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.

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.

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.