Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Date Crasher.

I inadvertently crashed a date last night, and I did not even have to leave the comfort of my own attic.

I had been chatting with a match, and things were going surprisingly well.  There weren't any blatant sexual innuendos within the first 6 minutes, so that was a good sign.  The conversation was actually normal, just chatting about careers, travels, likes, dislikes, nothing really strange or out of the ordinary.  I noticed that our conversation had progressed through my Tuesday night shows, and we had actually been chatting for quite some time.  He mentioned possibly meeting up, and so far at this point, did not seem like the worst thing that could happen.  We could grab a coffee sometime or something along those lines.  I have been in plenty of conversations that give that 'ehhh' kinda feeling when a coffee/drink/dinner invitation is extended or even merely mentioned.  I was just figuring at some point in time, a Starbucks rendezvous could be arranged.

Well, this guy had a different plan in mind.  He was already out for the evening, and was inviting me to join him.  As it turns out, he was actually out on a first date and had been chatting from his phone almost the entire time.  Apparently the date he was currently on was quite dull, because there weren't any breaks in our conversation, or a hint to any sort of preoccupation he might have at the time, and obviously I had been the focus of his attention.  He wasn't inviting me out to join in on some sort of crazy 3-some, but rather as a means for his escape from his lame date, because I was more interesting.  What did people do before cell phone apps that allow you to find a new date while you're currently on one?  Did people actually have to sit through a miserable date, and just wait for it end?  I feel bad for whomever he was on a date with, because it doesn't seem like it went too well.  In my defense, I really had no idea he was a on a date, so I cannot be held responsible for this situation.  I am also left wondering if this was creepy/odd/shady.  I did not end up going out to pull him out of his date, mostly because it was getting kinda late, but it sure would have made for an interesting story!  

In other news, Silverado will be visiting the weekend of the Michigan State v. Michigan game.  I am interested to see how he can handle me, most likely drunk, watching the Spartans kick some Wolverine ass.  I'm sure it will be a good game, and frankly if he can handle this challenge, he may be a forerunner for the Birthday Extravaganza Roadtrip!

Monday, September 27, 2010

Happy Monday!

It may seem like all of my posts concern some off the wall antics, or revolve around someone who is a bit off their rocker, but honestly, that is all I come in contact with.  I don't know if I give off some sort of vibe that loudly screams "ALL CRAZIES, FOOLS, AND LUNATICS WELCOME HERE!"

I have every intention of posting something a bit more positive, I just have to wait for that to actually happen.  I really do wonder if people, and by people I mean heterosexuals, who use e-harmony, and actually pay for it, are able to find the true love of their life, or at least a decent dinner date within their first few matches.  I don't believe that it takes months and months, and matches and matches to come across someone who can hold a half-way decent conversation, but apparently for me it does.  My conversations always start out fairly tame, and I am never the one to make it sexually charged, but it goes from 0 to 60 in under a minute.  Some people just come right out of the gate with it, and waste no time at all.  Take for instance this pleasant email I received at roughly 5:15 this morning:

"would u consider becoming a guys spank buddy if you were in complete control and in complete charge?
to be able to spank a guys buns as red as u feel his buns should be? no body knows it would be just our secret, and discret.   but yet u will be in charge and i would have to do as u say and you can spank as long as u feel u need to, and visit u on regular times for you to turn my buns red."  

If that is not the way to start off a Monday morning, I am not sure what is.  Usually a cup of coffee does the trick for me, but an invitation to spank the hell out of someone works too I suppose.  I don't think anyone would talk like this on e-harmony.com!  But I will never know if they do or not because I can't use e-harmony, and once again, I am not paying for it.  Maybe I will start taking up donations so I can afford a subscription to a dating site.  Anyone interested?

Why is gay dating so difficult?  Obviously I have had no problem tapping into the fetish scene, first a pseudo-vampire, and now spanking.  Sadly, neither of these are my niche.  Where is anyone who enjoys a brisk autumn Saturday full of football (specifically Michigan State Football) and cold beer?!

On a more positive note for my fellow hopeless romantics, it appears as though I will have another meeting with Silverado (please refer to Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder), more details will of course be provided once they become available.

Don't get me wrong, I always look forward to new emails in the hopes one of them could at least be a friend to watch football with, and frankly some of these fools provide at least a laugh or two.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Childhood Nostalgia.

I don't think people truly understand how outrageously bizarre my dating life, or my life in general, can be. Sometimes I feel like it's one long sitcom, or perhaps a never ending episode of SNL.  I wonder if other people out there experience such ridiculousness, on an almost daily basis.  For reasons unbeknownst to me,  I really do have a knack for attracting the craziest, most off the wall, out of control kind of date.  Once again, my crazy magnet was fully functioning.

After the premiere of Glee I hopped online to see what exciting things were going on with the online dating world.  My inbox was blowing up with messages concerning some sort of 'free event' that Chemistry.com was hosting, so I thought I'd check it out.  I wasn't expecting much, because Chemistry.com has a way of making you think it will be free but then sticks you with the low low cost of $19.99 a month, only if you sign up for 6 months...otherwise it's about $49.99-$59.99 a month.  Well that sure was lame, their 'free event' was allowing you to look at a profile, and send what they call an 'ice breaker' to a match, and the match can respond with an 'ice breaker', but the buck stops there...unless you pay some bucks to keep going.  I was quickly losing interest in this little game of Chemisty.com's, and I sure was not about to pay anything, so I hopped over to one of my free sites.

My go-to free site was a bit lame as well, until I had a chat request.  Not doing much else at that time, I decided to accept, after all, I didn't have too much to lose, it wasn't like I had any other promising prospects.  The conversation started out half-way decently, and he mentioned he was looking for friends and a relationship.  The usual was covered right off the bat, what do you do, what are you looking for, how tall are you, can you drink as much as I do...all the basics.  Well this wasn't terrible I thought, and proceeded on.

Next he asked me how late I was staying up.  At this point in time it was only about 8:30p, so going to bed wasn't my next priority, the night was still young, and Teen Mom had not even started yet, clearly I would be up for at least another few hours.

He then followed up his question with, "Well I will don't go to work until 10 tomorrow."

Oh geeze, I thought to myself...clearly this is headed down the path of leading into a late night hookup, and as I have said before, that's just not my style.  At least buy me a drink first, and not a 2 for 1 well drink.

He then proposed a game of naked Phase 10.

What. The. Hell.  A game of naked Phase 10?  He even offered to teach me how to play.  Well, since I completed the second grade, I actually do know how to play Phase 10, and I have only ever done it fully clothed...I also intend to keep it that way.  Don't get me wrong, I do love a game of Phase 10, but I didn't take the bait right away and next thing I knew, Phase 10 (as he shall now be referred to as because he never actually told me his name) got pissed.  Phase 10 was mad that I was "playing into his offer and not coming over."  I never once suggested that I was interested in a card game, especially one from my childhood, and furthermore, especially playing a childhood game naked with a complete stranger.

Phase 10 signed off and I just figured that was that, and I was moving on with my night.  Nope.  I was wrong.  Phase 10 was back online about 25 minutes later and this time he was very apologetic that he blew up on me, but he couldn't help it because I was 'blue balling' him and I was just so damn hot.

Ahh so clearly, Phase 10 is perhaps bipolar, or just crazy.  After his apology I just stopped replying, my inbox still has 3 or 4 unread messages from him, perhaps I will read them later this afternoon.  I lost all interest at the thought of Phase 10, and frankly, I am not interested in clothing optional games with a psycho.  

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Twilight, Anyone?

I was beginning to think that I was on the verge of letting my 10's of fans down, since I have not posted anything in a few days, but to be honest, nothing exciting has happened.  Yes, even I have a few dull moments in my life, and no progress has been made on a viable candidate for my totally awesome Spartan football birthday road trip.

Something completely unexciting and appalling happened at the bar this past weekend...I actually had to buy my own drinks.  The bar delivered extremely slim pickings, and I decided to uphold my integrity, just bite the bullet, and buy my own drinks.  I wasn't in the mood to deal with some douchebag or old man just to get a Bud Light out of the deal.

Last night I found myself at a Native American themed birthday celebration, complete with a bonfire and a fully functioning tee-pee.  For most people this may sound a bit odd, but it was just another Monday night for a guy like me, and before I knew it, I was sipping a glass of Jack on the rocks, while wearing a feather head dress.

However, I do have this gem of an email I received a few days ago:

"Hey man, i saw your profile.  I am 22 father of 2 and live with the mother of my children. I am bi but lean more towards girls, no offence guy but a womans body is beautiful. I've been working in kitchens for a long time now and love cooking also like fixings stuff and building stuff."


At first I disregarded this entire correspondence, but I received a follow up email:


"Hey man, get that letter I sent to you?  Get back with me."


I have not replied yet, mostly because I do not have anything to say.  What exactly am I supposed to 'get back' at you with?   I am confused by this entire situation.  After telling me that you currently live with the mother of your children, and that you are more interested in women than men anyway, what would you like for me so say?  Upon inspecting his profile, he listed his most noticed physical feature as his abnormally long canines. Yes, he apparently has long...teeth.  Everything about this match sounds so incredibly appealing, 22 bi and 2 kids and pseudo vampire teeth...sign me up!  I feel as though I would find checking my dating site emails a bit more enjoyable if I were drunk while doing it, and frankly, I'm not into Vamps.  









Thursday, September 16, 2010

Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Judged Judgmental

Before anything else, a quick update is in order.  After no help whatsoever from Insurance Bitch, I got fed up and decided to just take matters into my own hands.  Long story short, I FINALLY got Steve Perry back, and he has been fully tricked out with some amazing Spartan decals.  However, that does not mean that I won't continue to call Insurance Bitch and remind her on a daily basis how much she sucks at her job.  Because I still have not actually received the check from her, I needed to go through my own insurance policy, and keep my fingers crossed that they will be able to recover my deductible ASAP.

Anyway.

OkCupid has this neat little feature called 'Quiver'.  Quiver is some sort of technologically advanced relationship matching robot that searches through all of the OkCupid database and delivers 3 highly compatible matches.  Quiver is actually a bunch of bullshit and just gives you the names of 3 completely random people who may or may not even live on the same side of the country as you.  I'd hardly consider any of my Quiver matches to have been 'highly compatible', and why it is even called Quiver in the first place is beyond me.  However, today I not only received my three matches, but one of my matches beat me to the punch and sent me a 'wink' first.

Waking up in the morning to a 'wink' is highly annoying in my book, about as annoying as someone ending every single one of their text messages with 'kisses'.  If my profile interested you in any way, shape, or form, go ahead and say hello.  Don't be a creeper profile stalker and just send an e-wink.  Relate this to being in a bar.  Buy me a drink, don't stand in the corner and wink at me every time I happen to make eye contact with you.

I checked out my winker's profile to see what was in store.  Not only was this profile packed full of spelling, grammar, and syntax errors, the main picture was a complete turn off right out of the gate

Presenting exhibit A  (face has been blurred to protect identity.)

What is this mess??

I am a fairly neat person, and have a specific order and way for many of my things.  This picture makes me want to have a mini panic attack, and from what I can piece together, this match of mine is well on his way to living like a hoarder.  Who wouldn't want to snuggle up in this cozy little nest of a bedroom?  Well I wouldn't, that's for damn sure.  

Not sure how much more I could take, I decided to press on and see what the profile actually had to say. Perhaps he was just having an off day when he was getting dressed that morning and perhaps he felt the need to not make his bed, throw his entire wardrobe all over the place, and choose some off-white-ish pants to wear for his online dating profile picture.  I guess we all can't have the same standards of self presentation that I do, and that's perhaps why I'm single.  

From what I read in his profile, LuvrBoi, "...likes to drive places like florida and listn to music that makes you rock from left to rite"

As much as I enjoy a good road trip, there are much better places to drive to than Florida, and I can't say that I have ever felt the need to rock left to rite while listening to any song.  Upon further investigation I found out that LuvrBoi doesn't care for school too much, but does care about making himself better for a relationship.  Well LuvrBoi, tip number 1 would be to clean up your damn room...let's start there.  

I actually enjoy nit-picking at profiles, and perhaps I will start a weekly blog feature where I pick apart some unfortunate profile and list off everything that needs to be fixed and why we would never work out in any sort of relationship.  I realize I am incredibly picky and judgmental, and frankly, I'd rather be single than date a future hoarder.  
  

Monday, September 13, 2010

Run, Forest, Run

Yet another day has gone by, and I still do not have my car back.  I was beyond livid when the check was NOT in the mailbox this afternoon, and sure enough I gave Insurance Bitch another piece of my mind.  After these repeated phone conversations, I have come to the conclusion that she is not very bright.  Once I hung up the phone with the dipshit Insurance Bitch, I was really fuming and needed a way to blow off some steam.  Since I did not have immediate access to Insurance Bitch to serve up a swift roundhouse kick to the face with my Spartan ass-kickin foot, I figured I would head out for a run around the neighborhood instead.

I tied up my shoes, set the iPod to shuffle, and headed out.  I started off by running South up to a corner eatery a few blocks down the street, called the Pied Piper.  I then turned around and headed North.  As I was running along Riverside Drive, I noticed a silver Grand AM drive by, going what seemed to be a bit slower than the speed limit.  At this point I was running through a school-zone, so I really did not think much of the Grand AM slowly creeping by.  I continued along my journey and made it up to the next corner, which is just under a mile away from where I was.  As I made it up to the corner I saw the silver Grand AM turning around at the intersection to head back South down Riverside.  Hmmm.

I stretched out a bit and needed a new song to run to.  I needed something like a Glee mash up or even Buckcherry's 'Crazy Bitch' and thought I'd run back to the Pied Piper before finally heading home.  So far I was having a good run and had been maintaining a good pace.  Cresting over the hill and seeing the Pied Piper off in the distance, I quickly noticed a silver Grand AM in the parking lot.  Well now all I could think to myself was "WTF?!"

I made my way up to the parking lot so I could stretch out again before heading back home.  I had had enough of running for the day, and Grand AM was actually becoming a bit strange.  I had paused at the corner for just long enough to retie my shoe when I was suddenly approached by the 5' 8"ish, overweight driver of the Grand AM.  Grand AM's opening line was "Hey, I saw you running down Riverside."  It's true, I was in fact, running down Riverside...damn, Grand AM is observant.  He then proceeds with "I've noticed you running around here a few times before."

Keep in mind, that I have been out running, so I am a bit out of breath and also a bit annoyed from the day's events.  And anyone who knows me, knows that even on a normal day when I am quite sedentary, I still sweat like a prostitute in church, so just imagine what I would be like after running a few miles on a sunny southern day.  Not even the sweat pouring out of every pore of my body could deter Grand AM from attempting to make a pass at me.  All I could respond with was somewhat of a grunt/deeply inhaling so I could catch my breath and form a sentence.  I finally managed to respond that I was in fact running up and down Riverside, and usually did so about 4 or 5 days a week.  Grand AM then goes on to tell me he's noticed me a bit, he lives in the area and blah blah blah.  I must have shown some form of disinterest, because I really wasn't interested at all...I was also trying to notice if the car had a blinged out high school tassel hanging from the rear view mirror, a back window full of stuffed animals, or a witty bumper sticker like so many Grand AMs do.

After making some very light and mind numbing conversation, and not really giving much for Grand AM to work with, he asks if I would be up for drinks or hanging out, and since I was running, he would be more than happy to give me a ride somewhere.  Ok dumbass, I was out running for a workout...not running because I don't have a car to drive or even running away from someone/something.  Also, I'm a gross, hot, sweaty mess...no I do not want to go get drinks with you.  He offers to give me his number, but I had to decline that since I was in my running shorts, I didn't have my phone on me.  We bid each other farewell, and I turn around to head home...this time I will actually rock out to 'Crazy Bitch.'    

Perhaps I would have been flattered that someone decided to do some light stalking and follow me up and down my running course.  However, the whole thing was slightly odd and annoying, and frankly,  I don't trust anyone who drives a Grand AM, especially when they are a few years older than me and well on their way to looking like the fat guy from Rascal Flats.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Don't Stop Believin'

So this is a bit off topic, because it has nothing to do with my dating life, but I felt like I needed to share it anyway.

Almost two months ago I bought myself a brand new car.  After 10 years and just over 100,000 miles, it was time to retire the good ol' PT Cruiser.  PT  met her untimely death when the timing belt snapped and took out half of the engine with it.  Clearly, I was devastated.  There will never be as good a car as PT, we sure had some good times together.  But anyway, I bought myself a brand new 2010 silver Chrysler Caliber, which I then named Steve Perry.  This new ride of mine would be the ultimate date magnet...especially if you're the kind of date who likes to drink and tailgate.

Steve Perry has rear speakers on the tailgate that fold down and project outwards when the gate is open, clearly to blast the Michigan State Fight Song.  On top of that, the cup holders glow green at night, and the crowning glory of my sweet new ride, a beverage cooler in the glove box!  That's right!  I could easily fit about 10 beers, errr...beverages...in the glove box cooler, maybe even 12 if I really tried.

Steve Perry sounds pretty glorious, huh?  Well not even a month after I bought myself a brand new car, some bitch t-boned me in the Target parking lot.  I could not believe it for a minute, I did not even have a license plate on my brand new car yet, nor had I even made the first car payment.  I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but I didn't...I pulled myself together and tore this bitch a new one in the Target parking lot as soccer moms and their children stood in disbelief at the scene before them.  It was a sight for sore eyes and ears, I used every version of the F-Bomb that I could possibly think of.  I was pissed.

Well fast forward to this past Friday.  I still DO NOT have Steve Perry back, because I have been fighting with Accident Bitch's insurance this entire time.  Steve Perry has been finished at the shop and is now just waiting for us to be reunited.  After many phone battles with Accident Bitch's agent, whom I shall refer to as Insurance Bitch, I was told that a check to cover the damages had been mailed to me.  In my opinion, this check is coming way too late anyway as I have been without my car for over 25 days now, and I am having to pay out of pocket for a piece of junk foreign rental car that I think is long overdue for an oil change.

I thought for sure that I would have gotten the check on Friday, but I was wrong.   When I found out that the check was not in the mail, I quickly called Insurance Bitch and let her have it.  Hell hath no fury like that of mine when pissed...other than my Mother's.  After using every single swear word I could think of, and some I may have made up, Insurance Bitch told me that she could not guarantee the speed of the mail.  It took everything in my body to not respond to Insurance Bitch with "Well I can't guarantee that I won't kick your ass, slut!"

I asked if Alfa Insurance was run out of her basement, and she replied that that would be a bit ridiculous.   To this I told Insurance Bitch that it was a bit ridiculous that I still did not have my fuckin' car to drive.  I then asked if she had a bunch of invalids working for her, to which she mumbled a confused "uhh noo..." and I quickly snapped with, "Well perhaps you should, then maybe things would get done right."

Another 20 minutes of me ranting and calling her everything I could think of, I still was no better off than before making the phone call.  It did not matter to me because at least I now had the satisfaction of telling her what I thought.  It's now Sunday night, and as I sip my Jack and Coke and watch the VMA's, I can only keep my fingers crossed and hope that I will be reunited with Steve Perry tomorrow afternoon.  It is much harder to find dates if I don't have my sweet date magnet!  If the insurance check still does not come, you better believe that I will be back on the phone with Insurance Bitch, and frankly at this point in time, bitches get stitches.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder...

I am starting to notice a direct relationship between my level of compatibility with someone and the distance between us.  The higher the compatibility; the further away they live.

Meet Silverado (nicknamed based on his vehicle).   24 years old, Employed, College Education, and 90% Compatible (according to OkCupid).

We had a great date awhile back, including dinner and margaritas at my favorite Mexican cantina.  In my opinion, we could totally go start our wedding registry, and luckily, I have already reserved a date at the Michigan State Alumni Chapel.

By the way, when and if my big day ever comes, everything is already planned...I just need someone at the alter.  Picture it:  Michigan State Alumni Chapel, in the fall, Sparty making an appearance, 'Don't Stop Believing' being played by a string quartet.

As my luck would have it, there's a catch to this picture perfect situation.  Silverado lives 5 hours away.  Instead of us being well on our way to picking out an overpriced reclaimed barn wood dinning room table from Pottery Barn, we are left with the option of finagling a long distance relationship.  Apparently I can't attract anyone decent that lives in Nashville, or even Davidson County....at least Silverado lives in the same state, although it is even a different time zone!  

My November 20th Challenge will be much more difficult if I have to resort to importing a date.

My latest OkCupid match considered the word 'crap' to be foul language.  I've been good about not typing it in the blog, but in person, I cuss like a sailor.  Clearly if 'crap' is bad, we having nothing else to talk about...especially if we are at a Michigan State Football game.  And when asked if I would rule out a potential match just because they don't drink, all I could think was...if they don't drink we probably aren't even friends, let alone potential lovers, and would have nothing in common.

I'd like to be with someone who is 90% compatible and can handle 90 proof alcohol, and frankly, every once and a damn while I like to have a fuckin' drink (more often than not!).

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

How To Keep A Guy Until November 20.

My 26th birthday is right around the corner...less than 60 days away.  To some people this may seem like plenty of time to plan a birthday bash, but an international super celebrity blogger like myself needs all the planning time possible to throw the most amazing soiree ever.  This year is no exception.  For the first time ever, my birthday celebration will span over multiple weekends as well as multiple states.  This year I will be celebrating in my two favorite cities; Nashville AND East Lansing!

The East Lansing celebration includes attending my favorite sporting event in the world...Spartan Football! The Bffl and I have 8 tickets to the Michigan State vs. Purdue matchup, and the true test of any dating match of mine would be to accompany me to a Michigan State game.  Anyone who can handle me, drinking, in East Lansing, with the Bffl, at a Michigan State game is surely a keeper.  With this in mind, The Bffl and I channeled all of our pop culture references and following Kate Hudson's lead a la 'How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days' we decided that my newest challenge would be to find and keep a date until November 20th.

This will be a tall order to fill.  I will be driving up to Michigan, which is a nine hour road trip...I need to make sure my copilot is someone I can stand to be trapped in a moving vehicle with for an extended period of time.  Add this to my already long list of requirements, and I am bound to be single forever.  Unlike Kate Hudson's character, I don't have to go out of my way to make the typical dating mistakes as she does in the movie, I apparently have no problem doing that all on my own!

Until then, I will be eagerly counting down the days until my birthday extravaganza, and frankly, I could not be more excited...especially if I am able to turn a dating match into a die hard Spartan like myself!

Monday, September 6, 2010

Jesus Loves A Winner!

If you are easily offended, you probably shouldn't continue reading.  But then again, if you're easily offended...you probably aren't reading the blog to begin with.


Nothing sounds like more fun on a Sunday afternoon than a 4 hour block of showtunes at the bar.  Showtunes and beer, it's like gay dream!  Got to the bar, said a few introductions here and there and ordered up some pitchers of beer.  When hanging out with a bunch of gay rugby players, no topic is really off limits.  Tonight's first order of business...operation cock ring.  Now with only a few sips of beer in my system, I sure was not ready for cock rings and such...but that made no difference.  A small group of about 6 of us quickly, almost like a sprint, headed up the street to assist one of the ruggers in finding his very first ring.  I really was not drunk enough for this impromptu field trip and what a touching sentiment!  I'm usually up for almost anything, but even this was a bit much for me. Why wouldn't you want to take 5 people along with you?  But now that I think about it, why were 5 people even willing to go??  With a little assistance from the sales associate, and yes assistance is needed in order to find the proper size and fit...somewhat like a bra fitting...the mission was complete.


Flash forward back to the actual showtunes portion of the evening.  The video clips they played from Mama Mia were actually better than the ABBA tribute band from two nights before.  I decided that whiskey was the last thing that I needed, so I opted for beer.  However Friend Brad decided he wanted to drink long island ice teas, and I would be too.  This was no normal long island,we were both fairly certain that they were laced with roofalin (sp?).  I could tell that if I were going to stick with the long islands, things could get out of hand...again.  I really need better self control. 


I never go to the bar with any sort of agenda, but I did make two rules for myself:
1.  Keep all of my clothes on at all times.
2.  Sleep in my own bed.


Well with the combination of free flowing beer and long islands I couldn't make any promises that I could stick to the rules.  At some point I ended up talking with a detective...not because I was engaging in illegal activities, but because he was at the bar too.  Well apparently I wasn't the only one interested in conversation with The Detective and now in my semi buzzed, possibly roofied, state of consciousness this seemed like a challenge.  I had competition to deal with, but I always get what I want.  Game on!  


The conversation, which was actually somewhat intelligent and not just about Bravo reality shows, continued with The Detective with few interruptions from The Competition.  However, at this point, it was time for food.  Friend Brad made a quick dash to save us a table at Suzy Wong's (owned by famed Top Chef contestant Arnold Myint who moonlights as Suzy Wong when in drag), and I tried to make a quick lap around the bar to see who all was interested.  At this point, I lost The Detective and had a sneaking suspicion that The Competition got the upper hand, but was more concerned about eating.  I figured he'd either be at the table, or I could just run into him again at some point in the evening.  Either way, I'd be fine if I could just tame my now ravenous hunger.  


I enjoyed quite a delicious meal, sans The Detective, at Suzy Wong's.  On the other hand, Homeowner Todd was not too thrilled with what was supposed to be sweet and sour chicken but turned out to be more like ketchup chicken ( but I didn't see a problem with this, and ended up eating most of that as well).  When I drink, my inner Ruby needs to be fed, and she has quite an appetite.  Still no Detective, so I figured I lost this little game I had made up in my mind.  Oh well, the night was still young and the next stop was Play Dance Bar.


I'd like to believe that since I am Nashville's very own Carrie Bradshaw, I got into the bar for free, but since that's probably not entirely accurate, thanks to who ever paid the cover!  I'm always in the mood for a drag show, and Suzy Wong would even be making an appearance.  Well as I expected, I met back up with The Detective...and along the way he had ditched The Competition.  This could be the home stretch, and clearly, I was in the lead.  And after a few more beers, some conversation, and an entertaining drag show I got to meet Suzy Wong herself!  Us celebs are drawn to each other.


I'm drunk, and Suzy Wong looks fabulous.


Well the night came to an end and it was time to head home.  Apparently The Homeowner had already offered for The Detective to stay at the house, so this really was going to be much easier than first anticipated.  I drove The Homeowner and The Detective back home and made it up to the attic to sleep in my own bed!  Upon waking up this morning, I was relieved that I had stuck to my rules.  Once again, I wasn't looking for a hook up and my night was G-Rated (minus the field trip), it just so happened that I had The Detective in my sights first, and was enjoying the conversation, and frankly Jesus loves a winner! 



Saturday, September 4, 2010

Mama Mia!

I must say that I am a bit overwhelmed by the 10's of followers/viewers I now have!  And Frankly has even gone global, now reaching THREE continents!  I never thought that the trials and tribulations that I experience in my dating life with be of such interest to the general public....actually I did, or why else would I have a public blog??

Last night was no exception to the wild ride that is my life.

Started the night off with a little pre-drinking at the house.  The homeowner had a few people over and I quickly jumped into the Jack Daniels.  Jack and I have always had a solid relationship, but sometimes it gets me into some awkward situations.  Upon discovering the deliciousness that is Jack and Ginger Ale, I knew the night was most likely going to get a bit out of control.  And did it ever. 

After a few drinks, and quite the raunchy/scandalous/risque conversation (but what else would you expect from a bunch of homos in one room?) we made our way out to the bar for an ABBA tribute band.  Who could say no to an ABBA tribute band?  Not me!  I was now feeling good with my Jack and Ginger and was more than ready to hear some 'Dancing Queen'.  

I always enjoy going to the bar and getting the chance to see some of my online matches out in public, without actually having to go on a date with them.  It is somewhat like going to the zoo...I can view from afar and watch their interactions and mannerisms, and see if they are anything like they describe themselves online.  Most times they aren't.  Got myself a drink, and made a few laps around the bar to scope the scene...this was bound to be good, and I could see these fools without having to actually meet them.

Turns out that the ABBA tribute band was really just two girls singing ABBA karaoke, so that was a bust.  I needed to quickly find other ways to entertain myself, and my drink was getting a bit low.  Well what happens when 3 of your matches end up being at the same bar at the same time...and 2 of the matches happen to be friends with each other?  It really wasn't as awkward as you may think, and for the rest of the evening my drink stayed full.  I take that back, it was fairly awkward.  I got pulled away from my friends and began mingling with the 3 who were all vying for my attention.  This was suddenly on the spot speed dating, and I was thrown a bit off guard.  It got difficult keeping up with all of the conversations, but I was loving being the center of attention.  I just hoped this wasn't on course to turn into a bad porn and end in a gang bang...not my style.

I'm not sure that I remember much of any of the conversations to be exact, however I do remember that the ABBA karaoke band came to an end at some point, and as the night was drawing to a close I had to make some quick decisions.  Also, I was drunk.  However, I did notice that my friends were nowhere to be found and my options for a ride home were becoming quite limited.  I could walk, but that would have taken me until Tuesday, I could call a cab, but I was a bit low on cash at the moment, or I could suck it up, take one for the team, and have one of the 3 take me home.  And obviously, the drunker I got, the more attractive and interesting each of them seemed.  This was going to be tough, and I am not usually one to go home with someone from the bar.

Well I ended up in the car of the one who bought the majority of my drinks, I figured it was the least I could do.  However, I may have broken up a friendship over this split decision, as his friend was after me as well. Now don't take this the wrong way, I wasn't looking for a hookup (I'm not that kind of guy!), I was mostly looking for a ride home or a place to sleep or both...the order really didn't matter at this point.  Fast forward through the car ride that seemed to take forever, and we ended up at his place.  At this point I really was drunk, and needed to lay down ASAP.  Before I could hop into bed and pass out...he ripped all the bedding off, and remade the entire bed.  At this point in time, this was the most bizarre thing that could happen.  I just wanted to sleep.   

Finally I was able to pass out in a freshly made bed, this was better service than the world's largest Holiday Inn Express in downtown Nashville.  I woke up bright and early, rolled over to wake up what's-his-face, and requested a ride home, but not without a stop at Starbucks!  Made it home just in time to shower, throw on a Spartan t-shirt, catch pre-game festivities on ESPN and settle in for a day of college football.  And that folks, was the kick off to my Labor Day weekend, may sound a bit shady...but it was all in good fun, and frankly I blame it on the Jack.  

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Go Green!

I really do have a knack for attracting freaks, creeps, and anything that could be considered the slightest bit of a social deviant.  And my newest match is not an exception.

With my usual excitement, I log on to find new mail.  Check it out, and it all seems pretty legit and decent, might as well spark up a conversation.  We get to chatting a bit, he's a nurse interested in med school...I am a recent grad school graduate interested in med school...bonus.  Then he drops the bomb:

"Oh, you're a Michigan State fan"

Well no, I'm not a Michigan State fan, I am a Michigan State Spartan, but for all intensive purposes, that is neither here nor there.  This should have been a red flag, but I decided to continue onward.

It turns out that he allegedly went to the University of Michigan.  UGH.  And was an athlete there as well, claiming to have been a linebacker during the 2000-2001 football season (this bit of information has yet to be confirmed).

Now what in the hell do I want with a Wolverine?  I didn't date anyone from U of M when I lived in Michigan, I sure as hell am not about to start doing it when I live 500+ miles away.

So I am usually not the most compatible with fans of my Alma Mater's rival school, and I become even less compatible when they turn out to be completely odd.  I had to head out to work, and figured I had an hour drive followed by a 9 hour inventory shift, texting would not be terrible, if nothing else it would kill some time.

Big. Mistake.

Next thing I know, my phone is being blown up with messages about how much of a catch he is, how great he is, and how he likes to earn all of the bread (yes, that's what it said...I think it should be 'breadwinner').   Then come to find out he has lived all over the continental U.S., and has performed many different jobs including; nurse, dancer, and monk.  And finally wants to one day set up a clinic in Juneau, Alaska.  Next comes a pic of him blowing kisses and is titled 'txt kisses'.  Then comes a video of him signing a song, which was not all that audible, while driving.  All of these messages came within 5.4 minutes of each other, and  to top it all off...each messages includes a text signature of  ~: kisses :~

GAG. ME.

There are so many things wrong with this situation that I just need to nip it in the bud immediately.  A self gloating Wolverine (no surprise) who used to be a dancing monk who wants to be an Eskimo and uses a text signature!

I steer clear of anyone who uses a text signature, especially one that says 'kisses', and frankly, I have no interest in a Wolverine.  GO GREEN!

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Time For A Rant.

Regardless of what happens in my life, I can always feel better about myself just by watching an episode of the wildly popular MTV show 'Teen Mom'.  These fools are a train wreck!  But as I sit here sipping my morning Bailey's and coffee and watching last night's episode of what I like to call 'How Not to Raise a Child', I feel much better about living in an attic and emailing back and forth with The Nugget.

Anyway, as I sit here, I am also Facebook chatting with a friend from college, well really more of an acquaintance.  And as so many of my friends, acquaintances, and co-workers have done before, this long-lost college friend made a suggestion for someone that I just have to meet, and go on a date with.  This happens all the time, and I love my friends, enjoy my acquaintances, and can tolerate my co-workers, but when this particular situation arrises I like to refer to them all as Well-Meaning Morons.  The Well-Meaning Morons feel the need, perhaps it is their idea of a good deed for humanity, to set me up with someone they know who just so happens to be gay.  It's as though a switch is flipped as this brilliant idea comes to fruition.  Well he's gay, and so is he, so obviously they must be a match made in heaven!  And the more I think about it, this seems to be the same method of matching that dating sites seem to use as well.  

This is the worst. rationale. ever.

Honestly, just because your friend dates guys, does not mean that I NEED to meet them.  Do they do anything else?  What do they like?  Dislike?  Can they read?  Are they a registered sex-offender?  Did you stop for just one minute to take any other interests, be it mutual or opposite, into consideration?  Perhaps it is just me being picky again, but I really need more to go by when looking for a date.  Well-Meaning Morons seem to think that all the gays are the same, and each one has everything in common as every other one does, and that each one is dying to date every other one as well.  Even if I were a unicorn, and you just so happened to know the only other unicorn on Earth, this does not mean that us two unicorns are meant to be together.  In this case, perhaps I would be more interested in a narwhal.

From now on, perhaps I will set my friends up on dates too.  I shall employ the same form of rationalization when choosing which of my friends are meant for each other.  i.e. Well Bill once wore a green shirt, and I know that Liz has a green shirt too, they must register at Pottery Barn for overpriced driftwood and get married ASAP!

As I have had to do so many times before, I simply inquired with a false interest, and replied to my well-meaning moron college acquaintance that sure, I'd chat with her friend that is bound to be my soul-mate. I am almost certain that nothing will come of this, mostly because I don't think this new found 'match' even lives within 500 miles of me, and frankly, I am not one to take advice from Well-Meaning Morons, or am I one to be set up on a date.