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


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 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 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.

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.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Missed Connections.

Apparently I don't have just 1 stalker, I now have a handful of them.  They are all creeping out of the woodwork, and bringing my whereabouts and sightings around town to my attention.  I actually did not get out a whole lot this weekend, as I was cooped up at work for long periods of time.  However, I was able to make it out to Broadway on Saturday night for a friend's birthday celebration.  I managed to have a few beers with my friends, nothing crazy by any means, and called it a night relatively early so I could work the following day.  Nothing terribly exciting or out of the ordinary took place.  However, this morning received a couple of emails from different people saying that they saw me out Saturday night, or working Sunday afternoon.

Since when did this become an acceptable introductory email?  I've never actually spoken to these people, and I wasn't even familiar with ever coming across the profile of one of the guys, but apparently they recognized me well enough from online to pick me out in a crowd on Broadway, and then inform me that they had seen me.  If by chance you were to see me out and about with my friends, and perhaps recognized me, and were that interested in me, why wouldn't you just say something then and there?  I guess I am a bit more upfront than most people, but I also think it takes a lot of balls to just email someone and say "Hey I realize that I am a creep but I saw you out this weekend!" Usually the email continues you on with something like, "I wasn't sure if you saw me, you looked really nice/handsome/hot/hawt/ etc."  No fool, I didn't see you, because I do not even know who you are.

When these situations occur, and lately, it has been more often than not, I am never sure how to respond.  I typically just reply with my over enthusiastic "Oh you did?! Cool!"  I always hope that at least some of my intended sarcasm is apparent.  I am sure they mean well, and they could actually be some half-way decent people, but oddly enough, whenever I go to check their profile, they usually do not have a picture at all, are wearing sunglasses and a hat, a picture of a shirtless torso, or something completely unclothed and inappropriate all together.  I am completely left in the dark, there is no way in hell that I would ever be able to tell who these fools were out in public...but now that I think about it, perhaps it is better that they decided to send an email and not actually approach me...unless they were offering to buy me a drink, then I would at least say thanks.

I don't have time to deal with creeping from afar.  I feel as though sending an email mentioning that you saw me out in public is somewhat of a cop out to see if I would return any form of interest.  Chances are I won't find this endearing at all, and frankly, I would prefer that you just posted a Craigslist Missed Connections, I have always wanted one of those!

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Potential Stalker?

Well last night was relatively uneventful, but I suppose a twenty-something year old single guy can't always expect a Friday night to be full of excitement and fun.  I spent the greater portion of the evening flipping through channels looking for something semi-exciting to occupy my time, but had no luck.  All I could find were TLC shows about people having dozens of children, or working on acquiring dozens of wives (yes, I mean you Sister Wives).  One man is married to four people, and I can't even find one to have a few drinks with!

Anyway, I decided to just resort to my all time favorite Halloween themed movie, although I have been known to watch it at any given time throughout the year, and settled in to watch the cinematic classic, Hocus Pocus.  With both of the roomates gone, I had the entire house to myself...I could actually leave the attic to watch my movie in the front room!  However, I had no viable options for company to join me, and to update about any potential suitors; things are just about off with Detective, plus he's out of town with the rugby team anyway, so that was out the question, and Silverado is about 5 hours away with plans of his own for the weekend.  Silverado will be here next weekend anyway, and unfortunately back to back roadtrips aren't very feasible at this point in time.  I guess it would just be me, Jack, and three zany witches for the evening.

So I did what any single guy would do, resorted to my online dating sites.  Surely there must be something a bit exciting happening with the online dating world.  Just as soon as I could log in, I had an incoming chat request.  Some creeper, whom I have never met, IMed me saying "Someone was shopping at Green Hills the other day."

All I could reply with was "Well, I am sure lots of people were shopping at Green Hills."  But I knew damn well he was referring to me, because I was in fact at that mall on Thursday evening.

He followed with "I hope that did not come off as too stalkerish"

Well it did, it was extremely stalkerish, and of course I let him know that.  Without even initiating a conversation with a friendly "Hello", you come right out and tell me you saw me shopping.  I am not sure if this was supposed to come across as flattering or endearing, but I wasn't liking it.

Sadly, on this particular evening, uncovering a potential stalker was the highlight of the night.  I decided just to log off and rejoin the three zany witches, plus I needed to refill my Jack and Coke.  Obviously I was not going to find a candidate for my birthday/football roadtrip, and frankly I'd just rather go up by myself than have to tote around a creep.