Mr Hairy Nubs

Anyone who knows me knows I have a diverse pallet.  I appreciate different flavors, colors, shapes and sizes.  I try to keep true to the mantra of “Trying everything once.”  I appreciate spice and I respect simple comforts.  After one date, I found out something quite interesting about myself.

Dating is a bit of a marketing position… you are truly putting your best dish forward!  So when I got into his vehicle and glanced over at my blind date, my first reaction was HOLY HAIR!  I don’t mean long, flowing locks like Chad Matthews has (football reference – Green Bay), I mean… hair popping out of his shorts, his polo shirt, on his arms, his chest, his legs, everywhere!  When the thought came through my head, “If this is what I can SEE, how much more IS there?!”  I tried to quiet that thought, keep an open mind and just forge on.

Then, when he smiled and I caught sight of the teeth… I thought, “No, this can’t be.  HAIRY and bad teeth?”  Not that I can’t appreciate differences… but…  Finally, as we were talking on our way to the restaurant, I saw them.  Little chewed down nubs.  He chews his nails to the point they are half way up the nailbed.  I winced, and try to talk myself out of seeming superficial…  but I couldn’t.  I didn’t want to kiss him with those teeth.  I didn’t want to get next to him (if I could) with all that hair!  And I didn’t want him to touch me with those….nubs.

Lesson learned: Maybe I should ask a blind date how they feel about man-scaping, dental hygiene and hands?   (There was no second date)

Mr Might Be Racist Guy

So it’s not as easy as it sounds…  sometimes you taste something in a dish and you THINK you know what it is!  You’re almost sure you know the spice, but you’re just not 100% sure.  Is it thyme or rosemary?  Was that a little cinnamon or nutmeg?  It’s a little spicy, so is that red-pepper flakes or chipotle powder?  It’s like it’s there, but so sneaky and subtle, you start to question your sense of judgment and doubt your very senses!

That’s kind of how the “MIGHT BE RACIST” guy starts out.  A little here and you think, “Wait! What WAS that?!”  (In your head you think, was that a racist comment?)  And then, he’s sweet to a small child and you are quickly convinced that your mind was playing tricks on you.  Surely, you think, there isn’t a malicious bone in his body!  So you let it go and you continue on with the taste-test.

A few days later, there it is again.  Not directly, but discreetly while you are involved in your covert, private investigative work.  As you peruse his Facebook page...jokes, tons of them.  Almost every single one of them, videos and pictures included, are of other races or other perceived classes.  And again you hear the nagging in the back of your mind, “What is his deal?  Is this what I THINK it is?”  As your mind is processing the evidence, you are hoping it isn’t chipotle powder, because you are SUPER allergic to chipotle.  You really hope for red-pepper flakes!

But then… in the final dish, you taste it!  As clear as day: it’s chipotle.  While you are ordering your yogurt, you notice he treats servers markedly different, depending on the perceived ethnic differences.  It’s there and it’s very obvious. He doesn’t even TRY to hide it and you almost choke in utter disgust.

Lesson:  When it looks like chipotle, smells like chipotle and tastes like chipotle, it’s chipotle.  I (no doubt) enjoy a little spice. I just have to be sure of the flavor!         

The Worst Kisser EVER Guy

I met this guy at a friend's Christmas party. He was alone. I was alone. It only made sense that he and I should talk to each other. He had the plastic glasses, skinny jeans, messy hair--everything that would make me think that I would enjoy talking to him. And that's what we did. We left the party. No numbers were exchanged. At this point I was thinking that he was actually really fun to talk with, and that hopefully I'd found a new friend. And that I did.

The powers of facebook allowed us to stay connected, and we actually hung out a few times. We got sushi one night. We met up with friends sometimes. Everything was JUST friends and was nice. It's not like we hung out all the time, but we emailed on a fairly regular basis. And then it became more irregular. But that's life. We weren't best friends, and it just faded.

A few months later, I saw him at the coffee shop. He introduced me to his girlfriend. As I was shaking her hand, I was thinking to myself that this is why I haven't heard from him in a while. Ahh well. She seemed nice, and he appeared happy. I did tell him that we needed to grab a drink sometime and catch up. A few weeks went by, and I shot him a text to see if he wanted to meet up. He couldn't, and that was fine.

Here's where the story is. A couple weeks after that, I was driving home from a night out (about to be convinced to meet up with a guy who was major bad news--another story for another time--and I got a text from my friend that said, "How 'bout that drink?" Let me just say right now that it was 11:30 on a Friday night. But because I wasn't quite ready to go home, I asked him where to meet. When I met up with him, I noticed that he was probably a few drinks in. So, we had one more. He wanted to get out of there, and because it was nearly 1:00 and neither of us were up for downtown, he offered for us to watch a movie at his place. I agreed. Mind you, I knew this guy. He wasn't a stranger. We were friends--the point being that I trusted him enough to go over to his house (it also might be worth mentioning that while he was probably a good 5 inches taller than me, I outweighed him by about 30 pounds... so I think we all know who would have won in that struggle). Anywho, on the way to his place, he called me and asked if we could go over to mine instead because his roommate was being weird.

He had me in a bind at this point, because my roommate (who was my sister at the time) was going to be wierd about him coming over, too. But I said it was ok. So, he followed me to my place. He picked out a movie to watch. When I went to sit on the couch, he put his arm around me, which move confirmed my suspicion that he and his girlfriend had called it quits. So basically we cuddled on the couch and watched the movie.

Then..... it happened. He kissed me. And not just a quick little kiss. He went for it. And it was NOT good. He basically stuck his tongue as far as he could get it in my mouth and just kept it there. He didn't move it. It just kind of laid there in my mouth. He let his hands do all of the moving, if you know what I'm saying. Now, I don't know what he thought was going to happen that night (he did find the top of my tights that were pulled up about 9 inches above my belly button and found a way to get his hand inside of them--yes, I called it a belly button--but he didn't keep it there fore long), but I basically had to spit his tongue out of my mouth, and I went to bed. At this point, he was too tired to drive home so he crashed on the couch.

The next morning was not less than awkward. First of all, he wouldn't wake up fast enough. Second of all, my poor sister saw him on the couch, and just went back upstairs. When he finally got up, nothing was said about the previous night. I told him how to get out of the neighborhood, and that is literally the last I ever heard from him. (Side note: the powers of the internet allowed me to learn that he got back with that girlfriend of his and is now married to her).

What I learned from this situation was that an 11:30 text from a guy asking to go out for a drink is a bootie call. Even if you're casual friends, this guy from the moment he sent that text had other things in mind. In retrospect, I think he had had a fight with his girlfriend and just wanted to forget about her for a moment. But the more important lesson learned: tights make things awkward. They can either be a protective barrier/too much trouble for him to deal with or a nuisance for the wearer. In this case, the tights were definitely the former, but it is something to think about as fall and winter roll around.

Stretchy Pants Guy

She was leaving with her husband and approached me at the bar on her way out the door. She introduced herself and told me that her friend at the end of the bar thought I was cute and was working up the nerve to come talk to me. When he arrived, she asked me to be nice. Great. Obviously exactly the kind of guy I'm looking for. One with no confidence and needs friends to "warn" women about their lack of social skills. But I get it...be nice.

After about 20 min, the gentleman comes over to sit by me but doesn't speak. OK. We both know why you are here, your friend warned me about you coming, and now you can't even introduce yourself? (be nice). So I introduce myself and start a general conversation. This gentleman is not what I would call a conversationalist but I was bored so forced/awkward conversation is better than no conversation, right?

He orders a plate of cheese sticks and offers me one. My stomach turned as I noticed the grease hardening on the plate in front of me (be nice) so I politely turned it down saying that I have to be careful about what I eat. And then it happened. The most beautiful words ever spoke at a bar..."I don't have to worry about what I eat after my grandmother told me about stretchy pants." I was speechless. After an awkward pause he continued with "you know, stretchy pants. The kind with the elastic waistband (as he gestures pulling out the waist of his pants). With elastic bands my stomach just grows as I eat with no pain." I was speechless. (BE NICE!) I had no words and after an even longer pause I had to change the subject. Let's evaluate what was wrong with what happened.

1) You ordered cheese sticks and when I said "be careful about what I eat" you think I'm referring to a painful stomach and not my heart, arteries, and other organs that would be hardened by the grease.

2) You talk about how you not only shop with your grandmother, but you take her advice on clothes.

3) The advice you take is in regards to stretchy pants. STRETCHY PANTS. You know...the kind with the elastic waistband.

4) You tell me this story at a bar. Where others can hear. Where I have to be nice and ignore the snickering behind me.

5) You gesture stretchy pants to me because you thought I didn't understand. Oh...I understood.

To make this story even more interesting was how he ended the night (after a few more minutes of painful conversation). As he was getting ready to leave he THROWS a balled up piece of paper at me. Obviously already annoyed and about out of "niceness", I open it to find his business card. I flat out asked "Why the heck did you crumple it? Now I can put it in my wallet flat." His response? "I was nervous to give it to you." Again, let's run down why this is wrong.

1) You just threw a piece of paper at me.

2) You crumpled your business card (meant to imply "professional") in a manner equal to a 5 yr old.

3) If you were embarrassed to give it to me, why didn't you throw and leave? Why did you stick around for me to open it in front of you anyway?

So...

Lesson Learned: Sometimes no conversation IS better than awkward conversation. Although if you go for the awkward conversation you might just hear someone use the words "stretchy pants" in a sentence.

To-The-Point Guy

You can always spot them. The bachelor parties where all the guys look the same and are usually drinking hard liquor…Makers. Jack. A shot of Jaeger. Each sporting a long sleeve dress shirt with jeans…maybe a baseball cap but usually lots of just awkward hair gel (you can always pick out the ones who wear the gel just on “special” occasions). Cute, casual and ready to take on the town.

On this particular Saturday night I’m at the bar with a friend and our luck thus far was an old man in a Hawaiian shirt. So when I had the opportunity to make eye contact and flirt with one or two of the guys at the bar, I made a strong effort. After about 15 min of not catching anyone’s eye long enough to indicate my interest, one of the boys hollered over to me “OK, so which one of us are you interested in?” Obviously mortified I made up something flirty about not needing to pick out just one. Finally as the boys go to leave, Mr. To-The-Point came over and stated in a very matter of fact way “You’re cute, but we’re all taken. 3 married, 3 engaged and 2 with girlfriends. BUT we’ll be back to have a drink.” No, I did not hold my breath in anticipation. He just managed to speak one sentence and used all three bad words in that one sentence…“girlfriend, engaged, married.”

Interestingly enough, as I’m on my 3rd cucumber martini, I get a kiss on the check and turn to see Mr. To-The-Point. Again in not so gentle a manner, he tells me “So, I’m going to lay it out there. Our stripper just cancelled and we need a girl or two last minute. You and your friend are cute. Would you girls be interested?”

Of course he was kidding (right?), so I told him he couldn’t afford us as I then quoted our billable rates as attorneys and engineers (you know…those kind of professional women). Less than a second passed before he agreed. WAIT? WHAT?!? I just quoted him an exaggerated billable rate (from which I keep less than 30%) and he just agreed without blinking…without smiling…and with complete seriousness (almost panic) as he tried to find women for his bachelor party. Needless to say I turned down the job, and he immediately walked away…proving that it was NOT just some odd flirty pick-up but an actual proposition. He didn’t stay around to laugh it off, but went on his way to find a girl willing.

All of this did lead me to wonder…what price could I have set that would have at least led him to blink? Are strippers on to something? Set your own hours and keep more than 30% (of an hourly rate MUCH higher than any firm would pay). I do wonder if they ever found 2 friends to fill the spot and what those women actually do for a living.

Lesson Learned: Be careful who you try to make eye contact with at the bar. You may end up discovering that strippers make more money than you do and this can be a bit discouraging.

The Is Only In To You When He's Drunk Guy

My friend wanted to introduce me to one of her single friends. Great! After the necessary facebook stalking took place, I decided that it'd be okay if I met him. According to my friend, he was a good guy, went to Bible college, wanted to be a preacher, but has a stable job--all good things in my opinion. Did I mention that he was H-h-h-h-ot?! Yes. Ladies, we're talking about an Abercrombie catalog worthy body and a good face, too.

So, I show up to a bar that I've never been to before. Of course, I come with some of my good girlfriends, so if it ends up being a flop, I'll have not wasted the drive there. We get there. I meet the guy. Pretty sure my friend whispered in his ear "This is the girl I was telling you about." So, we chat as much as any two people knowing they've been set up can in a loud bar. I was asking all of the questions ("What do you do? Do you like it? Where did you go to school? Do you live around here?). He was very good at talking about himself, but managed to get a few questions to me as well. All in all, I was satisfied with this initial conversation. After about 15 minutes, we parted ways for a bit. I stayed with my girls--we danced, drank, and chatted for about an hour and a half.

Then, the guy returns to where we are standing. At this point, he is tanked. I mean, it's obvious that he's become drunk, but he's not mean, or anything like that and is fairly coherent. So, he sits down next to me--really close to me actually. He proceeds to tell me that I'm intmidating because of my job and that I'm smart and that he doesn't know how to act around me. My reaction to this is just to tell him that I'm not intimidating and that I'm totally normal. I tell him that his job is not a joke (at this time he helped run/manage a fertilizing company) and that he's really nice. He then proceeds to bite my shoulder... then he kisses my neck. I mean, the door was WIDE OPEN for a make out, but I did not give in. I grabbed my friend and said bye. He didn't ask for my number.

A couple days later, I did what any girl would do and asked my friend if he said anything about me. He told her that he thought I was really nice and funny and fun to talk with and pretty. He also told her that he hoped he didn't blow it because he got drunk. This leads me to believe that he likes me, and I'm stoked! I facebook friend request him. He accepts immediately. So, the next week, I go to the same bar again in the hopes that I'd run into him. The funny thing is that he's there, but he does not come and talk to me. Literally an hour and a half goes by, and nothing. I know he saw me. So, I eventually go up and talk to him, and we chat for about 10 minutes. My goal that night was to leave knowing that I'd given him my number. Despite his (perhaps) unwillingness to come talk to me, I went up to him on my way out, told him I was leaving, and gave him my card. Not 10 minutes later, he texted me and said that he didn't want me to leave. WHAT.THE.F**K! Why the hell didn't he come talk to me then?!?!?

So, my schedule didn't allow me to back to that bar for a while, but we exchange a few text messages and facebook comments for a while. I went back to the bar, and we chatted but it just wasn't the same. He always acted a little nervous around me and talked himself up a lot. I just counted it as him trying to impress me... It was actually doing the opposite.

However, my hormones were getting the best of me, and I still put forth the effort in trying to get to know and really just putting myself out there. I mean, did I mention that he was really hot? At any rate, as time went on, this guy was not putting in the effort to get to know me, so I just let it go. Do I see him every once in a while? Yes. Am I overly friendly and a bit flirty? Yes. Does it get me ANYWHERE? No.

What I learned is that this guy only has the confidence to express himself to me when he's totally wasted and is nervous around me and stand-offish when he's not drunk. Is this flattering? Of course it is. But this will get me no where. The guy that's only in to you when he's drunk will only make you question yourself and your worth. I've wasted too much time on this guy because of that first night when he was definitely giving me the green light. He was drunk. That's why he was doing that. I made up too many excuses for him: he's insecure, he's shy, he's tired, he's preoccupied. NO! As women, we do NOT need to give guys these excuses, and we don't need them to only be into us when they're intoxicated. Elsewise, we'd be falling for guys that are drunk 24 hours a day, and that's no good. So be aware of that guy that's only into you once he has a few drinks in him. Can we give him the benefit of the doubt that first time? Yes. But when it seems like that's the only way he can express himself, he's not dating material. Period. I gave this guy so many chances and opportunities letting him know that I was interested and received nothing in return. Next please.

Ex-Navy Seal Guy

Traveling for work has provided me with many opportunities to meet men of all shapes, styles, and liquor preferences. I hope to share many of my stories with you over the next few months and wanted to start with a personal favorite.

One evening I returned to the hotel from a run-sweaty and red faced- smelling of a gym bag. As I get onto the elevator with four of the most ruggedly handsome men I’ve ever seen, I divert my eyes hoping that they will not see, hear, or smell me. Fail. I catch the eye of “Bob” (of course I did not know his name at the time). I was hooked. I heard their conversation identifying a meeting time in the lobby for dinner… my stalker skills said to show up, but the lady in me knew better. Somehow we all ended up at the same restaurant (the fact that I knew their car and saw it in the parking lot was just coincidental), at the same bar, at the same time. For the next 2 hours I sip my wine, eat my dinner, and eye flirt with Bob from across the bar. Every time he gets up for the bathroom I just know he’s going to come by and say hello. He never does.

As the men pay their tab, Bob decides to head my way instead of to the door. At this point I’m waiting for a typical greeting, typical introduction, but nothing about Bob was typical. He leans over to whisper (yet loud enough for the others around me to hear) “What is your room number? I want to talk to you.” What’s a girl to say except “323”.

Over the next few days we are together, we watched lighting bugs, drank cheap wine, and discussed everything about life, but very little about him. He refused to share. All I learned was that he was an older ex-Navy seal with tattoos in locations that are only chosen to prove one can withstand pain. He was involved in a real fight club because he could only find his soul when his body was too physically weak to function on its own. He called me out on my “guarded BS” and forced me to really evaluate how I viewed myself as a woman, not a 20-something girl. He was intense, passionate, and truly unlike anyone I had ever met (up to that point...because I had yet to meet Agent O ;) . We shared a few amazing moments, yet he would never kiss me on the lips or do anything that required him to let down HIS barriers. I knew the day he left would be the last day I’d ever see or hear from him and I was okay with that. Sometimes things are only meant for a moment.

Lesson learned: Whether it’s a phone number or a room number, sometimes a girl has no choice but to give it out.