Monday, December 20, 2010

From A Distance.

Working retail full time during the holiday season is seriously cutting into my social life.  Not only does it severely cut into the time that I have to put myself into awkward dating situations, it also limits the time that I have to write about my awkward dating situations.

However, luckily I had a Saturday night off, and was able to make it out for KD's going away party.  Nothing can spice up a single guy's dating life like a party in East Nashville with a room mostly full of the gays.

The night stated off like any other party night, my drink was full and I was mingling with the crowd.  I was enjoying conversation, flip cup, and a bit of dancing.  Suddenly my phone was blowing up with multiple text messages from another guest at the party.  It turns out that some guy I had chatted with over the summer, but never actually met in person, was in attendance at the party as well and had spotted me on the dance floor.  I quickly glanced around the room to see if I could spot the guy who was admiring from afar. I really was not having any luck, but the text messages kept on coming.  In a room full of gays, everyone is text messaging, Facebooking, or Tweeting...all of the time.  Everywhere I looked, someone was fiddling with their phone, so figuring out who was texting me was going to be like finding me at a party without a drink.

I actually get really uncomfortable in these sorts of situations.  I don't like being admired from afar while being messaged about it.  It crosses the line from admiration and tip-toes on becoming an episode of Dateline's 'To Catch A Predator'.  My mysterious texter was not giving up any hints, but was claiming to be too shy to approach me to say hello.  Apparently I do not recall what Mystery Man looks like whatsoever because I really could not determine who he was but he had a good view of me, and on top of that, I was entirely too sober for this game...this was playing waaaayyy too hard to get, even for my taste.

With the stalker-esque messages filling up my inbox, I was starting to become annoyed.  However, as my annoyance was peaking someone actually did come up to say hello and introduce himself...in person.    I began chatting with someone new, and decided that if Mystery Man wanted to say hello to me that badly, he could grow a pair and come say hi...sans cell phones.  I sparked up convo with a new guy, but quickly found out he wasn't any more exciting than Mystery Man.  He was incredibly soft spoken, almost awkwardly so, and seemingly quite shy as well.  I am neither of those things, so I need someone who is on level with me in that department.  We soon ran out of things to talk about and began to make extremely idle chit chat.  I was quickly losing interest in this conversation as well...and the deal breaker came when he told me that he was studying to be an actor.  At this point in time I needed another refill and to find someone entertaining to talk to.

Just as I was trying to come up with an excuse to exit this conversation, and I must have looked as though I were struggling to leave an uncomfortable situation, I caught the eye of a yet another guy.  He must have noticed the angst on my face, and stepped in to relieve me from the conversation that I apparently could not get myself out of.

I gave up trying to figure out who the Mystery Man was and with the other conversation over, I could now focus on the one who saved me.  With a new drink in hand, I was able to chat it up with this new guy.  His dark hair and eyes coupled with a killer smile caught my attention, and oddly enough, he seems to be just as big of a sarcastic smart ass as I am.  It wasn't long before he was matching my snarky remarks, and was even able to one up me with the sharp tongue.  That's a rare find, I thought for sure I was one of a kind.

In just the span of an hour, I went through two guys and was onto the third, but I suppose the first one doesn't really count since his identity was never revealed.  This was a mini speed dating party apparently, but I think I was the only one going through guys like I was going through my cup of beer.  I spent the rest of the evening chatting with the Smart Ass, and we ended up exchanging numbers as well.

As the night drew to a close, and I had moved from beer to Jack and Coke, Smart Ass wanted to know who was taking who home.  Since I love having the upper hand in any situation and I like my own bed,  I decided The Attic would be where I was sleeping...he could join if interested, but it wasn't about to be a hookup.

At the end of the night, I took interest in the one who had the balls to just walk up and say hello, keep the conversation exciting, and had the wit to keep me in check, and frankly, predators and aspiring actors aren't my cup of tea.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The Letter K.

Today's post is brought to you by the letter K.

I am guilty of sending that one text message, containing one single letter, that can signify the end of any potential dating interests.  I am usually not a fan of one word text messages, but one letter messages are even worse.  And in the world of dating and text messaging, getting a single 'k' as a reply is just about relationship end-all.  It's quite dreadful.

At present I am not in a relationship.  I have been chatting with a few people here and there...mostly to keep my options open.  I am not one to put all my eggs in one basket.  I go on dates should the situation arise, but mostly just chatting with some people for the time being.  However, there comes a time through all of the chatting when action does need to be taken.  I have been chatting with one guy in particular for a bit now, and have actually hung out with him a few times.  We've never been on a formal date, mostly just grabbing coffee and hanging out at his place for the evening.  I could take or leave the causal the hanging out, but an actual date would have been nice too.  Lately the chatting has been losing the fun and flirtatiousness that most pre-dating banter includes, and all of my invitations for dates ranging from Whiskey Kitchen, a stroll in downtown Franklin, or a homemade dinner have fallen on deaf ears.  Each suggestion of a date night is met with an excuse as to why that night will not work out.

I get that it's the holiday season, and people are busy with their lives and such...but at the rate I was going, I was batting 0-7 a week.  Without getting any inclination that a future date night was in store, and I hate being strung along, I was becoming a bit annoyed.

Once again I asked if he were free for the evening, and he said that he didn't know, and wasn't sure if he were in the mood for a date night.

As I said, I don't like to be strung along.   If you aren't interested, just say so.  It won't hurt my feelings if you're just upfront and honest about it.  Don't keep me guessing and even more so, wasting my time.  There are plenty of fish in the sea, so I need to get back out there ASAP if this isn't going to work out.

After the uncertain text message I was at my wit's end.  Trying not to be rude or snarky, I simply replied with: K

In my opinion, 'k' is the worst text message you can get.  Personally, I would hate it if someone were to send it to me.  That one single letter can end an entire pre-dating flirtatious relationship, or what's left of one.  It implies no information other than, "I'm extremely annoyed" or "We're done with this."  'K' is a very different response than 'ok', the two are not the same at all.  'Ok' implies acknowledgement, and perhaps even agreement, whereas 'k' is kinda bitchy.  Much as I predicted, no reply text followed after that one.  Roughly 24 hours later a text message came along asking how my day was going, but by then the damage had been done.  You weren't interested, and I lost my interest.  Moving on.

It looks like it's back to the drawing board, so hopefully Santa got the wish list I posted. So far not having a date for the holidays has saved me some cash on Christmas gifts, that's a just a bit more money A-Lo and I can spend on ourselves at the Whiskey Kitchen, and frankly if you get a message from me that just says 'k', don't bother texting again.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

My Christmas List.

Dear Santa, 

I have been mostly good all year.  I am a law abiding and tax paying citizen.  Furthermore, I recycle as often as I can, I am well educated, in decent shape, fairly attractive, and incredibly outgoing.  I do not lie, cheat, or steal.  I work very hard for everything that I have, and I strive to be as best as I can in all that I do.  With that being said, my Christmas list is very small this year.

First and foremost, I would really like to have a Kitchen Aid mixer, preferably in pistachio green.  This should not be too difficult of a request to fulfill, and I would be ecstatic to find this under the Christmas tree on December 25. 

Second, and this request may be a bit more difficult, but I would very like a decent date.  At this point, it does not even need to be incredible or even good...it can just be mediocre.  However, there are some stipulations, I'd like the date to have the following qualities:

-Roughly my age, within 5 years.
-Roughly my height and build, and for reference 5'8" with a 36 inch waist is not considered 'average'.
-Educated beyond a high school diploma.
-Their own car and a job.
-The ability to use your, you're, they're, their, there, it's and its correctly.
-A witty and sarcastic sense of humor, I need someone to keep me in check.
-Someone who can sit through a college football and/or basketball game...bonus if they enjoy Michigan State at least half as much as I do.
-Some who enjoys cold beer and whiskey, as I have a new found love for the Whiskey Kitchen, and they would have to frequent it with me.
-Someone fairly active to run with, because I plan to run the Music City Half Marathon in the spring.
-Fairly easy on the eyes would be great, preferably dark haired.
-A nonsmoker would be nice as well.

Those are just the basics, the minor details can be worked out later.

Santa, I don't think this should be too difficult.  I've already weeded out half of Nashville through my dating profiles, so I know that I don't want anyone from a missed connection, who could legally be considered a 'little person', who watches Michigan football or who speaks in Ebonics.  I also don't care for anyone into vampires.    

I am not too picky, I just have a few simple requests.  If Santa can travel around the entire world in one night, surely he can find me a decent date that fits my criteria.  I realize it is much easier said than done, but after all it's Santa, and frankly it seems like I'll just have to enjoy a pistachio green Kitchen Aid mixer.    

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Lost In Translation.

I spent roughly 100K on my education....give or take a few dollars here or there, and I will be paying student loans until I am about 138 years old.  When looking for a date, I don't necessarily expect someone to have collected as many degrees as I have, though I would prefer, at the least, a BS.  Now there are always exceptions to this rule of mine, and call me picky, but I do require working knowledge of basic sentence structure.

I logged onto one of the sites I frequent and had the following gem of a conversation with a 19 year old, who at 225 lbs and 48 inch waist describes himself as 'average' body type.

His profile headline states:  "dis ya boii big d tryna get n to sum hit me up"


With an introduction like that, how could I say no to any sort of interaction?  The conversation proceeded as follows:


Big D:  wad up
Me:  Nothing is up.
Big D:  lol y yu say id like dat
Me: Well I wasn't sure if you meant "what's up?"
Big D: well wyd
Me: What?


Already this conversation was off to an amazing start. Nothing turns me on more than sentences made up of fake words and lacking all grammar and punctuation, but let's continue...


Big D: what you doing
Me: I'm just trying to figure out what your messages say, I don't speak acronyms too well. Other than that, I just finished dinner. What are you doing?
Big D: nothing i am trying to find someone to chill wit for the nite
Me: Ahh, ok.


For a moment I was holding out hope that he did actually know how to type formulate sentences, when I asked him what he was doing, he was able to reply with a semi-coherent phrase. Then I get this...


Big D: wea uy live out east
Me: Your vocabulary is amazing.
Big D: lol y yu say dat
Me: I'm not even sure if your last message was in English, let alone if it were a question or a statement, and I have no idea what it was supposed to say. "Y", "yu", and "dat" are not words.


Seriously? Seriously? Why is this the type of person I attract?


Big D: where do you live out east
Me: I don't live "out east", I live on the east side of town.
Big D: me 2 do yu stay alone
Me: No, I have roomates.
Big D: do they know about you


I knew exactly what he was getting at, but I decided just to be a smartass and give him a hard time.


Me: Know what about me? I'm not a stow-away. They are aware that I occupy living space with them.
Big D: you messin wit dudes
Me: At the moment, I am not messing with anything, but yes they are aware.
Big D: aw ok, do yu have plans tonite?


Even if I didn't have plans this evening, I sure wouldn't let him know that.


Me: Yes.
Big D: i wanted to come chil wit you
Me: You don't even know me.
Big D: i read your profile & wanted to come get to know more about you


How did Big D manage to do a complete one-eighty, and pull a fully coherent sentence out of seemingly thin air?? I was blown away when he threw this curve ball at me.


Me: Ahh, well thanks, I'm flattered.
Big D: so can i come over


Whoa buddy, just because you started typing correctly does not mean I am about to invite you over.


Me: No.


And that is where the conversation ended, for obvious reasons. Regardless of my outrageously overpriced education, I expect you to be able to speak and type correctly. I don't think it is unreasonable to ask of a date to be able to use actual words in a sentence, I really don't think that should be considered being picky at all. Decoding what Big D was saying was more difficult than the analogy section on the GRE, and at the end I wasn't getting an exceptional standardized test score, but instead learning to interpret Ghetto-ese. I feel as though it would take more effort to type incorrectly than to just do it the right way. I worked really hard to go through school, I love proper grammar and prose, and frankly, I'd rather be picky than ghetto.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Meat Market.

Yesterday afternoon I traded my stone age-esque phone in and upgraded to a Blackberry.  I now get to see what it's like to have every social networking site at my fingertips at all times.  I admit that I am not very progressive when it comes to my choice for cellular phone devices.  I really only need some sort of apparatus to send a text message, because I'm not one to spend much time even speaking on the phone.

As I was becoming acquainted with my new toy, I was discovering a whole new world of  interesting things.  My phone was now linked to Facebook, Twitter, and FourSquare...what more could I possibly need?  Supposedly Match.com and Chemisty.com have mobile applications as well, but since I am not even a fan of using them on my laptop, I sure do not need them on my phone, so I opted against downloading those.  However, my friend Asshat introduced me to the mobile app known as Grindr.

Grindr is a virtual meat market.  It is just a page full of guys in your immediate area, arranged in order of distance from closest to furthest from you.  The profile is quite simple, it only consists of a picture, age, height, weight, and how many feet away they are located.  There isn't any messing around with likes and dislikes, or things such as relationship essentials.  It is probably the most superficial way to meet someone, and certainly used almost solely for hook-up purposes, but perhaps something decent will come of it.  Click on a picture and initiate a conversation...that's about all there is to it.

However, if you think about it, scanning the bar to catch someone's eye is pretty superficial too.  If you see someone you're attracted to, you might go up and say hello, but if you aren't attracted to them, no matter how wonderful of a personality they may have, you probably aren't giving them a second glance. It is totally judging a book by it's cover.  Most people don't go out with a list of things they are interested in to hand out to people at the bar or the coffee shop, so why do I need a list of things on a dating site?  Grindr cuts to the chase.  If you're good looking, around an age I'd be interested in, and close by, let's chat...we can deal with the details later.

I only had a brief sampling of Grindr last night, as I was too focused on watching Glee and putting the finishing touches on the Christmas decorations in The Attic.  Obviously when I am sitting in The Attic, I won't have much use for Grindr, but it could come in handy on the nights that I am out at bars other than Tribe...it may even be useful when I'm at work, I am sure Cool Springs is full of homos.

Grindr is just one more tool to add to my arsenal of social networking sites, and frankly I'm all for social networking!

Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Perfect Date.

Yesterday, I got let go from work a few hours early, which is a rare and unusual occurrence on a Saturday afternoon during the Holiday Season.  I did not have anything planned for the afternoon, but I sure did not want to waste this wonderful gift that had been bestowed upon me.  It was a beautiful late November afternoon, with a brisk chill in the air, and the sun shining.  It was perfect for an outdoor date, and autumn outdoor dates are my favorite...unless it's a trip to the zoo in the late spring.

Not wanting to waste such a nice day, I checked in the with the boy I've been chatting with (whom still shall not be named just yet), but he was booked with school work for the day.  Determined to go on a date, and not be resigned to just sitting in The Attic for the rest of the day, I made the very best of my situation at hand:

I called up A-Lo to see what she had in store for the afternoon.

A-Lo, being single and quite a catch, much like myself, was free for the day as well.  I headed over to her apartment just in time to see the Spartans claim their share of the Big Ten Championship, and shortly after that we were off on our Afternoon Date Adventure.

We were casually, yet stylishly layered up, in plaids, sweaters, scarves, puffer vests, and aviators, and ready for the perfect weather and our perfect date.  We choose to explore the incredibly adorable and quaint world of Downtown Franklin.  It was a perfect little downtown, decked out for the holidays, with each shop front bursting with lights, christmas trees, shiny ornaments, and gift ideas.  A-Lo and I meandered down the street, and made sure to stop in each and every antique, decor, and knick-knack shop that lined the road.  Our date included stopping at the Irish pub for a bite to eat, before continuing to weave our way in and out of the shops.  Of course any perfect outdoor November date needs to include a stop in a coffee shop, so we hit up Starbucks for a warm drink to tide us over as we continued to explore.

It really was the perfect setting for the closest thing I have had to a perfect date in quite awhile...even if it was with a girl.  It was a beautiful brisk day spent in a picturesque downtown, some of my favorite things!  A-Lo and I decided we must just be too good of catches for people to handle, so we'll just date each other for the time being.  Me not being overly flamboyant, and able to call a football game, and A-Lo not being overly high maintenance, yet knows how to accessorize, we make a good couple.

As the sun was setting, and the shops were closing, we made our way back to A-Lo's apartment.  With noting having much else planned, but still the itch to do something, we called up our friend, TriSarahTopss, to meet up with us.  TriSarahTopss came over with wine in hand, and our group expanded to three.  After awhile, TriSarahTopss friend met up with us at A-Lo's apartment and the party was just getting started.  TriSarahTopss' friend just so happened to be a homo as well, and almost immediately the fawning over every male he could think of ensued.  I couldn't help but think how annoying this would get if it kept up much longer, and sure enough it continued on all night.  I am not one to fawn and drool over anyone, I have yet to meet someone who truly takes my breath away because of their devastatingly good looks.  I do think people are attractive or handsome, and if I am interested in you, I will make it known to you how I feel about your looks, but I very rarely refer to anyone as 'hot'.  

We finished off the wine, and the night was still young so A-Lo and TriSarahTopss decided to introduce to the Nashville gem known as Whiskey Kitchen.

A hip, trendy, whiskey bar.

I was in heaven, and this truly was the perfect date.

The four of us grabbed a table and ordered whiskey sours by the pitcher, and now with a room full of people, TriSarahTopss' friend was eye-raping everyone in site.  A-Lo and I were not about to take part in this activity, mostly because it's annoying.  After several attempts to guess which guy in the bar would be my type, or who I thought was hot or not, I had to finally tell the Homo-Friend to just give up.

Next thing A-Lo, TriSarahTopss, and I knew, we were the third, fourth and fifth wheels to a date Homo-Friend had set up...at our table.  It was almost as though we were inconveniencing this little date situation.  We suddenly were shunned from the group, but every once and awhile Homo-Friend's date included us in quite an elaborate story involving his grandmother, pills, addictions, and possibly the police on Thanksgiving day.

I pointed out to A-Lo that we were all a fairly attractive group of people and even Ro-Ro had shown up after work to join us, but the Date just did not fit in with us.  I would be all for it if your date had been Jake Gyllenhaal, but wasn't really feeling the addition of Roseanne Bar to the group.  Rumor has it that Homo-Friend and the Roseanne look alike needed to jump ship from our table because A-Lo and I were being too judgemental....so be it.

The night came to a close, and it was time to head home.  My perfect date was coming to a close.  I had very much enjoyed the time spent with A-Lo, TriSarahTopss, and Ro-Ro, and frankly, perhaps we'd just be better off dating each other...we clearly know how to have a good time.  

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Open Season.

I survived my Super Awesome Spartan Football Tailgate Birthday Roadtrip Extravaganza, and due to an unforeseen situation, I had to make the roadtrip alone.  If nothing else, a date would have been nice just to accompany me on the 9 hour roadtrip up to Michigan.  However, that is now water under the bridge, I made the trip solo, and had one hell of a time back in East Lansing with my closest friends.  Long story short, it was an incredible weekend with my friends, plenty of drinks, and a Spartan victory.

The solo drive up gave me plenty of time to think.  At this point in time, I am a free-agent.  I have no strings attached to anyone or anything, especially not to a Missed Connection from a Starbucks drive-thru, though I have been talking a bit with a new fellow who shall remain nameless at the present time.

I have mixed feelings about being single and heading into the holiday season.  I have been single for 2 years now, and even when I was in a relationship (perhaps I'll blog about it one day) I didn't actually do any couple sort of things for the holidays, or even receive any special gifts for Christmas.  On one hand I think it would be great to be in a relationship at Christmas time, picking out a gift for a special someone actually does seem appealing to me.  On the other hand, I'm broke, so not having a special someone to pick out a gift for will save me quite a bit of money!

Thinking back to how I spent my Christmases, and even my birthdays, with my then boyfriend, and how things ended between us...which was hours after my 24th birthday, I should be completely jaded to relationships and Christmas, and the combination of the two should set me over the edge.  But I am not jaded, or over the edge.  The hopeless romantic in me is dying to actually date someone.  Not just random dinner dates, or coffee here and there, and I sure am not in the mood for any sort of buddy to mess around with...I mean actually date someone.  I want to cook dinner, have morning coffee, and buy gifts just because, but an especially nice gift for Christmas.

Let's get serious here, heading into the holiday season, I need to ramp up my dating efforts.  It's open season to find someone...who wouldn't want to fall in love during the holidays?  I cannot possibly be a handsome, well educated, outgoing guy who can bake from scratch and loves a college football game with just a Nugget and a closeted Missed Connection interested in him.  This just will not suffice.

Silverado pulled the "let's stay friends" card, and let's be honest...that probably will not suffice either.  I am not friends with any of my exes, and though I cannot compare Silverado to an actual 'ex', I don't think much of a friendship will surface from the situation at hand.  Like I said before, he's a great guy, but I barely have time to see the friends that I left back in Michigan, let alone make visits across the state to see new friends.

Now, I am not desperate by any means.  I enjoy my free-agent status, I can basically do what I want, without having someone to report to.  I am completely content with being single, I'm simply saying that a realtionship...when it's right....would be nice.  I'm not one to force anything, the perk to Silverado being so far away was that we were able to actually get to know each other because all we could do was talk...jumping into bed right away wasn't an immediate option.  It just came time that we were running things to talk about because we weren't able to do anything together...our separate lives were running out of mutual ground.  I am not about to rush into something just for the sake of being in a relationship, I'd love to make a friend that progresses from there.  The more that I think about it, I don't think anyone could rush into a relationship with me...I am a bit stubborn, sometimes off the wall, hard to handle, and frankly, loving me is a long shot gamble.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Moving On.

It is now the eve of my Super Awesome Spartan Football Birthday Tailgate Roadtrip Extravaganza, and I was unsuccessful in finding someone to be my date.  Silverado will not be accompanying me for the weekend trip up to Michigan, and after much deliberation, mostly on my own behalf, but a bit mutually as well, things will not be progressing any further either.

The long-distance thing was just not working out for either of us.  I have my life in Nashville, and Silverado has his life 500 miles away, and at this time, it's just not in the cards to cross paths.  I am all for putting effort into a long-distance relationship, but ours was entirely long-distance.  Though it wasn't actually anything official, it was severed by a 5 hour commute.  There aren't any hard feelings, as I still feel like he is a great guy...a good catch for anyone who lives in the same zip-code, or even time zone as he does.  It was just my luck to meet an educated guy who was easy on the eyes and incredibly nice and who just so happened to be so far away.  With November about to draw to a close, and the holidays quickly approaching, there haven't been any plans made to see each other anytime soon, so it would just be better not to entertain the idea that a 5 hour commute is feasible.

Otherwise, I am incredibly excited for my trip up to Michigan, and my friend Asshat has been so generous as to donate his time to experience the 8th wonder of the world, known as Spartan Football in East Lansing, and make the trip with me.  

The Silverado saga draws to a close, but who knows, maybe I'll find myself out in East Tennessee one day, or he could end up in Nashville.  If nothing else, I did make a friend out of this situation, and frankly there are plenty of fish in the sea...for both of us.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Junk Mail.

The Missed Connection has been fizzling out, mostly because he is a 41 year old, possibly married, extremely closeted, allegedly 'curious' creep.  None of that sounds appealing to me, in the slightest bit.  I asked Missed Connection to send me a picture, because he obviously got a better glimpse of me than I did of him, and when 'chatting' with someone, I liked to put a face with a name.  

Missed Connection responded that he could not send pictures via email because it just was not safe for him.  He is just too super discreet to show his face picture, but asked me if there were any other pictures I would be interested in seeing.  What other pictures would I possibly be interested in seeing?  Usually in the gay world, 'other pictures' are pictures considered to be NSFW.  His exact words were:

"I am 41 and a bit your senior. LOL.

I am not even sure if you liked what you saw in your side mirror. I am 6'3" 215' slim workout but not a buff gym rat kind. 


I am good looking at a minimum, but that is in the eye of the viewer.  

Do you want to exchange any other pics?"   

I am not a proponent of 'other pictures', mostly because I know what a penis looks like, I don't need to see yours...and if I were that interested in seeing one, I could just look down.  This really was junk mail, and it is a shame my gmail spam filter didn't do a better job of weeding it out.  It's amazing to me how quick homos are to show off their junk to strangers online.  I wonder if this sort of thing happens in the straight dating world, like on eHarmony.com.  Did Joe Fox send a junk pic to Kathleen Kelly in the romantic flick, "You've Got Mail", and if so, did she find it flattering and realize that is what it took to win her heart?

I really did just want to see this guy's face, because I apparently did not notice, in the very brief glimpse that I got of him, that he was in his 40's.  And I really  want to know what he looks like, because I frequent the Starbucks on Carothers where this chance encounter first took place, and I'd like to know if he's there, so I can avoid him.  I guess if I see a Jeep in the parking lot or drive-thru, I know not to go there.  Also, what does it mean to be good looking at a minimum?  

Once again, I rejected his picture offer and he replied with:

"It was an open ended question.   I didn't mean to imply anything."

Perhaps he really just wants to show pictures of a recent trip he took to Mount Rushmore or the Grand Canyon, but even so, I'm not interested in that either.

It's safe to say that Missed Connection is out of the running for my Michigan State Football Tailgate Birthday Road Trip Extravaganza, unless he wants to wear a bag over his head so people cannot identify him.  Call me shallow, but I do not have time to deal with a closeted faceless man and his junk pictures, who I am guessing is really just looking to get his rocks off.  I am disappointed with my Missed Connection experience, I was hoping for a bit more, and frankly, it was less than I expected and nothing I wanted.  

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Happy Birthday to Me!

OkCupid.com wished me a Happy 26th Birthday this morning.  I am completely content with turning another year old, because in my opinion I am one year closer and a few grey hairs to becoming a stunning silver fox.  I'd like to have a full head of silver hair by time I am 30, a la Anderson Cooper.  But after wishing me a Happy Birthday, OkCupid's email says:

"Still single? Come check out your matches and find the men who want to meet you for your birthday!"


What the hell is that about OkCupid??  Yes, I am still single, thank you for pointing that out, but from what I can tell, there is not a line of people dying to meet me for my birthday.  Perhaps I'd have better luck on Craigslist with something like that.  I don't have a problem with getting older, I do have a problem with the perpetual single-ness that I have been experiencing, and I don't need an online dating website to bring that to my attention. 


Having a date on my birthday would have guaranteed company for lunch or dinner, but perhaps I'll just treat myself at my favorite Mexican cantina anyway.  I'm a grown man, surely I can handle having lunch on my own, and if nothing else, Jose can be my date in the form of a delicious margarita, on the rocks, with salt.  


The older I get and the more profiles I encounter online, the more I wonder why these people attempt to shave years off of their ages.  Some people really do look a bit younger than what they actually are, and I mean a bit...just a bit.  Chances are if you are 40, you still aren't passing for 32.  If you tell me that you are 32 when you're actually ten years older, I just might think you've had a rough life in the fast lane and should probably tone it down a bit.  Plus if you're willing to 'fib' about your age, what else are you covering up?  If you're older, just admit it.  With age comes experience and maturity....sometimes.  Perhaps that's what I am looking for.  I don't think I'd care to date a 21 year old at this point in my life, but a 30 year old sounds good to me!  


I have decided that from now on I will start telling people that I am older than what I actually am.  I know that I can't pass for a 21 year old anymore, but if I told you that I was 32, you'd probably think I was aging incredibly well.  I had a blast being 25, but here's to turning 26, and frankly, I am ready to take on another year!  

Sunday, November 7, 2010

You've Got Mail.

My Missed Connection has been responding faster than I can keep up.  He is blowing up my inbox.

Most recently I have received this correspondence:

"No pressures here either and I agree that maybe meeting a new friend is cool.    Are you bi too?    How old are you?   I remember how sexy you looked, maybe I was feeling extra horny that day but you certainly caught my eye.  Have you connected with a guy before?   I have another married buddy of mine and we get together from time to time to play around.

I hope this isn't being to forward and I am certainly not saying that this might be your interests, but that is cool if it was"



It figures that this could not just be someone interested in a grabbing coffee at the Starbucks in which this 'connection' took place.  After reading through this gem of a message, my mind was flooded with many many thoughts.  


First, according to his last message he was straight, or bi-curious.  But now he's telling me how sexy I looked.  Why would a straight man tell another man how sexy he looked?  And also, I was behind my sunglasses, in a car ahead of him.  He could only see me through my sideview mirror.  For all he knows I could just have been a torso sitting on a stack of phone books in my car.  He didn't actually see me standing or anything.  


Secondly, I am not sure what his use of the phrase 'connected with a guy' means?  Like have I had a missed connection with a guy before?  No I have not, but now that I have, it is not living up to its expectations.  Have I had a relationship with a guy before?  Well yes I have had that, but that too didn't live up to its expectations either.


Third, it takes a classy gentleman to voice how horny he is to a complete stranger.


A red flag was raised when he came right out and said that he has a married friend, whom I can only assume is married to a woman, that he likes to fool around with.  I'm not ever looking for just a hookup with someone, but apparently my Missed Connection is bordering on the line of home-wrecker.


In closing he hopes he was not too forward by telling me he assists in the cheating of a man and his wife, and almost implies that he hopes a hookup will come from this. 


Deep down I was perhaps hoping that a Missed Connection would play out like a fairy tale love story.  Well scratch that, that just sounds stupid.  Perhaps it would be nice for a Missed Connection to be a friendship that lead to an exciting relationship.  For some reason, a hookup in the Starbucks drive-thru just does not sound as appealing to me.  In the movies this would totally have been two star-crossed lovers sharing a spark over coffee and going through great lengths to reconnect.  In my world, I come across a Jeep driving man, claiming to be 'curious' who probably just wants a piece of ass. 


The more I think about the whole concept of a Missed Connection, the more bewildered I become.  I could maybe, possibly, understand if this guy had been my barista at Starbucks, and after some light conversation which would have included him taking my drink ordered, decided that we could grab coffee sometime...that would perhaps make sense.  It doesn't make any sense to me that you could see a complete stranger in the car ahead of you, have no interaction whatsoever, and decide that you really wanted to meet up if for nothing more than just a hookup.  


Now I realize this falls on me too, as I actually replied to his ad, but I was just so damn excited to have a Missed Connection!  At this stage in the game I have no intentions with meeting up with Missed Connection, but email correspondences shall continue until I can at least get a picture of him, after all I would like to know what this fool looks like.  I'll try and get some personal information, perhaps his name or something so I can do some light Facebook-stalking, not that I have ever done that before to anyone, but inquiring minds need to know whom I am chatting with, and frankly, you never know what kind of dirt I could uncover.







      

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Starbucks - Carothers/Cool Springs Sat AM

After Halloween, this week got kind of crazy with work and finalizing birthday plans for my Nashville party and my Football Tailgate Roadtrip Extravaganza.  I was originally working on a post to pick up where I left off from Saturday night but as I was typing it up, I began to realize it just was not as funny as I thought it was in the moment.  It started to become one of those stories that you had to be there for, or would be a bit more humorous if I were to just tell you in person as opposed to typing it all out.


I was thinking that I was hurting for some interesting material, as I have hit another lull in the online dating world.  Nothing too thrilling or off the wall to write about.  Things with Silverado are kind of at a plateau at the moment, so there is not much to report on that front.  So when I have nothing else going on, one of my favorite past times is to read through the Missed Connections on Craigslist.  Whenever I am a bit bored with the events of my life, I know that I can find something interesting on Craigslist to lift my spirits because there sure are some crazy ass people out there.


With a coffee in my hand, I was just lightly skimming through the Missed Connections, and it actually has been a secret wish of mine to have one written about me.  So there I was, toggling between Farmville and Missed Connections while enjoying my morning coffee, and a post caught my eye.


It was titled:  "Starbucks - Carothers/Cool Springs Sat AM"


As I read the title I thought to myself...Hmmm, well I was at Starbucks on Saturday morning, and the more I thought about it, I did notice the guy behind me in line at the drive-thru.  But what were the chances that he would run home to post a Missed Connection, and what would be the chances of me reading the Missed Connections and stumbling across it, and on top of that, we did not have any actual interaction whatsoever.  I was in my car and he was in his car.


I clicked on the title to read the post:


"I was behind you in line at Starbucks. Seemed like we kept catching each other's eyes in the mirrors. You had some nice sunglasses.  This is probably a long shot, but if you see this let me know what college lettering is on the back of your car and if you remember.. what was I driving."


Hmm.  Odd.  I thought about the events of Saturday morning, and then checked my bank account to see if I actually had been at Starbucks that day.  Sure enough I had, and the more I thought about, there was a gentleman in a Jeep behind me.  I initially noticed his car first because the side view mirrors were tricked out with chrome trim, and actually the glare of the sunlight off of the chrome was a bit blinding.


Well I was at Starbucks, rocking a pretty sweet pair of shades, in the drive-thru, with my alma mater's logo across the back window of my car.  Obvi this post was about me, and I could not be more thrilled.  This was like an early birthday gift!  Even if they guy turned out to be a totally jack-wad, at least I have my very own, legit, Missed Connection written about me!


Not expecting a whole lot, because there was a chance that it actually was not about me, I went out on a limb and replied to the post.  I simply said that I thought it was me he was writing about and I was in a sliver car with awesome sunglasses.  


Shortly after I sent the message, I got a reply:



"Hey guy.. I never thought that I would get a solid reply on the post. It was actually the first time that I ever posted a missed connections. I have read them before, but mostly for the comedy factor. 

You got it right, so either your that dude or someone that should play the lottery because your a good guess. 

I am not even sure why I posted to be honest. Guess that I was just curious. I did find myself staring at you for some reason and i think it was more than the fact you were the car in front of me. LOL. I am not a gay dude, maybe curious or feeling a little Bi-curious. Consider myself straight but I do have thoughts. 

What's your thoughts about this?

Tomorrow is TGIF and I am ready for the work week to be over."

Well my thoughts are there are a few grammar and spelling errors that stick out like a sore thumb.  My secondary thoughts are that that was a lot of work to go through for someone who was just curious and considers himself to be straight.  I can't help but think that he's not as straight as he is claiming to be, but I don't think I am in the mood to deal with a flake.  A message like this really confirms that people on Craigslist are a bit crazy.

But of course I replied to this email as well, so we shall see how this little adventure plays out.  If nothing else it will provide for some good material!  

I will try to keep this story as up to date as possible, but it's my birthday weekend, and frankly, I've already started to celebrate.


Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Adventures of Quailman: Part I

Sorry for the delays in posting, but it was been quite a crazy few days.  After a fun filled evening with the Golden Girls, it was Halloween weekend.  So much happened this weekend that my Halloween recap will be covered in two posts!  

Saturday I had to work a few hours then came home in time to see my Spartans get their asses beat by Iowa.  My heart was broken, and the only outlet for my feelings was to throw on my Quailman costume and head to the bar to drink away my sorrows.  I was meeting my friend Asshat and his friends at Tribe for a bit of Halloween debauchery.  From the moment I walked in the door, people were loving my totally awesome Quailman costume...but how could you not love a 90's Nickelodeon super hero?  Also I think a lot of people enjoyed it because I had a pair of tighty whiteys on the outside of my shorts, which were actually incredibly uncomfortable but made my ass look great.

Tribe was packed for the Halloween event, and I was having a difficult time deciphering who was actually in a costume and who was just dressed for the evening.  Unlike the skanks from the night before, most homos aren't just 'Sexy (insert noun)' for a costume, some people actually do put a bit of thought into what they are dressing up as, and it almost always gives everyone a chance to dabble with a bit of drag, a set of wings, and a whole lot of glitter, if only for one night of the year.  And in my case, walking into a gay bar with white briefs on the outside of my shorts is a sure fire way to get some attention.  A few people were interested in knowing if those were my normal underwear...which they ARE NOT, they were strictly for the costume.

I was making my rounds at the bar and generally having a good time.  On one loop back from the bathroom, one of my biggest fears became a reality.  I was heading back to meet with Asshat, my drink in hand, when I was cornered by the Nugget.  In the back of my mind I knew that eventually he would find me at some bar in Nashville, and finally it happened.  I was completely thrown off guard by this sudden bombardment.  He had no problem just walking right up to me and saying "Hey, haven't we been chatting?"

After I looked around and noticed the voice was coming from 3 feet off the ground, I was not sure if it were appropriate to squat down to chat with him or not.  In my defense, I am twice his height and we were in a bar...I would have a hard time hearing someone who was standing at eye level with me, let alone someone down around my knees.

To clear things up, the Nugget and I have actually not been chatting.  To be exact, he has been emailing me and I have stopped responding...months ago.  All I could respond with was "Oh, hey, what's up?"  I am all for having the guts to approach an incredibly good looking guy at the bar, but only if that good looking guy hasn't shot you down numerous times before via email.

He told me how he saw me walk in and thought it was me, but couldn't be sure.  I obviously could not see him through the sea of people, but now was wishing I had picked a costume that included a mask.  I really was not up for small talk...no pun intended...and was trying to find my way out of this incredibly awkward situation.  He asked what I had been up to and if I were having a good time.  I was having a good time up until now, and quickly realized my drink was almost empty, because the shock of the situation forced me to shotgun my Jack and Coke.

Nugget then asked "Can I buy you something?  At least a drink?"  Normally I would be more than happy to let someone buy me a drink, but this time I took the high road...again, no pun intended...and politely declined his offer, mostly because I didn't want to continue chatting and wasn't entirely sure what 'something' entailed.  At the gay bar, an offer to buy a drink almost always comes with strings attached, and those were some strings I did not want to deal with.

The conversation weakly carried on for just a bit longer with him making reference to my underwear, but it felt like hours and after another offer for a drink I needed to channel a line from Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion.  I actually told the Nugget that I had cut my foot earlier and my shoe was filling with blood, so I needed to leave.  I hope you all can appreciate this brilliant escape tactic of mine, because it worked.  I was soon able to be reunited with my friends.

I made a few more laps that evening, and managed not to run into the Nugget again.  Finally it was time to go home, I had had my fair share to drink for the night and with no one of any interest offering to buy my drinks there wasn't much point in staying any longer, and frankly I did not want to risk any other awkward situations.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Stay Golden

This isn't so much of a dating post, but a bit more of a fantastic time I had last night.  My favorite Golden Girls from Michigan, accompanied by Mee-guel, were passing through Nashville on their way down to FL.  The Golden Girls consist of one of my besties from MI, her mother, and her grandmother.  My bestie is sort of Blanche, mom is a bit of Dorothy, and Grammie is a cross between Rose and Sohpia.  I started referring to them as the Golden Girls awhile back as they each have uncanny resemblances to the women of 80's television fame, but the nickname shall now stick after Grammie started referring to herself as Betty White...before we had even had any wine.

I always love visits from friends, especially this group of people.  I met up with them at their hotel on Music Row, and we were off to dinner.  Mee-guel had the honor of picking the restaurant, mostly because the rest of us were too indecisive to choose a place, and we ended up at the Tin Angel.  I had never been there before, but it looked decent, plus it was getting late for dinner and everyone was getting a bit hungry.  Of course there was a wait for a table, which lasted about an hour, but we'd be fine just as long as we had access to the bar.  I introduced Blance and Mee-guel to Yazoo beer, a Nashville favorite, and they seemed to generally enjoy it, however they were really aching for the nectar of the south known as PBR.

While we were waiting for the table, I ran into some of my Nashvillian friends who were also waiting, and some how we got into a conversation of the correct pronunciation and references of common items.  I do not care what anyone says, a Coke is a Coca-Cola, not whatever other soft drink you may be asking for.  If you want a Sprite, don't order a Coke, order a damn Sprite.

Anyway, as we were waiting we all started pounding back Yazoo and Cabernet.  It was going to be quite the exciting evening.  It was quite an eclectic crowd at the Tin Angel, but I was beginning to have a difficult time determining if people were in Halloween costumes, or just dressed like normally.  One girl was in a mess of tulle, perhaps in an attempt to be Lady Gaga, but really was just a tool.  An older woman at the bar probably wasn't in a costume, but had a delightful sequin top on, and Victoria Secret velour pants with PINK slapped across the butt.  From the get-go Blanche was not all impressed with what she was wearing, and it wasn't even a costume, so we came up with the plan that if all else fails, we she could just be badly dressed and I would be Clinton Kelly, however, compared to some of these people, we actually seemed a bit over dressed.

Dinner was fantastic, and Dorothy will have you know that this is the place to go for risotto.  We over indulged ourselves in entrees, desserts, and drinks, but it was all worth it.  We also had quite the conversations, ranging from the Nashville flood to menstruating.  Once dinner was over we had to return Betty White back to the hotel, but the rest of us were ready for Paradise Park and some PBR.

Upon getting into the bar we quickly took over the pool table.  Mee-guel and Dorothy are quite the pool sharks, whereas Blanche and I have quite a difficult time even trying to figure out how to hold the stick right.  Dorothy took me under her wing and was determined to coach me on how to shoot a decent game of pool, but I wasn't having any luck.  She told me that I need to be able to walk into any bar and be able to hold my own at whatever activity they offer, and I responded that I could sure hold my own when it came to drinking, and that was the most important activity at any bar I've ever been to.

Hours passed and we went through our fair share of pitchers of PBR and many games of pool.  I don't know what it is about it, but PBR just tastes so much sweeter on Broadway.  We managed to hold down the pool table the entire night, and made a few friends along the way.  I almost vomited when I looked up after my turn shooting and saw a couple making out on the couch at the end of the pool table.  First off, the couch is nastier than anything I have seem come out of frat house or a crack house, and secondly, the skank had about 12 inches of toilet paper stuck to her shoe that she had thrusted into the air as her man friend laid on top of her.  I'm pretty sure there may have been some penetration going on, and in my opinion, people like that are the reason there is a bedbug plague sweeping America.

During one round I just happened to look over my shoulder to notice a flannel wearing gentleman standing almost on top of me.  He seemed to be roughly my age and didn't have crazy eyes from what I could tell, but never once made a move or introduced himself.  For about 20 minutes, he just stood inches from me and smirked every time I glanced over.  I should probably check Missed Connections to see if he posted anything about me.

The highlight of the evening for Blanche and I was most definitely not struggling at pool, but instead judging every skanks' Halloween costume.  In my opinion, dressing as anything 'sexy' is not a costume, it's just you being a slut, and on top of that, if I have to ask what your costume is supposed to be, it probably isn't very good.

Eventually it was time to go home, and the bar kicked us out.  I had a great time with the Golden Girls and Mee-guel, and frankly, after a visit from them, Nashville will never be the same.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Fancy.

It has been quite an exciting and eventful weekend, so much so that I will have plenty of material for an entire week's worth of blogs.

Saturday morning was the 2nd Annual Grizzlies Red Dress Rampage...a 5k fun run pub crawl, all while wearing a red dress and benefiting the rugby team the Belcourt Theatre...who wouldn't be excited?  I had been looking forward to this event for months, and finally my stunning, full length, red sequin gown was prepared to make its debut.  I managed to find quite the gem on Ebay a couple of months ago, and it has been hanging up in the attic ever since, but now it was time to be unveiled.

A few things had to be finalized for the event before I could get dressed, so I packed up the gown and headed off with the Homeowner to set up for the race.  We ran a few quick errands then made it to the Belcourt Theatre to begin welcoming all of the Red Dressers.  Funny enough, the Belcourt was also hosting the stage version of 'Snow White', and dozens of small children showed up in princess dresses while dozens of men showed up in red dresses.  I can only imagine what those poor children thought.

After setting up, it was finally time to zip up my gown, polish my sequins, and lace up my running shoes.  I made quite the entrance in my circa 1986 pageant dress, which was complete with tasteful pearl accents.  It was such a hit of the event that I unanimously won the coveted Most Bejeweled 2010 award.  In my opinion, this is the award to win and probably on par with something like Best Actress or an Emmy...I can now join the company of Kathy Griffin or Sally Field.

It cost a lot to look this cheap.



As I was walking up to accept my award, my phone was blowing up with numerous text messages from people in the room who could not wait to congratulate me.  Since I was in a gown, with no pockets, my phone was tucked snugly away in the top of my dress and fervently vibrating against my chest.  I had no time to respond, I had a trophy to accept!  One of the texters actually couldn't even be bothered to speak to me to my face, but choose to text me things throughout the entire day.

Now it was time to take off and begin the race, after all, there was beer to drink!  The Red Dressers all lined up and took off down the streets of Nashville in a mad dash to the first bar.  It is quite liberating to run in traffic in a red gown, with the afternoon sun glistening off of the hundreds of sequins that made up my dress.  I also had a trophy that I now had to carry as I ran, but thankfully, it was quite similar to running with a relay baton...so I was able to make due.

The race was now well underway and the Yazoo beer was flowing.  At each stop, everyone wanted to get to know the now reigning Most Bejeweled 2010.  I had to make my rounds and greet my tens of fans, and even managed to snap a few pictures.  Someone was kind enough to tell me that I looked like Reba, specifically in the music video for 'Fancy', and I may or may not have replied with "Well I might have been born just plain white trash, but Fancy was my name!"  Along the way I even made a new friend, who was a fellow award winner herself.

Fresh off of our wins, basically pretty damn fabulous.



With each passing leg of the race, I began to notice an odd trend; the more beer consumed by some of the Red Dressers, the more interesting I became to them. However, there was a point in time when we had some sort of fling anyway, so it was somewhat of a delayed rekindling.  As enderaring as it may seem to once again become the interest of someone I've previously been interested in, it is actually not all that glamourous at all, mostly because I refuse to be my own sloppy seconds.

The last stop of the race was Cabana, and by now some of the Red Dressers were looking and acting like real hot messes.  I on the other hand, was able to maintain my composure, and the sequins held up much better than I had originally expected.  I thought for sure that I would be leaving a trail of red sequins throughout Hillsboro Village/Belcourt neighborhoods, and surprisingly enough, it really was not all that difficult to run in my dress.

Once again, I had to remind a certain rugger that we had in fact been on a date before, and that I was not about to make out in the middle of the bar with him.  He had a his chance.  As I was turning down awkward advances, the entire bar, all Red Dressers, broke out in a Glee 'Don't Stop Believin' sing along.  It was a wonderful, site for sore eyes and ears, awe-inspiring moment.

The event was a ton of fun and a huge success.  As the reigning Most Bejeweled 2010, I need to start looking for a dress for next year's race, it won't be easy to top what I wore this year, and frankly, life is a bit more fun when you wear a red dress.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Today I Wear Purple.

To honor the people who took their lives due to homophobic abuse and bullying today's post is not about my crazy dating life, but for anyone who might not have the chance to have a dating life of their own because of who they chose to date. 

I am lucky enough to have a wonderful group of friends and family who support me, for being me.  Sadly though, not everyone is as fortunate as I am, and there are people out there who may feel alone and as though they have nowhere to go.  In the wake of the recent and senseless teen suicides, more attention needs to be brought to the fact that we are all people, and we all should be able to love who we choose to.  No single person should feel ashamed or be bullied for being gay, lesbian, bi, or transgender, especially to the point where they feel the need to take their own life.  

I realize that I am not quite at the level of Carrie Bradshaw or Perez Hilton, though at times I would like to think that I am, but I do hope that somewhere, at least one person is reading this and realizes everything will be alright.  As alone as you may feel for being a bit different than everyone else, just know there is hope for you yet.  Suicide is not the answer, and sticking around for just one more day, week, or year can make all the difference.  Tomorrow you could meet your best friend or even the man or woman you spend the rest of your life with, but there is only one way to find out, and that's by being here and being you. 

Great change will not happen overnight, but by bits and pieces at a time.  8 years ago I had a secret that I could never share with anyone, but things started looking up as soon as I could accept it, and tell one person, and then another, and then a few more, and finally became comfortable with being myself.  There is nowhere to go from here but up, and frankly it gets better.   


Sunday, October 17, 2010

Miss December.

Friday evening was the Grizzlies' Red Dress Rampage Preview party, so after a long day at work, I was more than ready to head to the bar for a drink...or five.  

I decided to use my local celebrity status for a good cause, and partnered up with my new friend J to sell the Grizzlies 2011 Calendar.  A calendar featuring scantly clad rugby players was sure to be a hit in a bar full of men, and some lesbians, and some straight girls who brought along their 'straight' boyfriends for a birthday celebration.  J and I decided to have a friendly competition to see who could sell the most calendars between this.  I am always up for a good competition, and like any challenge, I aim to win.  

I faced my calendar challenge head on and came up with quite an amazing sales pitch.  In exchange for buying me a drink, I would sell them a calendar.  Obviously the conditions have to be quite favorable for this to work, and really it was very simple.  I would go up to someone who had noticeably been drinking and say, "I have a deal for you.  If you buy me a drink, I will sell you a calendar."  My idea actually worked quite well, and before I knew it, I was selling left and right, and to top it off...my drink was always full.  

One patron asked for a kiss, so he got one...on the cheek.  Apparently that wasn't what he had in mind, and asked for a refund.  All sales were final, and I was only selling calendars, not myself.  

Along with selling calendars, I mingled with the crowd some, and enjoyed my free drinks.  My sales scheme worked so well, I sparked the interest of a guy sitting at the bar.  His roomate was insistent that I was perfect for him and that we should get to know each other.  By this point in the evening, it was a bit late and all parties involved had had a drink or two in their systems.  I mostly took this with a grain of salt, but kept up appearances by acting interested in the conversation.  I don't usually like to be set up my other people, especially when the person I am being set up is sitting right behind me, but not speaking up for himself.  After speaking at great lengths with Roomate Number 1, Roomate Number 2 stepped in.  I was soon able to discover that Roomate Number 2 had spent a brief period of her life living in Michigan, and next up came the ultimate deal breaker....

For what felt like an eternity, but was probably more like 4 minutes, Roomate Number 2 screamed at me about how much she hates Michigan State and will always be a Michigan fan.  She was actually yelling quite loudly, expressing her distaste for the greatest college of all time.  After she finished her tirade, she invited me out back to smoke a bowl.  I had to politely decline her offer, as I am not one who is interested in smoking pot, especially with a Spartan hating drunk Michigan fan.  The guy in question, who I did manage to have a limited conversation with ended up giving me his number...twice.      

After a few more laps around the bar, and a few more drinks, I did end up selling more than J.  I did my fair share of work to support the team, and frankly I am proud to support the Nashville Grizzlies, especially if I get to drink for free while doing so!  


P.S. Be sure to buy your very own calendar!  It's quite the hot commodity.  http://www.grizzliesrugby.org/

Thursday, October 14, 2010

I'm Flattered.

I had limited Internet access over the past two days.  On Tuesday AT&T was not cooperating at all, and once it did decide to start functioning adequately again on Wednesday afternoon, I had to go to work.  Last night I was finally able to sit down and log into my email.  Sure enough it was packed full of messages.  I could not possibly have disappeared from online for more than a few hours, let alone a full day, and not have messages and chat requests to attend to.

I have to admit, it was a bit difficult to juggle the multiple messages and chats that I had going on, and I had to immediately prioritize who I wanted to continue talking to.  It was somewhat of an emergency room triage system, anyone who seemed like a decent guy OR could provide some entertainment moved to the front of the line.  Anyone who was dull, creepy, odd, or any combination thereof was off the docket.

I am a firm believer in personal statements.  It makes my triage system much easier and efficient, because let's be honest, I don't have time to waste.  In my opinion you have 60 seconds, at most, to present yourself well enough to spark my interest.  At 61 seconds, if you haven't intrigued me, you probably won't be able to in any amount of time.

Obviously, most people fail to impress me.  Especially when you start off your first message with; "Hey where do you work, we've met before!"  If we have met before, then you would probably already know where I work, especially since I am unable to find a real job for the life of me, and I have been at the same job for over 6 years.  I really do not recall having met this person, and his pictures were terrible at revealing his identity.

Rule #1:  Post a decent picture, of your face, on your DATING profile.  Would you wear a bag over your face if you were meeting a guy in a bar or coffee shop?  Come to think of it, some people actually should wear a bag over their head when meeting someone in a bar or coffee shop.

Rule #2:  Do not start a conversation suggesting that we have met before, because chances are, we haven't.

Clearly this guy was not passing through my triage system, and it was only after he mentioned a previous meeting that he suggested we hang out sometime.  I had to decline.  Even if we had met before, I obviously was not interested then, so I probably am not interested now.  Next!

The next match had emailed me Tuesday night and happened to be on as I was going through my emails.  Although it was not the most thrilling of conversations, I was getting bored and needed something to occupy my time.  Silverado had gone to bed hours ago, and I did not have anyone else to chat with.  I could quickly tell nothing would come of this situation, as soon as the 61st second hit, it was all downhill and anything that could be considered intelligent was out the window.  However, as the conversation slowly and almost painfully progressed, I decided to click back on his profile to glance over it once more and noticed that his location was not in Tennessee, but was in Michigan.  Though I am up for chatting with just about anyone, this discovery raised a red flag.  I inquired as to why a Michigander would send me a message, considering I am all the way in Nashville and have no immediate plans to move back to the Mitten.

His response blew me away.  Turns out, this homewrecking bastard is currently dating my ex.  The Homewrecker is the reason that my ex and I broke up...2 years ago.  Upon this revelation, I became furious.  Lucky for both Homewrecker and Ex, I am in Tennessee...because I was about to kick some ass.  I cannot, for the life of me, fathom why this conversation was even taking place.  I have moved on, and I had moved on quite some time ago.  There wasn't anything to talk about.

The Ex broke up with me to move in with Homewrecker...end of story.  There was no need to spark up a conversation, and I still have no idea what Homewrecker's motives are, and honestly, I could care less.  I was able to remain calm and composed, and politely told Homewrecker what I actually thought of him.  I sure hope all my sincerity was easily translated through the email.  My anger was brief, and decided both of their lives must be quite pathetic, especially if Homewrecker had taken the time to search for me.  I am quite flattered that he took the time to touch base with me.  Clearly, there isn't anything too exciting going on in his life if he felt the need to check in on me, and frankly, those bastards deserve each other.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Any Cosmo Girl Would Know.

The rules of dating should be like the rules of hair care maintenance; simple and finite.  Ideally, things would be boy meets girl, or boy meets boy, or girl meets girl, whichever you prefer.  Upon meeting, a courtship would follow with the couple falling head over heels for each other, and ideally the couple would live in the same neighborhood or the same city as each other.  However, the rules of dating are just about anything but simple and finite.  Usually the rules of dating make it difficult to manage a long distance relationship, especially when it starts off as long distance.  As my luck would have it, I couldn't possibly meet someone in the same zip code as me, I had to be difficult and find someone on the other side of the state.  Me being the stubborn and bull headed kind of guy that I am, I decided not to let distance interfere and see what could possibly come out of an otherwise unfavorable situation.

After quite a few weeks...almost 2 months to be exact, and not that I was counting or anything....I got to spend some time with Silverado.  He made the trek across the great state of Tennessee, and arrived in Nashville Friday evening.  Since there are about 300 miles between us, we can't just have typical date night, and I am not a typical guy anyway, so we had to make it into a date weekend. We kicked off the date weekend with a trip the local beer garden for beers and hot pretzels.  Sounds romantic, huh?  We decided to exercise some self-control, and not drink a ton on Friday night, plus I was still recovering from Wednesday night's Best of Nashville party and Saturday was sure to be a full day of drinking anyway.  I needed my liver to be as high functioning as it possibly could be!

Saturday started off bright and early with a delicious french toast breakfast, made by yours truly, and then we were off to Oktoberfest.  No date weekend could be complete without a trip to Oktoberfest, to engage in beer and German-inspired fun.  After a few beers at the German-themed festival, it was time for Silverado and I to stake our claim in front of a big screen TV at a local sports bar for the highly anticipated Michigan/Michigan State game.  Silverado was a good sport and even wore the green and white in support of the Spartans.  This was a true test for Silverado, if he can't handle me watching a Michigan State football game, especially a game as big as when we play Michigan, there just is not hope for anything else.  After 4 quarters of intense game play, never ending pitchers of beer, and me acting a damn fool, and a Spartan victory, Silverado passed the test with flying colors!  Thankfully, he didn't tire of my clapping, screaming, and cheering and  just leave me at the bar.

After the game, it was off to join the rugby team at their Third Half after party.  Oddly enough, you become quite the hot commodity when you exhibit any hint that you aren't exactly available at the moment, or perhaps showing interest in someone else.  Unsurprisingly, the ruggers were all over Silverado like trailer trash takes to Velveeta.  Silverado was basically fresh meat, however for this event, he wasn't on the market.  Amusingly enough, I caught the attention of someone I had previously expressed an interest in, over a year ago.  In the heat of the moment, my stunning good looks caught his eye, however he actually did not remember who I was.  Thanks to the Homeowner for setting him straight, and reminding him that we had actually met before...on a date.  The Forgetful Rugger and I had actually been on a date quite some time ago, before I had even moved to Nashville or met anyone else on the rugby team.  I'm not sure if I was just that unmemorable or there have been so many since me, regardless, the feelings were not mutual, and how could anyone forget me??  Silverado did well at the rugby party, he was able to hold his own in a room full of drunk, vulgar, and extremely inappropriate rugby players, although he was a bit uncomfortable with a leather and metal clad couple trying to invite him to join in on their relations.  

Flash forward to Sunday morning, and date weekend is coming to a close.  I made yet another delicious breakfast, this time a delightful quiche.  In Silverado's case, a five hour commute back home meant there wasn't much time for him to hang around today.  I had a great date weekend, and hope Silverado did too.  It wasn't anything mushy or foo-fooily romantic, and somewhat of a no pressure kinda situation...with beer and football!  Now if only we didn't have to deal with such a ridiculous distance between us, things would be much better.  I'd like to say that Silverado is the forerunner for my birthday football tailgate roadtrip extravaganza, but that damn distance factor rears its ugly head.  Like I said, the rules aren't simple and finite, and frankly, rules are meant to be broken.