So I did it!
I jumped up one morning and decided that I was going back to the Dominican Republic. Booked my flight, reserved my room, now all I have to do is pack my bags.
Do I have vacation time? Nope.
Do I have an excess of spending money? Nope.
All I have is an open mind and faith that the Love I left there will be at the airport to pick me up…
It’s 2012…and today especially marks a new beginning. It’s a new day, a new week, a new month and a new year all rolled into one.
I could make a list of resolutions to quit - HA! - but I think I’m actually going to focus on where I am which is a happy place.
Yeah so, my money aint right, neither is my wardrobe and my place is a mess… not to mention that a slew of other things are out of order too BUT I realize that all those elements present the choice to either be stressed or say F*ck It! It took time to get that way and it’ll take time to correct.
NOW!!! The important thing is this psuedo-relationship that I’m in. I’m…..content with it, but things need to be shaken up a bit. I need a break to do my own thing again! My little random run-ins were such a blast!!! I miss that! The thing is, I’m not looking for physical connections, I just want those little momentary, things-all-pause flirts!
And THAT I shall do once again but is it wrong that I don’t tell him that’s what I’m out doing???? We’ll see so stay tuned!
So…. Anyway… [yeah I picked up the story from months ago as if I never stopped lol]
Thing 2 enters the utility closet and all I saw was RED - not from anger - but from his WHOOOOLE outfit being red except his jeans. Although he wasn’t wearing a MULTITUDE of accessories unlike his counterpart, each one he wore had a unique - shall we say FLARE - to it. I’m not sure if I should start from the top or bottom….hmm, let me build a foundation:
RED! PATENT! LEATHER! SHOES!!!
Yes, let’s start with THAT minor detail folks…red. patent. leather. shoes…oh the horror! The inhumanity! The injustice! But I’ll keep going…
The jeans were just some jeans, nothing noteworthy HOWEVER!!! His belt looked like a prison art project…something like interwoven comic strips with a scotch tape overlay; then again, it looked like an assortment of 1 sq. cm ceramic tiles of every imaginable color neatly glued in rows of a MILLION!!! I’ll call it (pause) a kaleidoscope belt! Moving on…
The T-shirt was an inch from a cap-sleeve…or shall we say…a baby tee! In RED of course. The interesting detail was the Mardi Gras assortment of chains, necklaces and rosary beads…yes mm-hmm wooden rosary beads… with Jesus on the cross…wearing the infamous crown of thorns and a loin cloth…yes mm-hmm, among the chains and necklaces…and I say necklaces to indicate they were slightly longer than a choker…
And we’re walking…
STOP at the earrings with his name on them…not one but a pair…with his name… to match the jewelry that matches that belt that matches the shoes that matches his baby tee that matches…his…hat *catching my breath*
At this point, my eyes are stretching BEYOND peripheral range trying to make contact with my friend. Before I know it, she sarcastically says: “Oh this is nice” as she rubs the beads as i she’s rubbing for the Savior’s mercy upon us! LOL He responds: “Yeah, I like to keep Jesus close to my heart”
OH…oh ok *blink, blink*
Me Thinking: At the club…at all times…close to your heart…yeah
In the meanwhile, Thing 1 is blinged out like a disco ball and eager to show us a good time. He’s sprayed cologne on every part of his body except his damn eyelids. Expecting the worst, we, being good sports, stepped out the door, escorted by Thing 1 and Thing 2 with the hopes of at least getting a good drink!
WRONG!
We get to the club and had to pay our way in…they, on the otherhand got in for free with their resort employee badge BUT GET THIS! With our paid admission, we each got a drink ticket. They present the following deal: “Why don’t you give us the drink ticket and we’ll just buy your drinks”. Sounds fair right?
WRONG!
There were no seats, only booths which were only available with drink service. Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. The waitress shows us the menu and they tell us to pick something…anything we like…my friend points to Dom Perignon…WHY??? LMAO Thing 2, used his index finger to cut off the top three choices; we chose the second from the top - Moet. Just our luck: they’re out! Our next selection was available and delivered to our table. At this point, I wanted my drink ticket back. This bubbly, grape-flavored drink lead to a headache and a upset stomach, yech!!!!
FAST FORWARD»»
I figured dancing might help the night, after all, the music was pretty good. A mix of American and Dominican music that kept the crowd hype. All was going well in the Land of WTF until this lunatic started dancing like a Magic City stripper!!! All I saw was back and booty popping. I didn’t know whether to make it rain or make a run for it! I maintained my cool and made my way back to booth where my friend was getting a lapdance - 2 Live Crew style - from Thing 1. Yes, mm-hmm, with the rosary beads on…at all times…close to his heart!! LOLOLOL
We ended the night with fake yawning and telling them we were leaving very early in the morning.
We saw Thing 1 the next day on our way out…he asked could he keep in touch. No habla espanol mi amigo! LOL
#DoneWithThatIsh!!
So I don’t really like to label people stupid… unless they are…and they WERE. This HAS got to be one of the craziest things I have experienced thus far. Read on…
So we agree to let Thing 1 (Stupid Is) and Thing 2 (Stupid Does) accompany us. Now, being the two Detroit savvy ladies that we are, we were dressed appropriately, and by appropriately I mean, we were cute but we had on some “let’s get the F*ck up outta here (GTFOH)” shoes on for just in case we had to get the F*ck up outta there. LOL BUT THOSE TWO!!!! -Think The GoodFellas meets Soulja Boy…..YES seriously.
Let me paint this picture for you **pulls out my painter’s palette like Bob Ross (you know Bob, the painter on PBS…the white guy with the afro…yeah, him)**
Landscape: All four of us took a cab from the resort but made a pit stop so they could change clothes. Thing 1 kept stating that he was going to show us his “Luggs-jou-ree” (luxury) apartment after which he repeated several times, “because I aint no bum ass” OOOOKKAAAYYYY O_o. Meanwhile, I observe an armed guard at the security gate as we drive up. Not to mention, the guard confiscated the taxi driver’s license before we entered this “compound”. I’m thinking, “WTF did we get ourselves into?” So here we come to our first crossroad -Do we chance it and sit in the cab while they change with a driver that doesn’t speak ANY English OR do we step inside with them? We decided to see these so-called luxury apartments which looks like a Red Roof Inn so far…
Brushstroke Detail: So he proudly invites me and my friend in like we’re about to step foot into the Taj Mahal, only to stop dead in our tracks when we realize it was more like Hakim & Semmi’s “plush” apartment in Coming to America. I mean I literally took one and a half strides and came to a HALT when I realized that I could see the bed, couch, coffee table, two barstools, bookshelf/makeshift bar stand, sink, cupboards and HOTPLATE from where I was standing…AT THE DOOR! The only other, dare I say, room was the bathroom which was steps away from the front door. He motions for us to have a seat on the couch -two paces to the left -and to “excuse his place”.
EXCUSE HIS PLACE??? Excuse this utility closet! Oh, excuse me, Luggs-jou-ree apartment!
Brushstroke Detail: **dips my brush in a new color** He’s hyped now! You know somebody is hyped when they clap while they talk.
He: “So (CLAP), I’m about to show y’all how (CLAP) we (CLAP) do(CLAP) it. Don’t worry I’m going to show (CLAP) ya’ll a good (CLAP) assed time (CLAP). Ya’ll won’t have to worry about nothing. Ya’ll (CLAP) with(CLAP) me(CLAP).”
Us: **Without moving, we smile nervously and make PERIPHERAL eye contact with each other**
He: (Towards me) Can you toss me those shorts behind you?
Me: **looks over my shoulder, reaches behind and tosses shorts as if I were playing catch with an old, partially blind, lame dog**
He: “Yeah, these are my lucky shorts…I’m wearing these because I might get lucky tonight, hahaha.” **Does an about-face and takes one step into the bathroom**
Us: **We turn to each other and bust out laughing** “Girl, is this real life?”, I ask before being startled when he hops out the bathroom wearing a XXXX SMALL white t-shirt over a white tank, a pair of jeans with his belt buckle, resembling a page from a pop-up book, purposely situated over his left pocket. Now he’s about 4 foot and 11 13/16 inches tall and built like he’s been serving 25 to life.
He: “These my kicks right here. Ya’ll don’t know nothing about these. These are fresh to def!” **reaches underneath the bed and pulls out a pair a gym shoes that looked like some damn Heelys!!!**
We are in utter shock and at a total loss of words at this point. As he bends over to put on these damn Go! Diego Go!, Reebok Pumps with the lights and shock bubble sneakers, when **knock, knock**, “‘Ellooo”, in walks Thing 2 looking like the Ringmaster of the f**king Barnum and Bailey Circus!!!!
By now, I must have the Michael Jackson Thriller zombie eyes from the look of sheer disbelief!!
(to be continued)…
(DISCLAIMER: This story may not be suitable for my MALE audience..but you know what, on second thought, you need to read about the UNIVERSAL blunders of men. Scroll down to ***)
So, no, I’m not a pirate but I did take a voyage to the Dominican Republic this April and I LOOOOVED….the resort.
My daily routine consisted of floating across the pool, marveling at the sight of the sun and the moon both visible at midday. I indulged in delectable dishes of worldly cuisines washed away with premium blends of rum and cognac. At night, I pleasured in the sounds of the ocean as its waves ebbed and flowed along the beach. For the first time in a long time, I viewed the stars and constellations, seemingly picturesque, twinkling brightly in the midnight sky. I was warmly greeted by the staff and had all of my needs tended to, anytime -day or night. Beautiful, huh?
But CMON NOW! You know that’s GOT to be to the “overlay for the underlay”!!! You know ANY experience with me would NOT be complete without a WTF episode. I mean, at minimum, it’s rated “Hell Naw” due to indecent behavior. So you KNOW!! 5 Days in the Dominican???? <ahem> Dim the lights please.
*Starts the old school 2-reeled film projector*
To start, there’s Bernardo. The poolside bartender with a smile so mischievous, your hair would sweat out just from looking at it too long. Mmm!! His linen uniform draped his body in a manner that revealed alllll the contours of his muscular physique. His eyes glistened -either from the deflection of the sun’s rays upon the pool OR from them nips of rum I saw him sipping from that lil shot glass behind the bar, lol - in either case, this man was FINE. Stomp your foot Fine Mmm!…Dominican but with a 7mile/Evergreen barbershop fade and line-up Fine…That *giggle, giggle* batting your eyelashes Fine…that Ayyy Papi, Talk that ES-PAN-OL FINE!!! But come to find out, all that FINE was for Los ChicOs, no chicAs!!! Repetir por favor… YES! That’s right! Bernado was GAY. “He no likey girls”, so I was told. “He’s 50/50”
Ain’t that a !!! All that stomping, giggling and eyelash batting I DID?!?! LOL After I recovered from such devastation, I gathered my composure and continued to enjoy the sights…and I ain’t talking about the starry sky or the ocean either! When I say those men were GORGEOUS!! *sips my ice water*… Yeah I was on vacation and was Extra flirtatious - “Yeah, yeah…I’ma email you… yeah, no foreal…I am. Si! Gracias! Adios! Hasta leugo!” I had a blast but after being in the resort for 4 straight days, it was time for something different, different sights, different sounds, different people. I suggested a club and two of the staff members kindly offered to take us to one which was pretty safe and frequently attended by the tourists. Now, it started with 8 of us going but when it came down to it, it was me and my girl. We figured, “Hey, What’s the worst the could happen”….
***Enter “Stupid Is” and “Stupid Does”… (to be continued)
…and it’s so appropriate to say as I sit in my hotel room looking down on Times Square from the 43rd floor.
Ooo…Lights. Camera. ACTION!!
So I’ve been on this blogging hiatus, not for lack of material, but for lack of time to transcribe these episodes. Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same, READ: these mofo’s still crazy out here!!!
Since I last posted, Thong Man showed back up…remember him? The one wearing a thong for no good reason…and there could NEVER be a good reason… even if you’re a F’ing Chippendale, even still briefs are most desirable because they leave something to the imagination…SOMETHING!
So he calls with the “Hey it’s been a long time you’ve been on my mind” spiel. I briefly entertain the conversation which leads to a lunch invite. Sure. Why not? Well I’m going to tell you why not…
After the whole “embrace, have a seat, food’s served” chain of events, I notice that he’s glaring into my eyes as if he’s in pure awe at the sight of me. I’m somewhat flattered, imagining that in his mind, birds are chirping, my aura is in full glow and I’m moving in slow motion while batting my eyes with a wide grin laughing at my own jokes. I continue to imagine and he’s thinking something along the lines of “Wow, she’s gorgeous…look at how her lips purse up when she says Mm-hmm…look at how the twinkling of her lipgloss is giving her eyes a run for their money…her dimples are so alluring…” You know something like that!!! He,he,he… but after a while, his stare was getting creepy as if he was about to experience a catastrophic medical emergency.
Me: Heeey, why you looking at me like that? (as I flash a coy smile)…
Him: Oh I was just looking at your eyebrows…they are arched perfectly. They look really nice, do you do them yourself?
O_o
Me: Oh…ok…um…thanks…yeah I do.
BUT. At. That. Very. Moment: I noticed his eyebrows were arched TOO!!!!! Not that extreme, “Hmm-I’m-sorry-did-you-just-say-something” arch, but a kinda “cleaned up” arch which is strange because he barely HAS eyebrows..UT OH, yeah you know where this is going… ROY G. BIV. For those that don’t know, that’s the anagram for the (singing) RAINBOW!
So, my conversation shifts to “So, how’s your dating life” and he proceeds to tell me that he’s actively dating people. No I mean, like, word for word he says:
“I’m actively dating people.”
What’s wrong with that you ask? Am I offended by his honesty? HELL NAW!! My mind is calculating and mapping these seemingly unrelated events and words:
1. Wearing Thongs
2. Arched eybrows
3. “Dating people”: a generic phrase which can be used to indicate the co-mingling with both the male and female species. For example, “Although I’ve been dating Kitty for sometime now, I think I really like Dick. For now, I’m actively dating people.”
Check! Please! …. No, I won’t be needing a carry-out, but a barf bag would be great if you have one…
WHHHYYYYYY? LOL
I returned from Columbus this week and nothing noteworthy occurred, at least not dating-wise but the afternoon I make it home, I had a dinner date, connected with a friend who has lived on every continent in the past 12 months and an encounter of a strange kind.
The dinner date was kinda sorta interesting. I met this guy at a conference a few years ago and we’d managed to keep in touch on a professional level. As I walked in to the restaurant for our date, I noticed Godiva chocolate (yummy!) and an envelope. As we enjoyed our Caribbean inspired cuisine, I ask about treats being displayed. So in the envelope, there were tickets to a concert this Saturday! Recall that this is one of the “moves” I blogged about before. Niiiiice!!! He admitted that he had a crush on me for sometime and would like to “hang out” more often. I’m thinking, as long as you keep pulling moves like this, hell yeah we can hang out!!! LOL So we’ll see how this unfolds, he’s an older guy (about 12 years), a graduate from prestigious universities including MIT and has held executive positions at well known automotive and defense companies, BUT above all that, he has a great personality and good heart!
As for my friend who hails from Cambodia (I think that’s the last place he lived), we have only talked by phone but I am soooo looking forward to seeing him. We always have a good time and there has always been some romantic tension between us. We shall ALSO see how this unfolds.
The kicker for the night happened at Club Fridays. Actually, it’s just a TGIFridays restaurant that has become THEE local hangout. So as I step into the place, I felt a little overdressed, after all I was still wearing my work clothes and everyone else had on their “meat market” attire. I had resolved in my mind that I would enjoy my drink and leave but nooooooooooo. I get approached by this guy who was acting as if I needed his approval of my attractiveness. There’s only so many thank you’s for the same compliment. He starts with the usual conversation and I’m yawning on the inside. Now, don’t get me wrong, he was attractive but once he started talking, I was turned off.
So here we are in a crowded, loud bar and he’s trying to be the great hood philosopher when he struck a nerve -
He: So yeah, I mean, people shouldn’t always think just because we exchange numbers that we have to try to be in a relationship. I mean, we could just conversate every now and then.
Me (thinking): I won’t be “conversating” with your boring ass.
I just shook my head in agreement and continued sipping my Remy but the more he talked I noticed his mouth was moving as if he had metal shrapnel and popcorn seeds in his mouth. I was further turned off when he ordered two beers, drank from both like a kid keeping their friends from asking to have some, and then asked “You want a beer?”
Me (thinking): Hell naw I don’t want secondhand beer with yo’ cheap, talking like you got jiffy pop in your mouth, wanting to conversate ass! Newsflash: Conversate is not a word!
Often times, people describe their “perfect mate” in terms of physical, mental and social characteristics; but me, myself, personally, I (LOL inside joke, unless you get it too, lol) have started to formulate my mate in terms of actions. With that being said, here are some of the actions that would make me fall in love!!!
1. I travel frequently so I would be absolutely enthralled if my mate would drive me to and from the airport. Extra points for putting in the effort to pay for short-term parking and waiting at baggage claim with a sign that says “Welcome Home”.
2. My ”perfect mate” would recognize that sometimes I’m too busy to think straight, so he would just tell me to be ready for date at a particular time and date. The conversation might go something like this:
Me: (answering phone): Hello?
Him: Hey Baby, how’s your schedule on Saturday?
Me: Well, you know… I have a few things to be done but I can always make time for you? ((wink)) Why, what’s up?
Him: Well, I know you mentioned you wanted to go to that concert downtown so I got us some tickets. I’ll be over to pick you up at 8:15…oh yeah, wear that red dress that I like.
YESSSSSS!!!! (appropriate time to do the Fired Up dance! LOL)
3. Now, I’m an independant woman but I’d have to say not by choice. I’ve become influenced mostly by my college experiences and my work environment. I work in a technical field and most of my colleagues are males who are 20-40 years my senior with a surburban/rural background. I’m a young, fresh city girl with the right credentials, the right look, and a great sense of humor (did you hear a horn tooting? lol). BUT I have to alter my ego at times and say: ”Hey, I got this!! I know what I’m doing, what I’m talking about and have the data right here! Now back the F’k up!! Don’t coddle or discount me because I’m woman.”
(Dusting off my blouse, reapplying lipgloss and brushing my hair to the side) However, the downside to that aggressive behavior makes dating difficult. Men sense that and they become intimidated because they don’t know how to handle me, but guess what guys? I like flowers, candy, a genuine compliment and hand-written notes but you know my simplest pleaure is??? To Be A Passenger In Your Car! Sounds crazy? Nope, again, it a symbolic of him being in control and allowing me to be that submissive, demure lady.
4. The Back-of-the-Neck Kiss - this move is almost always appropriate but most effective when I’m at the counter washing dishes. Why? Because when women clean, we think and plot and plan. I could be thinking how I’m going to go off on the snappy little chic and my job for always running her damn mouth, or, I could be thinking how I’m going to tell the boss I need a raise, or maybe I could be thinking about how am I going to get that red dress dry-cleaned before Saturday for the concert and shop for new accessories but I got an expected bill in the mail. But imagine in an instant, all the anxiety, stress and tension would be removed if he walked up behind me, put his arms around my waist and planted one right on the back of my neck. Mmm-mm!!! Take me now!!! LOL
5. The last move, but not the final move and in no way more or less important than the other moves, would be to grab my hand and lead me in a crowded place. (Drops the microphone and briefly walks away). Such a simple gesture gives me the feeling of reassurance and security; that he cares for me and will protect me. (pausing for an imagination break….)
I know you you may be thinking, what man DOESN’T do that and my answer is a lot of them!!! They are too preoccupied with the school of thought that if I buy her this, if I give her this, if I tell her this….she should be happy. But really, honestly, truthfully…the best things in life are SIMPLE!!
WORD TO THE WISE: Don’t start this if you can’t keep it up!!!
Opinions or feedback?
I traveled to the Richmond, VA area this past week for business. I thought it’d be uneventful but it never fails…. I’m always in the darndest of situations!!
Sunday:
I drop into Applebees for a quick, cheap dinner. As a single patron, I always sit at the bar so I don’t look extra lonely at a table or booth for four. Usually, I can strike up a convo with the bartender or an adjacent patron. But on this night, there was a couple inhaling and exhaling each other’s breath, a group of five and then there was me. The group of five was interesting: four middle-aged women and a guy. They were performing synchronized dances to the ambient music (to which I was jammin’!!! I remember the medley included Prince, The Time and Rick James and, honestly, I secretly wanted to join in ).
I tried my usual..(speaking to the bartender) “Excuse me… You know of any good places to hang out around here?”
He: “Um, let me ask THEM”, referring to the group. He asks and the guy yells “C’mon sit with us, hell, we family! You ain’t got to be no stranger”.
Before accepting, I looked into the eyes of each woman for acceptance. Like any group of mammals, females can get VERY territorial and I ain’t crazy. Their body language said it was “cool but under their control” as the older lady put her purse in the seat between me and the guy which meant: “Yeah you can sit here… but don’t get too close to our man… MS. THANG!!!”. The tension eased up when the youngest woman drunkenly stated: “So where you from sweetie?”
Me: “Detroit”
Another Lady: “Oh, which part?”
Sidenote & Me (thinking): “I hate when out-of-towners ask me which part or which city. I hate when people outside the city limits falsely proclaim they live in Detroit. When I say Im from Detroit, dammit I mean it. Yes, there are good, honest, educated, hard-working people who live IN and are FROM Detroit!!”
Me (speaking, calmly): “I’m from the city of Detroit, the eastside actually”.
So we eat and drank and the youngest lady gives me her number and said “Call us on Wednesday… There’s a spot in Richmond called the Martini Kitchen. You’ll like that!!”
Cool.
Monday:
Nothing happened EXCEPT the train kept blazing by hotel window every 20 minutes, the kids next door where having one helluva slumber party, the full-size refrigerator motor kept running, the people above me sounded like they were having a double-dutch competition, and oh, did I mention the TRAIN?!?! Check please! I checked into the closest Hilton. Ahhhhhh!
Tuesday:
So I’m in a class with several, handsome, well-groomed, educated, professional men, each with a pleasant demeanor and manners that most military men exude. In the midst of my admiration of this sea of men, I’m being admired by… one of the women. She’s the woman that the men told me liked women and out of the few women in the class, why me??? The funny part she conducted herself like a school-boy with a crush….asking random questions (“Soooowhat do you again?”), bragging (“Yeah, I ride a motorcycle, I like to crotch down real low and go 100, 110…”) and being extra playful (passing around the sign-in sheet but kept pulling it just out of my reach). So I did what school girls do: ignored her.
Wednesday:
So the week really picked up steam Wednesday night when I drove downtown for the Martini Kitchen. I walked in to a cooled out, relaxed, mature crowd scattered between the bar and the lounge area when I walked in. The band was playing an array if tunes from R&B to Jazz to Pop. I sat down and ordered martini concocted WITH - Remy Martin VSOP -, but of course, lol. I ordered a steak entree that was cooked to perfection!!! It was so good, I think I may have closed my eyes so I could focus on the taste!
My moment of pleasure is interrupted by, GUESS WHAT!!! An OLD ASS MAN!!! He looked like a hat-less Frankie Beverly and Maze (because you always have to say the whole group’s name even if it’s only Frankie Beverly). I didn’t even ask his age. I asked him how old his kids were.
He responds in an old man way: “Well, let’s see here…I have one that’s 26, mm-hmm…One is 24, she just finished college you know….and one that’s almost, uhhh, 28, yeah…he’s 28”.
Me (thinking): Great, here we go again. I’m young enough to have gone to school with your kids and here you are trying to be ‘my friend’. ”
What’s worse was his attire!! Tonight seemed to the popular night and I actually felt underdressed until I started giving him a once over, but I couldn’t make it past the shirt. He on a polyester shirt with a print of a million Chinese symbols that was so cheap looking, that if translated, said probably meant “Made In China” and had the nerve to have dragons randomly overlaying this print. What is this a Yu-Gi-Oh costume??? Are you some type of Anime character with this shirt on?
When I made it to the pants, all I could think was “Excuse me, but are those Bugle Boy Jeans you’re wearing???” Then the shoes…OH…the shoes…do you know what huaraches sandals are? Please google them. Google: Men’s Huarache Sandals. And once you finish, on your mental canvas, paint a picture of Frankie Beverly (mumbling: and Maze), a Yu-Gi-Oh shirt, Bugle Boy Jeans and some damn huaraches!!!!! Google all that if needed so you can understand what I was up against. (DEEPLY EXHALES)
Sooo after he pays for my drink and dinner, LOL (because they always do, I mean, am I wrong? I offered to pay him back but he was so excited to burn his little pension check, he declined.)
Thursday:
So throughout the week, I was showered with “Good Morning Ms. Marilyn”, “How was your evening Ms. Marilyn”, “You look nice today Ms. Marilyn” and even the woman said “I like your hair Ms. Marilyn”. But there’s always one to be bold and brave and he stepped to me during a class break and said ” I’d like to take you to dinner if you’re free tonight”.
Me (thinking): Cool! I must have hit the dinner lottery or something.
So we meet for dinner, both casually dressed. I could tell he was quite the gentleman. He waited for me by the door, though he had already been sat at a table. I could tell he was nervous…so I tried to distract and relax him.
Me: “Hey, you know what, you remind me of an actor but I just can’t think of who…” (It still escapes me but he mentioned one with an even stronger resemblance than who I was trying to recall)
He: “Well, I’ve had some people say I look like Steve-O from Jackass”.
Me: “Yeah you do look like him…just lighter hair”
Me (thinking): How’d I go from a group of prowling cougars on Sunday, a gay crush on Tuesday, Frankie Beverly (and Maze) on Wednesday to Steve-O on Thursday?
“Oh well!”, I thought, as I ate another forkful of food and sipped on my glass of Riesling as I smiled and nodded while Steve-O nervously chatted about absolutley nothing. “I’ve gotten more action in a week than I have almost all month.”
I guess Virginia IS for Lovers!!!
My overall dating experiences have been sprinkled with weirdos, bad boys, good guys, nerds, bums, executives, narrow-minded idiots, the “conscious” type, men in uniform, et cetera, et cetera…. But lately it’s become saturated with older men and old men (and there IS a difference).
I define “older” men that are 10+ years older than myself. Old men, on the other hand are 60 y.o and older.
But in the last few months I’ve met a handful of men that were at least 20 years my senior. There are two in particular that come to mind as I type this 1. My ballroom partner and 2. An old buzzard that was posted at the bar looking for a fine young piece of pu-, ahem, prey.
The first guy is a handsome, fit 62 year old that can put me to shame whenever we go out to dance. His outfits are always coordinated and freshly pressed; he is always well groomed. He has a small frame but a big personality. We talk often by phone, sometimes for hours but I always cut the convo short when he starts to throw romantic hints. One day he said: “I was thinking about you the other night, I wonder what you taste like hmm” I wasn’t sooo grossed out by that; I was grossed out at the thought of 62 year old gray-haired balls swinging from side to side when they made a debut from beneath the old robe that every old man has! I can’t, couldn’t, ain’t!! Not at this stage of my life. Even worse, he would periodically say, “[insert name] needs a little brother”, eluding to me and him having a companion child for my daughter.
Me (thinking): Fool are you crazy!?! I’m not about to be mashing up food for you and the baby!!! Ordering Huggies for him, Depends for you! Imagine me chasing YOU down the block on your hovercraft because you trying to chase the baby on his big wheel. I’m registering him for kindergarten, you for adult day care…
We still hang out to dance. After all he’s a great dancer and a nice, harmless old man. But I think he’s mad with me because I went dancing with someone else. I honestly feel bad too, but he’ll be alright.
The second guy I had a brief encounter with a couple of weeks ago at the bar. He was also 62 but looked 82. He was a dapper looking old man though. Classic. Suited and booted! Hat, suit, tie, wing tipped shoes. Now, had he kept his mouth shut, I would’ve held on to that image.
As I stood in the crowded bar, I eyeballed an empty seat next to him. He signaled for me to sit next to him by pointing at me with two rheumatoid arthritis ridden fingers and then towards the empty bar stool. His hands looked like fallen branches from the forest floor. He repeated this motion several times as I tried to ignore him and look for another seat.
I finally sat down and he says:
“You my new girlfriend”
Me: I thought you were mute…
He: Nawww…. I like you…You my new girlfriend.
By this time, I recognize that this old MF is toooootally wasted.
He: How old are you?
Me (thinking): Here we go…
Me (speaking, slightly agitated): 30 and you?
He: I’m 61 and a half… when I turn 62 we gon’ have some babies… You my new girlfriend…You got 6 months… When I get 62, we gon’ have some babies ….. When i turn (now he’s getting loud) SIXTY TWO WE GON’ HAVE SOME BABIES so they can get my social security… You my new girlfriend…
I sat there in utter disbelief. I sat there with a blank stare. I sat there listening to his old ass tell me I’m his new girlfriend a million times. I sat there thinking:
Yo’ old ass trying to have a legacy baby… Who you think you are, Micheal Douglas? Oh you must be Larry King? Hell the way you talking and acting, you must be James Brown! That’s it! James Brown. I’d have to throw a cape on yo’ ass after you passed out from exhaustion!
So after he bought me a rose and a round of drinks (LOL why not, we WERE at the bar), I told him I already had an old man and that’s all I can handle. He stumbled out and I couldn’t tell if it was due to gout or that last patron shot.
A baby. At 62. HA!
…and you my friend, (purring) make me feel like the First Lady!!!!
WHEW!!
This is an excerpt of my conversation with a man who makes all my senses short circuit at once!!! I’m still trying to gather myself just to type this blog. Not only have I done the Fired Up dance!! No…that wasn’t enough, I performed a dance similiar to this guy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zymn6JmbhWw
Ok.. so.. (fanning my collar)…
Allow me to paint a picture:
I met a young man several years ago at a college pool party. He was a couple years younger than I but he was oh sooo (shifting in my seat), ahem, attractive. Being that we were at a pool party, of course I checked out his physique which was sculpted like a Roman statue (except for the fig leaf which was appropriately replaced by swim trunks). In retrospect, this was actually a GREAT place to meet someone…after all, where else do you have the excuse to not fix your hair, not wear makeup and dress in two pieces of cloth kin to underwear (well any public place anyway)???
So there begins our journey and a journey it has been! I only saw him in the summers and sometimes around the New Year because he attended school out of state and played basketball in international leagues. Each summer was sooo explosive!!! We would hang out until the wee hours and he always made me feel welcome in his home - like I was the woman of the house. We never verbalized our “commitment” to each other, it was only expressed. Over time, I was slowly introduced to his friends and he met mine - the beginning of something more serious. It always reached a peak, then it was time for him to go.
We played this cyclical pattern for many years until one day I told him to stop calling so late. I was sooo caught up in a relationship at that time, I “put him on the shelf”, as he so stated. I knew I had messed up. The silence of his voice, followed by an “OK” said it all. The next day, I called to apologize and tell him I reacted that way because my boyfriend was standing there but he never answered the phone…or my texts…or my emails. He…just…stopped…calling.
I was devastated!!! He was my summer breeze, my sweet rendevous, my everything without EVERYthing…and then he disappeared. No calls, no texts, no emails; I thought of writing a letter but it seemed too desperate. I had to chalk it up as a loss and a great loss no less. BUT HONEY!!!!!! FACEBOOK SAVED MY LIFE!!
I had searched for him before, but one day it dawned on me to search by the nickname is friends called him and VOILA!!!!!! There he was in all his lusciousness and maturity. I melted…literally…no, seriously… I was sitting at my desk and my body starting oozed out of the chair until I slid too far, then I tried to scoot back up but the chair was rolling from under me so I had to turn over on all fours, stand up and sit back down. So, after I got up, I got my nerves together to send a simple message: “Hey Stranger. Hope all is well.” That was January.
I opened my inbox on Thursday and the sight of his picture made me drop my phone. I couldn’t believe it. He responded, WITH A NUMBER!!!!! I was in disbelief for about two days and finally called. It was like old times. I told him that I missed him like every 45 seconds.
So today I called and we made plans to see each other. He said he’d be in town for a while so, as a warning, this blog may become the chronicles of my summer breeze…… Nahhhhh I’ll always have a crazy story. Wait til I give my next installation of the Ice Cream Man…. Yeah he’s still tryingHeee’s Baaaaaaack. The Ice Cream Man. (see blog entitled, “Do You Like Ice Cream?”)
And if the title of this blog rings with a nostalgic tone, it should…with all puns, innuendos and double entendres intended. The Ice Cream Man is old, remember? LOL
And recall if you will, without my response about ice cream, he sent an email the next day asking “If I could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?”
My answer should have been: “As far away for you as possible!”
Instead it read: “Good Morning, The answer to yesterday’s question: yes. Are these questions part of a trivia pack?”
His reply: “Yes, how’d you know? And don’t try to guess ahead”
Me (thinking) “Ha! This is f*cking worst than I thought. First he starts with ice cream, now he’s got a ‘Use these dumba** trivia questions in case of a dating emergency’ pack.”
I didn’t even reply. On one hand I was curious to see the next question, on the other, I thought he’d disappear.
The next day…
Him: “Do you have less than 10 children?”
Me (thinking): “I work where you work. IF I DID HAVE MORE THAN 10, would I be here? If I had less than 10, say maybe 8 or 9, would it make a difference? Hmm, this is a yes or no question which means he must really have a deck of questions and clearly doesn’t have them all (pa duh dum – that’s my punchline drumroll) ”
I furiously typed as if I worked in accounting: “Where are we going with this line of questioning?”
Besides, I didn’t want to be bombarded and interrupted everyday.
He replies with an apology and “enjoy your day”. I flipped my monitor the bird, lol.
Which brings us to today…
Normally I would transcribe the conversation, but I’m still trying to figure out what the hell he saying. I could make out that he got nervous after my last email and he managed to ask me if I’d like to go to dinner some time. But before you ask…Yes he speaks English, no there wasn’t static in the line and no, we weren’t on cell phones in a bad area…
His voice so damn shaky and choppy from still being nervous, it sounded as if he was talking through a cheap box fan, you know that one that’s so cheap you can only turn it on low because if you turn it on high it will wobble and fall over and you know because you’ve done it a few times, each time trying to prop it up with random household objects, but one day it tipped over and the grill cracked and kept hitting the blades so you finally took the grill off so it wouldn’t sound like somebody lit a string of cheap firecrackers..you know the kind in the red paper and you could buy like 10,000 for a dollar…. yeah it sounded like he was talking through THAT fan and maybe he kept hitting his lips on the blades from getting too close on the exposed side.
YES! That’s how shaky and choppy his voice was. I had to press the phone to my ear and squint my eyes just to hear that!
As for the dinner question, I told him: “I don’t date men from work but perhaps a friendly lunch in the cafeteria would be appropriate. “
I hope he doesn’t have a seizure trying to do that.
The word for the day is CONFIDENCE. I chose this word because it is the one element of anyone’s personality that will potentially allow them to get away with something that normally wouldn’t fly.
Case and point: Many moves ago (because I’ll break an apartment lease in a minute), I was on an appointment to view a place suggested by this guy I was seeing. Now he and I had been out on a few occassions but we really weren’t vibin’ due to the fact that he was kinda square and “me, myself, personally” (inside joke) I like guys with an edge. I mean, let’s face it, most ladies do against our better judgement, but in this case, here I am … trying to step out of the box hoping for a connection. WRONG!!!
Within about 10 minutes HE made a move that let me FURTHER know he wasn’t the one. While we are strolling through the complex - might I add a “very obsure, in the back, I’m scared to come in and/or leave at night, who could possibly live here, did I just see a wolf run past me, is the property manager wearing a sleeveless flannel shirt and a pair of suspenders that are so old that the white elastic fibers are gathered at his shoulders while the remaining threads of fabric are hanging on for dear life around a broken button which wouldn’t be so bad except it’s riding in his asscrack like a thong [you know I hate man thongs, right? - refer to the blog entitled “Boxers…Briefs…THONGS?!?!] and, lastly, are those halloween decorations in the neighbors window but it’s June” complex - (remember HE suggested this place and on second thought, THAT would technically make it the FIRST wrong move). So the SECOND wrong move occurs while we’re strolling through the complex. While the property manger is trying to explain the “amenities” of the property including a view of the wildlife (and at this point I’m wondering is he referring to the neighbors or the animals); this guy gives me a slap on the ass. Yep, in the middle of this nature trail of a community, he cuffs his hand, swings his arm like he’s throwing a curveball and slaps me on the ass.
So you think you can make that move, huh?
My head snapped around so quick with the evil eye, I think for a moment my brainstem detached from my spinal cord. He puts his hands up like we’re playing cops and robbers and WHISPERS: “Sorry”. I wrapped up the appointment with an “Um, excuse me but I need to get back to the office” - which let them BOTH know that I’m no longer interested.
The lesson in this story is that MAYBE, just MAYBE, if he had of responded with a look of CONFIDENCE, like “Yeah I did it, so what…” MAYBE I would’ve let him get away with it, it would have given him that “mmm, let me rethink this” edge. I mean, maybe that move would fly, but his lack of confidence, with all good intent, ended our dating streak.
So fellas, if you do something wrong and you’re confronted, this is not the time to second guess yourself. Stick your chest out, give her a firm look in the eye and say “Yeah I did it, so what”, only two things can happen: (1) you can clench your jaws and be prepared to get the sh*t slapped out of you (or another adverse action of a lesser kind) or (2) get ready for her to readjust her train of thought and let it fly.
I have to open up this blog with a LOL, simply because this is one of craziest things that I’ve seen. As part of my “Rant in Remembrance of a Rouge” series, here’s my recollection of yet another episode:
Met this VERY attractive gentlemen a few summers ago. I was out and about when I caught the eye of a guy riding motorcycle - yeah you read that right, lol. blushing He pulls over we chat, exchange numbers… blah blah blah (or blahzay splee, for my Detroit people :p)
So time advances and we find ourselves on one of THOSE dates. The weather was perfect! We had dinner and drinks and took a ride in his ‘vette. Nothing special to some, but it was to me. I love sports cars, especially - singing: con-ver-ti-bles So we drop the top and hit the streets! Ahhh… the streetlights were hypnotically rolling above our heads as we belted out every song on the radio. The weather turned humid and seemed to heighten the buzz of my dinner drink. The night was still young when we decided to pull out his motorcycle. (Good! A helmet! The humidity and wind turned me from Simpson to Ashford!) The weather turned to rain and brought our date to an end.
We went back to his place to regroup and it was time to make a smooth exit but I really didn’t want to, but I really did, but I really didn’t (yes fellas, we go through that after a great date)…. I decided to stay after he “coaxed” me into staying. After all i didnt want to make a 30 minute drive; my clothes were drenched from getting caught in the rain.
Fast forward—-> nothing noteworthy happened but we did end up lying down for the night. He was quite the gentlemen and stayed on his side. I was quite the curious kitten and tried to pull back the covers. I mean…. just to see what I could see (hehehe) Well! Party’s Over! I pull back the sheets to find this man wearing A THONG!!! A BLACK THONG!!! With the strings on the side!!!! Really!! A THONG?!?!?! a thong???
What type of heterosexual man wears a thong…… EXACTLY!!! I’m out. I got up pretending I couldn’t sleep in strange places. Hell after that, I COULDN’T!!!!
Yeah the 30 minute drive in wet clothes was uncomfortable but laying next to a man in a thong would have been worst.
A little bit of Column A; little bit of Column B. Anything is likely to appear.
