that's what he said to me when i cancelled our first date. good thing i did. i kindof had this feeling that he might take me somewhere far away and chop me up to fill his freezer. he just "knew" i would cancel...you don't say. it bothered him so much that he sent me a text first thing in the morning, 6:30 am to be exact- "i bet you're fat anyways." good god, dude. that's the only conclusion you could come up with? i'm fat? yes, if that makes you feel better- i'm fat and didn't want to have to meet you in public. i had to cancel because it's difficult for me to get around with all of this extra weight.
the search for a good date continues.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
PART 2- The Writer
I really don't know where to start with this today, but I have to start. I have to finish this one off. I introduced you to the Writer a while back and gave you a taste of his journalistic skills, his wit, and his lack of charm. He's a smarty- that's for sure. I think this may be what initially got my attention.
I was sitting at my local spot, sipping a cocktail with my girlfriend, Jackie. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two rather tall, good-looking men come in and promptly sit down in the empty seats next to us. Immediately, they joined our conversation as if we had decided to meet then and there to catch up on politics, culture, family, and the rest. I was taken by this man right away. I was very attracted to him- he wasn't bad on the eyes and his passionate conversation was refreshing. They invited us to join them for a game of pool and that's just what we did. The chemistry between us was undeniable. I enjoyed myself and when it was time to leave- exchanging cards seemed natural and relieving. I left, thinking that maybe this meeting people and dating thing wasn't so bad after all. Jackie was sure I had met the man of my dreams...like he was made for me. WHHHOOOOOEY!
Well, long story short...he called me two days later...like any man who follows dating rules should. We chatted briefly and decided to meet again a couple of days later. I'm not sure how to explain the rest...hmmm. The Writer and I saw each other on several more occasions. Each time we were together, the conversations were good and the chemistry was clear. However, there is no doubt that there was something missing. The Writer would call me at times convenient for him ONLY. He would not answer my calls. He would respond to text messages occasionally. Then we would see each other and it would start all over. Great time together then no follow through. He was soo interested when he was interested and then...I guess, out of sight out of mind.
I liked him, no doubt. I was relieved to meet someone that I understood- someone who I could have intelligent conversations with and agree or disagree- it didn't matter- it just made the conversation more exciting. I was relieved to meet someone that was interested in following his passions and was working towards his goals. We had both just come out of very similar dating situations and it was nice to connect with someone who had been there. You know, as I write this, I'm almost annoyed to give him this much credit. The last time I saw him, it was nice. He promised he wouldn't be a stranger and we left it at that.
Almost two months later, after losing my phone and all its numbers, I came across his card. I decided to call him and just say hello. I figured he wouldn't answer, but I wanted to at least leave a message and let him know he had crossed my mind. No biggie. Just a nice hello. He got my message, apparently, and sent me a text..."Hello?" That was it. Huh? No really, HUH? I don't know what in the heck that meant- I'm not sure what I did or didn't do. I had called with sincerity. I really wanted to say "hi", see how he was, see how his family was doing. I pursued this guy more than he pursued me- for sure. By that, I mean, I was interested in getting to know him. I really was interested. Why was he surprised that I was saying hello?
Today, I was bored and decided to take a stroll on match.com. What do you know? The first page of gents to pop up and there he was- looking right at me. I couldn't resist- I had to sign in to view his profile. There it was- his description of what he was looking for in a lady. Just what I would have expected him to say...and if I can say this without sounding arrogant...just what he would have found in me had he tried to. I read on, confused. I, of course, had to call Jackie to let her know of my findings. She sat there as quiet as a mouse. Then she said- "he is looking for you."
Well, I can honestly say that it is his severe loss. However, as I looked more closely at his profile- I saw what I was missing- something that I wouldn't have expected from someone so smart and worldly. Something that had I known, would've turned me off a long time ago...the color of my skin didn't match his criteria. Disappointing. So disappointing that he would be so smart, but so ignorant. I'm still not sure what to think about the whole thing. Apparently, I was good enough to play with, but for a racist, not good enough to stay with.
Sorry, Mr. Writer, if I'm wrong, then speak up- you're never at a loss for words.
I was sitting at my local spot, sipping a cocktail with my girlfriend, Jackie. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two rather tall, good-looking men come in and promptly sit down in the empty seats next to us. Immediately, they joined our conversation as if we had decided to meet then and there to catch up on politics, culture, family, and the rest. I was taken by this man right away. I was very attracted to him- he wasn't bad on the eyes and his passionate conversation was refreshing. They invited us to join them for a game of pool and that's just what we did. The chemistry between us was undeniable. I enjoyed myself and when it was time to leave- exchanging cards seemed natural and relieving. I left, thinking that maybe this meeting people and dating thing wasn't so bad after all. Jackie was sure I had met the man of my dreams...like he was made for me. WHHHOOOOOEY!
Well, long story short...he called me two days later...like any man who follows dating rules should. We chatted briefly and decided to meet again a couple of days later. I'm not sure how to explain the rest...hmmm. The Writer and I saw each other on several more occasions. Each time we were together, the conversations were good and the chemistry was clear. However, there is no doubt that there was something missing. The Writer would call me at times convenient for him ONLY. He would not answer my calls. He would respond to text messages occasionally. Then we would see each other and it would start all over. Great time together then no follow through. He was soo interested when he was interested and then...I guess, out of sight out of mind.
I liked him, no doubt. I was relieved to meet someone that I understood- someone who I could have intelligent conversations with and agree or disagree- it didn't matter- it just made the conversation more exciting. I was relieved to meet someone that was interested in following his passions and was working towards his goals. We had both just come out of very similar dating situations and it was nice to connect with someone who had been there. You know, as I write this, I'm almost annoyed to give him this much credit. The last time I saw him, it was nice. He promised he wouldn't be a stranger and we left it at that.
Almost two months later, after losing my phone and all its numbers, I came across his card. I decided to call him and just say hello. I figured he wouldn't answer, but I wanted to at least leave a message and let him know he had crossed my mind. No biggie. Just a nice hello. He got my message, apparently, and sent me a text..."Hello?" That was it. Huh? No really, HUH? I don't know what in the heck that meant- I'm not sure what I did or didn't do. I had called with sincerity. I really wanted to say "hi", see how he was, see how his family was doing. I pursued this guy more than he pursued me- for sure. By that, I mean, I was interested in getting to know him. I really was interested. Why was he surprised that I was saying hello?
Today, I was bored and decided to take a stroll on match.com. What do you know? The first page of gents to pop up and there he was- looking right at me. I couldn't resist- I had to sign in to view his profile. There it was- his description of what he was looking for in a lady. Just what I would have expected him to say...and if I can say this without sounding arrogant...just what he would have found in me had he tried to. I read on, confused. I, of course, had to call Jackie to let her know of my findings. She sat there as quiet as a mouse. Then she said- "he is looking for you."
Well, I can honestly say that it is his severe loss. However, as I looked more closely at his profile- I saw what I was missing- something that I wouldn't have expected from someone so smart and worldly. Something that had I known, would've turned me off a long time ago...the color of my skin didn't match his criteria. Disappointing. So disappointing that he would be so smart, but so ignorant. I'm still not sure what to think about the whole thing. Apparently, I was good enough to play with, but for a racist, not good enough to stay with.
Sorry, Mr. Writer, if I'm wrong, then speak up- you're never at a loss for words.
Monday, October 6, 2008
a raw truth reminder
There are much easier things in life than finding a good man. Nailing Jell-O to a tree, for instance. ~Author Unknown
conversations at tryst
Carrie: That guy is huge.
Jackie: Is he like 6'6?
Carrie: 6'6 is GIGANTIC. His wallet may not be gigantic...but he is huge. Actually, there's a lot about 6'6 that's not gigantic.
Jackie: Like his generosity...
Carrie: and his creativity...
Jackie: and his resiliency...
Carrie: I could go on about what's NOT gigantic all night.
Jackie: Is he like 6'6?
Carrie: 6'6 is GIGANTIC. His wallet may not be gigantic...but he is huge. Actually, there's a lot about 6'6 that's not gigantic.
Jackie: Like his generosity...
Carrie: and his creativity...
Jackie: and his resiliency...
Carrie: I could go on about what's NOT gigantic all night.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
PART 1: The Writer
Let me introduce you to the writer. I'll be nice here and leave his name out of it. Of course, by doing this, I won't be giving him credit for the article that I'll be referencing. Forgive me. I think, in this situation, I'll protect his reputation. So it begins...
You can’t afford her. Trust me, my man, I know. Yes, I am single. Yes, I like to wine and dine a woman I’m interested in courting. Yes, I make decent money. So I don’t have too much problem with popping the bill for chivalrous activity. But for the upwardly mobile woman (UMW), it may be a hard reality to face: Your pockets may be fat, but they may not be fat enough.
Frustrating, huh? You make decent money and you live a comfortable life. But there’s a difference in making $50,000 and dating someone pulling in, say, $150,000. And brother, if you are on that $50,000 end of the equation — no matter your looks or charm — you’re likely swimming upstream in your efforts to reel in that professional skirt at the other end of the bar. You can marvel at the four-figure balance in your savings account, but she stacks her dough in a lofty, five- and six-figure Roth IRA and has diversified her stock portfolio.
There’s nothing wrong with women making dough. But nowadays, women are earning more money than ever before, which means their mate-vetting process is likely to get a bit more finicky. Why? Because unlike in the olden days, UMWs don’t have to seek a mate for her own survival. (A note here: A recent British study revealed that 59 percent of wives said they would divorce immediately if their future economic security was assured.)
So now that women are earning more, they are dating Average Joes less. According to an analysis of 2005 census data by sociologist Andrew Beveridge, women age 21 to 30 are earning higher wages — between 15 to 25 percent more depending on the city — than men in the same age range in cities like New York, Chicago and Boston.
Many UMWs feel if they earn a lofty salary, they should be with someone who earns an equivalent or higher wage. And no matter what feminist mantra they chirp to you, fella, many UMWs want a man secure enough fiscally to take care of her and maintain her comfortable lifestyle, even though she may not look to surrender her self-reliance (or her own wealth).
In short, man, it’s all about her option. Many UMWs want the option for it all: to keep, not spend, their money on anyone but themselves. Many want a man in control to take care of the bills and make all the decisions. Others reserve the right to claim independence and do whatever they want when it’s convenient.
No one said dating was easy. ~ The Writer
My response.
Better yet, you can’t handle her. It’s not an easy pill to swallow, but really, it may be time. She may not be the submissively, sweet type (to the naked eye). She may not even be the stay-at-home and cook your dinner type (although, she will whip up a dinner to die for any night of the week). She is probably smart, sophisticated, and savvy. She most likely worked twice as hard to make the same wage that you do. She probably put up with unwelcomed advances and the typical male comments that have made her success all the more enjoyable. Now, she wants to meet a man that can take her for who she is- respect her and enjoy her.
You’re right- she doesn’t need you to survive. She can pay her own bills, pump her own gas, buy her own home, and even raise her own kids. What you don’t realize is that she wants you to help her thrive. Success doesn’t negate the need for companionship. Thus, the reason for all of the gorgeous, single, successful women out there, just waiting for a decent date. They aren’t waiting for the Bentley to pull up and the Chanel bag to be their “thank you for dining with me” gift on the front seat. No, just a decent date.
You don’t believe me? Okay, well, for instance…I haven’t been on a decent date yet. I’ve paid for dinner after picking a guy up (45 minutes from my home) because his car got towed. I’ve been told to wear “hoop” earrings when I show up to meet a guy- because that’s what he likes. I’ve been asked, after a week or so, to lend money and then buy groceries for someone. I’ve been swamped with calls and emails because I didn’t kiss a guy after meeting him for 3 minutes. I am not talking about dates just out of high school. I am talking about grown men with educations and careers. Let’s not even talk about the other 50% who are married and think they are still in the game.
So, you say, “It’s all about her option.” Shouldn’t it be? It seems the good men are intimidated now by the lack of need…it’s simply too much pressure on their performance. Don’t worry about the UMW’s lofty salary- it’s not about your paycheck. It’s about your game. Maybe it’s time to step it up. No one said dating was easy.
Stay tuned.
You can’t afford her. Trust me, my man, I know. Yes, I am single. Yes, I like to wine and dine a woman I’m interested in courting. Yes, I make decent money. So I don’t have too much problem with popping the bill for chivalrous activity. But for the upwardly mobile woman (UMW), it may be a hard reality to face: Your pockets may be fat, but they may not be fat enough.
Frustrating, huh? You make decent money and you live a comfortable life. But there’s a difference in making $50,000 and dating someone pulling in, say, $150,000. And brother, if you are on that $50,000 end of the equation — no matter your looks or charm — you’re likely swimming upstream in your efforts to reel in that professional skirt at the other end of the bar. You can marvel at the four-figure balance in your savings account, but she stacks her dough in a lofty, five- and six-figure Roth IRA and has diversified her stock portfolio.
There’s nothing wrong with women making dough. But nowadays, women are earning more money than ever before, which means their mate-vetting process is likely to get a bit more finicky. Why? Because unlike in the olden days, UMWs don’t have to seek a mate for her own survival. (A note here: A recent British study revealed that 59 percent of wives said they would divorce immediately if their future economic security was assured.)
So now that women are earning more, they are dating Average Joes less. According to an analysis of 2005 census data by sociologist Andrew Beveridge, women age 21 to 30 are earning higher wages — between 15 to 25 percent more depending on the city — than men in the same age range in cities like New York, Chicago and Boston.
Many UMWs feel if they earn a lofty salary, they should be with someone who earns an equivalent or higher wage. And no matter what feminist mantra they chirp to you, fella, many UMWs want a man secure enough fiscally to take care of her and maintain her comfortable lifestyle, even though she may not look to surrender her self-reliance (or her own wealth).
In short, man, it’s all about her option. Many UMWs want the option for it all: to keep, not spend, their money on anyone but themselves. Many want a man in control to take care of the bills and make all the decisions. Others reserve the right to claim independence and do whatever they want when it’s convenient.
No one said dating was easy. ~ The Writer
My response.
Better yet, you can’t handle her. It’s not an easy pill to swallow, but really, it may be time. She may not be the submissively, sweet type (to the naked eye). She may not even be the stay-at-home and cook your dinner type (although, she will whip up a dinner to die for any night of the week). She is probably smart, sophisticated, and savvy. She most likely worked twice as hard to make the same wage that you do. She probably put up with unwelcomed advances and the typical male comments that have made her success all the more enjoyable. Now, she wants to meet a man that can take her for who she is- respect her and enjoy her.
You’re right- she doesn’t need you to survive. She can pay her own bills, pump her own gas, buy her own home, and even raise her own kids. What you don’t realize is that she wants you to help her thrive. Success doesn’t negate the need for companionship. Thus, the reason for all of the gorgeous, single, successful women out there, just waiting for a decent date. They aren’t waiting for the Bentley to pull up and the Chanel bag to be their “thank you for dining with me” gift on the front seat. No, just a decent date.
You don’t believe me? Okay, well, for instance…I haven’t been on a decent date yet. I’ve paid for dinner after picking a guy up (45 minutes from my home) because his car got towed. I’ve been told to wear “hoop” earrings when I show up to meet a guy- because that’s what he likes. I’ve been asked, after a week or so, to lend money and then buy groceries for someone. I’ve been swamped with calls and emails because I didn’t kiss a guy after meeting him for 3 minutes. I am not talking about dates just out of high school. I am talking about grown men with educations and careers. Let’s not even talk about the other 50% who are married and think they are still in the game.
So, you say, “It’s all about her option.” Shouldn’t it be? It seems the good men are intimidated now by the lack of need…it’s simply too much pressure on their performance. Don’t worry about the UMW’s lofty salary- it’s not about your paycheck. It’s about your game. Maybe it’s time to step it up. No one said dating was easy.
Stay tuned.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
please tell me it isn't so...
I was just about to give up on this on-line dating thing, when I came across an email from a rather charming young man. He had visited my site on several occasions and had sent a couple of "hello's". Because I was completely exhausted from this game of dating, I brushed past him. On one particular evening, in my desperation, I decided to give it another try. I said "hello" and began the typical match "courting".
He was cute, smart, witty, and with a decent job. He seemed normal enough and we carried on quite a few enticing conversations. After a long, holiday weekend, he sent a sweet email asking about my weekend and fun with friends. He went on to say that he spent the weekend sailing and grilling with friends and family. Enchanting. As I read his invitation to meet, I actually had a little bit of excitement in me at the thought of sharing some adventures with such a charming gent. In the midst of a perfectly normal letter...he said that he had to know...
I was reading the email aloud to my girlfriend at the time. In an exciting tone, with sweetness in my fluctuations...when I came to this line...I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn't even read the next sentence out loud. My jaw was to the ground and I was speechless. Now, let me explain by saying that my friend and I, when discussing men in general, are NEVER speechless. When I couldn't continue with the letter...she seemed as shocked as I.
"DO YOU COME WITH A BOOTY?"
I have read some dumb things. I have heard some crazy lines come from the mouths of these creatures...but this? Really? Do I come with a booty? Well, I don't know. Do you come with any common sense? A mother, perhaps, who taught you any manners? Because clearly...you come with balls....and that's it. At that moment, I questioned why I am even attracted to this species. I mean, really. I love men. I am attracted to men. I want clearly to find a partner in a man...but MEN...please, help me out here. You appear completely normal and then BAM!!! Out of no where, you hit an innocent woman with this...
Please tell me it isn't so.
Friday, August 15, 2008
6'6
Now, this story has been told many times- not by me, but by every woman who hears it and feels like it should be passed on. Let me introduce you to "6'6".
6'6 and I began talking and seemed to hit it off fairly well. He is a teacher and comes from a very nice family. His religious background is similar to mine and it seemed like we may find a few or more things in common. He has a little boy and from what I could tell, seemed to be a good dad. We tried to meet out on several occasions, but for one reason or another, our schedules were clashing. Finally, we made plans to meet for dinner at 9 in G-town.
I was looking forward to our meeting. At about 8:50, while I was on the road nearing the spot for us to meet, I got a call from 6'6. He sounded terrible and told me he had bad news. From the sound of his voice, I thought it might be tragic. However, he explained that he went out to get into his car and it was gone. Apparently, he forgot to put his parking pass in a visible place and he was towed from his own driveway. He sounded like he just lost his best friend. He was going to try to figure out where his truck was and then give me a call. I politely told him that if he needed anything, to let me know. He agreed and said he would call me right back.
Here I was, almost in G-town on a Saturday night- now, all dressed up and no place to go. I wasn't sure if I should turn around or find a place to enjoy my evening. These moments, ladies, are when we are faced with the decisions that can either provide us with an ordinary evening or one to remember. I chose the latter.
6'6 called and said that his truck was a little bit from his place and if he wanted it back before Monday, he would have to go pick it up that evening. He "really didn't want to have me help him", but he decided to take me up on my original offer. He told me that he was only about 15 minutes from where I was and he would stay on the phone giving me directions to his place.
For a few seconds, I thought that I should ditch the guy and just go home. But, I'm a sucker and he sounded so distraught and disappointed that his night had gone so wrong. I called the girls and let them know where I was going- just to be sure they'd look for me if I went missing. And so, there I went...
45 minutes later, I arrived to his place. We said hello- he is as cute as can be- very handsome and as his name indicates, very tall. He hopped in and we headed to get his truck. 45 minutes later...he's ready to take me for dinner- or so he says. If you are following the timeline, you can see that by now, it is far past dinner time- it's after 11pm. At 11:40- we pull up to AppleBee's. Here I am, extra cute, ready for a fun date in G-town- you know, maybe for a nice, little trendy lounge or a sleek dinner spot. Obviously, as the night progressed, I assumed this was out of the question. However, as we walked into his favorite watering hole, it was clear that I was in for a treat.
The bartender/server/busboy and the hostess were really the only ones there, so our arrival sparked lots of fun conversations that made it like a small family reunion. We ordered dinner, since the kitchen was closing, and sipped on our iced teas. I enjoyed my grilled chicken and most of the conversation- with said hostess and bartender/server/busboy. 6'6 was like a king on his throne- thrilled that I was so comfortable with strangers and that my answers to his many questions were acceptable, I suppose. I was "cool"- really "cool". I agreed- not because I think I'm so hip, but because it was the middle of winter, the middle of the night, and the middle of a huge electric bill that apparently couldn't be paid at this particular AppleBee's.
Our friendly staff cleared the table and delivered the bill. We sat and chatted a bit more. Maybe 10 minutes later, the bartender/server/busboy came to retrieve the bill. We weren't ready. He left and for some reason, 6'6 didn't even budge. I gave him an extra second before I pulled out my card. You see, I am all for splitting the bill, etc., however, I usually like to wait until he makes the first move and then, offer my assistance. Well, the bartender/server/busboy came back, picked up the check and my card, asked if he should take it and then....bum, bum, bu-bum...6'6 pulls out his card- gives it to the guy and says, "Just split it".
I could tell you about the rest of the evening- the fact that he drove me around trying to find a place for a drink and just couldn't find anything, or that he hugged me when we left and my 5'2 stature made it a tad bit inappropriate for a first date, but this is all so irrelevant. "Just split it" he said. Obviously, since he did not even attempt to pay in a timely manner, I was prepared to pay for it in full. And again, I am not at all one to say that a man should always pay. Equal rights- I'm all for it. HOWEVER, he invited me out for dinner. Because of his misfortune, I drove all the way out to SOUTHERN VA, to find this man. THEN I drove ALL THE WAY to who the heck knows where to find his truck. THEN we drove ALL THE WAY to the country version of AppleBee's for a $10 chicken meal. I think I paid more for squirt of perfume I used just to meet him. I hopped in my car to leave and could NOT BELIEVE that this guy did not even OFFER to buy my chicken. I think I set myself up for this! Who agrees to help a guy out like that? I mean, we didn't even know each other. I agreed to be a good samaritan and apparently set the standard just a tad bit too low.
6'6 called for a second date. He said it would be under better circumstances. I wasn't sure if that meant he'd pay for AppleBee's or he'd find a place where the kitchen wasn't closed. Who knows. All I know is that once again, I gave my kindest, most gracious, refusal and mailed him a bill for $27.80...gas and my chicken dinner.
6'6 and I began talking and seemed to hit it off fairly well. He is a teacher and comes from a very nice family. His religious background is similar to mine and it seemed like we may find a few or more things in common. He has a little boy and from what I could tell, seemed to be a good dad. We tried to meet out on several occasions, but for one reason or another, our schedules were clashing. Finally, we made plans to meet for dinner at 9 in G-town.
I was looking forward to our meeting. At about 8:50, while I was on the road nearing the spot for us to meet, I got a call from 6'6. He sounded terrible and told me he had bad news. From the sound of his voice, I thought it might be tragic. However, he explained that he went out to get into his car and it was gone. Apparently, he forgot to put his parking pass in a visible place and he was towed from his own driveway. He sounded like he just lost his best friend. He was going to try to figure out where his truck was and then give me a call. I politely told him that if he needed anything, to let me know. He agreed and said he would call me right back.
Here I was, almost in G-town on a Saturday night- now, all dressed up and no place to go. I wasn't sure if I should turn around or find a place to enjoy my evening. These moments, ladies, are when we are faced with the decisions that can either provide us with an ordinary evening or one to remember. I chose the latter.
6'6 called and said that his truck was a little bit from his place and if he wanted it back before Monday, he would have to go pick it up that evening. He "really didn't want to have me help him", but he decided to take me up on my original offer. He told me that he was only about 15 minutes from where I was and he would stay on the phone giving me directions to his place.
For a few seconds, I thought that I should ditch the guy and just go home. But, I'm a sucker and he sounded so distraught and disappointed that his night had gone so wrong. I called the girls and let them know where I was going- just to be sure they'd look for me if I went missing. And so, there I went...
45 minutes later, I arrived to his place. We said hello- he is as cute as can be- very handsome and as his name indicates, very tall. He hopped in and we headed to get his truck. 45 minutes later...he's ready to take me for dinner- or so he says. If you are following the timeline, you can see that by now, it is far past dinner time- it's after 11pm. At 11:40- we pull up to AppleBee's. Here I am, extra cute, ready for a fun date in G-town- you know, maybe for a nice, little trendy lounge or a sleek dinner spot. Obviously, as the night progressed, I assumed this was out of the question. However, as we walked into his favorite watering hole, it was clear that I was in for a treat.
The bartender/server/busboy and the hostess were really the only ones there, so our arrival sparked lots of fun conversations that made it like a small family reunion. We ordered dinner, since the kitchen was closing, and sipped on our iced teas. I enjoyed my grilled chicken and most of the conversation- with said hostess and bartender/server/busboy. 6'6 was like a king on his throne- thrilled that I was so comfortable with strangers and that my answers to his many questions were acceptable, I suppose. I was "cool"- really "cool". I agreed- not because I think I'm so hip, but because it was the middle of winter, the middle of the night, and the middle of a huge electric bill that apparently couldn't be paid at this particular AppleBee's.
Our friendly staff cleared the table and delivered the bill. We sat and chatted a bit more. Maybe 10 minutes later, the bartender/server/busboy came to retrieve the bill. We weren't ready. He left and for some reason, 6'6 didn't even budge. I gave him an extra second before I pulled out my card. You see, I am all for splitting the bill, etc., however, I usually like to wait until he makes the first move and then, offer my assistance. Well, the bartender/server/busboy came back, picked up the check and my card, asked if he should take it and then....bum, bum, bu-bum...6'6 pulls out his card- gives it to the guy and says, "Just split it".
I could tell you about the rest of the evening- the fact that he drove me around trying to find a place for a drink and just couldn't find anything, or that he hugged me when we left and my 5'2 stature made it a tad bit inappropriate for a first date, but this is all so irrelevant. "Just split it" he said. Obviously, since he did not even attempt to pay in a timely manner, I was prepared to pay for it in full. And again, I am not at all one to say that a man should always pay. Equal rights- I'm all for it. HOWEVER, he invited me out for dinner. Because of his misfortune, I drove all the way out to SOUTHERN VA, to find this man. THEN I drove ALL THE WAY to who the heck knows where to find his truck. THEN we drove ALL THE WAY to the country version of AppleBee's for a $10 chicken meal. I think I paid more for squirt of perfume I used just to meet him. I hopped in my car to leave and could NOT BELIEVE that this guy did not even OFFER to buy my chicken. I think I set myself up for this! Who agrees to help a guy out like that? I mean, we didn't even know each other. I agreed to be a good samaritan and apparently set the standard just a tad bit too low.
6'6 called for a second date. He said it would be under better circumstances. I wasn't sure if that meant he'd pay for AppleBee's or he'd find a place where the kitchen wasn't closed. Who knows. All I know is that once again, I gave my kindest, most gracious, refusal and mailed him a bill for $27.80...gas and my chicken dinner.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
hoops
In an effort to provide some privacy to these fabulous men, I will not use their names (unless absolutely necessary). I will do what we ladies do in conversation and rename them with what they remind me of most. To begin, here's a shout out to "Hoops".
This was my first random meeting- we chatted initially through email and decided we would meet at Starbucks for coffee. Because I live in a fairly urban area, with several Starbucks within walking distance, I was certain to clarify where we would be meeting. After several confirmations, we decided to meet on Wisconsin Ave, at the Starbucks near the theater. He explained to me how close it was and although, I didn't agree completely, I assumed we were on the same page. He insisted that we were.
The night before, he texted me to confirm and wanted me to know that "he really likes girls who wear hoop earrings...hint, hint, hint." Pause. Breathe. For some, this may not even phase you; however, as laid back as I am, this rubbed me the WRONG WAY! I could not believe that this man was telling me to wear hoops to meet him- because he likes them! Now, don't get me wrong, I love me some hoops. I wear them regularly even....however, I DO NOT wear them because someone tells me to. I know, call me stubborn. So, against my better judgment and with the coersion of my sister and friends, I still decided to meet this man.
Starbucks. I'm a bit nervous and annoyed. It's 1:10 (we were supposed to meet at 1:00) and I decided that I had waited long enough for Hoops (of course, I was not wearing his favorite earrings). I grabbed my coffee, my bag, and headed out the door. A couple of minutes later, I receive a scathing text saying "Real nice, Carrie". Huh? He continued to text me saying that I was extremely rude to stand him up, etc., etc., etc. Then he called. I answered. He, in a raised voice, reiterated his anger about me not meeting him. Long story short...he was at the wrong Starbucks. Just as I figured- any man who tells a woman what to wear for their first meeting- cannot be trusted. Needless to say, his quick temper over the misunderstanding assured me that my instinct was correct...DO NOT MEET THIS MAN!
A couple of weeks ago and five months after my near collision with Hoops, one of the admins at my job said that someone had stopped by on Sunday and asked about me. Wanted to know if I had a boyfriend and said that he had met me at "Tommy Joes"- impossible, since I've never been. I was slightly concerned, but let it go. The next evening, I was told that there was someone at the front to see me- the inquiring man from the day before. I walked up confidently, ready to do business, introduced myself and received this return introduction..."Hi, Carrie. I'm "Hoops"- I don't know if you remember me." (Are you kidding me? Ladies, back me up here. Can you believe that this man came to my job?) It gets better. I assured him that, yes, I remembered him and then he asked me out. Good lord. I kindly gave him my most gracious refusal and offered him a drink at the bar. He declined and left.
So, I wonder, what was he thinking? He told me what to wear, he yelled at me before meeting me, he shows up at my job- stalking me, and then finds the nerve to ask me out. Oh, Hoops. Work on another game plan, my friend, because I'm nice. Next time you try that on a lady, you might get an earful or more.
This was my first random meeting- we chatted initially through email and decided we would meet at Starbucks for coffee. Because I live in a fairly urban area, with several Starbucks within walking distance, I was certain to clarify where we would be meeting. After several confirmations, we decided to meet on Wisconsin Ave, at the Starbucks near the theater. He explained to me how close it was and although, I didn't agree completely, I assumed we were on the same page. He insisted that we were.
The night before, he texted me to confirm and wanted me to know that "he really likes girls who wear hoop earrings...hint, hint, hint." Pause. Breathe. For some, this may not even phase you; however, as laid back as I am, this rubbed me the WRONG WAY! I could not believe that this man was telling me to wear hoops to meet him- because he likes them! Now, don't get me wrong, I love me some hoops. I wear them regularly even....however, I DO NOT wear them because someone tells me to. I know, call me stubborn. So, against my better judgment and with the coersion of my sister and friends, I still decided to meet this man.
Starbucks. I'm a bit nervous and annoyed. It's 1:10 (we were supposed to meet at 1:00) and I decided that I had waited long enough for Hoops (of course, I was not wearing his favorite earrings). I grabbed my coffee, my bag, and headed out the door. A couple of minutes later, I receive a scathing text saying "Real nice, Carrie". Huh? He continued to text me saying that I was extremely rude to stand him up, etc., etc., etc. Then he called. I answered. He, in a raised voice, reiterated his anger about me not meeting him. Long story short...he was at the wrong Starbucks. Just as I figured- any man who tells a woman what to wear for their first meeting- cannot be trusted. Needless to say, his quick temper over the misunderstanding assured me that my instinct was correct...DO NOT MEET THIS MAN!
A couple of weeks ago and five months after my near collision with Hoops, one of the admins at my job said that someone had stopped by on Sunday and asked about me. Wanted to know if I had a boyfriend and said that he had met me at "Tommy Joes"- impossible, since I've never been. I was slightly concerned, but let it go. The next evening, I was told that there was someone at the front to see me- the inquiring man from the day before. I walked up confidently, ready to do business, introduced myself and received this return introduction..."Hi, Carrie. I'm "Hoops"- I don't know if you remember me." (Are you kidding me? Ladies, back me up here. Can you believe that this man came to my job?) It gets better. I assured him that, yes, I remembered him and then he asked me out. Good lord. I kindly gave him my most gracious refusal and offered him a drink at the bar. He declined and left.
So, I wonder, what was he thinking? He told me what to wear, he yelled at me before meeting me, he shows up at my job- stalking me, and then finds the nerve to ask me out. Oh, Hoops. Work on another game plan, my friend, because I'm nice. Next time you try that on a lady, you might get an earful or more.
these must be told
I keep saying I need to write a book- and I intend to. However, in the meantime, I have some stories that can't be kept to myself. I mean, these experiences have to be shared...so you can laugh, shake your head in amazement, hate men, love men...whatever the reaction- trust me, you'll have one. So, this is for fun. This is for the men that I love and the men that I love to hate. This is for my girls and all the belly-aching laughs we have had at my expense. These stories have to be told and let me tell you...You can't make this shit up. Enjoy.
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