are submissive or leave me at the table while you go to the bathroom and I never see you again??  I was so ill prepared for such a date!  No jeans and sexy top, no no, this required a dress, heels and lots of hairspray.  After all, he said he was 6'8" tall and seeing as how I am merely 5'10", I had some height to make up for.  Platform shoes and at least 4" of teased blonde locks and I was armed and ready to go.  I arrived right on time and as I approached the restaurant, I spotted Devon sitting at a table for two.  At first glance I immediately knew it was him because he was decked out in his own athletic gear from head to toe.  I then noticed how much older he looked than his photos but still very good looking.  I approached him and he stood up and hugged me.  He said he spotted me a mile away because of my bright blonde hair.  Why do people always point this out to me?  Clearly I am not the only one with platinum hair and an amazing hair stylist!  So we sat down and he handed me my menu while pointing out that while he was waiting for me, he already decided on what to eat.  Woah!  Slow down bro, I wasn't late.  Let me catch up! While he was utilizing the art of small talk and I surveyed the selections, I noticed that my menu seemed a bit limited for such a nice restaurant.  There were only two choices for everything including entrees.  Don't get me wrong, I wasn't there for the meal but it just seemed a bit strange.  If I was one of those girls who merely went on first dates for a free meal then I wouldn't go through so much trouble of beautification and callus causing shoes.  The server came to our table and proceeded to take our orders.  Although Devon only chose water to drink, I of course opted for my own preference in liquid refreshment (one tall glass of red, thank you).

Our conversation was off to a running start!  All I had to do was ask about his shoe company and how it got started.  BOOM!  He had so much to say that I didn't have to say a word.  My job was merely going to entail just sitting there, nodding my head and look pretty.  I found myself a bit intrigued by his story of how he got started and how shoes are made and then we were interrupted.  To my right, just outside of the eating area, there were people standing and staring at us.  One started taking photos.  Then another couple slows down and starts whispering.  I asked "Do you know them?  Do they know you?  What's going on?"  He sort of laughed and said that they must think we are "somebody famous" because he is a tall black guy wearing athletic gear and I am the big breasted blonde seated with him.  No sooner did he say those words that we hear one lady say out loud, "That's Coco but that isn't Ice T."   Our sudden fame continued on throughout our meal but eventually we ignored it all and he continued to talk while I was sure to sit up right and smile pretty (Lord knows where those pictures could surface someday).  Despite the tourist paparazzi and his endless supply of conversation (about himself) I really enjoyed my meal and then the server reappeared offering us a choice of two desserts.  I declined but opted for another glass of wine.  After all, being a new celebrity is exhausting.

After dessert and wine, he asked if I would care to take a ride on the Gondola.  Hmmm... with all of that talk, photos and wine, I somehow forgot to see if I was even attracted to this guy.  Well after careful thought, I came to the conclusion that I really had no idea other than I loved his passion for what he does. So I told him that I would like to join him.
 Grab your glass and make sure it is at least half full for what I am about to tell you...
The server then arrived and said to Devon "Sir, your prepaid 2 for 1 coupon does not cover the wine."   GULP!  Without even batting an eyelash, Devon pointed at me and said, "Give her the bill for the wine then."  GULP!  Not that I am opposed to paying for my own meal or wine (hell I do that daily) but this guy used a coupon and if you are keeping score, he owns an athletic show company and let's just say, I do not!  After I realized he wasn't kidding, I pulled out my wallet and paid my part of the bill and as I closed my wallet he pipes up and asks, "Will you take care of the tip too?"  I opened my wallet back up and pulled out the tip money and placed it on the table and jokingly quipped, "Do you need any cab fare before I put it away?"
Devon laughed and then motioned for us to get up and go.  We walked out towards the Gondola and he pulls out this ticket from his pocket and started to read it.  He then informed me that his free tickets have expired and apologized.  If things weren't interesting enough already, wouldn't you know it, a young girl walks up to us and asks if she could have his autograph.   He told her in a simple yet sarcastic sort of way, "No, I am not who you think I am.".

Wait for it... wait for it...

After quick assessment I concluded that this night was just an entire pile of bizarre and it was time to go.  I didn't feel any spark (unless you count the flash from the strangers taking photos), he was cheap, self absorbed and now rude to young girls.  At that moment I told him that we should call it a night and I was going to go home.  He leaned over, hugged me and asked if I would give him a ride back to his place.   Yeah, I thought he was joking too, but no such luck.  He then went on to explain that back in California he was involved in a hit and run and didn't take responsibility for it so his license is suspended because he refuses to pay the $16,000 worth of fines he has now accumulated.  Luckily my scrunched up facial expression answered that question for him because he then chuckled and  said not to worry about it, he will take a taxi.  I suppose I am lucky he didn't take me up on that offer for cab fare after all!  I turned and walked away (would've ran but platforms don't allow for that) saying goodnight.

The next morning while I was enjoying a lovely glass of orange juice (and vodka) and still shaking my head over the events that took place the night before, my phone alerted me to a text.   Guess who?  Devon text to say that he loved our date and hoped to do it again very soon.  I really didn't know what to say so all I did was reply with "It was nice meeting you too."   I didn't want to suggest doing it again but I did want to say that if he had anymore interesting prepaid coupons for a show like Celine Dion, then sure, I am game.  But no, I left it at that, finished my morning beverage and went about my life... All by myself...

Okay, if you didn't pick up on that Celine Dion reference then you need to drink more...


Friday, January 24, 2014

Can't Buy Me Love

I am the kind of gal who doesn't drink just one type of vino.  I am an equal opportunist in the field of red wine.  In fact, I have yet to meet a glass of red grapes that I didn't like.  However, if you were to ask why I don't drink white wine the answer would be simple.  White wine makes the end of my nose itch.  We aren't  talking about just a mere tickle but rather full blown bugs under the skin, rip my nose off and overdose on Benedryl type of itch.  I don't look at it like it is a bad thing but rather a sign from the grape Gods that I was meant to be a red wine connoisseur.   Who am I to question a higher power?  With that said, I have my glass poured and enjoying each sip as I share another tale from the crypt.

I look at men and dating the way I look at wine.  I love all types but unfortunately I have a bad reaction to a large amount of them.  Every now and then I test the waters and try a good Gew├╝rztraminer and find that my reaction hasn't changed.  Throughout my dating career, er um I mean life, I have found that extremely wealthy men and I don't mix either.  They make my skin not only itch, but crawl.  Being the optimist that I am, I like to go and revisit my allergies and convictions and give a rich man a try.  

I had received a message on the old trusty dating site from a man who seemed normal.  They all appear normal at first until proven guilty (which never takes long as we know).  At first glance, nothing about him screamed millionaire.  He posted a few photos and wasn't bad looking, very clean cut complete with polo shirts.  His profile said that he had two kids, in his 40's,over 6 feet tall with a full head of hair, business owner, no pets (should've been a red flag) and was looking for a long term relationship.  His message to me was simple.  He said  "Hi, I am Matt and would like to cut to the chase and take you to dinner."   I wrote back and offered my phone number and suggested we talk for a bit before meeting.  He called the next day and I found him to be charming, witty and direct.  Not too shabby for our first conversation.  At the end of the call he asked if I would meet him for lunch the following day to which I happily agreed.  Right as we were about to say goodbye, he offered up his full name so I would know he was legit.  WOW!  I didn't have to ask for it or do my own private investigation (also known as Google).  Now there had to be a catch!  It was all just too smooth and too easy.  The first thing I did was look up the restaurant we were meeting at the next day.  I had never heard of it when he suggested it but of course I acted like I had been there plenty of times.  Turns out that the restaurant is located on the most prestigious golf course in Las Vegas.  From there, I went on to look up Matt and see what I could find out on him.  I quickly learned that he was no ordinary lad.  No no, he was in fact a multi millionaire who came from a long line of other well known wealthy men.  His grandfather was responsible for some really well known creatures in the film industry and his father was also extremely well known for creating some of the most beautiful buildings in this country.  Then there is Matt who took the family money and prestige and developed restaurants and buildings around the country.  Normally when finding out such details I wouldn't even agree to go out with a man like that but this one just seemed so nice.  Maybe Matt would be the one to prove me wrong?  He could be that one particular white wine that didn't cause an allergic reaction that affected my nose.  

The next morning I quickly jumped out of bed and went straight into the closet pulling out every cute clothing option I own.  I held up one thing after another while staring in the mirror and nothing seemed good enough.   It could've been my ratty bed head sticking straight up or the countless jagged lines across my face from where my face was smashed against the pillow all night, but nothing looked good enough for this lunch date.  I thought perhaps if I showered and put my makeup on then maybe my clothes might look differently.  While shaking all of my bits in the shower to the perky lyrics of my favorite Lady Ga Ga song, it dawned on me that it doesn't matter what I wear.  I just had to look nice and not try so hard.  He is a human just like me and I am sure he isn't at home fretting over what he is going to wear.  Besides, if all it took was a hot outfit to land a mate then I wouldn't be single all these years.  I may not be a size zero but I know how to pull off nice attire.  Even the most simple clothes can be spruced up with the right shoes and accessories.  So I put aside all of my silly wardrobe concerns and threw an outfit together and completed it with a black wool peacoat.  Besides the abnormal frigid Vegas temperature, the coat also hides a lot of imperfections.  

I arrived at the valet of the country club and after seeing the brand new Mercedes, BMW's and countless Bentley cars, I made a swift detour into the self parking lot.  Don't get me wrong, I love my modest Honda but it didn't stand a chance next to those higher end vehicles.  The only flaw in that decision was that I was wearing 3" heels that were for show and not for comfort.  I hiked up to the restaurant, wiped the sweat off of my forehead and entered.  I told the host who I was there to meet and I was immediately escorted to the table where Matt was already seated.  He stood up from his chair, shook my hand and gestured to the seat that I was to sit in.  My first impression was that he looked much older than his photos and he licked his lips non stop.  There was an obvious discomfort in the air and our small talk was really forced.  I looked over the menu and as I browsed the lunch selections, he kept insisting I get a salad.  The waiter approached (calling my date by name) and asked if he would like his usual and what I would like to order.  Matt proceeded to order a Scotch for himself, a sandwich with a bowl of soup and for me the infamous salad with a glass of water.  Wait!  He gets Scotch and I get water??  To say I was a bit shocked and pissed off would be an understatement.  It was at this moment I decided to just suck it up, eat my salad and sip my water (yuck) and get the hell out of there.  Who does that?  He didn't know me and then orders my meal!  Obviously this guy is used to being the boss in life and on dates.  Granted, I like a little take charge in a man but this was a bit much after only knowing each other for five minutes.  I gave the waiter my menu and started asking Mr. bossy pants some personal questions.  I wasn't too thrilled with him but why not dig in and learn a thing or two.  

Within 10 minutes I learned that he owned several homes between Las Vegas and Southern California.  He likes to travel around Europe at least twice a year.  He doesn't like dogs because in his words "all they do is shit and shed" and divorced his wife for lack of blow jobs.  
That's right, you heard me.  Now take a deep breath and a large sip of your beverage then we will continue.
He ripped through all sorts of little details until he touched on his ex wife.  Now the can was wide open and worms were everywhere!   Still incessantly licking his lips and blinking one eye, he sipped his Scotch and proceeded to go on and on about his ex wife.  Sure she had slept with his good friend and sure she liked to gamble away thousands of dollars a week but it was the lack of oral gratification that ultimately was the cause of their demise.  He went on to say that he told her upon marriage that she would never have to lift a finger in their home, have a nanny if they had kids and maids to clean the home just as long as she greeted him on her knees each night when he returned home from work.  He then asked me, "If you and I were married and you were spoiled rotten, wouldn't you greet me by giving me head every night?"  I was so blown away (yeah I said blown) by this that my only response was "no but it's only because I have arthritis in my knees."  He gave off an unamused chuckle and then gulped down the rest of his drink.  Once our meal arrived, we both dove in and used the food as a reason not to speak to each other.  He ate his lunch quite quickly and I was only half through my delicious (he was right) salad.  Who knew that a garden in a bowl could be so scrumptious?  As he took his last bite, he summoned the server and asked for the check.  He didn't ask if I was finished, needed a refill of water or if I wanted anything else.  Nothing!  He pulled out his American Express black card and was sure to show it to me before handing it with the bill to the waiter.  Yes hot shot, I know you are rich so calm down!  In my best military imitation, I scarfed down as much salad as I could.  As he finished signing for our lunch, he pulled out his wad of hundred dollar bills and asked our server for change.  Once he got the money back, he stood up and said "well thanks, better get back to work".  I quickly grabbed my things and followed him out towards the exit.  

In an effort to end this date on a decent note I made mention of how beautiful the Christmas tree was in the lobby.   Matt's response was just "UGH, Christmas!"   He reached out his hand to shake mine and said that he was going to "hit the head" before he leaves and then offered me money for valet.  I sarcastically said that I had it covered.  Okay so I didn't use the valet service but he didn't need to know that.  I happily left through the door and made my way back to my humble little Honda and got the hell out of there.  As I drove home, my phone rang.  Guess who?  That's right, it was Mr. Bossy Pants.   I hesitantly answered and he said hello in an annoyed type of tone.  He thanked me for meeting him but was disheartened that I deceived him.  I asked what in the hell was he referring to and he went on to say that I never mentioned the tattoo under my right wrist.  He was so disgusted by my visible ink stain that you would've thought I had been his ex wife who didn't give him blow jobs.  Before I could say anything in return he told me that he had another call and had to go.  Click!  If our lunch date wasn't bad enough, he had to top it off with some verbal shit dessert.

Once I arrived home, I kicked off my blister causing (but cute) shoes and poured a glass of Merlot.  As I savored each sip I replayed the entire lunch in my head and came to the conclusion that clearly I am still unable to date rich men.  So next time the urge strikes, I will drink some Pinot Grigio, scratch my nose and remind myself that white wine and rich men don't mix!

Friday, December 27, 2013

No Time Like The "Present"

As this year's Christmas draws to a close, I thought that perhaps I should reflect on the lessons I have learned from it.  As with any holiday or day of the week, I have learned that you should always be relaxed when divulging your inner most thoughts or rants.   So the quickest way to the inner peace is by drinking delicious, mind numbing yet good for the heart, red wine.  While drinking, if you feel the need to do a little downward dog or any variation of your favorite yoga pose, just be sure to set the glass down first.  No need for any unnecessary fatalities.  By fatality of course I mean, spilled wine.  This tip can also be useful in other wine consuming situations such as sex, walking the dog, vacuuming or basically any activity where you are drinking and not just sitting down.
Oh that reminds me, all this typing and drinking makes for a quickly emptied glass.  Bare with me while I fill 'er up!

I apologize for getting a bit off track there for just a moment but we all know that the topic of Merlot safety is one that should never be taken lightly.  That said, let's continue shall we?  As I began to say, I would like to share the lesson I have quickly learned this Christmas.  When I paid Santa that last visit recently to discuss my new dating strategy, I had no idea that he would act on it so vehemently!  No sooner did I swallow the last piece of miniature candy cane given to me by one of his elves, did I go out on a first date with a not so good looking chap.

This particular experiment's name was Corey (not really, but it's not worth getting sued over).  He is 6'3", caucasian, 47 years old, full head of short brown hair, nicely built (not too big, not too small), and a full set of teeth.  Are you wondering why I called him "not so good looking" yet?  I will get to it.  Just be patient and take another sip or gulp, you choose.  Corey has a great job that takes him up north to another state for two weeks at a time then home for two weeks off that seems to pay very well.  He has never been married and has no children.  He owns his current home and has a car.  You might think that having a car shouldn't get you dating points but trust me, it does!  Do you really want to be picked up for a date on Schwinn 10 speed and riding on the handle bars or sitting piggy back on a 30 mph moped?   When you total these details up you would think that he was a suitable candidate even though he carried a cell phone that was not only a flip version but might have just been the original flip phone.  Still, an ancient mobile device wasn't enough to detour me from my quest to find a mate.  We met at a low lit public place that was a log cabin type of tavern.  He had arrived 30 minutes early and I was there right on time.  I greeted him and sat down across the table from Corey and saw that there were 4 empty beer glasses as well as one half empty (or half full, depends on how you look at it) properly lined up in front of him.  Not to worry, I am not about to prove that I am a hypocrite.  For one who possesses a strong desire for red wine, I did not look down on him for the amount of beer he clearly chugged down prior to my arrival.    He was wearing a pair of dark sweat pants, sneakers, a light colored sweatshirt and a wind breaker jacket which bared the logo of a local casino.  Okay so it was a clear cut case of a wardrobe malfunction but I still refused to take him out of the running because if things were actually to progress between us, I could always help (change) his wardrobe.  

Let's pause for the cause.  My mouth is dry and there is nothing thirst quenching about an empty glass.

 If you have been keeping track you'll know that this 47 year old is good on paper, likes to drink beer and either picks out his clothes in the dark or hasn't been taught proper wardrobe etiquette in this century.  The conversation was off to a running start.  He not only went into further detail of his job but also included his upbringing in a small town and how his parents are also second cousins.  No, I am not kidding.  I would have spit up my wine at that moment but we all know how I feel about being wasteful.  The conversation quickly shifted into religion.  Stop laughing, I am not the one who brought it up!  Seeing as how my family houses Catholics, Jews, Mormons and a few back slidden Christians, there wasn't much he could say that I haven't already heard.  I grew up in a potpourri of religion in my home and nowadays I only pray to the grape infused Gods.  Next topic was about his job, again.  

After the third round of "This is my job and this is what I do", I decided it was time to go.  I am sure you have noticed that I never mentioned his face and there is a good reason for that.  I am sure that plenty of women would find him attractive but I was not one of them.  There is not enough alcohol for me to be able to describe it.  Needless to say, I was looking around a lot during that date.  I did give it a good effort and really tried to imagine that if over time, I could be attracted to him.  Bottom line is there was no spark.  Not even a flicker.  Nothing.  (Nada, for the Latin audience). Before he could indulge me into another round of my job is cool and this is how cool I am when I do it, I suggested that it was time to go.  He paid the bill and we walked out to the parking lot and to my car.  He gave me a hug and asked if he could take me out again this week before leaving for work out of town this weekend.  I gave it a thought and told him yes I would.  The only reason I agreed to this was I really wanted to give this no spark dating an old fashioned college try.  The next day I sent a text saying hello and bla bla bla and still days later, no response.  Am I disappointed, irritated and pissed off?  The answer would be a hearty "HELL NO!"   In a different situation I might be offended by the lack of response but in this case, I feel as though he did me a favor.  I didn't want to go out again but I was open to the idea of getting involved with a man with whom I couldn't look at sober or inebriated.  

So as my final glass of liquid joy empties and another one date wonder draws to a close, let's reflect on what I have learned:

1.  Santa Clause took me too literally this year.
2.  No amount of alcohol can make someone attractive.
3.  Good on paper does not make your face more appealing.
4.  A spark is very important (but only you can prevent forest fires)
5.  Chances are that when your parents are related, you and I won't be having a second date.

Thank you dear jolly fat man in the big red suit for not only giving me a Christmas present so soon but also giving me the gift of a lesson.  The lesson being that when dating, it is okay to want certain things out of a man including attraction.  

We have a new year approaching which means more reason to eat, drink, be merry and drink a bit more!  Happy 2014 and Cheers!

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Lesser Expectations

Do you hear that?  Listen closely because if you do you'll recognize that it is the sound of the soothing pour of a freshly opened bottle (okay box) of the finest Merlot that $10 can buy.  I finally bought that particular glass that holds an entire bottle of wine.   As much as I love it, it does carry with it a certain amount of guilt.  On the bright side, I save time by not having to refill my glass repeatedly or suffer from uneven biceps by constantly using my right arm to life the bottle.  However, by the time I finish the glass I feel my bubble burst when I realize that there is no more to pour.  I suppose I could be bothered to open a new bottle or I could just buy a box.  Ding Ding Ding!  It is a win win situation.  You see, not only do I fill a bottle size glass but when it's time for a refill, I actually have wine to drain from that cute little plastic spout.  Now go ahead and fill your glass (despite the size) and join me for story time...

Tastes pretty good doesn't it?

Besides discovering all of the incredible benefits of cardboard vs. glass, I have also managed to be brave and revisit the world of dating.  I know I know, you'd think I would have learned my lesson by now given all of the mishaps and train wrecks I have been involved in but no, I hang on to that little drug called hope (and sometimes Xanax).  One might also assume that after all this time and my lengthy silence that I may have found "the one" but you'd be wrong again.  I did manage to stumble across several liars, men hung up on other women and one millionaire.  In fact, I could rewrite the 12 Days of Christmas song with the bone heads I have met over the last twelve months but I'm just not sure that "3 unemployed, 2 alcoholics and 1 millionaire" is as festive.  With so many to choose from, which one do I feel like divulging the dirty details about?  To be honest, it is quite difficult to pick just one wiener, sorry winner, from the loser olympics.  So how about instead of choosing just one to share, I let you in on a little experiment that I am currently partaking in?

Time to tip the spout!  You see, with a box there are still refills available...

I have always made sure that when I agree to meet a new man, that there is a certain amount of attraction.  Let's not forget about the list I gave to Santa in the past regarding features such as height, hair or the lack of, muscles etc... and although that big fat jolly man provided such men throughout the year, all of them missed the mark.  So four weeks ago I decided to go and pay a visit to Mr. Clause and discuss my ranking on this years naughty and nice list.  After we went through the list and I found that I had landed smack dab in the middle of it, I went ahead and started the negotiation process for the type of man I am looking for in the year ahead.  After my new and improved list of demands, er um I mean qualities I would like, he began to laugh.   Okay it wasn't just laughter, it was more like a loud roar that made his belly jiggle like a bowl full of jelly (or a bottle of wine after dropping it... more reason for a box).    I was suddenly embarrassed as I realized his hysterics had drawn a crowd, or maybe it was just a line of kids waiting their turn, but still I had to leave and rethink my requests.   

After licking my wounds of humiliation, I thought long and hard about what matters most to me when choosing a mate.  Let's not be silly, of course I would still like a taller man with a career, a home, vehicle and no outstanding warrants but in the column of physical attributes, I had to make some minor adjustments:

1. Does not have to have a shaved head.   Hair is okay but it can't be long.   The 80's are over, sadly. Don't get me wrong, I love the big hair bands who gave us "you give love a bad name" or "she's my cherry pie" but when it comes to hair, above the ears not down your back.  Thank you and rock on!
2. The tattoos are now optional but not required.  Sigh....
3. Muscles are wonderful but it isn't a deal (or brick) breaker.
4. The one thing I won't budge on is height.  Be as tall as me or taller.  When a man's face just barely reaches my cleavage well.... hmmmm, maybe I will have to get back to this one later.
5. Full set of teeth whether real or fake just have some pearly whites visible when smiling.

After compiling my new list of desired male traits, I realized that I am willing to date a man that isn't that attractive or necessarily has to be cute.  You see, nowhere in that list did I mention good looking or sexy.  Just be taller than Danny Devito and have some chops to chew food with.  Armed with my revisions, I headed back to the North Pole located at the local mall and had a chat with Santa.  I sat next to his lap (didn't want to hurt the old goat) and told him that I was ready to renegotiate my Christmas wish.  The conversation went very well and instead of laughing, he actually told me that he was proud of me opening my mind to the possibility of falling in love with an unattractive man.  I was so happy to hear this from him not only because I felt that I did good by lowering my standards but also I could smell alcohol on his breath so clearly we were on the same page.  I gave him a hearty high five and he gave me a "ho ho ho" (or did he call me that) as I walked away from his winter wonderland.  

I arrived home just in time to have some liquid dinner and give further thought to my new plan.  If I find or meet a man who is not attractive, I will be open minded to going out with him.  So what if I can't look at him sober or require dim lighting at all times?  As long as he is kind, honest, funny, single, not a felon and makes an honest living then he is a candidate.  This experiment will commence once the last of the egg nog and Brandy has been poured, the Christmas trees has been put back in their boxes and the dogs holiday sweaters go back in the closet, I will then begin my quest.  Until then, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Cheers!

...and be sure to recycle those boxes ;)

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Times a wastin...

After several of workouts, 40 hours at work, a much needed mani/pedi and another failed relationship, I figured it was time to pour myself a large glass of Merlot and share yet another dating debacle.  My toes are a lovely shade of pale pink while my fingernails are a bright fluorescent nod to the 80's.  My hair is fabulously large and makeup flawless, I am wearing turquoise pajama shorts, black tank top and furry zebra print robe and ready to share my sorrows.  I mean, what else would I do looking this way?  While others choose to wear this particular attire to shop at the local Walmart, I choose to sit home with my laptop and glass(bottle) of wine to divulge my pathetic attempts at happily ever after.  You're welcome, you can thank me later!

Remember the good old days when you would be suffering from a breakup and your friends would be there for you with comforting words of wisdom, a meal out, cocktails at the local bar or a shopping trip to support your anguish?  Looks like those days are long gone for me.  Now when I inform my friends that I found myself single again, they respond by saying that it is an opportunity for another blog.  You've got to be kidding me!  No cocktails, no high priced shopping, no 4000 calorie meal followed by a bucket of ice cream.  No!  Sympathetic words of wisdom have been replaced by "please write down your misery and entertain us!"  Ok fine, I can play along.  Here you go my caring friends, enjoy and you can't say that I've never given you anything.

Go ahead and grab a glass of your favorite grape and let's dive in....

On a Friday night while others were out enjoying the Vegas night life, I was at home surfing the Internet for a possible date.  Page after page, I scrolled through countless single men who claim that they are looking for "the one".  On this particular site, you have the option to state whether you are looking for a long term relationship, marriage, dating or just a casual encounter(aka wham bam hand me a tissue ma'am).  I kept it to the ones looking for a relationship because in all honesty, if I was looking for just sex, I could just pick up the phone and get it.  That is not me tooting my own horn, no no, that is just the truth.  Even if I didn't have a little black book, I could go down to the bar and pick a guy up and get it on the parking lot.  I am a fan of the booty call, I really am, but these days I would like to find the sex with a side of relationship.  Call me crazy!  So I had stumbled across a few decent looking and semi normal sounding prospects but none of them were jumping off the page and then I found Brady.  His profile said that he was a single part time father, business owner, local high school coach, 6'4" tall, tattooed and liked dogs.  His one photo was just from the shoulders up and from what I could tell, he was broad with a shaved head and goatee.  Ding Ding Ding!  I sent him a message that was short and sweet that read "Hello.  My name is Christy and I enjoyed your profile.  If you'd like to chat after seeing mine, that would be great."  The way I see it, why go on and on if he takes one look at me and isn't interested?  Within two minutes he had responded with his name.  We went back and forth through messages then moved on to exchanging phone number and texts.  Before long, he asked to meet me the next night for dinner.  I agreed and the next day we met up at a casual restaurant.  I didn't feel the need to get all dolled up this time.  The hair and makeup were good but I was wearing the most casual clothes.  It was just a step up from what I have on now.  Once we got out of our cars and saw each other, the clouds parted and the angels starting singing.  That spark that I've always read about actually happened to me.  We hugged and just clicked right from the start.

After 4 hours of non stop conversation and barely touching our food, we left the restaurant.  He asked if he could hug me goodbye and while hugging I asked if I could kiss him goodbye.  I know, the little slut in me wanted to test the merchandise.  Let's just say he passed with flying colors.  Brady asked if he could see me again the next day and of course I said yes.  He was so good looking in person and beyond charming.  He had told me I was beautiful and couldn't understand why I was single.  The next day we met for a movie then dinner.  During dinner we shared stories and found that we had a lot in common.  A few glasses of wine into the meal, I was an open book.  Normally that could frighten a  man away but in this case, he seemed to really like what I had to say.  Once the night came to an end, we said goodbye at my car and then kissed for several minutes.  I could not get enough of his mouth!  My inner slut was becoming a bonafide whore and was trying to convince me to go home with him.  I won the fight and reluctantly got into my car and went home.  That week we saw each other nearly every day.  He would text and/or call me throughout the day saying the nicest things like he was already hooked or he really liked me.


After 6 weeks of bliss, what went wrong?  That is a great question and I don't really have a solid answer only the facts.  After our (excuse the expression) beating around the bush phase ended and we consummated our relationship, things were amazing.  Not only did we laugh, have fun, talk and do nice things for each other but we were also having fantastic sex.  My only complaint would be that he always preferred me to be on top.  It felt great, don't get me wrong but now and then I prefer to enjoy more and work less.  Just sayin...
I would like to say that we got into a big fight, caught me faking an orgasm or even worse, I caught him with another woman but no.  None of the above.  It just went from being head over heels everyday to he was busier at work and busier with his kids every night.   Our nights filled with dinner then great sex for dessert turned into cancelled plans with apology phone calls.  Text messages replaced phone calls then silence replaced the texts.  The constant disappointment turned me into a full blown bitch.  Sweet and polite me ran into the phone booth, spun around and came out psycho woman. I became a cliche.  In no way was I concerned that he had met someone else.  I was just frustrated and confused as to why we went from happy and seeing each other to a few texts throughout the day and cancelled plans.  I felt blown off without much of an explanation other than his work was getting busier, he was coaching at school daily and had sports with his boys at night.  Okay fine, that makes sense but what didn't quite work for me was on his no kids, no coaching, no work weekends, he still didn't have time for us.  I finally asked him if he just wanted to end things and part ways since he was "so busy".  He told me that he was sorry and didn't want it to be over and would work on fitting me into his life.  I was happy to hear this and believed it would change.  Wrong again Christy!  One week later and nothing had changed other than my frustration meter which went up several degrees.  Then another week went by and we had a long talk on the phone where I said that it's clear he is too busy for this relationship and in turn he convinced me that things were going to get back to normal and the last thing he wants is us to split then concluded by apologies and promises.  You guessed it, one week later and still nothing changed!


After a few weeks of not seeing each other passed, he promised to spend Saturday with me.  Yay, finally!  Saturday morning rolled around and he called saying he had to go on a job and was sorry but he would make it up to me on Sunday.  Against my better judgement, I agreed to it and then didn't hear from him until late that night when he text to say goodnight.  On Sunday morning, I woke up like a kid on Christmas.  I was really excited to see him and vowed not to give him any crap about his recent absence in my life.  I was just going to enjoy our time together.  Well friends, that day of enjoyment did not happen.  Brady called and was engaging in small talk then shared that he couldn't sleep the night before because he was torn about "us".  He went on to say that he doesn't have time in his life for me anymore and that I deserve someone who makes me a priority and has time to care about me.  Ouch!  I stayed silent as he proceeded to tell me that he would've called it quits sooner but struggled with the idea that if he let me go, then someone else would scoop me up and that was an unsettling thought for him.  Poor guy.  He asked me to say something and I told him that there was no point in saying anything, what's done is done.  So all I could say was goodbye.

If you are reading this thinking that there must be something missing from this story and surely two people don't go from bliss to suddenly too busy to breakup in the blink of an eye without a good reason, then that makes two of us.  Is it possible that one's life gets that hectic that they don't have time for the other?  Was there another woman?  Did he simply just lose interest?  I have no idea.  All I know is that I may never know.

Like Queen once said, another one bites the dust.  Instead of a night out with girlfriends, cocktails and rich food I have chosen to indulge my dear friends with another bite of my pathetic life.  Feel free to thank me as I finish off my bottle, er uh I mean glass of wine.

You are welcome!