We had a great first date. You travel the world and we've been to a lot of the same places. You were a little shy, but very handsome. We had great conversation for the first date and actually closed the place down.
The next night, however, you asked me out again. For that night. Um no, not going to happen. Not in a million years. Strike one.
Strike two occurred when we had dinner and then went back to your house to watch a movie. You rented one movie, and I had zero say-so in it. It was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my entire life. So awkward. Making things worse, you showed me around your house. While clean and large, it was devoid of furniture. You are in your 40s, you should own some furniture by now. What your house was full of, however, was cats. As in two. On your bed. I have a giant dog. So you having cats means that I will never spend the night with you ever.
(Seriously guys with cats and small yippy dogs... these will cockblock you more than anything else I can think of, except for possibly living with your mother)
Strike three was cancelling on a date and then not trying to reschedule for a week. I understand that you may be busy, but you should at least keep me interested.
So, hot pilot, all the best. If you get rid of the cats, maybe we can talk.
xoxo,
W
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Dear Knoxville,
If you have read this blog at all, you know I pick up strays when I am out of town. And instead of leaving them there like any smart female would do, I accept their invitations to come visit me. And so it was, after spending mere hours with Knoxville in Miami, I allowed him to come spend 4 days with me three weeks later.
Of course, because my life is nothing short of one gigantic shitshow... Vegas guy (Nerd Conference) was calling me a bunch during this period as well. He was headed back to vegas for another convention. He really really really wanted me to come out there and spend the week with him. To the tune of had a ticket reserved on American. While, I am normally all up for free vacations, Knoxville happened to have already booked a ticket to come visit me that weekend, so I had to politely decline.
We had been talking a bunch on the phone, and he is a really nice and sweet guy, but to go from 4 hours with someone to 4 days, is a bit much. Marathon dating: it's not for the faint of heart.
I picked him up from the airport Friday morning and he didn't leave until Monday morning. I literally had DAYS to kill. I even took him on a road trip to my favorite hometown restaurant so I could kill 5 hours on Saturday. I'm a girl, I don't plan dates. But when these out of towners come in, they don't know what to do either.
We had fun, but 4 days is a lot of time to spend with someone. He's a really great guy, but he lives 900 miles away. He is not licensed to practice here, nor am I licensed to practice in Florida or Tennessee... but I will be seeing him again when I head back to Miami for my birthday. Assuming of course, that I don't get my very own dateline special before then.
W
Of course, because my life is nothing short of one gigantic shitshow... Vegas guy (Nerd Conference) was calling me a bunch during this period as well. He was headed back to vegas for another convention. He really really really wanted me to come out there and spend the week with him. To the tune of had a ticket reserved on American. While, I am normally all up for free vacations, Knoxville happened to have already booked a ticket to come visit me that weekend, so I had to politely decline.
We had been talking a bunch on the phone, and he is a really nice and sweet guy, but to go from 4 hours with someone to 4 days, is a bit much. Marathon dating: it's not for the faint of heart.
I picked him up from the airport Friday morning and he didn't leave until Monday morning. I literally had DAYS to kill. I even took him on a road trip to my favorite hometown restaurant so I could kill 5 hours on Saturday. I'm a girl, I don't plan dates. But when these out of towners come in, they don't know what to do either.
We had fun, but 4 days is a lot of time to spend with someone. He's a really great guy, but he lives 900 miles away. He is not licensed to practice here, nor am I licensed to practice in Florida or Tennessee... but I will be seeing him again when I head back to Miami for my birthday. Assuming of course, that I don't get my very own dateline special before then.
W
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Dear Herpes Free Pizza
Saturday night in Miami, A was throwing a hissy fit to go to Southbeach. I had never been, so we made the trek. A was beyond wasted, but alas, K and I were pretty sober, having spent the last few hours chitchatting with a friend of K's that we hadn't seen in eons, while A chugged booze.
Sign numero uno we should have gone home: When the cab rolls up, A hops in the front with the cab driver and proceeds to hit on him. Gave him her real name, number, the works. We should have known then...
Sign numero dos: A insists we go to the same club she loved from spring break from five or six years ago. Despite our protests that we are too old for college bars and that spring break does not, in fact, occur during the month of January, we humored her at this point. So we entered the Clevelander. Holy shit. May be the sketchiest place I have ever set foot in.
Sign numero tres: Upon entering, A walks right up to a group of three guys and proclaims to them that we were all newly single. Desperate much? Not to mention... nobody was newly single. She'd had her breakup that summer. K's divorce was final before that, and I was pushing on a year of being single and had already dated several guys during that time. K was mortified. I was irritated to even be in that shit hole, let alone having someone's desperate behavior projected onto me.
Sign numero quatro (aren't you all impressed by my spanish skillz?): The first words out of the three guys A had approached was : We're all happily married. And they all held up their rings as proof. A didn't take the hint, despite them trying to ditch her and K and I trying to get her to talk to ANYONE else in the bar.
Cinco : A sets her heart's desire on The Married, one of the trio. She tells him she wants to make out with him. He tells her "I don't want to make out with you." Right to her face. I'm mortified for her at this point. K abandons all hope at this point and goes to make friends with Drug Dealer. I'm still attempting to play wingman. So I'm talking with Another Married. Another Married tells me that The Married was recently told his wife wanted a divorce via text message. And he also commented about A, saying "Just how desperate is she." It's pretty hard to be a wingman to that. I just said, well, so I moved into a townhome with some girls and the night I move in, I walk smack into her ex boyfriend, who is the current boyfriend of one of my roommates. Small world, and she's taking it terribly.
Six (I can count to five... wahoo): The Married wanders off to talk on the phone, probably with his wife. A follows him and completes a face raping that Daniel from the bar on Thursday would have been proud of.
Seven: Assuming that A was DTF, the Married suddenly decides to leave with A and go back to his hotel room. Another Married was begging for me to take A home or at least come try to chaperone her. A took Another Marrieds whispers to me as a sign of flirting and suggested I go be a homewrecker like her. Um no, thanks A, that's all you. We had literally only been in South Beach for thirty minutes at this point. K and I decided to stay. But, being the awesome friend I am, I had Another Married text me the Married's real name and number so that we could locate A the next day.
Eight: A leaves with all the married me and goes back to their hotel. Not to be seen until 1pm the next day when she wanders home. Apparently, the Married had not asked for her name or number, but after A found out that I had his name and number in my phone, she TOOK MY PHONE AND STOLE THEM and commenced texting. I texted Another Married back to apologize and say that she had taken it, that I did not give them to her. He replied that they had figured that out that that they had been laughing about it all morning. Life lesson you should have learned here A: if he wanted your number, he would have asked for it.
Nine: K, meanwhile, has abandoned A to talk to Drug Dealer, who is this ultra redneck from Ohio. IN CARGO SHORTS. Oh Em Gee. And he annoyed the shit out of me. Having just had to witness the Married fiasco, I didn't have the stomach to wingman for K. And I was completely sober by now, so I prance up to the bar to order myself a drink and get away from Drug Dealer.
Ten: I happen to sit down at the bar next to Henry the Banker. He's roughly my dad's age. He is with two other creepers. Henry though, offers to buy me a drink. I ask for my signature vodka and pineapple juice. He asks me for my brand of vodka. I name it, and Henry makes a snide remark about me picking an expensive brand. Look buddy, I was going to by my own drink, but you offered and then asked my preference. If you don't want to buy me a drink, don't.
Eleven: Henry proceeds to tell me he is a banker from Kansas City and he is out there for work. And one of the creepers he was with is their client. Who just had sex in a strip club. Yes, he said that. Henry asked this guy to say one nice thing about Henry. The creep said "ummm he's a banker." You cannot make this up. But Henry, who is not one who frequents a gym, nor does he have much hair remaining, thought he actually had a chance with me. He starts trying to tell me he can get me a job at a major competitor's firm out of Kansas City, and how he has done that for other women in the past. Real Creep, this one.
Twelve, the bar is closing down. Henry's friends head back to their hotel, which is where the Jersey Shore stayed. Apparently they were really proud to be staying in that herpes haven. Drug Dealer's friends have likewise headed home, so it is me, K, Drug Dealer, and Henry. Drug Dealer suggests we go back to his room and smoke weed. I was like um, no. So we finally agreed to go with Henry back to his hotel for a drink.
Thirteen: We start walking in that direction. Henry is trying to ditch Drug Dealer and K, and Drug Dealer is trying to do the same. K and I, however, each are under the false impression that the other wants to actually spend time with her respective male. Henry and Drug Dealer are being openly hostile to each other and trading insults, which were actually hilarious, but would take too long to type. At some point, it becomes clear, though, that there is no bar in this hotel. Henry was trying to lure us into his hotel room.
Fourteen: Hell no. K and I huddle and determine we don't want to spend another minute with either of these fools. So we decide to just hop in a cab home. Henry and Drug Dealer, though, were eternal optimists. And they were huddling up and discussing how to "Close the deal" and patting each other's butts. It was the most pathetic display since A's behavior earlier that night.
So, we say goodbye to the boys at about 5am. As we get into the cab, people are starting to stretch for the marathon happening that day. They waved at us. Sigh. We're not five minutes down the road when I get a text from Henry: Come up to my room. We're getting a pizza. Herpes free, I promise.
That was his pickup line. I declined. And for the rest of his stay, he tried to get us to come back out with him. Didn't happen. As much as I love pizza, if you have to tell me that it is herpes free, I am not interest.
hahhaa.
-W
Sign numero uno we should have gone home: When the cab rolls up, A hops in the front with the cab driver and proceeds to hit on him. Gave him her real name, number, the works. We should have known then...
Sign numero dos: A insists we go to the same club she loved from spring break from five or six years ago. Despite our protests that we are too old for college bars and that spring break does not, in fact, occur during the month of January, we humored her at this point. So we entered the Clevelander. Holy shit. May be the sketchiest place I have ever set foot in.
Sign numero tres: Upon entering, A walks right up to a group of three guys and proclaims to them that we were all newly single. Desperate much? Not to mention... nobody was newly single. She'd had her breakup that summer. K's divorce was final before that, and I was pushing on a year of being single and had already dated several guys during that time. K was mortified. I was irritated to even be in that shit hole, let alone having someone's desperate behavior projected onto me.
Sign numero quatro (aren't you all impressed by my spanish skillz?): The first words out of the three guys A had approached was : We're all happily married. And they all held up their rings as proof. A didn't take the hint, despite them trying to ditch her and K and I trying to get her to talk to ANYONE else in the bar.
Cinco : A sets her heart's desire on The Married, one of the trio. She tells him she wants to make out with him. He tells her "I don't want to make out with you." Right to her face. I'm mortified for her at this point. K abandons all hope at this point and goes to make friends with Drug Dealer. I'm still attempting to play wingman. So I'm talking with Another Married. Another Married tells me that The Married was recently told his wife wanted a divorce via text message. And he also commented about A, saying "Just how desperate is she." It's pretty hard to be a wingman to that. I just said, well, so I moved into a townhome with some girls and the night I move in, I walk smack into her ex boyfriend, who is the current boyfriend of one of my roommates. Small world, and she's taking it terribly.
Six (I can count to five... wahoo): The Married wanders off to talk on the phone, probably with his wife. A follows him and completes a face raping that Daniel from the bar on Thursday would have been proud of.
Seven: Assuming that A was DTF, the Married suddenly decides to leave with A and go back to his hotel room. Another Married was begging for me to take A home or at least come try to chaperone her. A took Another Marrieds whispers to me as a sign of flirting and suggested I go be a homewrecker like her. Um no, thanks A, that's all you. We had literally only been in South Beach for thirty minutes at this point. K and I decided to stay. But, being the awesome friend I am, I had Another Married text me the Married's real name and number so that we could locate A the next day.
Eight: A leaves with all the married me and goes back to their hotel. Not to be seen until 1pm the next day when she wanders home. Apparently, the Married had not asked for her name or number, but after A found out that I had his name and number in my phone, she TOOK MY PHONE AND STOLE THEM and commenced texting. I texted Another Married back to apologize and say that she had taken it, that I did not give them to her. He replied that they had figured that out that that they had been laughing about it all morning. Life lesson you should have learned here A: if he wanted your number, he would have asked for it.
Nine: K, meanwhile, has abandoned A to talk to Drug Dealer, who is this ultra redneck from Ohio. IN CARGO SHORTS. Oh Em Gee. And he annoyed the shit out of me. Having just had to witness the Married fiasco, I didn't have the stomach to wingman for K. And I was completely sober by now, so I prance up to the bar to order myself a drink and get away from Drug Dealer.
Ten: I happen to sit down at the bar next to Henry the Banker. He's roughly my dad's age. He is with two other creepers. Henry though, offers to buy me a drink. I ask for my signature vodka and pineapple juice. He asks me for my brand of vodka. I name it, and Henry makes a snide remark about me picking an expensive brand. Look buddy, I was going to by my own drink, but you offered and then asked my preference. If you don't want to buy me a drink, don't.
Eleven: Henry proceeds to tell me he is a banker from Kansas City and he is out there for work. And one of the creepers he was with is their client. Who just had sex in a strip club. Yes, he said that. Henry asked this guy to say one nice thing about Henry. The creep said "ummm he's a banker." You cannot make this up. But Henry, who is not one who frequents a gym, nor does he have much hair remaining, thought he actually had a chance with me. He starts trying to tell me he can get me a job at a major competitor's firm out of Kansas City, and how he has done that for other women in the past. Real Creep, this one.
Twelve, the bar is closing down. Henry's friends head back to their hotel, which is where the Jersey Shore stayed. Apparently they were really proud to be staying in that herpes haven. Drug Dealer's friends have likewise headed home, so it is me, K, Drug Dealer, and Henry. Drug Dealer suggests we go back to his room and smoke weed. I was like um, no. So we finally agreed to go with Henry back to his hotel for a drink.
Thirteen: We start walking in that direction. Henry is trying to ditch Drug Dealer and K, and Drug Dealer is trying to do the same. K and I, however, each are under the false impression that the other wants to actually spend time with her respective male. Henry and Drug Dealer are being openly hostile to each other and trading insults, which were actually hilarious, but would take too long to type. At some point, it becomes clear, though, that there is no bar in this hotel. Henry was trying to lure us into his hotel room.
Fourteen: Hell no. K and I huddle and determine we don't want to spend another minute with either of these fools. So we decide to just hop in a cab home. Henry and Drug Dealer, though, were eternal optimists. And they were huddling up and discussing how to "Close the deal" and patting each other's butts. It was the most pathetic display since A's behavior earlier that night.
So, we say goodbye to the boys at about 5am. As we get into the cab, people are starting to stretch for the marathon happening that day. They waved at us. Sigh. We're not five minutes down the road when I get a text from Henry: Come up to my room. We're getting a pizza. Herpes free, I promise.
That was his pickup line. I declined. And for the rest of his stay, he tried to get us to come back out with him. Didn't happen. As much as I love pizza, if you have to tell me that it is herpes free, I am not interest.
hahhaa.
-W
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Dear Miami,
Back in December, A and I decided to go on a super cheap vacation due to a really awesome fare sale on Southwest.com. So in January, we embarked upon our week long excursion to fun in the sun. We stayed with my cousin, K, who happens to live there and is the hostess with the mostest. Love her. Seriously, we punked her by changing into hooker outfits for when she picked us up at the airport and she STILL let us stay.
So, since we were dressed like hookers and it was late when we arrived in Miami, we opted for bed that first night. The second night, however, A and I decided to live la vida loca. Begin makeout contest.
We had dinner at this beautiful restaurant called Crazy About You. The wine started there. After that we went to the Brickell area where my cousin lives for drinking and dancing.
Upon arrival at Baru, Daniel the Colombian chats us up. He sells boats in Miami. He was hilarious. He even tried to help A find boys for her makeout contest, which was useful since there was a language barrier that he could bridge for her. She tried chatting up Eduardo (or something similar... the details are very fuzzy from that night) and found that he didn't speak much English. But his friend was the owner of the bar and sent over a round of some delicious tasting shots.
Those of you who know me, immediately thought "uh oh, W's taking shots... this can't be good." And it wasn't. Anytime you see me out, if you see me taking shots, it probably means I have had so much to drink I can no longer taste anything. Hence, I am ok with taking shots.
A little while later, up comes Knoxville. Now, Knoxville was very cute. As in I had already noticed him across the bar, which is unusual for my self-absorbed self. So when he came up to talk to me, I was a happy camper. He introduced himself, I forgot his name instantly, and instead remembered that he was from Knoxville and that when I asked him what he did for a living, he said he "manipulated people." I said, "So do I. I'm a lawyer." He replied that he was a doctor. His friends were all doctors or medical students, including the one who said "I put people to sleep for a living." Hi, hello, Dateline.
One thing leads to another and Knoxville and I are making out and dancing. Classy, I know. At one point, though, I turn around and see A making out with one of the medical students. And I may have shouted across the bar "A! It looks like you have hump hair!" Because it was such an intense makeout, that her hair was all messed up. Lol. Also -- A gets wingman of the year award right here because Med Student was a douchebag and a half. At one point he told her "I'm only talking to you because my friend likes you friend. To which, A replied "I'm only talking to you because we're in a makeout contest." Love it!
After a bit, we all decide to head to a different bar and the medical students head home. I go to the bathroom first, and upon coming out run into Daniel. Daniel commences to face rape me, right in front of Knoxville. Awkward. But, all is fair in love and makeout contests.
Off to the next bar we head, and at this point K and A are being supreme wingmen because Knoxville and I are acting at about a 25 on the obnoxious scale. We held hands all the way to the next bar, stopping to kiss along the way. Disgusting, I know.
At the next bar, I switch to water, thank the lord. At roughly 3, K and A decide they have had enough and K tells Knoxville where she lives so he can make sure I get home. And off the go. Hello, dateline. Poor life decisions.
Around 4 in the morning, we decide to leave. So Knoxville is out trying his darnedest to get me to go home with him. And of course, I'm having none of it. I am not a hobag. We compromise and agree that he can take me home so we can watch the sunrise over the ocean on his balcony. And then after that hour was up, he could take me home. I made him pinkie-promise me that he would get me home immediately after. Because yes, Dateline, in my head if he pinkie-promised to get me home soon, that was a guarantee he would not kill me and make me swim with the fishes.
So we go back to his place, and we watch the sunrise, and we talk. Til 9am. There was no sleep. Nothing but talking. We must have told each other everything there was to say. I honestly have no clue what we talked about, but I know we just sat on his couch, watched the boats and the sun come up, and chit chatted. Another thing, Knoxville was scheduled to fly out that morning for a week. So, I do remember him trying to change his flights. And in the back of my mind, I was like awww that's sweet but... I don't want him to cramp my style in Miami. Eek. So in the end, we agree that he should just come to Raleigh to visit.
At 9am he drives me home. I've had no sleep. I'm hungover.
I straggle to the front desk in last nights outfit... which is THANKFULLY, jeans and a sweater. I try to make myself understood to them, but between my sleepiness and their Spanglish, I have no idea what is being said. Finally they buzz me up and I arrive back in the apartment. Which is good, because I am pretty sure K would get in a lot of trouble if I didn't show back up. Lol.
The next day... or really later that same day, Daniel texts me to see if we want to go out on his boat with him. I am in no condition to move, let alone ride in a boat with a stranger, so I decline. Yay for good life decisions!
Stay tuned for the Herpes Free Pizza Guy story!
So, since we were dressed like hookers and it was late when we arrived in Miami, we opted for bed that first night. The second night, however, A and I decided to live la vida loca. Begin makeout contest.
We had dinner at this beautiful restaurant called Crazy About You. The wine started there. After that we went to the Brickell area where my cousin lives for drinking and dancing.
Upon arrival at Baru, Daniel the Colombian chats us up. He sells boats in Miami. He was hilarious. He even tried to help A find boys for her makeout contest, which was useful since there was a language barrier that he could bridge for her. She tried chatting up Eduardo (or something similar... the details are very fuzzy from that night) and found that he didn't speak much English. But his friend was the owner of the bar and sent over a round of some delicious tasting shots.
Those of you who know me, immediately thought "uh oh, W's taking shots... this can't be good." And it wasn't. Anytime you see me out, if you see me taking shots, it probably means I have had so much to drink I can no longer taste anything. Hence, I am ok with taking shots.
A little while later, up comes Knoxville. Now, Knoxville was very cute. As in I had already noticed him across the bar, which is unusual for my self-absorbed self. So when he came up to talk to me, I was a happy camper. He introduced himself, I forgot his name instantly, and instead remembered that he was from Knoxville and that when I asked him what he did for a living, he said he "manipulated people." I said, "So do I. I'm a lawyer." He replied that he was a doctor. His friends were all doctors or medical students, including the one who said "I put people to sleep for a living." Hi, hello, Dateline.
One thing leads to another and Knoxville and I are making out and dancing. Classy, I know. At one point, though, I turn around and see A making out with one of the medical students. And I may have shouted across the bar "A! It looks like you have hump hair!" Because it was such an intense makeout, that her hair was all messed up. Lol. Also -- A gets wingman of the year award right here because Med Student was a douchebag and a half. At one point he told her "I'm only talking to you because my friend likes you friend. To which, A replied "I'm only talking to you because we're in a makeout contest." Love it!
After a bit, we all decide to head to a different bar and the medical students head home. I go to the bathroom first, and upon coming out run into Daniel. Daniel commences to face rape me, right in front of Knoxville. Awkward. But, all is fair in love and makeout contests.
Off to the next bar we head, and at this point K and A are being supreme wingmen because Knoxville and I are acting at about a 25 on the obnoxious scale. We held hands all the way to the next bar, stopping to kiss along the way. Disgusting, I know.
At the next bar, I switch to water, thank the lord. At roughly 3, K and A decide they have had enough and K tells Knoxville where she lives so he can make sure I get home. And off the go. Hello, dateline. Poor life decisions.
Around 4 in the morning, we decide to leave. So Knoxville is out trying his darnedest to get me to go home with him. And of course, I'm having none of it. I am not a hobag. We compromise and agree that he can take me home so we can watch the sunrise over the ocean on his balcony. And then after that hour was up, he could take me home. I made him pinkie-promise me that he would get me home immediately after. Because yes, Dateline, in my head if he pinkie-promised to get me home soon, that was a guarantee he would not kill me and make me swim with the fishes.
So we go back to his place, and we watch the sunrise, and we talk. Til 9am. There was no sleep. Nothing but talking. We must have told each other everything there was to say. I honestly have no clue what we talked about, but I know we just sat on his couch, watched the boats and the sun come up, and chit chatted. Another thing, Knoxville was scheduled to fly out that morning for a week. So, I do remember him trying to change his flights. And in the back of my mind, I was like awww that's sweet but... I don't want him to cramp my style in Miami. Eek. So in the end, we agree that he should just come to Raleigh to visit.
At 9am he drives me home. I've had no sleep. I'm hungover.
I straggle to the front desk in last nights outfit... which is THANKFULLY, jeans and a sweater. I try to make myself understood to them, but between my sleepiness and their Spanglish, I have no idea what is being said. Finally they buzz me up and I arrive back in the apartment. Which is good, because I am pretty sure K would get in a lot of trouble if I didn't show back up. Lol.
The next day... or really later that same day, Daniel texts me to see if we want to go out on his boat with him. I am in no condition to move, let alone ride in a boat with a stranger, so I decline. Yay for good life decisions!
Stay tuned for the Herpes Free Pizza Guy story!
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Dear Nerd Conference (again and again),
So... Nerd Conference and I talked off and on throughout the fall. He wanted to come one weekend, but I was having a girl's weekend and the next weekend was a football game... so yeah, that wasn't going to work for me.
So he came for two nights in early December. Once again, he was a perfect gentleman and stayed in a hotel. We went to dinner and during dinner he hands me a pair of earrings I left in his suite in Vegas. This is why I wear studs and not dangling earrings... they will hurt my ears and I will take them off and leave them in stranger's rooms and never see them again. Except he kept them for me and brought them back. See, told you, he was really nice.
So after dinner, we both went home because he had to get up to see a customer in Charlotte, and I work all the dang time. So the next night was a Friday night... so we had another nice dinner and then he introduced me to the wonderful world of Red Box. My tree was already up, so it was quite romantic and cozy.
Aww.
When he left that night, he texted me when he got to his hotel that he missed me. Aw.
He didn't really do anything wrong... other than to live in the wrong state. Sucks to be him.
xoxo
W
So he came for two nights in early December. Once again, he was a perfect gentleman and stayed in a hotel. We went to dinner and during dinner he hands me a pair of earrings I left in his suite in Vegas. This is why I wear studs and not dangling earrings... they will hurt my ears and I will take them off and leave them in stranger's rooms and never see them again. Except he kept them for me and brought them back. See, told you, he was really nice.
So after dinner, we both went home because he had to get up to see a customer in Charlotte, and I work all the dang time. So the next night was a Friday night... so we had another nice dinner and then he introduced me to the wonderful world of Red Box. My tree was already up, so it was quite romantic and cozy.
Aww.
When he left that night, he texted me when he got to his hotel that he missed me. Aw.
He didn't really do anything wrong... other than to live in the wrong state. Sucks to be him.
xoxo
W
Dear Flat Tire,
I agreed to meet you for coffee, since I wasn't that into your profile. I said I needed to meet later in the evening because of work. You said no problem, you would be coming straight from your son's baseball game anyway. So after working a LONG day, I headed over to the Starbucks.
My phone was in my bag, since I have my crutches, I don't have hands to carry things like bright pink cell phones. So... I didn't hear it buzz when you sent me a text at quarter til. Saying you had a flat tire and wanting to reschedule.
Your wording, however, threw up red flags.
1. You said you "just walked outside" and your tire was flat. I'm guessing that you didn't just walk outside anywhere, since you should have been outside at your son's baseball game.
2. A text message within 15 minutes of when you are supposed to meet someone is unacceptable. Normal people would have called, ESPECIALLY if they didn't get an immediate response. Which leads me to my next thought:
3. There must have been a reason you didn't call. The only reason I can think of... you are married or in a relationship and couldn't be overheard.
So, Flat Tire, I will not be rescheduling with you. Gross.
W
My phone was in my bag, since I have my crutches, I don't have hands to carry things like bright pink cell phones. So... I didn't hear it buzz when you sent me a text at quarter til. Saying you had a flat tire and wanting to reschedule.
Your wording, however, threw up red flags.
1. You said you "just walked outside" and your tire was flat. I'm guessing that you didn't just walk outside anywhere, since you should have been outside at your son's baseball game.
2. A text message within 15 minutes of when you are supposed to meet someone is unacceptable. Normal people would have called, ESPECIALLY if they didn't get an immediate response. Which leads me to my next thought:
3. There must have been a reason you didn't call. The only reason I can think of... you are married or in a relationship and couldn't be overheard.
So, Flat Tire, I will not be rescheduling with you. Gross.
W
Monday, April 16, 2012
Dear Nerd Conference (again),
Oh my loyal readers... I've been busy busy busy. Sorry for the long delay in posting. Let's pick back up where we left off shall we?
So... the guy I met in Vegas, Nerd Conference, decided he simply must come visit me in North Carolina. So about a month after Vegas he flew in from Austin, where he lives. He's super handsome and has a hot British accent, which he uses to tell me how amazing and gorgeous I am... what's not to love?
So, anyway, I told him he would have to get a hotel. He agreed, and the day arrived when he flew in. I was super busy at work so I didn't come to pick him up from his hotel until later. He was a trooper though. He gamely went along with my driving tour of Raleigh.
We went to Bella Monica for dinner, and talk and drank wine and it was not nearly as awkward as it should have been. I mean, really, it could have been beyond awkward considering we had never seen each other sober. (or even something remotely close to sober.. remember, I didn't even know he had an accent until someone told me, and he has a STRONG accent).
We kissed, of course, but at the end of the night, I dropped him right back off at his hotel. I told him I would come get him the next day and we could do breakfast before he flew back home.
So... the next morning, I get up and pick him up for breakfast. I had to go to work that day, and the airport was close to his hotel, so I decided to go to my favorite breakfast place in Raleigh... Waffle House. No, seriously, I am in love with their hashbrowns.
He laughed and asked if we were really going there sober, and I told him not to be such a wuss. So in we walk, and we sit down. Over comes the waiter. Who recognizes me.
Shit.
Who recognizes me from all the breakfasts I had there with Sam's Club before work.
Double Shit.
And DECIDES TO COMMENT ON IT.
Kill me now.
So, the waiter comes up to the two of us and says "I saw your ex in here about a month ago. He was by himself. He looked like hell. Very sad. Very lonely"
I said... "Oh, that's too bad. I'll have the hashbrowns" but in my mind I was thinking "Good. Serves him right... BUT CAN'T YOU SEE I AM ON A DATE WITH A HOT BRITISH GUY?!?!"
Omg. Awkward. Nerd conference, in his very polite British way, just smirked at me and didn't make too much of a big deal out of it, except a snide remark or two about how many guys I must take there.
After we ate, Nerd Conference was off to Europe for some work. We kissed goodbye just like in the movies.
-W
So... the guy I met in Vegas, Nerd Conference, decided he simply must come visit me in North Carolina. So about a month after Vegas he flew in from Austin, where he lives. He's super handsome and has a hot British accent, which he uses to tell me how amazing and gorgeous I am... what's not to love?
So, anyway, I told him he would have to get a hotel. He agreed, and the day arrived when he flew in. I was super busy at work so I didn't come to pick him up from his hotel until later. He was a trooper though. He gamely went along with my driving tour of Raleigh.
We went to Bella Monica for dinner, and talk and drank wine and it was not nearly as awkward as it should have been. I mean, really, it could have been beyond awkward considering we had never seen each other sober. (or even something remotely close to sober.. remember, I didn't even know he had an accent until someone told me, and he has a STRONG accent).
We kissed, of course, but at the end of the night, I dropped him right back off at his hotel. I told him I would come get him the next day and we could do breakfast before he flew back home.
So... the next morning, I get up and pick him up for breakfast. I had to go to work that day, and the airport was close to his hotel, so I decided to go to my favorite breakfast place in Raleigh... Waffle House. No, seriously, I am in love with their hashbrowns.
He laughed and asked if we were really going there sober, and I told him not to be such a wuss. So in we walk, and we sit down. Over comes the waiter. Who recognizes me.
Shit.
Who recognizes me from all the breakfasts I had there with Sam's Club before work.
Double Shit.
And DECIDES TO COMMENT ON IT.
Kill me now.
So, the waiter comes up to the two of us and says "I saw your ex in here about a month ago. He was by himself. He looked like hell. Very sad. Very lonely"
I said... "Oh, that's too bad. I'll have the hashbrowns" but in my mind I was thinking "Good. Serves him right... BUT CAN'T YOU SEE I AM ON A DATE WITH A HOT BRITISH GUY?!?!"
Omg. Awkward. Nerd conference, in his very polite British way, just smirked at me and didn't make too much of a big deal out of it, except a snide remark or two about how many guys I must take there.
After we ate, Nerd Conference was off to Europe for some work. We kissed goodbye just like in the movies.
-W
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Dear daters,
About a million and a half people are posting this link, lately. So, I thought I would too. It's about dating people you know are wrong for you, and stopping doing that, and trusting God with your dating life.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igCj3jsbcqs&feature=share
Other updates:
The Vampire story was not about me. I've asked the girl who sent it in for a more detailed post soon.
I've been so quiet about dating because one of the guys I was dating for a while was awesome, but old, and wealthy. So while it would make a great blogging story, I can't really discuss it for privacy reasons. (Read: you'd figure out who I was talking about)
I will be updating some blogs about dates with Nerd Conference (the guy I met in Vegas). He's come out twice to visit me now. And he still has that hot British Accent. Huzzah for being told you're hot with an accent. ;)
-W
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igCj3jsbcqs&feature=share
Other updates:
The Vampire story was not about me. I've asked the girl who sent it in for a more detailed post soon.
I've been so quiet about dating because one of the guys I was dating for a while was awesome, but old, and wealthy. So while it would make a great blogging story, I can't really discuss it for privacy reasons. (Read: you'd figure out who I was talking about)
I will be updating some blogs about dates with Nerd Conference (the guy I met in Vegas). He's come out twice to visit me now. And he still has that hot British Accent. Huzzah for being told you're hot with an accent. ;)
-W
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Dear Vampire,
Dear Mr. Vampire:
You clearly suck. I hate you. This was one of the worst social experiences of my life. It was cool for you to kiss me but not cool for you to bite me and leave marks.
Signed: Has a sharp stake and garlic.
actual photographs of this incident...
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Dear Mr. Gym Class Hero,
Dear Mr. Gym Teacher,
I picked you out of the crowd at the bar, because you were tragically dressed in a navy v-neck sweater that your mom probably bought for you. You looked like you were a nice guy; and I thought you could be a project that I could fix up. So I grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. Let’s just accept the fact that you wanted me, because after a few drinks my confidence borders on hubris. [Example: I was told by several men that night that I was hot. To which I responded "I know."]
Then Mr. Gym Teacher, I'm not sure how we got to talking, or what we were talking about, because let’s face it, i was 2 or 3 sheets to the wind. I know that I asked you what you did and how old you were. You were a 24 year old gym teacher, and very proud of it. This is cute, if you are a nice guy. But eventually you made a comment, which basically stated that I WAS going to go home with you that night. So of course, I wanted to make it perfectly clear to you that you were not getting inside of this pair of designer denim tonight or at any point. So, without hesitation I point around the bar and said "There are plenty of other girls at this bar you can go talk to." Frankly dude, did you really think being a gym teacher is going to get you laid? Has this worked for you in the past? Clearly you don't know me; because even if you were a doctor this strategy would not have worked. As if you hadn't already made enough of an ass out of yourself then you said "I don't date". Again dude, know your audience. That night, the last thing I was looking for was a date. After a serious relationship, the scariest thing is going out on a first date with someone new. So I certainly wasn't interested in dating anyone; much less an arrogant gym teacher. In fact, at the bar I had been at 10 min earlier, I ditched a guy because he wanted to take me out on a date the next day; but that's a whole other story. My point is: I was just looking to dance, have fun, and not worry about dating or going home with anyone that night. Clearly, you misunderstood. Later in the night, as I'm giving out my phone number to a different guy at the bar at 1:57am, I glance over to you, and see that you are alone. Why so sad Mr. Gym Teacher? You should probably work on your pick up lines. I'm guessing "I'm a gym teacher, wanna bone?", doesn’t work. Best of luck in the future.
xoxo,
M
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Dear Matt the Poker,
I just got poked on facebook. Really? I don't think that has happened to me since roughly 2005. Wow.
But big blog posts headed your way?
So, loyal readers! Get pumped up and happy weekend and GO WOLFPACK!!!
w
But big blog posts headed your way?
So, loyal readers! Get pumped up and happy weekend and GO WOLFPACK!!!
w
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Dear Hamilton,
This weekend, A and I went out to the bars with some other girls. We were drunk and ridiculous (what else is new) and giving out fake names. Like we do, when we aren't really interested, but we still want to flirt.
So, A strikes up a drunken convo with three guys at a table (dudes reading this blog, if you have empty seats near you, girls will appear. it's not you, our heels are killing us). We introduce ourselves with fake names as always. Guys one and two say hello. Not guy three.
Guy three goes "W is not your name! You went to the College of Management. You were in ______ club and ______ club with me."
Busted. Can I point out that college was forever ago, because his name did ring somewhat familiar, but I in no way would have remembered it over 5 years later.
Does stuff like this happen to anyone else? Or just me?
Sigh,
W
So, A strikes up a drunken convo with three guys at a table (dudes reading this blog, if you have empty seats near you, girls will appear. it's not you, our heels are killing us). We introduce ourselves with fake names as always. Guys one and two say hello. Not guy three.
Guy three goes "W is not your name! You went to the College of Management. You were in ______ club and ______ club with me."
Busted. Can I point out that college was forever ago, because his name did ring somewhat familiar, but I in no way would have remembered it over 5 years later.
Does stuff like this happen to anyone else? Or just me?
Sigh,
W
Monday, September 19, 2011
Dear Vegas,
I give in. Three nights is all I can handle before I lose my ability to think and speak in complete sentences. Seriously, by the last day in Vegas, I felt like I was wandering around in circles.
We slept in that day, and basically hung out in our fabulous room. MG2 and A3 spent the day shopping, so that was wonderful.
That night, we went to Coyote Ugly's for happy hour. There, A1 and A2 got involved in a flip cup competition. MG2 and I hung back. But the other girls on their team SUCKED. Who sucks at flip cup? Seriously. It was there that I paid 8 bucks for two drinks. The first and last money I spent on alcohol in Vegas (except for the pint of rum I used to pregame with). Under ten bucks for five days. Not bad, not bad at all. I was super nice to MG2 on this little excursion despite her once again being completely obnoxious with the eye rolling.
When we got back to the hotel, the other girls were going to see Peepshow with Holly Madison from the Girls Next Door. While, I'm a fan, I'm not a fan of paying a lot of money to see boobs. I have my own. I can see them every single day for free.
Once they got back from the show, MG2 thankfully went to bed like the Debbie Downer she is. A1, A2 and I left for the clubs. I had somehow deleted the text that had us on the list for PURE (did I mention how hungover I was at this point) so we went to JET where A2 had us on the list. It was a little ghetto for my taste, we had to wait in line, and we couldn't get a bartender's attention. The final straw was going to the bathroom and seeing the floor littered with cocaine. Not my scene, y'all.
So we ditched the club and went to the Casino. A2 wanted to gamble some, while A1 and I scoped out the talent. The talent was lacking, but we did spot a cute guy next to TWO empty chairs at penny slots. Winning! And then A2 walks over and says "Hey Trey" and he says "Hey A2". And that's how you know its time to leave Vegas.
When you are about to hit on a guy who lives in your hometown. Who works everyday with one of your best friends. Who would totally ruin the what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas mantra.
So, we just went home and went to bed. And spent the next morning trying not to puke on our flights home.
-W
We slept in that day, and basically hung out in our fabulous room. MG2 and A3 spent the day shopping, so that was wonderful.
That night, we went to Coyote Ugly's for happy hour. There, A1 and A2 got involved in a flip cup competition. MG2 and I hung back. But the other girls on their team SUCKED. Who sucks at flip cup? Seriously. It was there that I paid 8 bucks for two drinks. The first and last money I spent on alcohol in Vegas (except for the pint of rum I used to pregame with). Under ten bucks for five days. Not bad, not bad at all. I was super nice to MG2 on this little excursion despite her once again being completely obnoxious with the eye rolling.
When we got back to the hotel, the other girls were going to see Peepshow with Holly Madison from the Girls Next Door. While, I'm a fan, I'm not a fan of paying a lot of money to see boobs. I have my own. I can see them every single day for free.
Once they got back from the show, MG2 thankfully went to bed like the Debbie Downer she is. A1, A2 and I left for the clubs. I had somehow deleted the text that had us on the list for PURE (did I mention how hungover I was at this point) so we went to JET where A2 had us on the list. It was a little ghetto for my taste, we had to wait in line, and we couldn't get a bartender's attention. The final straw was going to the bathroom and seeing the floor littered with cocaine. Not my scene, y'all.
So we ditched the club and went to the Casino. A2 wanted to gamble some, while A1 and I scoped out the talent. The talent was lacking, but we did spot a cute guy next to TWO empty chairs at penny slots. Winning! And then A2 walks over and says "Hey Trey" and he says "Hey A2". And that's how you know its time to leave Vegas.
When you are about to hit on a guy who lives in your hometown. Who works everyday with one of your best friends. Who would totally ruin the what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas mantra.
So, we just went home and went to bed. And spent the next morning trying not to puke on our flights home.
-W
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Dear Ahoy,
So the next day, I fully expected an apology from MG2. She apologized to A1. But the rest of us, she said not a word to. Not even me, the person she was talking shit about all night, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.
But here is how I felt better about myself. While she was apologizing to A1, she was wearing her Mom swimsuit that was about the most unflattering cut I have ever seen on anyone. Seriously it was all wrong on the bottom. And I was in my bikini, letting my ab outline do the "fuck you" talking for me. Winning, no?
So anyway, A1 and I hang out for the day, and the other girls split off into twosomes. A1 and I, in our struggles to find the hotel pool, managed to get us on every VIP list in Las Vegas. Sorry for Partying and Being Pretty. Seriously, how we pulled that off when we looked hungover as hell, I'll never know. But I'm not complaining. I think A2 and L got on some guest lists too, but the ones A1 and I signed us up for had better drink specials, so that determined our destiny.
So, A1 and I decide to nurse our hangovers at the Cesar's Palace pool before we switched to our new hotel, Planet Hollywood Westgate. Sloppy and Poundtown ask to join us, and we let them, because we needed the entertainment. Best part: Sloppy and Poundtown asked to make sure MG2 wasn't with us, because they hated her guts. She apparently hit on them a little too hard and didn't get a hint. Plus, she was mean to them. Understandable.
So, late afternoon, A1 and I leave to go switch our hotels. Our new suite at Westgate Towers was AMAZING. It was seriously like being on MTV's Real World, as you can see.
Well, MG2 was still being a bitch, and A1 wanted to go hang out with Sloppy some more, so I went along to chaperone, since A1 has a boyfriend. We joined the boys at the Monte Carlo pool. There in the most coordinated dude move ever, they did a divide and conquer and A1 split with Sloppy for the Lazy River. And then we switched. So I was wingman with Poundtown. He was hilarious. From Texas. A twin. It started to sound really familiar (hello Summer 2006 in Madrid with Frick/Frack/Micky/Minnie/Porter/VanDyke).
So Poundtown and I are hitting it off and we get back from the lazy river and Poundtown is all "let's go get some steak." But A1 has just told Sloppy she has a boyfriend so they walk us back to our hotel, trying to devise a way to get out of dinner. A1, you owe me a freakin steak.
So we get up to our room, and the other girls are hanging out in the HOT TUB IN OUR BEDROOM. Awesome. So A1 and I join in. MG2 immediately gets out, but not before rolling her eyes and sighing a lot. STFU MG2. I was just ignoring her at this point. So we all got ready to go out, and we ended up going to Tryst.
On a Friday night, we had VIP from earlier in the day, so we didn't have to wait in the LONG ASS line, we got comped a round of drinks ($20 bucks each) and we didn't have to pay the cover (I heard it was $30, but that seems crazy). Anyway, Tryst was awesome. Had a giant waterfall, great dance floor, etc. The drinks were pricey, but I'm a girl so that doesn't really affect me. So we're all dancing and having a good time. But not MG2.
A1 and A2's booty shaking soon leads a group of guys over to us. Navy Boys. Ahoy. So my navy guy eventually decides he wants to spend money on me like he is a sailor on leave, and I felt it was my patriotic duty to let him. So he gets us a round of Patron shots, to the tune of $30 each. Plus two Belevedere and pineapple drinks for me and him. I am handing out the shots and as I hand one to MG2 she looks at me in disgust and goes "I don't do patron." Right in front of Navy.
Rude.
A2, seeing my blood boil at this hateful bitch not only being rude to me, but now to strangers who are generously buying her drinks, forced MG2 to take the shot. But, MG2 then made another snotty comment right in front of Navy that "Why didn't he buy us all a mixed drink?"
Wtf. You can't have it both ways MG2. You can either be nice and social and say thank you like a decent human being. Or you can call me a slut for getting free drinks, but if you take this route, then at least put your money where your mouth is. Sit your fat ass in line for a few hours, pay a ridiculous cover and buy yourself all your drinks. Otherwise, STFU. Nobody wants to hear your nonsense.
So, Navy and I leave her ungrateful ass and go back to the dance floor. We have a great time. The highlight was the gay Indian guy (different from the first night) that fell in love with A2 had a danceoff with Navy. Best danceoff EVER. Seriously, it made my night.
So, I'm having fun on the dance floor, when A2 comes up and asks me why I want to leave. Huh? I don't want to leave, I'm having fun. Apparently, MG2 had told A2 that A1 and I had told her (MG2) that we were ready to leave. A2, thought this was weird and confirmed that neither A1 nor I had ever said anything of the sort. In fact, we hadn't seen MG2 since we left the bar area. Yup, turns out MG2 was just trying to get everyone to go home because she was not having fun.
You have as much fun as you make, MG2. So A1 and A2 and I hung out with our Navy boys for a while longer. Navy turned out to be a TERRIBLE kisser, so when our feet started hurting, we headed back to the hotel. But I was FURIOUS at MG2's rude behavior.
SFP and BP, MG2.
-W
But here is how I felt better about myself. While she was apologizing to A1, she was wearing her Mom swimsuit that was about the most unflattering cut I have ever seen on anyone. Seriously it was all wrong on the bottom. And I was in my bikini, letting my ab outline do the "fuck you" talking for me. Winning, no?
So anyway, A1 and I hang out for the day, and the other girls split off into twosomes. A1 and I, in our struggles to find the hotel pool, managed to get us on every VIP list in Las Vegas. Sorry for Partying and Being Pretty. Seriously, how we pulled that off when we looked hungover as hell, I'll never know. But I'm not complaining. I think A2 and L got on some guest lists too, but the ones A1 and I signed us up for had better drink specials, so that determined our destiny.
So, A1 and I decide to nurse our hangovers at the Cesar's Palace pool before we switched to our new hotel, Planet Hollywood Westgate. Sloppy and Poundtown ask to join us, and we let them, because we needed the entertainment. Best part: Sloppy and Poundtown asked to make sure MG2 wasn't with us, because they hated her guts. She apparently hit on them a little too hard and didn't get a hint. Plus, she was mean to them. Understandable.
Well, MG2 was still being a bitch, and A1 wanted to go hang out with Sloppy some more, so I went along to chaperone, since A1 has a boyfriend. We joined the boys at the Monte Carlo pool. There in the most coordinated dude move ever, they did a divide and conquer and A1 split with Sloppy for the Lazy River. And then we switched. So I was wingman with Poundtown. He was hilarious. From Texas. A twin. It started to sound really familiar (hello Summer 2006 in Madrid with Frick/Frack/Micky/Minnie/Porter/VanDyke).
So Poundtown and I are hitting it off and we get back from the lazy river and Poundtown is all "let's go get some steak." But A1 has just told Sloppy she has a boyfriend so they walk us back to our hotel, trying to devise a way to get out of dinner. A1, you owe me a freakin steak.
So we get up to our room, and the other girls are hanging out in the HOT TUB IN OUR BEDROOM. Awesome. So A1 and I join in. MG2 immediately gets out, but not before rolling her eyes and sighing a lot. STFU MG2. I was just ignoring her at this point. So we all got ready to go out, and we ended up going to Tryst.
On a Friday night, we had VIP from earlier in the day, so we didn't have to wait in the LONG ASS line, we got comped a round of drinks ($20 bucks each) and we didn't have to pay the cover (I heard it was $30, but that seems crazy). Anyway, Tryst was awesome. Had a giant waterfall, great dance floor, etc. The drinks were pricey, but I'm a girl so that doesn't really affect me. So we're all dancing and having a good time. But not MG2.
A1 and A2's booty shaking soon leads a group of guys over to us. Navy Boys. Ahoy. So my navy guy eventually decides he wants to spend money on me like he is a sailor on leave, and I felt it was my patriotic duty to let him. So he gets us a round of Patron shots, to the tune of $30 each. Plus two Belevedere and pineapple drinks for me and him. I am handing out the shots and as I hand one to MG2 she looks at me in disgust and goes "I don't do patron." Right in front of Navy.
Rude.
A2, seeing my blood boil at this hateful bitch not only being rude to me, but now to strangers who are generously buying her drinks, forced MG2 to take the shot. But, MG2 then made another snotty comment right in front of Navy that "Why didn't he buy us all a mixed drink?"
Wtf. You can't have it both ways MG2. You can either be nice and social and say thank you like a decent human being. Or you can call me a slut for getting free drinks, but if you take this route, then at least put your money where your mouth is. Sit your fat ass in line for a few hours, pay a ridiculous cover and buy yourself all your drinks. Otherwise, STFU. Nobody wants to hear your nonsense.
So, Navy and I leave her ungrateful ass and go back to the dance floor. We have a great time. The highlight was the gay Indian guy (different from the first night) that fell in love with A2 had a danceoff with Navy. Best danceoff EVER. Seriously, it made my night.
So, I'm having fun on the dance floor, when A2 comes up and asks me why I want to leave. Huh? I don't want to leave, I'm having fun. Apparently, MG2 had told A2 that A1 and I had told her (MG2) that we were ready to leave. A2, thought this was weird and confirmed that neither A1 nor I had ever said anything of the sort. In fact, we hadn't seen MG2 since we left the bar area. Yup, turns out MG2 was just trying to get everyone to go home because she was not having fun.
You have as much fun as you make, MG2. So A1 and A2 and I hung out with our Navy boys for a while longer. Navy turned out to be a TERRIBLE kisser, so when our feet started hurting, we headed back to the hotel. But I was FURIOUS at MG2's rude behavior.
SFP and BP, MG2.
-W
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Dear Mean Girl (Part 2)
Tonight you really showed your true colors. I didn't hang out with you all day. I was hanging out with A2 and L. We were supposed to meet up for happy hour at this really great restaurant that I adore. You and A1 decided to go to a sushi restaurant happy hour instead. I don't eat sushi, so we said we would join you guys after we ate.
By the time we finish up eating, you and A1 are wasted. Loud and obnoxious wasted. But we join you at the bar to chitchat before it was time to get ready. A2 and L are seated next to two rather goodlooking guys, Sloppy and Poundtown. They started a friendly banter. After a bit, A2, L and I head upstairs to get ready. You and A2 stay down at the restaurant with the boys to get your flirt on. Unfortunately for you, you have put on a lot of weight, but your bitchy attitude has remained in place.
You called the boys assholes and douchebags to their face. While trying to sit in their lap. In a bar stool. Seriously, did you expect that to go over well. Nevertheless, Sloppy got A2's number and texted her that he needed to go upstairs to our room to charge his phone. A2 said no. Why? Because we had 6 girls in various stages of undress and 4 of the 6, including you had boyfriends. That's when the shit hit the fan.
A2 and I were in our room, across the hall and two doors down when we hear YELLING. You are bitching A1 out because she didn't agree to let the boys in the room. Her theory being that Sloppy and Poundtown could meet A3, who wasn't even at the restaurant. And I hate to be mean, but I doubt they would have even been interested, if you know what I mean.
So I come over to your room and Holy Moley, I walk in and find you screaming at A1 about how much she has changed into a slut because of my bad influence. Seriously. You proceeded to continue to talk shit about me. While I was standing right there. Why am I a slut? Because I accept free drinks from guys at bars. Seriously, that's it.
But I decided to take the high road and not get into it with you, because you were being ridiculous and not making any sense. And arguing with drunk people when I could be out and about enjoying my vacation, didn't seem like the smartest idea.
Meanwhile, I had been texting back and forth with Nerd Conference throughout the day, so I was ready to go out and flirt. So we finally left your crying, pouting, tail in the room and went to the Palms. We went to the Playboy Club and then to Moon. Moon has a crazy nice balcony area overlooking the strip. It was awesome.
Nerd Conference and friends met us out again. The rest of the girls went back to the hotel room, but since I had about zero desire to go back on the off chance that you were still up, I stayed out with the guys. We drank and talked at the Bellagio and then I went to Nerd Conference's kick ass room at the Palazzo. It had an amazing view. I had definite room envy.
We made out for a few and then I got a cab back to our hotel. I thought that maybe you would get your shit together the next day and the bitchiness was just you being drunk and obnoxious.
I was proved wrong.
-W
By the time we finish up eating, you and A1 are wasted. Loud and obnoxious wasted. But we join you at the bar to chitchat before it was time to get ready. A2 and L are seated next to two rather goodlooking guys, Sloppy and Poundtown. They started a friendly banter. After a bit, A2, L and I head upstairs to get ready. You and A2 stay down at the restaurant with the boys to get your flirt on. Unfortunately for you, you have put on a lot of weight, but your bitchy attitude has remained in place.
You called the boys assholes and douchebags to their face. While trying to sit in their lap. In a bar stool. Seriously, did you expect that to go over well. Nevertheless, Sloppy got A2's number and texted her that he needed to go upstairs to our room to charge his phone. A2 said no. Why? Because we had 6 girls in various stages of undress and 4 of the 6, including you had boyfriends. That's when the shit hit the fan.
A2 and I were in our room, across the hall and two doors down when we hear YELLING. You are bitching A1 out because she didn't agree to let the boys in the room. Her theory being that Sloppy and Poundtown could meet A3, who wasn't even at the restaurant. And I hate to be mean, but I doubt they would have even been interested, if you know what I mean.
So I come over to your room and Holy Moley, I walk in and find you screaming at A1 about how much she has changed into a slut because of my bad influence. Seriously. You proceeded to continue to talk shit about me. While I was standing right there. Why am I a slut? Because I accept free drinks from guys at bars. Seriously, that's it.
But I decided to take the high road and not get into it with you, because you were being ridiculous and not making any sense. And arguing with drunk people when I could be out and about enjoying my vacation, didn't seem like the smartest idea.
Meanwhile, I had been texting back and forth with Nerd Conference throughout the day, so I was ready to go out and flirt. So we finally left your crying, pouting, tail in the room and went to the Palms. We went to the Playboy Club and then to Moon. Moon has a crazy nice balcony area overlooking the strip. It was awesome.
Nerd Conference and friends met us out again. The rest of the girls went back to the hotel room, but since I had about zero desire to go back on the off chance that you were still up, I stayed out with the guys. We drank and talked at the Bellagio and then I went to Nerd Conference's kick ass room at the Palazzo. It had an amazing view. I had definite room envy.
We made out for a few and then I got a cab back to our hotel. I thought that maybe you would get your shit together the next day and the bitchiness was just you being drunk and obnoxious.
I was proved wrong.
-W
Friday, September 16, 2011
Dear Nerd Conference,
I arrived in Vegas ready to party. Except it was a Wednesday night. A and I asked the bell hop where to go out that night. We were told Lavo at the Bellagio would be our best bet. Fine great. Off we went.
I tried to be classy. I really did. I wore my high school graduation dress (cheers for me fitting into it over ten years later.) I wore drunk pearls (fakes, because I've lost way too much nice jewelry to drunken nights).
The players, A1, A2, A3, MG2 (mean girl 2) and myself. A3 & MG1 took a cab to the Bellagio. They said they weren't going to walk that far. We were at Cesar's. It wasn't that far, folks. But A1 and A2 and I decided to walk the Strip and people watch. So we did.
We get a call as we are approaching the Bellagio that Lavo had a ten dollar cover. Do what? I am a girl. I am with a group of girls. I do not pay cover. No, thank you. So I suggested we go somewhere else, but A3 and MG2 had already paid the cover so we went to see what the deal was. We get to Lavo and sure enough there is a line and cover. Two things I don't approve of. So I go talk to the paramedic and get my blisters bandaged up (long walk in heels turned out to be a bad idea). While I'm dealing with that, A1 goes up to the bouncer and says we have three girls, so do we have to pay cover to go to the bar section? He looks at us, and waves us in. Perfect.
We walk in and there sitting in the corner are A3 and MG2. They had apparently not only paid the cover but also bought $20 drinks as well. Things no girl should ever do. Did I mention we were like the ONLY girls in this bar? We were about to find out why.
So, the DJ puts on this new song that I love in Zumba. So A1 and I go out and create our own dance floor in the bar. Within 30 seconds of this, we were surrounded by men and drinks were being bought for us.
The main characters that night were Nerd Conference, Mo, Banjo, Married, and Ibby. Ahhh. So turns out they were all there for some computer conference. Which I quickly dubbed the Nerd Conference. And then I collected their badges. I think at one point I had five or six. I looked like a girl after Mardi Gras with all these things around my neck. Good times.
So for whatever reason, I set my sights on Nerd Conference. He is a Brit, but currently lives in Austin. Except, Drunk W cannot ever hear accents. So that particular hotness was lost on me. A2 is tired and not nearly as drunk as A1 and I. So she is the only one who notices when A3 and MG2 peace out. We stay until closing and then move from LAVO to the bar in the casino. Where more drinks were to be had. And more nerds were to be met. Here, A2 was annoyed by Banjo (he's like 50 years old wearing a tshirt with "paddle faster, i hear banjos" on it. I shit you not.
So he gives A2 money to gamble with, and shows her his license so that she can be "ok with the 22 year age gap." Sure, buddy, sure.
After a while, we are tired, and hungry and it is morning on the east coast. So we head back down the strip to our hotel room. Nerd Conference and I are making out along the way. He's carrying my shoes and my purse, which was perfect because I decided to do a cartwheel on my way out of the Bellagio. A1 followed my lead. A2 rolled her eyes.
We get to McDonalds. They are no longer serving dinner, but have switched to breakfast. And their internet is down so no credit cards are taken. Between the 8 adults in our group, we have nine dollars to feed everyone. We get two egg mcmuffins and Ibby orders oatmeal. Nasty.
While eating, I threw the ham from the mcmuffin at A1. It smacked her in the chest. She threw it back at me. A2 had had enough. Ibby had told us he was gay at some point in the night, but A2 didn't know that. So he was hitting on her hardcore much to our amusement and A2's ire. It was great. He also proposed to her. Awesome.
After the food fight, A2 made us leave. We meandered the rest of the way down the strip. Ibby and I have a heart to heart along the way discussing his love for a girl (despite his being gay... weird, i know). He even recited poetry to me.
We get back to our hotel at 5am. Roughly 8am back home. Sigh. The nerd conference boys tried to go up to our rooms. A2 stiff armed them at the elevator. Also hilarious. I kissed Nerd Conference goodbye and he slipped me his card.
Then the girls went to bed while the nerd conference crew headed back to shower before their 7am speech by Mo. Lol. Hilarious. Loved it. Completely random night full of laughter.
I heart vegas.
-W
I tried to be classy. I really did. I wore my high school graduation dress (cheers for me fitting into it over ten years later.) I wore drunk pearls (fakes, because I've lost way too much nice jewelry to drunken nights).
The players, A1, A2, A3, MG2 (mean girl 2) and myself. A3 & MG1 took a cab to the Bellagio. They said they weren't going to walk that far. We were at Cesar's. It wasn't that far, folks. But A1 and A2 and I decided to walk the Strip and people watch. So we did.
We get a call as we are approaching the Bellagio that Lavo had a ten dollar cover. Do what? I am a girl. I am with a group of girls. I do not pay cover. No, thank you. So I suggested we go somewhere else, but A3 and MG2 had already paid the cover so we went to see what the deal was. We get to Lavo and sure enough there is a line and cover. Two things I don't approve of. So I go talk to the paramedic and get my blisters bandaged up (long walk in heels turned out to be a bad idea). While I'm dealing with that, A1 goes up to the bouncer and says we have three girls, so do we have to pay cover to go to the bar section? He looks at us, and waves us in. Perfect.
We walk in and there sitting in the corner are A3 and MG2. They had apparently not only paid the cover but also bought $20 drinks as well. Things no girl should ever do. Did I mention we were like the ONLY girls in this bar? We were about to find out why.
So, the DJ puts on this new song that I love in Zumba. So A1 and I go out and create our own dance floor in the bar. Within 30 seconds of this, we were surrounded by men and drinks were being bought for us.
The main characters that night were Nerd Conference, Mo, Banjo, Married, and Ibby. Ahhh. So turns out they were all there for some computer conference. Which I quickly dubbed the Nerd Conference. And then I collected their badges. I think at one point I had five or six. I looked like a girl after Mardi Gras with all these things around my neck. Good times.
So for whatever reason, I set my sights on Nerd Conference. He is a Brit, but currently lives in Austin. Except, Drunk W cannot ever hear accents. So that particular hotness was lost on me. A2 is tired and not nearly as drunk as A1 and I. So she is the only one who notices when A3 and MG2 peace out. We stay until closing and then move from LAVO to the bar in the casino. Where more drinks were to be had. And more nerds were to be met. Here, A2 was annoyed by Banjo (he's like 50 years old wearing a tshirt with "paddle faster, i hear banjos" on it. I shit you not.
So he gives A2 money to gamble with, and shows her his license so that she can be "ok with the 22 year age gap." Sure, buddy, sure.
After a while, we are tired, and hungry and it is morning on the east coast. So we head back down the strip to our hotel room. Nerd Conference and I are making out along the way. He's carrying my shoes and my purse, which was perfect because I decided to do a cartwheel on my way out of the Bellagio. A1 followed my lead. A2 rolled her eyes.
We get to McDonalds. They are no longer serving dinner, but have switched to breakfast. And their internet is down so no credit cards are taken. Between the 8 adults in our group, we have nine dollars to feed everyone. We get two egg mcmuffins and Ibby orders oatmeal. Nasty.
While eating, I threw the ham from the mcmuffin at A1. It smacked her in the chest. She threw it back at me. A2 had had enough. Ibby had told us he was gay at some point in the night, but A2 didn't know that. So he was hitting on her hardcore much to our amusement and A2's ire. It was great. He also proposed to her. Awesome.
After the food fight, A2 made us leave. We meandered the rest of the way down the strip. Ibby and I have a heart to heart along the way discussing his love for a girl (despite his being gay... weird, i know). He even recited poetry to me.
We get back to our hotel at 5am. Roughly 8am back home. Sigh. The nerd conference boys tried to go up to our rooms. A2 stiff armed them at the elevator. Also hilarious. I kissed Nerd Conference goodbye and he slipped me his card.
Then the girls went to bed while the nerd conference crew headed back to shower before their 7am speech by Mo. Lol. Hilarious. Loved it. Completely random night full of laughter.
I heart vegas.
-W
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Dear Mean Girls (Part 1),
So apparently August was National Be Mean to W month. I didn't get the memo until too late. And I've been traveling, had a hurricane hit, etc so I haven't posted much lately. But don't you worry. Vegas stories are coming your way.
But first, Mean Girl 1. (MG1) MG1 and I go way back. Like high school way back. We were friends in high school. I've been to her house, she's been to mine. I assumed we were still friends, or at the very least on friendly terms. When I moved away for college and life, she stayed in my hometown. The last bit of gossip that I heard about her was that she was sleeping with all these dudes at her college (the local university) and that she had been locked up for being bat-shit crazy. I have no way of knowing if either of these are true, but when you read the rest of the story, you'll come to the same conclusion as I have: If it looks like a duck... (Plus there was a story in high school that her dad went bat-shit crazy one day and came home and cut up the entire family's clothes and peaced out, causing MG1's mother to go crazy. I can confirm that MG1's mother was slightly off her rocker. She made us stand in the cold one night and refused to let us in her house. Another time she freaked out because we were driving in the rain. Crazy.)
Ok so fast forward to law school or post-law school. I forget which. One of my best friends from college, Seth, starts dating MG1. Full disclosure - Seth and I made out a few times when we first met, but there has been nothing there ever since (nearly ten years). We had grown apart, but still talk and meet up occasionally. So last year, on Seth's birthday he posts something on facebook about having to make his own birthday cake. I commented on how sad that was (Seth made me birthday cakes in college. the funfetti kind. awesome friend) and thought nothing more of it. Seth later replied that MG1 had given him a birthday cupcake for his birthday. So jokingly, I commented back like "a cupcake? you know those things are sold by the dozen." I thought that was pretty funny.
Holy shitballs. MG1 lost her ever loving shit. I get a facebook message from her (we're not even friends, she blocked me, which I didn't know until this incident, because you know, I have a life). Anyway the title of the message was "Fuck You Wendy." Classy. The body of the message was basically how dare I make a comment about cupcakes and that I was still the mean girl I was in high school.
Seriously. Signs you are crazy #34534: you flip your shit over a harmless facebook message.
I forwarded the message to Seth and requested he gain control over MG1. But I didn't respond to her, because I had nothing to say, and you can't reason with crazy.
So, fast forward to this year. Seth's old roommate was getting married. Seth's roommate is a nice guy and we are still friends. So I was invited to the wedding. Sadly, because Seth was a groomsman, MG1 had to be invited as well. We were all hopeful she could keep her shit together for a few hours, but the groom seated us at separate tables just to be on the safe side.
We make it through the ceremony just fine. Then there was an hour to kill while the wedding party took pictures. So we went to the hotel bar to catch up. I hadn't seen a lot of these guys since they graduated and most of us went to high school together as well. So we're all sitting around a big table, having a few drinks. Joking, laughing, having fun. MG1 thinks now would be an appropriate time to have 4 cocktails. When you have trouble with looking crazy sober, its probably not a good idea to get wasted BEFORE THE RECEPTION.
So all of a sudden, I hear MG1 talking shit about me. Loudly. Did I mention we are seated AT THE SAME TABLE? Seriously. No class, but once again, I am there to have fun. And under no circumstances am I going to cause a scene at my friends wedding.
We move to the reception, where it is clear she is wasted. I heard she gave some god-awful awkward toasts at her table. I saw her BEHIND the bar, whispering to the bartender. Apparently the reception staff had their eye on her the entire evening. I have been drunk at this hotel site on many occasions. Never have a seen a show quite like her.
So during dinner, MG1 comes to talk to every girl at my table. And tries to get them to go to the bathroom with her. They awkwardly did. The girl nearest me comes back and tells me that the purpose of this bathroom excursion was to continue to talk shit about me. MG1 has never met many of these girls before in her life. So now she has made an ass out of herself to my table. Good job, MG1. Way to keep a low profile.
Later on in the evening, Seth, his old roommates and I are all standing around talking. One of the roommates tells Seth he can take his bowtie off now that pictures are. So Seth takes it off and somehow it gets handed to me. I put it on my head like a hairbow. just goofing off. MG1 comes STORMING over to us. Pushes Seth and starts yelling at him with a finger pointed in his face. It was so awkward. Everyone felt sorry for Seth, but not wanting to deal with it, we all scattered to the dance floor.
Seth apparently sends her upstairs. But not before she manages to proposition the photographer to take boudoir pictures of her up in their hotel room. Nope, not slutty at all.
So with MG1 gone, Seth has no one to dance with so I fill in. I'm sure there is going to be hell to pay when she sees the wedding pictures of Seth and I dancing the last dance together. But I danced with a lot of my old guy friends that night, so it wasn't a big deal. But to crazy people, its probably a huge deal.
After the wedding was over, the wedding young folk headed over to a local bar. While at said bar, a pony carriage drove by. I shouted PONY and Seth and I bolted from the bar to take a carriage ride down the streets of Durham. It was fun, but scary. Especially when the horse weaved into oncoming traffic.
Moral of the story, MG1? If you don't act like a drunken crazy slut at a wedding reception, perhaps you will get to take a carriage ride with your boyfriend. But here's hoping that Seth dumps your crazy ass before the next wedding. Cheers!
-W
But first, Mean Girl 1. (MG1) MG1 and I go way back. Like high school way back. We were friends in high school. I've been to her house, she's been to mine. I assumed we were still friends, or at the very least on friendly terms. When I moved away for college and life, she stayed in my hometown. The last bit of gossip that I heard about her was that she was sleeping with all these dudes at her college (the local university) and that she had been locked up for being bat-shit crazy. I have no way of knowing if either of these are true, but when you read the rest of the story, you'll come to the same conclusion as I have: If it looks like a duck... (Plus there was a story in high school that her dad went bat-shit crazy one day and came home and cut up the entire family's clothes and peaced out, causing MG1's mother to go crazy. I can confirm that MG1's mother was slightly off her rocker. She made us stand in the cold one night and refused to let us in her house. Another time she freaked out because we were driving in the rain. Crazy.)
Ok so fast forward to law school or post-law school. I forget which. One of my best friends from college, Seth, starts dating MG1. Full disclosure - Seth and I made out a few times when we first met, but there has been nothing there ever since (nearly ten years). We had grown apart, but still talk and meet up occasionally. So last year, on Seth's birthday he posts something on facebook about having to make his own birthday cake. I commented on how sad that was (Seth made me birthday cakes in college. the funfetti kind. awesome friend) and thought nothing more of it. Seth later replied that MG1 had given him a birthday cupcake for his birthday. So jokingly, I commented back like "a cupcake? you know those things are sold by the dozen." I thought that was pretty funny.
Holy shitballs. MG1 lost her ever loving shit. I get a facebook message from her (we're not even friends, she blocked me, which I didn't know until this incident, because you know, I have a life). Anyway the title of the message was "Fuck You Wendy." Classy. The body of the message was basically how dare I make a comment about cupcakes and that I was still the mean girl I was in high school.
Seriously. Signs you are crazy #34534: you flip your shit over a harmless facebook message.
I forwarded the message to Seth and requested he gain control over MG1. But I didn't respond to her, because I had nothing to say, and you can't reason with crazy.
So, fast forward to this year. Seth's old roommate was getting married. Seth's roommate is a nice guy and we are still friends. So I was invited to the wedding. Sadly, because Seth was a groomsman, MG1 had to be invited as well. We were all hopeful she could keep her shit together for a few hours, but the groom seated us at separate tables just to be on the safe side.
We make it through the ceremony just fine. Then there was an hour to kill while the wedding party took pictures. So we went to the hotel bar to catch up. I hadn't seen a lot of these guys since they graduated and most of us went to high school together as well. So we're all sitting around a big table, having a few drinks. Joking, laughing, having fun. MG1 thinks now would be an appropriate time to have 4 cocktails. When you have trouble with looking crazy sober, its probably not a good idea to get wasted BEFORE THE RECEPTION.
So all of a sudden, I hear MG1 talking shit about me. Loudly. Did I mention we are seated AT THE SAME TABLE? Seriously. No class, but once again, I am there to have fun. And under no circumstances am I going to cause a scene at my friends wedding.
We move to the reception, where it is clear she is wasted. I heard she gave some god-awful awkward toasts at her table. I saw her BEHIND the bar, whispering to the bartender. Apparently the reception staff had their eye on her the entire evening. I have been drunk at this hotel site on many occasions. Never have a seen a show quite like her.
So during dinner, MG1 comes to talk to every girl at my table. And tries to get them to go to the bathroom with her. They awkwardly did. The girl nearest me comes back and tells me that the purpose of this bathroom excursion was to continue to talk shit about me. MG1 has never met many of these girls before in her life. So now she has made an ass out of herself to my table. Good job, MG1. Way to keep a low profile.
Later on in the evening, Seth, his old roommates and I are all standing around talking. One of the roommates tells Seth he can take his bowtie off now that pictures are. So Seth takes it off and somehow it gets handed to me. I put it on my head like a hairbow. just goofing off. MG1 comes STORMING over to us. Pushes Seth and starts yelling at him with a finger pointed in his face. It was so awkward. Everyone felt sorry for Seth, but not wanting to deal with it, we all scattered to the dance floor.
Seth apparently sends her upstairs. But not before she manages to proposition the photographer to take boudoir pictures of her up in their hotel room. Nope, not slutty at all.
So with MG1 gone, Seth has no one to dance with so I fill in. I'm sure there is going to be hell to pay when she sees the wedding pictures of Seth and I dancing the last dance together. But I danced with a lot of my old guy friends that night, so it wasn't a big deal. But to crazy people, its probably a huge deal.
After the wedding was over, the wedding young folk headed over to a local bar. While at said bar, a pony carriage drove by. I shouted PONY and Seth and I bolted from the bar to take a carriage ride down the streets of Durham. It was fun, but scary. Especially when the horse weaved into oncoming traffic.
Moral of the story, MG1? If you don't act like a drunken crazy slut at a wedding reception, perhaps you will get to take a carriage ride with your boyfriend. But here's hoping that Seth dumps your crazy ass before the next wedding. Cheers!
-W
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Dear A,
Thanks for the DLND love! Don't you just love guys thinking that a few $10 cocktails will do the trick? Sorry, players, but you start talking conspiracy theories on the first date, and the chastity belt will remain tightly fastened! If you have any other dating disasters, please send them my way to post! I loved that story. I especially love that he felt the need to "breakup" after one date. Holy nutjob.
Now, let's discuss one of the more recent men in your life: Mr.8pack. Mr. 8pack, I can see, obviously why you like him so. I mean, he's got that V going on, and abs are nice to look at. But, he's only going to be a fling. How do I know? Because he is more high maintenance than any girl I know. And when guys are that into themselves, they can't really be that into you. Hello, red flag.
Plus, you always want to be the better looking one in the relationship, and I honestly don't know how you can compete with an 8pack. I work out halfheartedly several times a week and my abs look nothing like that, and probably never will. Perhaps a boob job. I dunno.
But I wholeheartedly endorse having a little ego-boosting attention from someone with a body like that.
In addition, the perks of going out with Mr. 8pack include being able to casually show future boyfriends pictures like this one, to induce a little less beer and a lot more workouts, you know?
So, there you go, A. Completely unsolicited dating advice from a stranger. Have fun in Paris!
-W
Now, let's discuss one of the more recent men in your life: Mr.8pack. Mr. 8pack, I can see, obviously why you like him so. I mean, he's got that V going on, and abs are nice to look at. But, he's only going to be a fling. How do I know? Because he is more high maintenance than any girl I know. And when guys are that into themselves, they can't really be that into you. Hello, red flag.
Plus, you always want to be the better looking one in the relationship, and I honestly don't know how you can compete with an 8pack. I work out halfheartedly several times a week and my abs look nothing like that, and probably never will. Perhaps a boob job. I dunno.
But I wholeheartedly endorse having a little ego-boosting attention from someone with a body like that.
In addition, the perks of going out with Mr. 8pack include being able to casually show future boyfriends pictures like this one, to induce a little less beer and a lot more workouts, you know?
So, there you go, A. Completely unsolicited dating advice from a stranger. Have fun in Paris!
-W
Monday, August 15, 2011
Goodbye Sam's Club,
And all God's people said:
Amen.
-W
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Dear DDS,
It's over. Luckily, you took the hint and didn't make things awkward.
I decided to give you one last chance. I told you I wanted to slow things down and not go on "marathon dates." Although you were unhappy with that and argued somewhat, you soon figured out that we would either slow down or I was out. So you agreed to more "day dates" and no more sleepovers.
Which was why I was irritated when you set up our next date for a Friday evening. I said "what part of no slumber parties did you fail to understand?" So we agreed to meet halfway. Unfortunately, there is not much between our respective towns. There are two small towns, one being slightly bigger than the other. One is slightly closer to me, the other is slightly closer to you. The one closer to me is the bigger town, with plenty of "chain restaurants" to choose from. I suggested the bigger town closer to me, because it has decent restaurants and a movie theatre.
You refused, saying that it was "way too far for you to drive there in back in one night." It was 30 extra minutes one way for you. The town you wanted me to drive to, had only fast food restaurants, and was 20 extra minutes one way for me. You idiot.
Annoyed, but realizing that I had already agreed to this date, I agreed. You picked a restaurant. I didn't think the town had that restaurant, but you assured me that you had checked on it.
So on the day of the date, I am about to leave the house (earlier than you, because i have a longer drive). I log onto the internet to get the address. You idiot, as I had said, that small town had no decent restaurants. Just fast food. I sent you a message to that effect. You argued with me. I told you in no uncertain terms, that I had already looked it up, that it didn't exist and we needed an alternative. I again suggested that we could meet at the larger town and go somewhere different. You again told me that this "impossible." I almost told you "eff you" and went to fast food in Raleigh, but I decided this was your FINAL chance.
We select a diner and I arrive there earlier than you. Despite stopping for gas. I was highly annoyed that you had a shorter drive by 20 minutes and still managed to be late. Fail.
We muddled through dinner. At one point you said "Well, I would NEVER live with someone before I was married." All judgmental like. Coming from the same guy who showed up at my door for date 4 with a suitcase?!?!?! I informed you, that due to a series of unfortunate events (perfect storm), I had lived briefly with my ex. And you wanted the details. Perfect, I'm so glad I drove 1.5 hours, one way, to discuss why and how I came to live in my ex's house and the sordid dirty details of why that didn't work out. That conversation should have happened over the phone, not on the one date we were going to have that week. The food was terrible. The company was terrible. I knew there would be no future dates, but you didn't seem to think the same way. You tried to kiss me goodnight in the parking lot of the diner/bowling alley. I backed away.
Next time, DDS, you might want to consider taking the extra 30 minutes out of your life to meet your date at a decent restaurant. So that she doesn't have to drive an extra 40 minutes to eat interstate diner food. Just sayin'.
Best,
W
I decided to give you one last chance. I told you I wanted to slow things down and not go on "marathon dates." Although you were unhappy with that and argued somewhat, you soon figured out that we would either slow down or I was out. So you agreed to more "day dates" and no more sleepovers.
Which was why I was irritated when you set up our next date for a Friday evening. I said "what part of no slumber parties did you fail to understand?" So we agreed to meet halfway. Unfortunately, there is not much between our respective towns. There are two small towns, one being slightly bigger than the other. One is slightly closer to me, the other is slightly closer to you. The one closer to me is the bigger town, with plenty of "chain restaurants" to choose from. I suggested the bigger town closer to me, because it has decent restaurants and a movie theatre.
You refused, saying that it was "way too far for you to drive there in back in one night." It was 30 extra minutes one way for you. The town you wanted me to drive to, had only fast food restaurants, and was 20 extra minutes one way for me. You idiot.
Annoyed, but realizing that I had already agreed to this date, I agreed. You picked a restaurant. I didn't think the town had that restaurant, but you assured me that you had checked on it.
So on the day of the date, I am about to leave the house (earlier than you, because i have a longer drive). I log onto the internet to get the address. You idiot, as I had said, that small town had no decent restaurants. Just fast food. I sent you a message to that effect. You argued with me. I told you in no uncertain terms, that I had already looked it up, that it didn't exist and we needed an alternative. I again suggested that we could meet at the larger town and go somewhere different. You again told me that this "impossible." I almost told you "eff you" and went to fast food in Raleigh, but I decided this was your FINAL chance.
We select a diner and I arrive there earlier than you. Despite stopping for gas. I was highly annoyed that you had a shorter drive by 20 minutes and still managed to be late. Fail.
We muddled through dinner. At one point you said "Well, I would NEVER live with someone before I was married." All judgmental like. Coming from the same guy who showed up at my door for date 4 with a suitcase?!?!?! I informed you, that due to a series of unfortunate events (perfect storm), I had lived briefly with my ex. And you wanted the details. Perfect, I'm so glad I drove 1.5 hours, one way, to discuss why and how I came to live in my ex's house and the sordid dirty details of why that didn't work out. That conversation should have happened over the phone, not on the one date we were going to have that week. The food was terrible. The company was terrible. I knew there would be no future dates, but you didn't seem to think the same way. You tried to kiss me goodnight in the parking lot of the diner/bowling alley. I backed away.
Next time, DDS, you might want to consider taking the extra 30 minutes out of your life to meet your date at a decent restaurant. So that she doesn't have to drive an extra 40 minutes to eat interstate diner food. Just sayin'.
Best,
W
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