Dear Good Behavior,
I met you while working at the Department of Health. You weren’t exactly working for the Department of Health…you were being contracted, if you will, to us to help with our office move across town. No biggie, I was being contracted from a temp agency to work (scanning documents) there too but we DEFINITELY weren’t from the same temp agency….and I was a college student so not having a full time job is okay… but I digress…
What agency were you with a friend of mine would later ask? Well...Where does the state of North Carolina find cheap (read: free) labor to move furniture? The same place they find people to make license plates and clean up our highways. That’s right: The fine members of society being detained by the Department of Corrections.
Nevertheless you were nice to look at (in a cabana-boy-I’d-never-get-wit kind of way) and clearly had a bit (read: lot) of bad boy in you so there was no reason not to be polite. I am a southern lady after all and it’s rude to not speak when spoken to. One day you decided you were going to get my number and when you didn't get it you decided you were going to intimidate me into it. Sorry buddy…not a chance. Some things you should know about me:
I don’t date guys who have to drink when someone says “Never have I ever been ordered to wear a monitoring bracelets in public.”
I don’t want to ever have to ask a guy I’m dating “What are you in for?”
I don’t have time to waste on people that I have no future with, like guys described in number 1 and 2
I don’t do things I don’t want to…so the more you ask, the more I refuse…
Getting loud at me about it at work is only going to increase the likelihood of number 4.
I’m not scared of you and your convict ass dude.
Weird people are attracted to me...and I'm pretty good at getting rid of them (...though you did put up a fight)
Lesson you should have learned: If a girl isn't willing to give you her number, she’s not into you.
You eventually stop bugging me about it and I'm thinking you're over it. Wrong.
What I did not count on was my (stupid) coworker. She decided me + you = the perfect match and gave you my cell phone number. Ugh. Yeah “five years for armed robbery” looks awesome on a resume and is just the kind of guy I want to bring home to my mama. I don't care if you were "almost out." (Note: He was in year 4 of his 5 year sentence) I will have to give you credit on figuring out the weakest link and exploiting the opportunity...too bad you got caught. Guess that's how you ended up in jail...but I digress again.
A couple days later at 8am I get a phone call from a random number. I answer it expecting it to hear one of my sorority sisters needing a ride or something and what do I hear: “You have a collect call from the Wake County Department of Corrections, will you accept the charges?” Immediate thought: “What the hell did I miss last night?” I say sure…and instead of a southern girl twang on the other end of the phone I get “Howya doin’ shawty?” (Thug for: “How are you doing this fine morning darling girl?”) Seriously?? But because I’m polite(-ish) I made up some excuse of why I can't talk now and hung up, promptly called into work for the next two days so I wouldn’t see you again before your “contract” was up and make a mental note to slash co-worker's tires at my earliest convenience. You don't see me for the rest of the week and you notice my absence from work as evidenced by the voicemails you left.
Lesson you should have learned: If a girl is willing to give up money to avoid you, she’s not into you.
You didn't and you called every morning for a week. Once the calls stop and I think I'm rid of you. Wrong...again.
Three weeks later I get a 7:00 AM phone call from a 919-515-**** number (Explanation to the reader: 515 is how all NC State campus phone numbers start) and I answer because I thought it was some campus office but NOOOOOOOO…it’s you. And you’re less than a mile from where I’m sleeping. FML. You want me to come meet you in some building before classes start at 8am because you’ve been “contracted” to help with some renovation on campus and you just "have to see me." Seriously?? I don’t get out of bed at 7am for anything (not even breakfast) and I have a special rule against it for convicted thugs. I say “I have to go to class”, you say “Where is your class I’ll meet you,” I say “I can’t hear you”, you repeat “I’ll meet you,” I say “You’re cutting out” and promptly hang up, sigh and go back to sleep.
Lesson you should have learned: If a girl is willing to go to an early class (even if it's fake) instead of talking to you, she’s not into you.
You didn’t and you called every morning for 2 weeks. I avoid all Engineering buildings (where I figured out you been placing the calls from a professors offices. I ignore all calls from university numbers (and as a result miss a few important ones.) But after those two weeks the calls stop and I figure you’re gone. That's right..wrong again.
Three months pass and I get a call from an unknown number. I don’t answer, as the above story has showed me the importance of screening calls. It’s you. The message: “Hey Shawty. You musta missed my calls. Judge let me out early on good behavior. Call me back so we can chill.”
Seriously??
Sigh.
-A.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Dear Mr. Awkward & Oblivious,
ladies and gentlemen, i present another guest blog:
Dear Mr.Awkward & Oblivious,
I was newly single when we met. In fact, we met at my exboyfriend's house only a week or two post break-up. I had decided to make an appearance at this party for my exboyfriend's roommate's birthday. And since I knew I could make my ex seriously jealous, I flirted with EVERY guy at the party. However you were oblivious to the warning signs that maybe I was just flirting to flirt, and was not actually interested in you.
Warning sign 1:
I gave out my number to one of your friends, who left the party relatively early in the night, and told YOU to tell him to call me.
Warning sign 2:
After warning sign 1 left, I had my sights set on a frat boy from Washington and Lee, because frankly he was the most attractive guy at the party. And was more heavily flirting with him, than any other guy at the party.
Warning sign 3:
After playing a few rounds of cards, I was getting more and more tipsy, so I ended up giving my number to almost every guy at the card table, including you, with no intention of hearing from them.
Warning Sign 4:
In front of you, my Ex's Roommate, who was a friend of yours, invited me to spend the night with him, "just to cuddle", which I probably would have done, if it weren't for warning sign 5.
Warning Sign 5:
I left the party with Washington and Lee. (To be clear, we went to my house just to make out. I (like W) am not a slut, seeing as I was commonly called a tease).
I'm not sure how you managed to not pick up on any of the signs that you didn't have a chance with me. Any guy with self respect would realize they didn't have a shot. You however, called me a few days later. You asked me out for a Saturday night. I already had plans, which was consequently a movie date with your friend from the party (see warning sign 1). So, you settled for asking me out to lunch. As a struggling college student, I lived by the motto "A girls got to eat", so I wasn't going to turn down a free meal. You picked me up and took me to a local Greek Restaurant, where we proceeded to make forced conversation. Afterward you took me home, and I think you expected me to invite you in. Did you really think you were getting an afternoon delight? Did I not make it completely obvious I was just looking for a free meal? In retrospect, I probably should have just gone to McD's and gotten a few items off the dollar menu to avoid this awkward encounter. So Mr.Awk, next time, it might behoove you to check the warning signs that a girl might just be using you. Because, for our date, it was simply just that.
M
Dear Mr.Awkward & Oblivious,
I was newly single when we met. In fact, we met at my exboyfriend's house only a week or two post break-up. I had decided to make an appearance at this party for my exboyfriend's roommate's birthday. And since I knew I could make my ex seriously jealous, I flirted with EVERY guy at the party. However you were oblivious to the warning signs that maybe I was just flirting to flirt, and was not actually interested in you.
Warning sign 1:
I gave out my number to one of your friends, who left the party relatively early in the night, and told YOU to tell him to call me.
Warning sign 2:
After warning sign 1 left, I had my sights set on a frat boy from Washington and Lee, because frankly he was the most attractive guy at the party. And was more heavily flirting with him, than any other guy at the party.
Warning sign 3:
After playing a few rounds of cards, I was getting more and more tipsy, so I ended up giving my number to almost every guy at the card table, including you, with no intention of hearing from them.
Warning Sign 4:
In front of you, my Ex's Roommate, who was a friend of yours, invited me to spend the night with him, "just to cuddle", which I probably would have done, if it weren't for warning sign 5.
Warning Sign 5:
I left the party with Washington and Lee. (To be clear, we went to my house just to make out. I (like W) am not a slut, seeing as I was commonly called a tease).
I'm not sure how you managed to not pick up on any of the signs that you didn't have a chance with me. Any guy with self respect would realize they didn't have a shot. You however, called me a few days later. You asked me out for a Saturday night. I already had plans, which was consequently a movie date with your friend from the party (see warning sign 1). So, you settled for asking me out to lunch. As a struggling college student, I lived by the motto "A girls got to eat", so I wasn't going to turn down a free meal. You picked me up and took me to a local Greek Restaurant, where we proceeded to make forced conversation. Afterward you took me home, and I think you expected me to invite you in. Did you really think you were getting an afternoon delight? Did I not make it completely obvious I was just looking for a free meal? In retrospect, I probably should have just gone to McD's and gotten a few items off the dollar menu to avoid this awkward encounter. So Mr.Awk, next time, it might behoove you to check the warning signs that a girl might just be using you. Because, for our date, it was simply just that.
M
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Dear Rugby Team,
I know when you invited me and a bunch of my sisters to a party you were expecting to meet girls. I know when we got drunk and were flirty and friendly towards you, it probably stroked your ego. But what I did not know, is that 2 of you would form an unwelcome attraction to me. Isn't that against the guy code or something?
I went out one night during Summer 2005. It was not part of the makeout contest, because I was so sunburned from the beach that I literally couldn't wear anything but a soft cotton dress that barely touched my skin. So I went to this party purely to drink and hang out with my friends.
Unfortunately, I think the entire rugby team was single at that time. R1 (Rugby dude #1) talked to me. But he was short (read: troll) so while I was polite enough to give him my number, I really wasn't all that into him. So I found it odd that he always kept calling. He even kept calling to invite me over to parties at his place on the regular. I took a date to one of these parties once. AND HE STILL KEPT CALLING. This makes me lose all respect for a guy. Sorry R1.
R2 (Rugby guy #2) turned out to be almost as short (troll, again), but fat as well. LOVELY. And he apparently did not make an impression on me, or get my phone number that fateful night. But giving this creeper his proper credit, he apparently took detailed notes on whatever I talked to him about that night...
Because the next day, I'm sitting at my reception desk on campus, minding my own business, when this fool walks up. I don't even recognize this kid. We had met approximately 8 hours ago. I had ZERO recollection. After awkwardly explaining that we met the night before at the rugby party, this fool continues to stand there and talk to me. I am the receptionist, it is my job to sit there and talk to people and answer phones. I was trapped. He stands to the side when other people come up, and just stares at me when I am on the phone. And then continues to try and make small talk. Which is hard when he remembers everything about me, but I don't know him from a hole in the wall. It was soooo awkward.
After literally standing in front of my desk for an hour, my boss starts to get creeped out, and she finally asks me to come help her with something in the copy room. THANK GOD.
And no, you still didn't get my number.
I went out one night during Summer 2005. It was not part of the makeout contest, because I was so sunburned from the beach that I literally couldn't wear anything but a soft cotton dress that barely touched my skin. So I went to this party purely to drink and hang out with my friends.
Unfortunately, I think the entire rugby team was single at that time. R1 (Rugby dude #1) talked to me. But he was short (read: troll) so while I was polite enough to give him my number, I really wasn't all that into him. So I found it odd that he always kept calling. He even kept calling to invite me over to parties at his place on the regular. I took a date to one of these parties once. AND HE STILL KEPT CALLING. This makes me lose all respect for a guy. Sorry R1.
R2 (Rugby guy #2) turned out to be almost as short (troll, again), but fat as well. LOVELY. And he apparently did not make an impression on me, or get my phone number that fateful night. But giving this creeper his proper credit, he apparently took detailed notes on whatever I talked to him about that night...
Because the next day, I'm sitting at my reception desk on campus, minding my own business, when this fool walks up. I don't even recognize this kid. We had met approximately 8 hours ago. I had ZERO recollection. After awkwardly explaining that we met the night before at the rugby party, this fool continues to stand there and talk to me. I am the receptionist, it is my job to sit there and talk to people and answer phones. I was trapped. He stands to the side when other people come up, and just stares at me when I am on the phone. And then continues to try and make small talk. Which is hard when he remembers everything about me, but I don't know him from a hole in the wall. It was soooo awkward.
After literally standing in front of my desk for an hour, my boss starts to get creeped out, and she finally asks me to come help her with something in the copy room. THANK GOD.
And no, you still didn't get my number.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Dear Plan B,
We met at the bar Saturday night. You were cute, you had two dogs, and you were well educated. All good things. You asked me out. I accepted. You suggested church. We go to the same church, so I agreed since I would already be going.
Perhaps it was my mistake to accept a date that would be occuring in a mere few hours. You texted me throughout the night, even after you left the bar. It should have been my first clue that you did not buy me or any of my friends a drink the entire night. C'mon dude. You were sitting at our table.
So anyway, you woke up bright and early for early service at church and said you would see me soon. Then you sent another text a few minutes later to tell me that you had left your car at the restaurant last night so you wouldn't be able to take me to church. So I told you that you were totally going on the blog. And here you are.
So you asked me what time I had free before Tuesday night, when you head out of town. I said Monday night. I'm a busy girl, and technically I was supposed to work out on Monday, but I could be flexible and skip it. So I told you I was free Monday after 7. You said ok. Today you text me to tell me that your plan is taking our dogs to the dog park.
It is freezing cold outside. As in it sleeted this morning. As in the dog park would be a muddy stinking mess. And really really cold. And I would have to wash the dog again when I got home. So i texted you back and said "Isn't it too cold and muddy for the dog park?"
Plan B: my dog prefer mud and I'm from PA girl. its not cold. but onto plan b [yes, he called me girl. this guy has a JD. wtf]
me: my dog prefers mud too but I don't prefer wrestling her into the bathtub. what's plan b?
Plan B: plan b is spontenaity. you plan. i don't. uh oh...
me: should we just skip it then? [ this was the text that was deemed nice enough by a panel of judges to send; it won out over "call me if you ever get a decent plan," and "i really don't feel like you're putting any effort into seeing me, so i'll pass. thanks"]
Plan B: k
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to fail at a first date before you even go on it. Seriously, you are 35 years old. As in old enough to know how to plan a date. I could have reservations and tickets to a movie in 10 minutes. Open Table and Fandango it. It's not exactly rocket science. The fact that you couldn't spare 10 minutes out of your day (and you work for yourself) means that impressing me was not high on your priority list. This zero lack of effort left me entirely underwhelmed.
Girls have to know what the plan is for dates. Because generally a first date is somewhere nice, so we have to dress up and not wear jeans with uggs or flip flops. Or if you were thinking of going to mini golf and go-carts, I wouldn't want to wear heels. You have to provide this heads up. We also need to know if we're eating dinner or not, and what time dinner will be. So if you have reservations at 9pm, I need to know to eat something first so I am not starving by the time dinner rolls around. And if you aren't involving food at all, then you should probably go date someone that needs to be on a diet. As in, not me.
Further, looking back, I think you might be a cheapskate. A decent dinner with drinks in Raleigh shouldn't cost more than $100. If you can't spare that for a first date to make a great first impression, you probably aren't in a financial place to be dating. Period. But you tried to do the "let me take you to church" and then after you screwed that up, you went for the "lets go stand in the freezing cold, dark, sketchy dog park." What do both of these things have in common: they are free and require no planning. What else do they have in common: you will not be dating me when you lead with those kind of ideas.
Update: So turns out that Plan B couldn't take me to dinner because he is fasting for Lent. I can't be hating on God... so the jury is still out on plan B...
Perhaps it was my mistake to accept a date that would be occuring in a mere few hours. You texted me throughout the night, even after you left the bar. It should have been my first clue that you did not buy me or any of my friends a drink the entire night. C'mon dude. You were sitting at our table.
So anyway, you woke up bright and early for early service at church and said you would see me soon. Then you sent another text a few minutes later to tell me that you had left your car at the restaurant last night so you wouldn't be able to take me to church. So I told you that you were totally going on the blog. And here you are.
So you asked me what time I had free before Tuesday night, when you head out of town. I said Monday night. I'm a busy girl, and technically I was supposed to work out on Monday, but I could be flexible and skip it. So I told you I was free Monday after 7. You said ok. Today you text me to tell me that your plan is taking our dogs to the dog park.
It is freezing cold outside. As in it sleeted this morning. As in the dog park would be a muddy stinking mess. And really really cold. And I would have to wash the dog again when I got home. So i texted you back and said "Isn't it too cold and muddy for the dog park?"
Plan B: my dog prefer mud and I'm from PA girl. its not cold. but onto plan b [yes, he called me girl. this guy has a JD. wtf]
me: my dog prefers mud too but I don't prefer wrestling her into the bathtub. what's plan b?
Plan B: plan b is spontenaity. you plan. i don't. uh oh...
me: should we just skip it then? [ this was the text that was deemed nice enough by a panel of judges to send; it won out over "call me if you ever get a decent plan," and "i really don't feel like you're putting any effort into seeing me, so i'll pass. thanks"]
Plan B: k
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to fail at a first date before you even go on it. Seriously, you are 35 years old. As in old enough to know how to plan a date. I could have reservations and tickets to a movie in 10 minutes. Open Table and Fandango it. It's not exactly rocket science. The fact that you couldn't spare 10 minutes out of your day (and you work for yourself) means that impressing me was not high on your priority list. This zero lack of effort left me entirely underwhelmed.
Girls have to know what the plan is for dates. Because generally a first date is somewhere nice, so we have to dress up and not wear jeans with uggs or flip flops. Or if you were thinking of going to mini golf and go-carts, I wouldn't want to wear heels. You have to provide this heads up. We also need to know if we're eating dinner or not, and what time dinner will be. So if you have reservations at 9pm, I need to know to eat something first so I am not starving by the time dinner rolls around. And if you aren't involving food at all, then you should probably go date someone that needs to be on a diet. As in, not me.
Further, looking back, I think you might be a cheapskate. A decent dinner with drinks in Raleigh shouldn't cost more than $100. If you can't spare that for a first date to make a great first impression, you probably aren't in a financial place to be dating. Period. But you tried to do the "let me take you to church" and then after you screwed that up, you went for the "lets go stand in the freezing cold, dark, sketchy dog park." What do both of these things have in common: they are free and require no planning. What else do they have in common: you will not be dating me when you lead with those kind of ideas.
Update: So turns out that Plan B couldn't take me to dinner because he is fasting for Lent. I can't be hating on God... so the jury is still out on plan B...
Sunday, March 27, 2011
If You Can't Be Nice, Look Nice
So last night, some girls and I discovered a mexican restuarant, within walking distance of my apartment that has $1.50 ritas every saturday night. Hello Heaven! And the food is delicious too. So my girls and I go for dinner and drinks.
by 8pm: We had a creeper thrown out of the restaurant for hitting on us. He had waved at me when I walked in, and I waved back in that "do I know you?" sort of way. He came by our table no less than 3 times, and awkwardly stood there for a minute before wandering off. Well, finally he had the courage to talk to us, which he proceeds to do by asking me twice where I live, twice where I go to school, and twice am I really a lawyer. OMG. I finally caught the waiter's eye who rescued us and kicked the creeper out. See, told you, I'm flypaper for freaks.
by 10pm: So a guy there mentioned that he knew the entire Beyonce Single Ladies dance by heart. I was like oh man I gotta see this. So S dared me to get a guy to go request Single Ladies. So I did. That's right, I had a straight man go up and request Single Ladies so that another straight man could dance, by himself, in the lobby of a Mexican restaurant. It was amazing.
by Midnight : I had met a guy who asked me out. He wanted to take me to church. I said I had to go to early service. So he got up at roughly 7am only to remember that he DD'd and his car was back at the restaurant. So I told him he was going on the blog. But I am intrigued and am supposed to go out with him soon, so we'll see how it goes.
In the meantime, here is a guest post from H recapping Summer 2005:
Memorable Quotes from Summer 2005:
So as the summer comes to a close and W heads to law school, we decided it was time to recap this summer's best quotes. Let me warn you that this entry is going to be very long. Here they are, in no particular order of course, for your reading enjoyment.
1) "Not shit."
I was on a date with the pervert from Duke (SBA) & he mentions that his birthday is coming up. I ask when and he tells me. Then he asks what I am getting him. Sorry bitch, I don't know you. This is our second date. I'm not buying you a damn present. And I sure as hell hope you don't intend me to offer you sexual favors as a gift because you saw how that went later in the night when you tried to have sex with me, remember? My response to his question was "not shit" and he laughed like I was kidding or something. Idiot.
2) "I do what I want."
W was talking to a guy she likes (I know, shocker. A guy W isn't trying to get rid of) and he asks her if she thought she'd be able to settle down one day with going to law school and being a big time kick ass lawyer and everything. Her response was, "I do what I want." Gotta love it people, gotta love it. This statement was so profound that W & I have incorporated it into our daily vocabulary. It's the best response in the world because it's not REALLY a response. And guess what, we DO do what we want!
3) "Nope. Mudcat."
W was text messaging back & forth with Sun (see her gooo fish entry to find out who that is) & she asked him when he grew a mustache. He asked how she knew he had it because he knew she wasn't at the game. He asked if one of her friends saw him out but was too cool to say hi & w's response was "nope. mudcat." This is because Mudcat knows about Sun & played against him that night & told W about it later that night when she went to see Mudcat. Talk about a slap in the face for Sun. He should have taken the hint when he found out that he was........ (see next quote)
4) "You're just a stat."
W is hanging out with Sun and some of his teammates in Florida when the topic of summer comes up. Ah yes summer, a time for random (ie: not always sexual) hookups. So Sun asks W how many guys she's hooked up with (see: not sex) this summer. Her response was 10. Then his teammate chimed in and noted that Sun was "just a stat." W agreed and Sun ended up looking like a fool. But he stuck around for more & he still proceeds to call, text, IM W like everyday as if she didn't use him. Get with the program idiot.
5) "Peace."
W & I are designated wingmen for A one night this summer. We thought we were going over to watch and movie and hang out and distract a few guys so A could move in on her guy. Well it turned into an all night drinking fest. The next morning I wake up early so we can get the fuck out of there and before I close the door, I turn to the guy I was assigned (he's still in the bed) and I say "peace." Hahahahahahah how hilarious. We spent the night hooking up (see: NOT sex) and I leave early and all I say is peace. No hanging around, no trying to exchange numbers, nothin. If that's not a gangsta move, I don't know what is people.
6) "Nope. I'm good."
W was getting a ride home from the bar and the DD knowingly passed her apartment about 3-4 times while dropping off other people in the car. W was in the backseat the whole time and when she was finally the last one left in the car, he turns to her and invites her to sit up front, so he could make his move. What's a girl to do? Well if you're W, you buckle your seatbelt, look him in the eye and say "nope. I'm good." while he chauffers her back to her apartment. I mean, when he knowling passes your place 3-4 times then tries to put the moves on you in the car, it's time to go home.
7) "I'm NOT having sex with you."
If you read my entry "don't let the door hit ya where the look lord split ya" then you already know the origin of this quote. I'm just going to paste in a section of that entry... "Furthermore, this guy somehow thinks I am the kind of girl who would sleep with him on a second date. I guess he didn't get the memo. Nor does he pay too much attention to my personality. He ends up looking like an idiot naked as a jay bird while I tell him in true H fashion "We are NOT having sex..." (for those of you who were present, think of the same tone used in "I did NOT bite you!")... Strike two, what the fuck is this guy thinking."
8) "Let's try something new."
I can't reveal the full extent of this quote because it would give away a cardinal girl secret for how to hook up with a guy without acutally hooking up, but he thinks you are. But, I will do what I can to relay the events without revealing too much detail. Here we go: X was drunk & tired and she had a boy over. She wasn't really wanting to hook up that night but he was big time. X did kind of like this guy but she was too tired to do anything useful for him. So what does she do? She says "let's try something new" and proceeds to do the "pretend hookup," Classic move on X's part. The secret has been passed along to other girls and we've been benefitting ever since.
9) "I'm just not that into you."
I talked about this in a previous entry as well. So here it is "I broke it off with Spelling Bee Champ. I felt kind of bad because when he called me back he sounded really excited to make plans for the weekend. He was also surprised that I didn't want to see him anymore. Oh well, at least now I can stop cringing thinking about the next time we would kiss.... " Bascially what I said was "I'm just not that into you, I was but I'm not anymore." If you need to know why, you can read the previously mentioned entry where I broke down all his strikes.
10) "You were a mistake."
One night W & John Who were hanging out and he was trying to get her to make out again. He was trying to convince her by saying that they already made out so why not again. W looked at this poor soul and said "Yeah, about that, you were a mistake...." Homefry was seriously shocked. I mean, we all have those people we've hooked up with that we regret, right? But how many of us can say that we've looked them straight in the eye and TOLD them they were a mistake to their face? Not many. W can though, and that's because she's gangsta like that.
11) "Drunj in Napa Valley."
While visiting S in San Francisco this summer, he took me to Napa Valley for wine tasting. A few vineyards later and I'm drunk. As you already know, it's not too hard to get me drunk. So there I am, in Napa Valley, drunk, and I decide that it's the perfect time to text W...."drunj in napa valley." W's favorite part about the text message was that I managed to spell DRUNK wrong but somehow got NAPA VALLEY right. What can I say? The j & k are on the same number on the keypad and I made a typo in my wine induced drunkened state.
12) "John who?"
Driving back from Jacksonville, FL W gets a phone call from Turkey/Pool Boy (yes, this AFTER she told him he was a mistake. Do stupid boys ever get it? Apparently not...) So she answers and he says hey W, this is John. She pauses and goes "John who?" Hahaha nice! She doesn't even remember the guy. I mean how could she? There were many boys after him and he wasn't all the memorable to being with. The next day he chased her down while she was walking her dog. This guy is a piece of work huh?
And finally, an honorable mention goes to P....
"You're a good kisser. I bet you give good head."
P was making out with a baseball player (was there ever any doubt?) and he pulls away and looks at her with a straight face and says "you're a good kisser. I bet you give good head." WTF!!! I guess that was him trying to get her to give him head. Well it didn't work. All I have to say is if some fuck tried that line on W or me, he would have been real sorry.... P was nicer about it, even though she didn't take his hint (good girl!)
by 8pm: We had a creeper thrown out of the restaurant for hitting on us. He had waved at me when I walked in, and I waved back in that "do I know you?" sort of way. He came by our table no less than 3 times, and awkwardly stood there for a minute before wandering off. Well, finally he had the courage to talk to us, which he proceeds to do by asking me twice where I live, twice where I go to school, and twice am I really a lawyer. OMG. I finally caught the waiter's eye who rescued us and kicked the creeper out. See, told you, I'm flypaper for freaks.
by 10pm: So a guy there mentioned that he knew the entire Beyonce Single Ladies dance by heart. I was like oh man I gotta see this. So S dared me to get a guy to go request Single Ladies. So I did. That's right, I had a straight man go up and request Single Ladies so that another straight man could dance, by himself, in the lobby of a Mexican restaurant. It was amazing.
by Midnight : I had met a guy who asked me out. He wanted to take me to church. I said I had to go to early service. So he got up at roughly 7am only to remember that he DD'd and his car was back at the restaurant. So I told him he was going on the blog. But I am intrigued and am supposed to go out with him soon, so we'll see how it goes.
In the meantime, here is a guest post from H recapping Summer 2005:
Memorable Quotes from Summer 2005:
So as the summer comes to a close and W heads to law school, we decided it was time to recap this summer's best quotes. Let me warn you that this entry is going to be very long. Here they are, in no particular order of course, for your reading enjoyment.
1) "Not shit."
I was on a date with the pervert from Duke (SBA) & he mentions that his birthday is coming up. I ask when and he tells me. Then he asks what I am getting him. Sorry bitch, I don't know you. This is our second date. I'm not buying you a damn present. And I sure as hell hope you don't intend me to offer you sexual favors as a gift because you saw how that went later in the night when you tried to have sex with me, remember? My response to his question was "not shit" and he laughed like I was kidding or something. Idiot.
2) "I do what I want."
W was talking to a guy she likes (I know, shocker. A guy W isn't trying to get rid of) and he asks her if she thought she'd be able to settle down one day with going to law school and being a big time kick ass lawyer and everything. Her response was, "I do what I want." Gotta love it people, gotta love it. This statement was so profound that W & I have incorporated it into our daily vocabulary. It's the best response in the world because it's not REALLY a response. And guess what, we DO do what we want!
3) "Nope. Mudcat."
W was text messaging back & forth with Sun (see her gooo fish entry to find out who that is) & she asked him when he grew a mustache. He asked how she knew he had it because he knew she wasn't at the game. He asked if one of her friends saw him out but was too cool to say hi & w's response was "nope. mudcat." This is because Mudcat knows about Sun & played against him that night & told W about it later that night when she went to see Mudcat. Talk about a slap in the face for Sun. He should have taken the hint when he found out that he was........ (see next quote)
4) "You're just a stat."
W is hanging out with Sun and some of his teammates in Florida when the topic of summer comes up. Ah yes summer, a time for random (ie: not always sexual) hookups. So Sun asks W how many guys she's hooked up with (see: not sex) this summer. Her response was 10. Then his teammate chimed in and noted that Sun was "just a stat." W agreed and Sun ended up looking like a fool. But he stuck around for more & he still proceeds to call, text, IM W like everyday as if she didn't use him. Get with the program idiot.
5) "Peace."
W & I are designated wingmen for A one night this summer. We thought we were going over to watch and movie and hang out and distract a few guys so A could move in on her guy. Well it turned into an all night drinking fest. The next morning I wake up early so we can get the fuck out of there and before I close the door, I turn to the guy I was assigned (he's still in the bed) and I say "peace." Hahahahahahah how hilarious. We spent the night hooking up (see: NOT sex) and I leave early and all I say is peace. No hanging around, no trying to exchange numbers, nothin. If that's not a gangsta move, I don't know what is people.
6) "Nope. I'm good."
W was getting a ride home from the bar and the DD knowingly passed her apartment about 3-4 times while dropping off other people in the car. W was in the backseat the whole time and when she was finally the last one left in the car, he turns to her and invites her to sit up front, so he could make his move. What's a girl to do? Well if you're W, you buckle your seatbelt, look him in the eye and say "nope. I'm good." while he chauffers her back to her apartment. I mean, when he knowling passes your place 3-4 times then tries to put the moves on you in the car, it's time to go home.
7) "I'm NOT having sex with you."
If you read my entry "don't let the door hit ya where the look lord split ya" then you already know the origin of this quote. I'm just going to paste in a section of that entry... "Furthermore, this guy somehow thinks I am the kind of girl who would sleep with him on a second date. I guess he didn't get the memo. Nor does he pay too much attention to my personality. He ends up looking like an idiot naked as a jay bird while I tell him in true H fashion "We are NOT having sex..." (for those of you who were present, think of the same tone used in "I did NOT bite you!")... Strike two, what the fuck is this guy thinking."
8) "Let's try something new."
I can't reveal the full extent of this quote because it would give away a cardinal girl secret for how to hook up with a guy without acutally hooking up, but he thinks you are. But, I will do what I can to relay the events without revealing too much detail. Here we go: X was drunk & tired and she had a boy over. She wasn't really wanting to hook up that night but he was big time. X did kind of like this guy but she was too tired to do anything useful for him. So what does she do? She says "let's try something new" and proceeds to do the "pretend hookup," Classic move on X's part. The secret has been passed along to other girls and we've been benefitting ever since.
9) "I'm just not that into you."
I talked about this in a previous entry as well. So here it is "I broke it off with Spelling Bee Champ. I felt kind of bad because when he called me back he sounded really excited to make plans for the weekend. He was also surprised that I didn't want to see him anymore. Oh well, at least now I can stop cringing thinking about the next time we would kiss.... " Bascially what I said was "I'm just not that into you, I was but I'm not anymore." If you need to know why, you can read the previously mentioned entry where I broke down all his strikes.
10) "You were a mistake."
One night W & John Who were hanging out and he was trying to get her to make out again. He was trying to convince her by saying that they already made out so why not again. W looked at this poor soul and said "Yeah, about that, you were a mistake...." Homefry was seriously shocked. I mean, we all have those people we've hooked up with that we regret, right? But how many of us can say that we've looked them straight in the eye and TOLD them they were a mistake to their face? Not many. W can though, and that's because she's gangsta like that.
11) "Drunj in Napa Valley."
While visiting S in San Francisco this summer, he took me to Napa Valley for wine tasting. A few vineyards later and I'm drunk. As you already know, it's not too hard to get me drunk. So there I am, in Napa Valley, drunk, and I decide that it's the perfect time to text W...."drunj in napa valley." W's favorite part about the text message was that I managed to spell DRUNK wrong but somehow got NAPA VALLEY right. What can I say? The j & k are on the same number on the keypad and I made a typo in my wine induced drunkened state.
12) "John who?"
Driving back from Jacksonville, FL W gets a phone call from Turkey/Pool Boy (yes, this AFTER she told him he was a mistake. Do stupid boys ever get it? Apparently not...) So she answers and he says hey W, this is John. She pauses and goes "John who?" Hahaha nice! She doesn't even remember the guy. I mean how could she? There were many boys after him and he wasn't all the memorable to being with. The next day he chased her down while she was walking her dog. This guy is a piece of work huh?
And finally, an honorable mention goes to P....
"You're a good kisser. I bet you give good head."
P was making out with a baseball player (was there ever any doubt?) and he pulls away and looks at her with a straight face and says "you're a good kisser. I bet you give good head." WTF!!! I guess that was him trying to get her to give him head. Well it didn't work. All I have to say is if some fuck tried that line on W or me, he would have been real sorry.... P was nicer about it, even though she didn't take his hint (good girl!)
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Dear Team,
The final guy from the Great Underwear Contest of 2005 was some random 3L. It was my birthday party. None of the roster was at my party, and apparently the bff told me I had to make out with a law student before heading off to law school. Always a people-pleaser, I obliged.
As for the rest of the guys... here is the weekend recap I gave to the BFF.
Time for the weekend recap.
This Friday night was B’s going away party. Sad to see you go B. So my presence was required. Now Goldfish wanted to see me. I know this because he has been all about me ever since I got over my infatuation with him. So I tell him that I will be at the party and that he may attend. He attends. (With earrings... lose the earrings Goldfish. You are already hot. Do not wear more jewelry than me k thanks)
At this party I am talking with Goldfish when low and behold another fish calls. This would be the Mudcat. So I go outside to talk to the Mudcat. For about 40 minutes. I do not care that Goldfish is inside probably wondering wtf happened to me.
Anyways, Goldfish is now my DD. So we leave the party and him and his friends and I go back to my place to drink and hang out. ATTENTION Goldfish: if your goal of the night is to finally get up enough courage to kiss me (again), you should not bring 3 friends with you, you moron. So after a while, their other friend (the one H made out with) gets home and invites us all over for beer pong. At this point it's 1:30 in the morning and I'm already home. I'm supposed to not be lying to the Mudcat anymore (he wasn't thrilled I drove to Florida to see a rival team/player) so I decide to just stay put. So I walk those guys out.
On the way downstairs past baseball player number 2's place (Neighbor), Goldfish's dumb friend decides to push open his already cracked open door. So there I am, standing there. Now I knew that a few hours ago, two of my sorority sisters had been there. So I'm like "hey, are *** and ***** here?" And one of the many athlete's there that I have never met before in my life goes "No, but ****(Neighbor) your friend is here."
So I'm like oh ass. Here we go again. So I turn to leave and here comes the baseball player #2 (Neighbor). He follows me up to my apartment where I have him play with my dog, watch TV, and in general turn my head away from him trying to kiss me a million times.
Finally my girls get back to his place and find out where I am and who I'm with and place a rescue call and we get back downstairs safe and sound. However I do have to finally give him my real phone number. That will play in this story later…
While at this party I start getting text messages from baseball player numero uno (Sun). Guess he misread the have a nice life memo.
SATURDAY.
I thought Saturday was gonna be a tame night. I did not go out. I stayed in and watched M get drunk. It was highly entertaining. But I mean the party we were supposed to go to was canceled and H was still on her marathon date that included a baseball game (it was the theme of the summer I guess) so we just sat on my balcony and watched cars get towed. Yay Raleigh nightlife.
So anyways, I talked to the Mudcat. One baseball player down. Two to go.
I take M home and arrive back at my apartment at the same time as Neighbor and his crew. He is with some girl. I found it hilarious. He didn't even say hello. His friends walked ahead and were waiting at his door. I was next and then came him and his girl up the stairs behind me. One of his friends (who happens to play basketball too and subsequently is huge and blocked half my stairway causing me to go out of my way to get around him) takes one look at me and yells out "Yo, ****(Neighbor), isn't this the girl you like?"… I could have died. Nothing like your friend saying that in front of the girl you like who happens to be sober and in front of the booty call all at the same time right? Anyways, must not have worked out for him and that girl cause I definitely got a call from him about half an hour later. Call screened.
And then I get home and there is an IM waiting from the Sun: "W, I know this is way out of line but I miss talking to you. Call me tomorrow."
He did not get a call back. And neither did Neighbor.
As for the rest of the guys... here is the weekend recap I gave to the BFF.
Time for the weekend recap.
This Friday night was B’s going away party. Sad to see you go B. So my presence was required. Now Goldfish wanted to see me. I know this because he has been all about me ever since I got over my infatuation with him. So I tell him that I will be at the party and that he may attend. He attends. (With earrings... lose the earrings Goldfish. You are already hot. Do not wear more jewelry than me k thanks)
At this party I am talking with Goldfish when low and behold another fish calls. This would be the Mudcat. So I go outside to talk to the Mudcat. For about 40 minutes. I do not care that Goldfish is inside probably wondering wtf happened to me.
Anyways, Goldfish is now my DD. So we leave the party and him and his friends and I go back to my place to drink and hang out. ATTENTION Goldfish: if your goal of the night is to finally get up enough courage to kiss me (again), you should not bring 3 friends with you, you moron. So after a while, their other friend (the one H made out with) gets home and invites us all over for beer pong. At this point it's 1:30 in the morning and I'm already home. I'm supposed to not be lying to the Mudcat anymore (he wasn't thrilled I drove to Florida to see a rival team/player) so I decide to just stay put. So I walk those guys out.
On the way downstairs past baseball player number 2's place (Neighbor), Goldfish's dumb friend decides to push open his already cracked open door. So there I am, standing there. Now I knew that a few hours ago, two of my sorority sisters had been there. So I'm like "hey, are *** and ***** here?" And one of the many athlete's there that I have never met before in my life goes "No, but ****(Neighbor) your friend is here."
So I'm like oh ass. Here we go again. So I turn to leave and here comes the baseball player #2 (Neighbor). He follows me up to my apartment where I have him play with my dog, watch TV, and in general turn my head away from him trying to kiss me a million times.
Finally my girls get back to his place and find out where I am and who I'm with and place a rescue call and we get back downstairs safe and sound. However I do have to finally give him my real phone number. That will play in this story later…
While at this party I start getting text messages from baseball player numero uno (Sun). Guess he misread the have a nice life memo.
SATURDAY.
I thought Saturday was gonna be a tame night. I did not go out. I stayed in and watched M get drunk. It was highly entertaining. But I mean the party we were supposed to go to was canceled and H was still on her marathon date that included a baseball game (it was the theme of the summer I guess) so we just sat on my balcony and watched cars get towed. Yay Raleigh nightlife.
So anyways, I talked to the Mudcat. One baseball player down. Two to go.
I take M home and arrive back at my apartment at the same time as Neighbor and his crew. He is with some girl. I found it hilarious. He didn't even say hello. His friends walked ahead and were waiting at his door. I was next and then came him and his girl up the stairs behind me. One of his friends (who happens to play basketball too and subsequently is huge and blocked half my stairway causing me to go out of my way to get around him) takes one look at me and yells out "Yo, ****(Neighbor), isn't this the girl you like?"… I could have died. Nothing like your friend saying that in front of the girl you like who happens to be sober and in front of the booty call all at the same time right? Anyways, must not have worked out for him and that girl cause I definitely got a call from him about half an hour later. Call screened.
And then I get home and there is an IM waiting from the Sun: "W, I know this is way out of line but I miss talking to you. Call me tomorrow."
He did not get a call back. And neither did Neighbor.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Dear Sun(shine state),
Sometime in early July, Sun kept asking me to come see him in Florida. Jacksonville is only about 6 hours from Raleigh, so I rounded up a group of girls and we made the trip. M (who was talking with a ball player on the Mudcats team), me, P (who got us into this mess) and H (who was recovering from a drunken trip to NYC).
So we left Friday morning, and arrived at the team's hotel in time to get ready and make it to their game. We decided to walk to the game so we could drink more. We had nice seats, and sat next to the guys clocking the pitches from the opposing team. Naturally we made friends with them, and since they were on the opposing team, they were staying at the same hotel. (This team was the Montgomery Biscuits. I kid you not, look them up). The Sun was very attentive and sent the bat boys up with grape double bubble. He's a quick one.
So anyway, after the game we all (both teams and us) head to the bars. But first Sun wanted to take me to dinner, since we hadn't eaten dinner yet. So we head to the only place open that late, Hooter's. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have been on a date to Hooter's. I tried to pay for my own meal so it wouldn't count as a date, but he insisted... Oh, Sun, you have so much to learn about women.
Lots of drinking occured at the bars, except for H who drank water, because her liver was failing post-NYC. A good time is had by all. M snags her a Sun (a girl after my own heart, given the Mudcat she was still texting) and spends the night at his place. Which means that the rest of us had to go into the ghettos of Jacksonville the next day, with no GPS, to find her. Awesome. We spent the afternoon sobering up, eating Sonic, and then we headed over to their game that night.
Except, after eating crappy government cheese on our nachos and getting hot and bored, we decided to go back to the hotel and get ready to go out. Which led to an angry text from Sun, who got to pitch that night, and I did not stay to see it. Sorry for partying.
But, being boys, they all got over it and we went out to the bars again. The bar owner loved us (who doesn't?) and bought us a lot of shots. When closing time came, I started to chug my drink and that's when a bouncer gave me a solo cup and said I could take it to-go. I heart florida! So somehow, the party gets split up on the walk back to the hotel. H and I end up talking to a guy from Pensacola with fur on his tennis shoes. No joke!
We arrive back at the hotel, and P is no where to be found. Turns out, she was licking a Biscuit....
The next day we got up and returned to Raleigh. My infatuation was pretty much over with Sun. I had too many other boys on deck in Raleigh.
So we left Friday morning, and arrived at the team's hotel in time to get ready and make it to their game. We decided to walk to the game so we could drink more. We had nice seats, and sat next to the guys clocking the pitches from the opposing team. Naturally we made friends with them, and since they were on the opposing team, they were staying at the same hotel. (This team was the Montgomery Biscuits. I kid you not, look them up). The Sun was very attentive and sent the bat boys up with grape double bubble. He's a quick one.
So anyway, after the game we all (both teams and us) head to the bars. But first Sun wanted to take me to dinner, since we hadn't eaten dinner yet. So we head to the only place open that late, Hooter's. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have been on a date to Hooter's. I tried to pay for my own meal so it wouldn't count as a date, but he insisted... Oh, Sun, you have so much to learn about women.
Lots of drinking occured at the bars, except for H who drank water, because her liver was failing post-NYC. A good time is had by all. M snags her a Sun (a girl after my own heart, given the Mudcat she was still texting) and spends the night at his place. Which means that the rest of us had to go into the ghettos of Jacksonville the next day, with no GPS, to find her. Awesome. We spent the afternoon sobering up, eating Sonic, and then we headed over to their game that night.
Except, after eating crappy government cheese on our nachos and getting hot and bored, we decided to go back to the hotel and get ready to go out. Which led to an angry text from Sun, who got to pitch that night, and I did not stay to see it. Sorry for partying.
But, being boys, they all got over it and we went out to the bars again. The bar owner loved us (who doesn't?) and bought us a lot of shots. When closing time came, I started to chug my drink and that's when a bouncer gave me a solo cup and said I could take it to-go. I heart florida! So somehow, the party gets split up on the walk back to the hotel. H and I end up talking to a guy from Pensacola with fur on his tennis shoes. No joke!
We arrive back at the hotel, and P is no where to be found. Turns out, she was licking a Biscuit....
The next day we got up and returned to Raleigh. My infatuation was pretty much over with Sun. I had too many other boys on deck in Raleigh.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Dear Neighbor and Mudcat,
So, as previously mentioned, Sun left town with his team. Leaving me to my own devices. My neighbors happened to be baseball players for NC State, and my sorority sisters dated or were friends with many of them. So one night, after drinking at at house party, I got in full contest mode and made out with him.
He had just had tommy-john surgery on his elbow. So it was in this huge contraption thing, and it stuck out at weird angles. But I had a contest to win, so I got the kiss and then tried to send him home. Only he tried to pretend he was too drunk to go home. WTF? He lives one floor down. I was like, well, I'm gonna go to bed... and I went to my bedroom and shut the door. Miraculously, he managed to sober up and get back downstairs.
So that Monday night, the girls all hit up our usual hangout, the Flying Saucer for pint night. I was talking to some cute guy from my German class when I got drafted into wingman duty. By P. Because low and behold she had met up with the Mudcats.
So, throughout the night, I had been texting with the Sun. So I knew that despite trouncing the Mudcats the previous week, they had gotten their tails handed to them that night by some other team. Which I happened to mention. So, long story short, I ended up talking to one of their players, Mudcat (first or third baseman, can't remember). After last call, 3 other girls and I, along with 3 Mudcats headed back to my place for the after party.
P. decided she was hungry, and since I never have any food in the fridge, she opened a can of green beans and had those. Totally random and gross. M. and her guy were hitting it off. While, poor A, who I think was DD that night, couldn't shake her ballplayer. A announced she was headed home. Her player took this as a cue to walk her to her car. Where apparently he tried to kiss her and keep her from leaving. A is not one to be trifled with. She kneed him in the place where the sun doesn't shine and drove herself home.
So now I am actively talking to Sun and Mudcat on the regular. We're talking hours of phone calls a day. As in one would call, we'd talk, and then the other would call. Like clockwork. Since they had the same job, they were free at the same weirdo times.
And of course Mudcat wants me to see his games. So, I go prancing up to the same will call window I had just been to multiple times the previous week and ask for my player passes. The guy, recognizing me, starts looking at the visitor list. And I was like "nope, this time I'm playing for the hometeam...."
Awkward...
He had just had tommy-john surgery on his elbow. So it was in this huge contraption thing, and it stuck out at weird angles. But I had a contest to win, so I got the kiss and then tried to send him home. Only he tried to pretend he was too drunk to go home. WTF? He lives one floor down. I was like, well, I'm gonna go to bed... and I went to my bedroom and shut the door. Miraculously, he managed to sober up and get back downstairs.
So that Monday night, the girls all hit up our usual hangout, the Flying Saucer for pint night. I was talking to some cute guy from my German class when I got drafted into wingman duty. By P. Because low and behold she had met up with the Mudcats.
So, throughout the night, I had been texting with the Sun. So I knew that despite trouncing the Mudcats the previous week, they had gotten their tails handed to them that night by some other team. Which I happened to mention. So, long story short, I ended up talking to one of their players, Mudcat (first or third baseman, can't remember). After last call, 3 other girls and I, along with 3 Mudcats headed back to my place for the after party.
P. decided she was hungry, and since I never have any food in the fridge, she opened a can of green beans and had those. Totally random and gross. M. and her guy were hitting it off. While, poor A, who I think was DD that night, couldn't shake her ballplayer. A announced she was headed home. Her player took this as a cue to walk her to her car. Where apparently he tried to kiss her and keep her from leaving. A is not one to be trifled with. She kneed him in the place where the sun doesn't shine and drove herself home.
So now I am actively talking to Sun and Mudcat on the regular. We're talking hours of phone calls a day. As in one would call, we'd talk, and then the other would call. Like clockwork. Since they had the same job, they were free at the same weirdo times.
And of course Mudcat wants me to see his games. So, I go prancing up to the same will call window I had just been to multiple times the previous week and ask for my player passes. The guy, recognizing me, starts looking at the visitor list. And I was like "nope, this time I'm playing for the hometeam...."
Awkward...
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Dear Sun/Batter Up!
Hi, my name is W. and i like baseball players. It started sophomore year of college, when I dated a college baseball player (from a different NC college). Anyhow, he was a shortstop, and really cute, and that is where my love affair began. To be fair, I think the actual baseball game itself is rather slow and boring. I'd much rather watch football. But, the tight white pants and the all-American look of the the baseball player has hooked me. If I had a "look" that I go for, baseball player would be it. Tall, well-groomed, muscular but not too beefy, tan. MMMM...
Anyway, so one night a friend, P, had met a bunch of minor league baseball players from Jacksonville at a bar. They gave her a bunch of passes to the next nights game. She invited me. Being as I didn't have shinola to do, I went, along with a few other girls. We looked really cute in our sundresses. And by really cute I mean, WAY OVERDRESSED, to attend a game at the Mudcat's stadium in Zebulon, NC. Seriously, the dress code of the evening was "jean overalls." Our seats were, suprise suprise, right behind the visiting teams's bull pen. So we did what any normal group of girls would do, we flirted with the pitchers. We even sent them to the dugout at one point to bring us some grape double-bubble because the normal stuff wasn't cutting it for us.
After the game, we met the team in downtown Raleigh for drinks and a good time. And that's where Sun (a pitcher) and I hit it off. He was really tall, blonde, hot, and super duper sweet. So we talked for forever, and he asked me to come to the rest of their games. I think we ended up going to like 2 more. And when you go on "player's pass" at the Mudcat stadium, you have to prance up to the will call and say the player's name, etc. So I did that twice that week. Then the Suns' games with the Mudcats ended and they headed off. But Sun and I continued to chat every day before and after his games. Like I said he was super sweet and fun, but he was also a baseball player who didn't live anywhere near me, and spent half his time traveling. So, while fun, I never considered Sun as anything serious. This will be important, because the next two guys on the Summer 2005 roster were also baseball players... and the summer got a whole lot more interesting.
Anyway, so one night a friend, P, had met a bunch of minor league baseball players from Jacksonville at a bar. They gave her a bunch of passes to the next nights game. She invited me. Being as I didn't have shinola to do, I went, along with a few other girls. We looked really cute in our sundresses. And by really cute I mean, WAY OVERDRESSED, to attend a game at the Mudcat's stadium in Zebulon, NC. Seriously, the dress code of the evening was "jean overalls." Our seats were, suprise suprise, right behind the visiting teams's bull pen. So we did what any normal group of girls would do, we flirted with the pitchers. We even sent them to the dugout at one point to bring us some grape double-bubble because the normal stuff wasn't cutting it for us.
After the game, we met the team in downtown Raleigh for drinks and a good time. And that's where Sun (a pitcher) and I hit it off. He was really tall, blonde, hot, and super duper sweet. So we talked for forever, and he asked me to come to the rest of their games. I think we ended up going to like 2 more. And when you go on "player's pass" at the Mudcat stadium, you have to prance up to the will call and say the player's name, etc. So I did that twice that week. Then the Suns' games with the Mudcats ended and they headed off. But Sun and I continued to chat every day before and after his games. Like I said he was super sweet and fun, but he was also a baseball player who didn't live anywhere near me, and spent half his time traveling. So, while fun, I never considered Sun as anything serious. This will be important, because the next two guys on the Summer 2005 roster were also baseball players... and the summer got a whole lot more interesting.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Dear Goldfish (and an [updated] essay on wingmen),
Before y'all get your panties in a wad about all these guest posts and summer 2005 flashbacks, just know that 99 cent well drinks are in the forecast for this weekend. So there should be nothing but trouble to come out of that. ;) And, I am leaning on my friends for guest blogs that I know they have ready to go, if they will just type them up.
To preface Goldfish, I present to you an essay on Wingmen, written by the bff.
The Much Anticipated... Critically Acclaimed Entry of the Year.....
WINGMEN!
Ah yes, the handy dandy wingman. Let me define this word once and for all. A wingman is a person who plays a vital role in the hook up potential of a friend. The wingman can be a distracter, an advocator, and even a participator. Let us discuss each of these important roles in more detail.
The distracter. This might be the wingman’s most popular purpose. I always work better with examples so lets set up a little scenario to understand this role a little better. Bob & Joe are at a party. Bob is trying to hook up with Sue. Sue is at the party with Jane. Naturally, Joe becomes Bob’s wingman in Bob’s quest to get his freak on with Sue. Joe’s job is to distract Jane away from Sue so Bob can make his move. Joe does a fabulous wingman job & Bob & Sue do the damn thing.
Now let me say at this point, that the wingman role is not exclusive. Some people may fall into a pattern and always end up playing wingman and never actually being on the other side of the equation (which has no name at this point, strangely enough). But it is totally within the realm of possibility that Bob & Joe could switch roles the very next night and on and on.
The advocator. This role is very important because it can directly impact the hook up potential for the evening. Let’s use the same characters in this example to keep thing simple. Bob, Joe, Sue & Jane are at a party. Let’s say this time Joe wants to hook up with Sue (hey, maybe Sue’s a whore, who are we to judge?) So tonight, Bob is playing wingman for Joe. Bob goes and talks to Sue at the party, bar, wherever. Bob proceeds to talk Joe up to Sue. He goes on and on about what a great guy he is and how he’s the bee’s knees and whatever whatever. Joe steps in and leaves Bob to his devices while Joe goes to talk to Sue. Suddenly Sue has all these amazing thoughts in her head about Joe & since she’s a whore a maybe had too much to drink, Joe succeeds in his goal of the evening…..whatever that might have been…
Finally, the participator! This is the wingman’s favorite role to play because it means they can participate in the hooking up festivities as well! Bob, Joe, Jane & Sue are out again (surprise surprise). Bob wants to get with Jane this time, I mean he know she’s desperate for some attention so he’s going to work this to his advantage. Bob needs Joe to play wingman for him and get Sue’s attention away from Jane. It works and the four end up hooking up with each other—everyone is happy and there you have it.
That about the extent of the wingman. Perhaps there is more to it, but in my experience, those are the 3 main functions.
Another friend wrote in today with additional wingmen:
The facilitator
Assuming the position of the facilitator/baitandswticher wingman (or woman) is most useful when your friend is either has little to no game of their own, or when you are approached by someone who your friend has already claimed. For example. Sue and Jane are out at a bar (alcoholics). Jane says to Sue "Damn, look at Joe over there looking fine". Unfortunately, Joe comes over to Sue and buys her a drink. Wrong girl Joe! Sue makes nice for a little while, then starts to look for a way out or an exit strategy. The exit strategy can be anything from "Oh look, there's my boyfriend now" or "excuse me while I use the bathroom", depending on the severity of the situation. Sue finds a reason to introduce Jane to Joe, and then employs her exit strategy. Viola! Joe and Jane are now talking, good work wingwoman Sue. This is similar to a screen in basketball, or a bait and switch tactic. The same could be happen if Jane was just simply to shy to talk to Joe. This is a good wingman strategy, however it becomes faulty with stage 5 clingers, or if the person you are trying to wingman for is fugly.
For those of you wondering, a stage 5 clinger is: anyone who doesnt get the idea that the person they want, want's nothing to do with them" ex "Jane should stop calling my boyfriend before i beat the hell out of that stage 5 clinger"
I would like to add in a wingman title of my own. This is the rescuer/cockblocker. This is the wingman who will come to your aid when you are being hit on by a troll. This wingman will recognize the situation and immediately come to your aid by discussing your boyfriend, your 7am conference call, your herpes outbreak, or anything else that will get rid of said troll. The rescuer is often mistaken for a cockblocker when rescuing inebriated friends from a troll. But, a rescuer is still a rescuer if your wingman knows that you would not be talking to said troll in a proper (read: sober) state of mind. But I guess to the troll, the rescuer will always be the cockblocker. Oh well.
>>>>>>>>>>>
So back to Goldfish. One summer night, the bff and I tagged along with A to her crush's house party (at his parent's huge house inside-the-beltline). We were specifically there to be her wingmen so that she could get some alone time with her crush. We arrive at the party, and immediately notice a shortage of guys. I immediately switch to my tried and true principle of selecting your target for the night, before the drinking starts. I selected Goldfish. He was really cute. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Nice body. You get the picture.
As you might imagine, the party continues on into the night. Like the perfect wingmen, H and I peel off our selected targets for the evening. This leaves A alone with her crush for hours. The next morning, H and I had to get up early to go to a bridal shower out of town. H comes to get me off the couch, collects A from an upstairs bedroom. We head home, discussing the evening's festivities. It comes out, that despite our best wingmen work, A did not so much as kiss her crush. H and I, on the other hand kissed our targets, because of course, we were in a competition.
And that's when I mentioned that Goldfish had a unique kissing style that I had never in my life encountered. He kisseed purely with closed lips. Pucker your lips and make a goldfish kiss. That was his style, and hence, his nickname was earned. Bless his heart. Cute story, you might say, but boring. But wait! H had made out with his bff and revealed that the bff kissed in the exact same way! What are the odds. Our theory was that they had learned to kiss in this unique manner by 1. either making out with the same girl who was a terrible kisser or 2. kissing each other. Neither way is really acceptable, bless their hearts. But good news, if you ever want excellent wingmen, H & I are here to help you out!
To preface Goldfish, I present to you an essay on Wingmen, written by the bff.
The Much Anticipated... Critically Acclaimed Entry of the Year.....
WINGMEN!
Ah yes, the handy dandy wingman. Let me define this word once and for all. A wingman is a person who plays a vital role in the hook up potential of a friend. The wingman can be a distracter, an advocator, and even a participator. Let us discuss each of these important roles in more detail.
The distracter. This might be the wingman’s most popular purpose. I always work better with examples so lets set up a little scenario to understand this role a little better. Bob & Joe are at a party. Bob is trying to hook up with Sue. Sue is at the party with Jane. Naturally, Joe becomes Bob’s wingman in Bob’s quest to get his freak on with Sue. Joe’s job is to distract Jane away from Sue so Bob can make his move. Joe does a fabulous wingman job & Bob & Sue do the damn thing.
Now let me say at this point, that the wingman role is not exclusive. Some people may fall into a pattern and always end up playing wingman and never actually being on the other side of the equation (which has no name at this point, strangely enough). But it is totally within the realm of possibility that Bob & Joe could switch roles the very next night and on and on.
The advocator. This role is very important because it can directly impact the hook up potential for the evening. Let’s use the same characters in this example to keep thing simple. Bob, Joe, Sue & Jane are at a party. Let’s say this time Joe wants to hook up with Sue (hey, maybe Sue’s a whore, who are we to judge?) So tonight, Bob is playing wingman for Joe. Bob goes and talks to Sue at the party, bar, wherever. Bob proceeds to talk Joe up to Sue. He goes on and on about what a great guy he is and how he’s the bee’s knees and whatever whatever. Joe steps in and leaves Bob to his devices while Joe goes to talk to Sue. Suddenly Sue has all these amazing thoughts in her head about Joe & since she’s a whore a maybe had too much to drink, Joe succeeds in his goal of the evening…..whatever that might have been…
Finally, the participator! This is the wingman’s favorite role to play because it means they can participate in the hooking up festivities as well! Bob, Joe, Jane & Sue are out again (surprise surprise). Bob wants to get with Jane this time, I mean he know she’s desperate for some attention so he’s going to work this to his advantage. Bob needs Joe to play wingman for him and get Sue’s attention away from Jane. It works and the four end up hooking up with each other—everyone is happy and there you have it.
That about the extent of the wingman. Perhaps there is more to it, but in my experience, those are the 3 main functions.
Another friend wrote in today with additional wingmen:
The facilitator
Assuming the position of the facilitator/baitandswticher wingman (or woman) is most useful when your friend is either has little to no game of their own, or when you are approached by someone who your friend has already claimed. For example. Sue and Jane are out at a bar (alcoholics). Jane says to Sue "Damn, look at Joe over there looking fine". Unfortunately, Joe comes over to Sue and buys her a drink. Wrong girl Joe! Sue makes nice for a little while, then starts to look for a way out or an exit strategy. The exit strategy can be anything from "Oh look, there's my boyfriend now" or "excuse me while I use the bathroom", depending on the severity of the situation. Sue finds a reason to introduce Jane to Joe, and then employs her exit strategy. Viola! Joe and Jane are now talking, good work wingwoman Sue. This is similar to a screen in basketball, or a bait and switch tactic. The same could be happen if Jane was just simply to shy to talk to Joe. This is a good wingman strategy, however it becomes faulty with stage 5 clingers, or if the person you are trying to wingman for is fugly.
For those of you wondering, a stage 5 clinger is: anyone who doesnt get the idea that the person they want, want's nothing to do with them" ex "Jane should stop calling my boyfriend before i beat the hell out of that stage 5 clinger"
I would like to add in a wingman title of my own. This is the rescuer/cockblocker. This is the wingman who will come to your aid when you are being hit on by a troll. This wingman will recognize the situation and immediately come to your aid by discussing your boyfriend, your 7am conference call, your herpes outbreak, or anything else that will get rid of said troll. The rescuer is often mistaken for a cockblocker when rescuing inebriated friends from a troll. But, a rescuer is still a rescuer if your wingman knows that you would not be talking to said troll in a proper (read: sober) state of mind. But I guess to the troll, the rescuer will always be the cockblocker. Oh well.
>>>>>>>>>>>
So back to Goldfish. One summer night, the bff and I tagged along with A to her crush's house party (at his parent's huge house inside-the-beltline). We were specifically there to be her wingmen so that she could get some alone time with her crush. We arrive at the party, and immediately notice a shortage of guys. I immediately switch to my tried and true principle of selecting your target for the night, before the drinking starts. I selected Goldfish. He was really cute. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Nice body. You get the picture.
As you might imagine, the party continues on into the night. Like the perfect wingmen, H and I peel off our selected targets for the evening. This leaves A alone with her crush for hours. The next morning, H and I had to get up early to go to a bridal shower out of town. H comes to get me off the couch, collects A from an upstairs bedroom. We head home, discussing the evening's festivities. It comes out, that despite our best wingmen work, A did not so much as kiss her crush. H and I, on the other hand kissed our targets, because of course, we were in a competition.
And that's when I mentioned that Goldfish had a unique kissing style that I had never in my life encountered. He kisseed purely with closed lips. Pucker your lips and make a goldfish kiss. That was his style, and hence, his nickname was earned. Bless his heart. Cute story, you might say, but boring. But wait! H had made out with his bff and revealed that the bff kissed in the exact same way! What are the odds. Our theory was that they had learned to kiss in this unique manner by 1. either making out with the same girl who was a terrible kisser or 2. kissing each other. Neither way is really acceptable, bless their hearts. But good news, if you ever want excellent wingmen, H & I are here to help you out!
Monday, March 21, 2011
Dear UPS,
(The next guy from Summer 2005 was a "frat boy." The bff dared me to kiss three guys in one night. So I believe I made out with some randoms and then I called Frat Boy to come over and watch a movie/ complete the dare. I won the dare.)
Up next was UPS. (I can't remember why he had that nickname, but since he did, I'll just go along with it.) I knew UPS from college. He was home at Lake Norman for the summer, which is, incidentally, about 20 minutes from my hometown. I happened to go home one weekend and UPS asked me out. He drove to pick me up in a convertible. Bonus points. But the top was up. Negative points. We go to his house, and take his boat out to drive to dinner. He remembered that my favorite restaurant at the lake was Midtown Sundries. Mucho points. Dinner and the date were pretty good. It was dark, though, as we took the boat back to his place.
UPS, here is where you screwed up. On the way back from dinner, you claimed to get lost. You pulled into a cove to "get your bearings." Unfortunately for you, you had told me you had lived on the lake for 17 years. You weren't lost at all, and I knew it. You were just thinking a moonlit lake was the perfect makeout spot. Fine. Great. Smooth Move.
But it was getting freezing cold on the water, and I am sure I was wearing something really short and cute. So I was like "um yeah, I see the interstate over there, so I'm pretty sure I know where we're at on the lake, and I can get us home." So you awkwardly and miraculously regained your "bearings" and drove us back. And due to your sketchy behavior, we never went out again. Ahoy!
Up next was UPS. (I can't remember why he had that nickname, but since he did, I'll just go along with it.) I knew UPS from college. He was home at Lake Norman for the summer, which is, incidentally, about 20 minutes from my hometown. I happened to go home one weekend and UPS asked me out. He drove to pick me up in a convertible. Bonus points. But the top was up. Negative points. We go to his house, and take his boat out to drive to dinner. He remembered that my favorite restaurant at the lake was Midtown Sundries. Mucho points. Dinner and the date were pretty good. It was dark, though, as we took the boat back to his place.
UPS, here is where you screwed up. On the way back from dinner, you claimed to get lost. You pulled into a cove to "get your bearings." Unfortunately for you, you had told me you had lived on the lake for 17 years. You weren't lost at all, and I knew it. You were just thinking a moonlit lake was the perfect makeout spot. Fine. Great. Smooth Move.
But it was getting freezing cold on the water, and I am sure I was wearing something really short and cute. So I was like "um yeah, I see the interstate over there, so I'm pretty sure I know where we're at on the lake, and I can get us home." So you awkwardly and miraculously regained your "bearings" and drove us back. And due to your sketchy behavior, we never went out again. Ahoy!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Dear John Who?
The next guy on the Summer 2005 Roster was John Sjeawsirelsdskj (seriously, his last name was something ridiculous so I never bothered trying to learn it). I met him at the pool at the apartment complex. Literally. He got my number, and since he had a hot body, an accent, smart (PhD student), and a hot accent (he's from Turkey) I accepted a date request. Ok, ok I would have accepted for any of those reasons and a free meal.
John, John, John,
You made so many mistakes, its hard to know where to begin. So let's start with our first date. Dinner and a movie. Boring. After our date, my friends wanted to go out. You agreed to tag along, which was weird for a first date, but you were going to DD, so I agreed. We roll to the bar. At some point in the night you disappear. I head to the bathroom, and see you standing there, making out with horrors, a girl from the fat girl sorority. WTF? You see me, and immediately push away from her and follow me to the bathroom apologizing and saying how she cornered you. Yeah, right.
When I leave the bathroom, you were standing there. But so was Stem, like the dating gods were smiling down on me. So, I did what any girl would do. I walked right up to Stem and made out with him. The look on your face was priceless. Don't mess with me.
I would like to say that's the last time we hung out, but it wasn't. I strung you along for a few more weeks, basically using you for the attention. There were lots of awkward moments.
There was the time you wanted to make out, and I wasn't feeling it. And you were like "we've already made out, why don't you want to now?" And that's when I told you "um about that... that was a mistake." That's right. I told you that you were a mistake. To your face. AND YOU STILL KEPT CALLING. I caught a break when you went back to Turkey for a while. But as soon as you returned... you KEPT CALLING.
In fact, you happened to call me when I was on my way home from Florida visiting the Jacksonville Sun (don't worry, there will be a future entry on that). You had only been gone a few weeks, and when I answered my phone you were all chipper and asking me out, now that you had returned stateside. I believe my exact words were "John who?" much to the amusement of the girls in the car. I had apparently forgotten you existed in a matter of weeks. Awkward.
I went to the mailbox one day and saw the MBA student (the grand big's boyfriend) and you both getting your mail. Apparently we all lived in the same small apartment complex. Awesome. I turned me and my dog around. The mail can wait. Awkward.
Then, there was the time I went to a movie with H, after I told you I was busy. And you sat two rows in front of me. Awkward.
And then, to top it all off, I was walking my dog one day when I hear my name. Being yelled out. Across the parking lot. I turn, but I don't see anyone. That's when you got out of a car and come running over to ask me out. Again. That's right, you were "hanging out the passenger side of your best friend's ride, trying to holler at me." No, John Who, I don't want no scrub.
John, John, John,
You made so many mistakes, its hard to know where to begin. So let's start with our first date. Dinner and a movie. Boring. After our date, my friends wanted to go out. You agreed to tag along, which was weird for a first date, but you were going to DD, so I agreed. We roll to the bar. At some point in the night you disappear. I head to the bathroom, and see you standing there, making out with horrors, a girl from the fat girl sorority. WTF? You see me, and immediately push away from her and follow me to the bathroom apologizing and saying how she cornered you. Yeah, right.
When I leave the bathroom, you were standing there. But so was Stem, like the dating gods were smiling down on me. So, I did what any girl would do. I walked right up to Stem and made out with him. The look on your face was priceless. Don't mess with me.
I would like to say that's the last time we hung out, but it wasn't. I strung you along for a few more weeks, basically using you for the attention. There were lots of awkward moments.
There was the time you wanted to make out, and I wasn't feeling it. And you were like "we've already made out, why don't you want to now?" And that's when I told you "um about that... that was a mistake." That's right. I told you that you were a mistake. To your face. AND YOU STILL KEPT CALLING. I caught a break when you went back to Turkey for a while. But as soon as you returned... you KEPT CALLING.
In fact, you happened to call me when I was on my way home from Florida visiting the Jacksonville Sun (don't worry, there will be a future entry on that). You had only been gone a few weeks, and when I answered my phone you were all chipper and asking me out, now that you had returned stateside. I believe my exact words were "John who?" much to the amusement of the girls in the car. I had apparently forgotten you existed in a matter of weeks. Awkward.
I went to the mailbox one day and saw the MBA student (the grand big's boyfriend) and you both getting your mail. Apparently we all lived in the same small apartment complex. Awesome. I turned me and my dog around. The mail can wait. Awkward.
Then, there was the time I went to a movie with H, after I told you I was busy. And you sat two rows in front of me. Awkward.
And then, to top it all off, I was walking my dog one day when I hear my name. Being yelled out. Across the parking lot. I turn, but I don't see anyone. That's when you got out of a car and come running over to ask me out. Again. That's right, you were "hanging out the passenger side of your best friend's ride, trying to holler at me." No, John Who, I don't want no scrub.
O'Henry!
Dear O'Henry,
We met last night at Isaac Hunter's. (fun bar... used to work right beside it, and never went in, but definitely on the short list from now on) This first part is not your fault, but you immediately started talking to me about Koh Tao, Thailand. You couldn't know that I spent a week there with Sam's Club, learning to scuba dive. Most people have never heard of this place, let alone spent time there. So that was pretty neat. What was not pretty neat was you accusing me of having a sugar daddy within 5 minutes of meeting me. You don't know me, and you certainly don't know enough about my finances to make that judgment call.
Your next mistake was mention that you had 4 speeding tickets. 4 speeding tickets? Are you 16? All of them for reckless driving. Nothing is more attractive in a man than excessive insurance premiums. But then, after a few minutes of questioning by my friends, we find out that you do not have 4 speeding tickets. You actually have 7. WTF. So not only are you a terrible driver, you are a liar. Just my favorite type of guy! Um no.
So, let's recap for the hungover:
1. don't insult a girl within a few minutes of meeting her. it's not good to start off in the hole, trying to dig yourself out of it.
2. don't brag about breaking the law. its not really attractive. especially to a lawyer.
3. DON'T EVER LIE!
happy sunday everyone! hopefully next weekend I will have speed dating stories for y'all!
We met last night at Isaac Hunter's. (fun bar... used to work right beside it, and never went in, but definitely on the short list from now on) This first part is not your fault, but you immediately started talking to me about Koh Tao, Thailand. You couldn't know that I spent a week there with Sam's Club, learning to scuba dive. Most people have never heard of this place, let alone spent time there. So that was pretty neat. What was not pretty neat was you accusing me of having a sugar daddy within 5 minutes of meeting me. You don't know me, and you certainly don't know enough about my finances to make that judgment call.
Your next mistake was mention that you had 4 speeding tickets. 4 speeding tickets? Are you 16? All of them for reckless driving. Nothing is more attractive in a man than excessive insurance premiums. But then, after a few minutes of questioning by my friends, we find out that you do not have 4 speeding tickets. You actually have 7. WTF. So not only are you a terrible driver, you are a liar. Just my favorite type of guy! Um no.
So, let's recap for the hungover:
1. don't insult a girl within a few minutes of meeting her. it's not good to start off in the hole, trying to dig yourself out of it.
2. don't brag about breaking the law. its not really attractive. especially to a lawyer.
3. DON'T EVER LIE!
happy sunday everyone! hopefully next weekend I will have speed dating stories for y'all!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Spelling Bee Champ & Stem
The next guy on the roster from Summer 2005's Great Underwear Contest was Stem. Well, that's what I called him anyway. I think his real name started with a J. But I could be just making that up. Generally when I am asked by some random if I remember their name, I usually say "it starts with a J". This is because so many guy's names start with a J (Josh, John, Jonathan, James, Jake, etc) that you are usually right. He got the nickname Stem because that was the town he was from. I kid you not. Stem, NC. It's right next to Shoofly. Don't believe me? Google it. I know I did the night I met this kid.
Anyway, I met Stem while in line for Rum Runners one night. H (the bff) and I had gone to Rum Runners later than usual so had to wait in line. In front of us was Spelling Bee Champ (SBC - his shirt said "spelling bee champ" so the nickname kind of stuck) and behind us was Stem. Since we had to wait in line for hours, we struck up conversations with these boys. And being in competition mode, we ended up making out with Stem and SBC by the end of the night. Stem and I had almost nothing in common, so while we talked on the phone some, there were no sparks and consequently, no good stories (Stem plays into a plot with another guy on the roster). H, on the other hand, went out with SBC a few times. Here is her story, written in 2005, on how that ended:
Don't Let the Door Hit Ya, Where the Good Lord Split Ya.....
So as many of you already know, I'm giving Mike (Duke MBA student aka Spelling Bee Champ) the proverbial boot. He's just not cutting it anymore. We've been on 4 dates total over the past 2 months (well I'm a busy girl, what do you expect). The first two were good. Wait let me take that back. The first half of the second date was good. Let's examine where home fry made some crucial mistakes....
Date one, we went to dinner. Ok very normal first date. Dates #2 & #3 included alcohol and or a bar/club. Sorry buddy, strike one. If you can't take me to dinner then please think of something creative. Trying to give me alochol on half of our dates sends the wrong impression. My nick name is cheap n' easy, not dumb n' stupid ok? (Some of you know what cheap n' easy really means, for those of you who are thinking of it in a bad way, shame on you!).
This little sceneario is what I like to call "drapps" aka drinks & appetizers. Stupid girls will fall for this and think you're actually taking them out. Smart girls will eat beforehand because they know about your trick and won't go out with you anymore.
Furthermore, this guy somehow thinks I am the kind of girl who would sleep with him on a second date. I guess he didn't get the memo. Nor does he pay too much attention to my personality. He ends up looking like an idiot naked as a jay bird while I tell him in true H fashion "We are NOT having sex..." (for those of you who were present, think of the same tone used in "I did NOT bite you!")... Strike two, what the fuck is this guy thinking.
Now, I know I should have broken it off at that point but I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. I mean he is, after all, just a man. (Strike one on my part, I should have known. Lessons learned I suppose).
The final straw. He's the world's worst kisser I am convinced. (Yes W, even worse than the fish style kiss). If you'd like a demonstration please ask next time you see me. Words cannot describe it, it's truly horrendous. Only a live demonstration can do it justice. I promise you're cringe and say "ew" or something to that effect.
You would think that someone who is 28 years old and highly educated would have some damn sense wouldn't you? Looks like life strikes again.
Want to know what the final nail in his coffin was? He tells me he wants to have me over so he can cook dinner for me. If that's not code for "I'm going to try to sleep with you again and I'm stupid enough to think you actually will," I don't know what is.
With that said, home fry still doesn't know he's being cut off yet. I'm hoping by some act of god he'll stop calling me but I know that won't happen. Looks like I have to break it to him gently and tell him "I'm just not that into you..."
Anyway, I met Stem while in line for Rum Runners one night. H (the bff) and I had gone to Rum Runners later than usual so had to wait in line. In front of us was Spelling Bee Champ (SBC - his shirt said "spelling bee champ" so the nickname kind of stuck) and behind us was Stem. Since we had to wait in line for hours, we struck up conversations with these boys. And being in competition mode, we ended up making out with Stem and SBC by the end of the night. Stem and I had almost nothing in common, so while we talked on the phone some, there were no sparks and consequently, no good stories (Stem plays into a plot with another guy on the roster). H, on the other hand, went out with SBC a few times. Here is her story, written in 2005, on how that ended:
Don't Let the Door Hit Ya, Where the Good Lord Split Ya.....
So as many of you already know, I'm giving Mike (Duke MBA student aka Spelling Bee Champ) the proverbial boot. He's just not cutting it anymore. We've been on 4 dates total over the past 2 months (well I'm a busy girl, what do you expect). The first two were good. Wait let me take that back. The first half of the second date was good. Let's examine where home fry made some crucial mistakes....
Date one, we went to dinner. Ok very normal first date. Dates #2 & #3 included alcohol and or a bar/club. Sorry buddy, strike one. If you can't take me to dinner then please think of something creative. Trying to give me alochol on half of our dates sends the wrong impression. My nick name is cheap n' easy, not dumb n' stupid ok? (Some of you know what cheap n' easy really means, for those of you who are thinking of it in a bad way, shame on you!).
This little sceneario is what I like to call "drapps" aka drinks & appetizers. Stupid girls will fall for this and think you're actually taking them out. Smart girls will eat beforehand because they know about your trick and won't go out with you anymore.
Furthermore, this guy somehow thinks I am the kind of girl who would sleep with him on a second date. I guess he didn't get the memo. Nor does he pay too much attention to my personality. He ends up looking like an idiot naked as a jay bird while I tell him in true H fashion "We are NOT having sex..." (for those of you who were present, think of the same tone used in "I did NOT bite you!")... Strike two, what the fuck is this guy thinking.
Now, I know I should have broken it off at that point but I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. I mean he is, after all, just a man. (Strike one on my part, I should have known. Lessons learned I suppose).
The final straw. He's the world's worst kisser I am convinced. (Yes W, even worse than the fish style kiss). If you'd like a demonstration please ask next time you see me. Words cannot describe it, it's truly horrendous. Only a live demonstration can do it justice. I promise you're cringe and say "ew" or something to that effect.
You would think that someone who is 28 years old and highly educated would have some damn sense wouldn't you? Looks like life strikes again.
Want to know what the final nail in his coffin was? He tells me he wants to have me over so he can cook dinner for me. If that's not code for "I'm going to try to sleep with you again and I'm stupid enough to think you actually will," I don't know what is.
With that said, home fry still doesn't know he's being cut off yet. I'm hoping by some act of god he'll stop calling me but I know that won't happen. Looks like I have to break it to him gently and tell him "I'm just not that into you..."
Friday, March 18, 2011
Flashback Friday - The Great Underwear Contest of 2005/MBA
Yes, you read that right. It's not as bad as it sounds, but it is scandalous and will be the basis for a ton of flashback blog entries. Therefore, I will explain the basics of the Great Underwear Contest of 2005.
Summer 2005 was perfect. I had just graduated from college. I had a sweet summer job working from 10 to 2 every weekday as a receptionist. Perfect for staying out late every night, heading to work, and then laying out at the pool all afternoon until time to go out again. I was headed to law school in the fall so I was going to make the most of my remaining freedom before I had to buckle down for school again.
To add to this perfect storm, my bff was newly single. The two of us had never been single together. The stars truly aligned that summer. So, one random day, we headed to Victoria's Secret for their semi-annual sale. And we each bought an obscene number of new panties. Super cute, of course. And in the random way events always evolve in college, we decided to have a contest. So the rules were laid out:
1. Whoever made out with a guy in each pair of panties first would win.
2. All you had to do was kiss. We're not whores, k?
3. If you started a relationship, that would still count. Meaning it did not have to be a new guy for each pair of panties, just a kiss per/panties.
The rules were set, so off we went. The first night of the contest, we went to a dueling piano bar that was our summer hangout (75 cent well drinks on Wednesdays.... um hello, we were pretty tanked). So that night, we met all our friends at said bar. It turns out it was my grand-big's birthday party at this bar. So we partied all night with them, including her boyfriend, MBA*. As we're getting ready to leave, our friend (who happened to pen yesterday's Dear Fuqua post) said we might as well start our makeout contest right then.
So she pushed me into the closest guy. Who happened to be MBA. So I made out with him. The bff made out with his friend. Then we thought our DD had arrived to take us home, but alas they were late, so we went back in, and made out with the boys again. That's right. I made out with my grandbig's boyfriend. Twice. In the bar. In front of my grand-big. On her birthday. Not a high point in my life, but all is fair in love and Underwear Contests...
recap:
brownie points: education level
strikes/dealbreaker: you had a girlfriend and you made out with me in front of her.
*Incidentially, MBA and Sam's Club share the same first name and both have serious fidelity problems. In the future, I will avoid all men with this girly first name. ;)
Summer 2005 was perfect. I had just graduated from college. I had a sweet summer job working from 10 to 2 every weekday as a receptionist. Perfect for staying out late every night, heading to work, and then laying out at the pool all afternoon until time to go out again. I was headed to law school in the fall so I was going to make the most of my remaining freedom before I had to buckle down for school again.
To add to this perfect storm, my bff was newly single. The two of us had never been single together. The stars truly aligned that summer. So, one random day, we headed to Victoria's Secret for their semi-annual sale. And we each bought an obscene number of new panties. Super cute, of course. And in the random way events always evolve in college, we decided to have a contest. So the rules were laid out:
1. Whoever made out with a guy in each pair of panties first would win.
2. All you had to do was kiss. We're not whores, k?
3. If you started a relationship, that would still count. Meaning it did not have to be a new guy for each pair of panties, just a kiss per/panties.
The rules were set, so off we went. The first night of the contest, we went to a dueling piano bar that was our summer hangout (75 cent well drinks on Wednesdays.... um hello, we were pretty tanked). So that night, we met all our friends at said bar. It turns out it was my grand-big's birthday party at this bar. So we partied all night with them, including her boyfriend, MBA*. As we're getting ready to leave, our friend (who happened to pen yesterday's Dear Fuqua post) said we might as well start our makeout contest right then.
So she pushed me into the closest guy. Who happened to be MBA. So I made out with him. The bff made out with his friend. Then we thought our DD had arrived to take us home, but alas they were late, so we went back in, and made out with the boys again. That's right. I made out with my grandbig's boyfriend. Twice. In the bar. In front of my grand-big. On her birthday. Not a high point in my life, but all is fair in love and Underwear Contests...
recap:
brownie points: education level
strikes/dealbreaker: you had a girlfriend and you made out with me in front of her.
*Incidentially, MBA and Sam's Club share the same first name and both have serious fidelity problems. In the future, I will avoid all men with this girly first name. ;)
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Guest Blog - Fuqua
Here is a true story, brought to you by one of my nearest and dearest. I will report, though, that she is now happily married to a great guy (Read: Not Fuqua). I've inserted my own comments/observations/laughter as well. Enjoy!
Dear Fuqua,
Guys like you are the reason people hate Duke. We met at a bar in Durham; I was with my friends, you were with yours. You were pretty good looking, an uncanny resemblance to Luke Wilson. We put two and two together that we lived in the same apartment building, I worked at Duke and you were getting your MBA, and eventually you got my number.
Fast forward SIX weeks. You actually call. (Frankly, I am suprised you even remembered him). Nothing says "I'm lazy, didn't really care to call you, but now have nothing better going on" than waiting 6 weeks. But, being a girl that loves to party and loves food even more, when you asked me over for dinner and a movie I said sure. Afterall, it wasn't like I was going out of my way to get to your place. Even more, since I don't cook, I'm always on the lookout for a good meal. (Amen. A girl's gotta eat!) Boy did I look to the wrong place. I show up at your place, and there's no food to be found. You act as if it wasn't even part of the plan. (the old bait and switch... c'mon dude, if there isn't food involved, we're not interested).
You proceed to tell me about your study abroad in Germany, and even break out a map just to be sure I understand just how unique you and your experiences are. (C'mon now, I mean NOTHING is more exotic than Western Europe.) The rest of the evening, your sentences are a mixed-completion of half English words and half German words because "nothing quite captures some things like the German language." As if it couldn't get any worse, the movie you've rented is from the recent film festival in, you guessed it, Germany. I follow along thanks to the subtitles. I. Hate. Subtitles. (Out of all the foreign genres to watch in film, Germany has produced some of the worst. I know, because I took a German film class in college and we joked during the class that you knew the movie was over when everyone committed suicide. No, seriously. That's how ALL 12 films in that class ended).
The movie ends - not soon enough - and I am ready to get the heck out of there. I tell you that not only do I need to go, but I've got work to do before the morning. The fact that I was more willing to do work than stay with you should have been a clear message to you. But no, you insist on going in for the kiss. Not knowing how to say "no" in German, I looked down and you kissed the top of my head like I was a child. (Aw Olive Garden's Soul Mate!)
Over the next few weeks it would seem you were making up for not calling in the first six weeks as you called EVERY. DAY. The few times I answered I would make up the lamest excuses known to man, but it just didn't seem to register with you. Six seems to be your magic number, because that's how many weeks of "no" it took before you stopped calling.
To recap for potential last night's dates out there:
1. if you are lucky to get our number, you should use it. preferably the next day. act fast! in this particular instance, she had already started dating her future husband. not that it would have ever worked out for y'all anyway.
2. do not EVER trick us by dangling food in front of us and failing to deliver. hungry girls = angry girls.
3. if you are at a loss for things to talk about, talk about us. ask us about us. don't talk about yourself. if we cared to know, we'd ask.
4. if i am not excited to see you, i will come up with lame excuses. they are just that, excuses. excuses so I don't have to see you. if either of those excuses are "work" and/or "household chores", it means I would rather light myself on fire than hang out with you again.
Dear Fuqua,
Guys like you are the reason people hate Duke. We met at a bar in Durham; I was with my friends, you were with yours. You were pretty good looking, an uncanny resemblance to Luke Wilson. We put two and two together that we lived in the same apartment building, I worked at Duke and you were getting your MBA, and eventually you got my number.
Fast forward SIX weeks. You actually call. (Frankly, I am suprised you even remembered him). Nothing says "I'm lazy, didn't really care to call you, but now have nothing better going on" than waiting 6 weeks. But, being a girl that loves to party and loves food even more, when you asked me over for dinner and a movie I said sure. Afterall, it wasn't like I was going out of my way to get to your place. Even more, since I don't cook, I'm always on the lookout for a good meal. (Amen. A girl's gotta eat!) Boy did I look to the wrong place. I show up at your place, and there's no food to be found. You act as if it wasn't even part of the plan. (the old bait and switch... c'mon dude, if there isn't food involved, we're not interested).
You proceed to tell me about your study abroad in Germany, and even break out a map just to be sure I understand just how unique you and your experiences are. (C'mon now, I mean NOTHING is more exotic than Western Europe.) The rest of the evening, your sentences are a mixed-completion of half English words and half German words because "nothing quite captures some things like the German language." As if it couldn't get any worse, the movie you've rented is from the recent film festival in, you guessed it, Germany. I follow along thanks to the subtitles. I. Hate. Subtitles. (Out of all the foreign genres to watch in film, Germany has produced some of the worst. I know, because I took a German film class in college and we joked during the class that you knew the movie was over when everyone committed suicide. No, seriously. That's how ALL 12 films in that class ended).
The movie ends - not soon enough - and I am ready to get the heck out of there. I tell you that not only do I need to go, but I've got work to do before the morning. The fact that I was more willing to do work than stay with you should have been a clear message to you. But no, you insist on going in for the kiss. Not knowing how to say "no" in German, I looked down and you kissed the top of my head like I was a child. (Aw Olive Garden's Soul Mate!)
Over the next few weeks it would seem you were making up for not calling in the first six weeks as you called EVERY. DAY. The few times I answered I would make up the lamest excuses known to man, but it just didn't seem to register with you. Six seems to be your magic number, because that's how many weeks of "no" it took before you stopped calling.
To recap for potential last night's dates out there:
1. if you are lucky to get our number, you should use it. preferably the next day. act fast! in this particular instance, she had already started dating her future husband. not that it would have ever worked out for y'all anyway.
2. do not EVER trick us by dangling food in front of us and failing to deliver. hungry girls = angry girls.
3. if you are at a loss for things to talk about, talk about us. ask us about us. don't talk about yourself. if we cared to know, we'd ask.
4. if i am not excited to see you, i will come up with lame excuses. they are just that, excuses. excuses so I don't have to see you. if either of those excuses are "work" and/or "household chores", it means I would rather light myself on fire than hang out with you again.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
WayBack Wednesday: The Night of the Ninja Turtle
Dear Ninja Turtle,
I don't even know where to begin. We had been "hanging out" for a few weeks, but were not in any way, shape, or form in a relationship. Indeed, I cannot imagine any relationship where what you did would be deemed acceptable behavior. It was our senior year in college (2004). It was not halloween. That is an important detail here.
I had gone to a friend's party that night. I was dropped off along with my best friend, H, in our apartment complex. She walked over to her apartment, while I headed up the 3 flights of stairs to my apartment. As I climb the stairs, I notice these weird scraps of fabric. I assumed my neighbors must be having some sort of party. As I round the last flight of stairs, I see an orange mask laying on the stairs. Like I said, it wasn't halloween. So that was a little perplexing.
As I reach the top of my stairs, my neighbor, who was incidentally having a party, comes out to tell me that I have an interesting visitor at my door. I round the corner, and sure enough, there is a passed out ninja turtle at my door. W.T.F.?!?
I proceeded to kick/tapp you with my foot, until you moaned and rolled over. And that's when i recognized you as, well, you. You were passed out. Completely. So, I did what any other girl would do. I called H and told her she HAD to come back over to see what was on my door step. H was getting ready for bed, it was in the wee hours of the morning, and I had to convince her that it would be worth it.
H comes over, and you are still passed out. And you refused to stand up and come inside my apartment, or call a friend for a ride home. So we decided to have fun with you. My dog ate pieces of bread off your face and gave you lots of kisses. We painted your fingernails in hot pink. I also believe eye shadow was involved. You never woke up. We eventually got bored, H went home, and I took my dog into my bedroom, locked the door, and left you on my living room floor.
The next day I had to be on campus really early, I think for bid day, so I got up and got dressed and walked into my living room to find you awake, still dressed in your ninja turtle outfit. When it was time for me to go, I agreed to give you a ride home. Luckily, when we arrived at your apartment, it was broad daylight and many people were milling about to witness you do the walk of shame in your Ninja Turtle get-up. I made sure to park extra far away from your front door so that everyone could witness the full effect of the Ninja Turtle at 9am on a Saturday, not during Halloween.
Update:
- When I moved out of the apartment, my dad was moving my couch and he found under the seat cushion my sister's bra, and a pair of your nunchucks (sp?). The look on my dad's face was priceless. Hilarious!
- If you live in the DC area, I believe that Ninja Turtle is providing you with your local weather... I bet you never look at your weatherman the same way again...
Recap:
brownie points: weathermen are strangely attractive?
strikes: coming over uninvited; in costume; passing out
dealbreakers: Ninja turtle costume
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Drapps
Dear Joe Random,
I met you at a bar. I quizzed you on Bible verses and churches. Did you honestly think I was going to go home with you at the end of the night. Let's be for serious. That's not what Jesus would do.
I realize you are "not from around here." So I will explain to you how your fatal error came next. You sent me a text that said "want to go get drinks or something."
1. You can go get drinks with your buddies. You take girls you would like to date out for dinner. Drapps (drinks + appetizers) does not a date make. Sorry.
2. Did you seriously just ask me out via text message. Wow, what an effort. I am so flattered.
Here in the south, or anywhere else where girls demand to be treated with respect, you have committed two unpardonable sins. You failed to ask me to dinner, or lunch, or even coffee. Instead you opted for the "lets go get drinks and possibly drunk and make mistakes route." Which means you don't really respect me or have my best interests at heart. (And also, a girl's gotta eat!) To make matters worse, you asked me to drinks in the most wussy way imaginable. So, the next time you meet a nice girl, here's what you do:
1. Don't creep her out within an hour of meeting by suggesting she come home with you "just to cuddle."
2. If you do get her number, put on your big boy pants and call her. Hold a real conversation with her.
3. During said phone call, ask her out to dinner.
4. If any of the above proves too hard for you, then you obviously don't like her enough, so stop wasting her precious time.
Recap:
brownie points : goes to church
strikes: tried to take me home to "cuddle," asked me out via text message
dealbreakers: asked me to get "drinks" via text
(I met Joe Random at a bar. Joe is his first name, no idea of what his last name is so I put it in my phone as Random.)
I met you at a bar. I quizzed you on Bible verses and churches. Did you honestly think I was going to go home with you at the end of the night. Let's be for serious. That's not what Jesus would do.
I realize you are "not from around here." So I will explain to you how your fatal error came next. You sent me a text that said "want to go get drinks or something."
1. You can go get drinks with your buddies. You take girls you would like to date out for dinner. Drapps (drinks + appetizers) does not a date make. Sorry.
2. Did you seriously just ask me out via text message. Wow, what an effort. I am so flattered.
Here in the south, or anywhere else where girls demand to be treated with respect, you have committed two unpardonable sins. You failed to ask me to dinner, or lunch, or even coffee. Instead you opted for the "lets go get drinks and possibly drunk and make mistakes route." Which means you don't really respect me or have my best interests at heart. (And also, a girl's gotta eat!) To make matters worse, you asked me to drinks in the most wussy way imaginable. So, the next time you meet a nice girl, here's what you do:
1. Don't creep her out within an hour of meeting by suggesting she come home with you "just to cuddle."
2. If you do get her number, put on your big boy pants and call her. Hold a real conversation with her.
3. During said phone call, ask her out to dinner.
4. If any of the above proves too hard for you, then you obviously don't like her enough, so stop wasting her precious time.
Recap:
brownie points : goes to church
strikes: tried to take me home to "cuddle," asked me out via text message
dealbreakers: asked me to get "drinks" via text
(I met Joe Random at a bar. Joe is his first name, no idea of what his last name is so I put it in my phone as Random.)
Monday, March 14, 2011
Playing Possum
Dear Guy-I-Don't-Want-To-Date,
When I changed my phone number, and you weren't informed, it was because I was not interested in you. So when you see me at a bar, flirting with other guys, and you try to call me and the number has been disconnected, it is probably not a smart idea on your part to try and follow up with our mutual friend.
As it happened, I was waiting on pizza with A and her boyfriend, post-bar. I was sitting in her living room when you called her asking about me. When you asked to speak to me, A said "W, he wants to talk to you." At which point, I rolled down onto the floor. Face down, and refused to move or speak. A told you that I had fallen asleep and you guys hung up. At which point, I sat straight up and asked when the pizza was arriving. I had just resorted to "playing possum" to avoid talking to you. That is code for "not-interested."
Ladies, this is a great trick. I highly recommend it to you. It worked like a charm. You're welcome.
Recap:
brownie points: decent dresser
strikes & dealbreakers: brought up your threesome within 2 minutes of meeting me
When I changed my phone number, and you weren't informed, it was because I was not interested in you. So when you see me at a bar, flirting with other guys, and you try to call me and the number has been disconnected, it is probably not a smart idea on your part to try and follow up with our mutual friend.
As it happened, I was waiting on pizza with A and her boyfriend, post-bar. I was sitting in her living room when you called her asking about me. When you asked to speak to me, A said "W, he wants to talk to you." At which point, I rolled down onto the floor. Face down, and refused to move or speak. A told you that I had fallen asleep and you guys hung up. At which point, I sat straight up and asked when the pizza was arriving. I had just resorted to "playing possum" to avoid talking to you. That is code for "not-interested."
Ladies, this is a great trick. I highly recommend it to you. It worked like a charm. You're welcome.
Recap:
brownie points: decent dresser
strikes & dealbreakers: brought up your threesome within 2 minutes of meeting me
Unlimited Salad & Breadsticks... Limited Social Skills
Dear Last Night's Date,
I appreciated you driving 3 hours one way to take me on a date. I also appreciated you bringing me cupcakes from my favorite bakery back home. That, sadly, is where my appreciation of you ended.
When I opened the door to find you standing there in your American Eagle polo shirt, I was disappointed. You are in your 30s, time to let American Eagle go to its target demographic, ie-people still in school. I was further disappointed to note that the shirt was untucked and unironed. Then I noticed your pants. Your SHINY dress pants, that didn't even match your shirt. I asked for a night in shinning armor and all I got was you, in your shiny pants. And then your white athletic socks with your brown tennis shoes really completed the ensemble. Seriously, I think the guys on Jersey Shore dress better. And I knew by the look of your outfit, that we were clearly not going anywhere nice for dinner.
You came in, and immediately stood way too close to me. This is a first date, I do not need you in my personal bubble until you are invited. Are we clear?
And then, you committed FIRST DATE UNPARDONABLE SIN: you said "what do you want to do?". Listen, I don't want to come across as rude here, but you asked me out. I did my part. I accepted and got ready and I look awesome and will be your arm candy tonight. You, who didn't even iron your shirt, have just showed up and haven't even had the decency to come up with a gameplan. Dates, especially first dates, are easy. Food should be involved. Then, if that goes well, a post-date activity, if its not too late. You can do a movie, bowling, fun park, minature golf, etc. But nope, you haven't even picked out a restaurant, let alone make a reservation. So I forced you to make a decision and you picked a restaurant. A popular restaurant, which would be packed.
And then you asked me to get out my laptop to look up said restaurant to get the address for it. Sigh. If you put this little effort into date one, I can only assume date 4 is a drive-through. So we drive to the restaurant, and of course, you refuse to do valet. Which is awesome, since parking is scarce. And if we were in college and I knew you were broke, it'd be no big deal. You, however, make six figures. You can afford $4 for valet. And then, in trying to pull into the pay parking lot across the street, you say "I have no cash, do you have any?". WTF?!?! You asked me out, and didn't bring any cash? I didn't have much cash, but having been stranded on a date before, I was not about to part with precious cash that might have to pay for a cab home. So you drove to a parking deck a few blocks away. Good thing I was wearing heels.
We hiked back up to the restaurant. Suprise suprise, without a reservation the wait was 2 hours. I didn't want to stand in heels for 2 hours, so I suggested we go somewhere else. Unfortunately, your attire ensured that we wouldn't be getting into any of the nicer restaurants in town, and at 7pm on a Saturday, even the not-so-nices were on a long wait. So i suggested we head to Durham, where there are lots of restaurants, and where dress codes are not as strict. So you agreed and off we headed.
On the way, you decided, hey lets go to Cary instead. I was like which restaurant in Cary. You replied "Olive Garden." Now, I love a good breadstick as much as the next girl, but the Olive Garden in Cary is sub-par. The food isn't nearly as good as other locations, and there is always a long wait. I voiced this opinion. You said "let's go there anyway." At that point, I started checking emails on my phone and checking out of this date.
At OG, we went to the bar for a much needed drink. I ordered a Bellini. So did you. I asked you if you realized that it was a frozen mixed drink. You said "I want it anyway." So I stared in amazement as you ordered a girlie drink at the bar, while on a date, in the South. Thankfully we got a table right away.
A few bites into dinner you asked me, "Would you have done anything different if you had found out Sam's Club* was cheating on you after you were married?" WTF. We are on date one. At dinner. And you not only just brought up my ex, but also his cheating. You bastard. Not to be deterred by my evil glare at that question, you asked, "Well is there anything that Sam's Club could do to get back with you?" Great, now you have brought it up twice. I appreciate that. I was really hoping to get through a nice meal without having to defend myself to you or bring up a painful past.
After this conversation and some other small talk which proved that we had nothing in common and everything that I thought we had in common based on our previous conversations, was exaggerated greatly. So, I was thankful when after I had only taken a few bites out of my meal, you asked for the check and had my food boxed up. At least the server gave me extra breadsticks to take home. I was hopeful that you had figured out that this date was going nowhere fast and wanted to take me home and put us both out of our misery. Little did I know, that was not your intention. You started petting my arm and leg like a dog during the 20 minute drive home. I wanted to fling myself out of the car.
When we pull into my parking lot, you asked me if my apartment complex towed. They don't, but I was dumbfounded as to why that would be an issue, since you clearly weren't invited to stay. So I lied and said, yes, they were really aggressive about towing, hoping once again, that you would get the point. Nope. As I got out of the car, so did you. I figured you were just going to walk me to the door, and then I could be done with this night.
But as I opened the door, you walked right in and sat down on the couch and made yourself right at home. I said, "well.... I need to go walk my dog now" hoping you'd follow me back out. You didn't. So I walked the dog, for a really long time, hoping you'd just leave. You didn't. So I come back inside and sit down on the couch opposite of you and begin to discuss how early I had to get up. You, Mr. Socially Aware, took that as your cue to get up and come and plop yourself down on my couch, practically on top of me. And to start petting me again. I am not your dog. Back off.
I got up, and at this point, honest-to-god resorted to doing household chores, hoping you'd leave. I went into the kitchen and started unloading the dishwasher. You FOLLOWED me. And just stood there. Right beside me. I knew at this point you were hoping for a kiss. You idiot. This started a game of me walking away, and you following. Until you trapped me. And tried to go in for a kiss. I ducked. You got the side of my hair. Gross. And thankfully, you finally got the picture and went home. But not without a few more "pets." Ick.
Recap:
brownie points : well educated; nice job; paid attention and brought me cupcakes from my favorite bakery back home
strikes: no reservations; refusal to spring for valet; excessive petting
dealbreakers : taking me to the one restaurant I said I didn't want to go to.
*Sam's club is my ex-boyfriend. He is named Sam's Club because he bought me and his girlfriend in China the exact same jewelry for our birthday and Christmas presents, from Sam's Club, the bulk-buying center.
I appreciated you driving 3 hours one way to take me on a date. I also appreciated you bringing me cupcakes from my favorite bakery back home. That, sadly, is where my appreciation of you ended.
When I opened the door to find you standing there in your American Eagle polo shirt, I was disappointed. You are in your 30s, time to let American Eagle go to its target demographic, ie-people still in school. I was further disappointed to note that the shirt was untucked and unironed. Then I noticed your pants. Your SHINY dress pants, that didn't even match your shirt. I asked for a night in shinning armor and all I got was you, in your shiny pants. And then your white athletic socks with your brown tennis shoes really completed the ensemble. Seriously, I think the guys on Jersey Shore dress better. And I knew by the look of your outfit, that we were clearly not going anywhere nice for dinner.
You came in, and immediately stood way too close to me. This is a first date, I do not need you in my personal bubble until you are invited. Are we clear?
And then, you committed FIRST DATE UNPARDONABLE SIN: you said "what do you want to do?". Listen, I don't want to come across as rude here, but you asked me out. I did my part. I accepted and got ready and I look awesome and will be your arm candy tonight. You, who didn't even iron your shirt, have just showed up and haven't even had the decency to come up with a gameplan. Dates, especially first dates, are easy. Food should be involved. Then, if that goes well, a post-date activity, if its not too late. You can do a movie, bowling, fun park, minature golf, etc. But nope, you haven't even picked out a restaurant, let alone make a reservation. So I forced you to make a decision and you picked a restaurant. A popular restaurant, which would be packed.
And then you asked me to get out my laptop to look up said restaurant to get the address for it. Sigh. If you put this little effort into date one, I can only assume date 4 is a drive-through. So we drive to the restaurant, and of course, you refuse to do valet. Which is awesome, since parking is scarce. And if we were in college and I knew you were broke, it'd be no big deal. You, however, make six figures. You can afford $4 for valet. And then, in trying to pull into the pay parking lot across the street, you say "I have no cash, do you have any?". WTF?!?! You asked me out, and didn't bring any cash? I didn't have much cash, but having been stranded on a date before, I was not about to part with precious cash that might have to pay for a cab home. So you drove to a parking deck a few blocks away. Good thing I was wearing heels.
We hiked back up to the restaurant. Suprise suprise, without a reservation the wait was 2 hours. I didn't want to stand in heels for 2 hours, so I suggested we go somewhere else. Unfortunately, your attire ensured that we wouldn't be getting into any of the nicer restaurants in town, and at 7pm on a Saturday, even the not-so-nices were on a long wait. So i suggested we head to Durham, where there are lots of restaurants, and where dress codes are not as strict. So you agreed and off we headed.
On the way, you decided, hey lets go to Cary instead. I was like which restaurant in Cary. You replied "Olive Garden." Now, I love a good breadstick as much as the next girl, but the Olive Garden in Cary is sub-par. The food isn't nearly as good as other locations, and there is always a long wait. I voiced this opinion. You said "let's go there anyway." At that point, I started checking emails on my phone and checking out of this date.
At OG, we went to the bar for a much needed drink. I ordered a Bellini. So did you. I asked you if you realized that it was a frozen mixed drink. You said "I want it anyway." So I stared in amazement as you ordered a girlie drink at the bar, while on a date, in the South. Thankfully we got a table right away.
A few bites into dinner you asked me, "Would you have done anything different if you had found out Sam's Club* was cheating on you after you were married?" WTF. We are on date one. At dinner. And you not only just brought up my ex, but also his cheating. You bastard. Not to be deterred by my evil glare at that question, you asked, "Well is there anything that Sam's Club could do to get back with you?" Great, now you have brought it up twice. I appreciate that. I was really hoping to get through a nice meal without having to defend myself to you or bring up a painful past.
After this conversation and some other small talk which proved that we had nothing in common and everything that I thought we had in common based on our previous conversations, was exaggerated greatly. So, I was thankful when after I had only taken a few bites out of my meal, you asked for the check and had my food boxed up. At least the server gave me extra breadsticks to take home. I was hopeful that you had figured out that this date was going nowhere fast and wanted to take me home and put us both out of our misery. Little did I know, that was not your intention. You started petting my arm and leg like a dog during the 20 minute drive home. I wanted to fling myself out of the car.
When we pull into my parking lot, you asked me if my apartment complex towed. They don't, but I was dumbfounded as to why that would be an issue, since you clearly weren't invited to stay. So I lied and said, yes, they were really aggressive about towing, hoping once again, that you would get the point. Nope. As I got out of the car, so did you. I figured you were just going to walk me to the door, and then I could be done with this night.
But as I opened the door, you walked right in and sat down on the couch and made yourself right at home. I said, "well.... I need to go walk my dog now" hoping you'd follow me back out. You didn't. So I walked the dog, for a really long time, hoping you'd just leave. You didn't. So I come back inside and sit down on the couch opposite of you and begin to discuss how early I had to get up. You, Mr. Socially Aware, took that as your cue to get up and come and plop yourself down on my couch, practically on top of me. And to start petting me again. I am not your dog. Back off.
I got up, and at this point, honest-to-god resorted to doing household chores, hoping you'd leave. I went into the kitchen and started unloading the dishwasher. You FOLLOWED me. And just stood there. Right beside me. I knew at this point you were hoping for a kiss. You idiot. This started a game of me walking away, and you following. Until you trapped me. And tried to go in for a kiss. I ducked. You got the side of my hair. Gross. And thankfully, you finally got the picture and went home. But not without a few more "pets." Ick.
Recap:
brownie points : well educated; nice job; paid attention and brought me cupcakes from my favorite bakery back home
strikes: no reservations; refusal to spring for valet; excessive petting
dealbreakers : taking me to the one restaurant I said I didn't want to go to.
*Sam's club is my ex-boyfriend. He is named Sam's Club because he bought me and his girlfriend in China the exact same jewelry for our birthday and Christmas presents, from Sam's Club, the bulk-buying center.
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