This post was a special request. (Y'all can make those. p.s.) "hey timmy. i want you to write a post about a time you went on a date with a girl."
ewwwwwwww vaginas!!!! i heard some have teeth. gross me out!
Sometimes I used to be straight in high school.
Names have been changed to protect the female population.
Name of Date: Border Patrol (hey. every girl has to do her duty.)
Date #: 55? I dunno. She was my hs sweetheart. The Pacey to my Joey. The Ross to my Rachel. The Justin to my Kelly. (omgz we totes saw that movie too.)
Looks Like: The eldest duggar daughter.
Occupation: Being my girlfriend. duhhhh. she's a nurse now though. (dowwwwngrade)
Where We Met: Where any cofused closeted kid meets his naive and oblivious beard: drama class.
What Happened: Ok so this particular date that I'm going to re-tell for your reading pleasure took place the night of my senior prom. A story many of you have heard before, but it bears re-telling. Travel back with me won't you? To a more innocent time. Destiny's Child had not yet broken up. Ladies weren't yet wearing huge belts. My penis had not yet been touched by any other person.
The theme for prom was "A Night Among the Stars" or some other dippy thing like that. We were to have a red carpet. Oooooo. Thats a way to interest 17 year old narcissists; build an ego-centric evening around fake fame. I ate that shit up.
Border Patrol had been my steady for about 2 months so it was expected that we would attend together. I was so excited to go dress shopping with her. Let me repeat. I WAS SO EXCITED TO GO DRESS SHOPPING WITH HER. Bless her heart. We decided on a simple red dress which I would accent with a red vest underneath my two-button slimming, shoulder-widening tux. I knew I was going to be photgraphed that night.
Also. And much much much more importantly... I was on prom court. For some unknown reason the popularity gods smiled upon a young homo in training and allowed his name to appear on the ballot for the sought after position of "Prom King." I would rule fairly, I decided. Only execute the deserving and uphold the belief that all people were created equal... if not pretty.
I had done my best to campaign and made it excruciatingly clear to everyone that this ultimately unimportant (and admitedly 'gay') position was the one thing I desired more than anything else. Wearing a plastic crown and dancing a spotlight dance? My 18 year old heart burst with teen movie seuqences where this symbolic event would forever change my life and leave me with memories to last a lifetime. Cue "Only Time" by Enya.
So BP and I arrive at prom and she is looking lovely. I'm very happy that we are a hot couple. I mean looking hot at prom is kind of your only option. Why you wanna show up to the only interesting even in high school lookin' like a broke down ho? Thats right. You don't. I've seen some nasty-ass prom pictures. I wanted my prom pictures to last a lifetime. I was sure BP and I would be showing our kids.
Ew. sidenote. she wanted to name our son Blaine. ew. it would be condemning him to virginity forever.
"Nothing ever happens in Blaine"
So we cut a rug, get our pic taken, do all the normal prom things. The obligatory scream and hug when our friends enter. Let me repeat. The obligatory SCREAM (read squeal) and HUG when our friends entered.
Thank goodness Lady Gaga didn't exist at this point because if poker face had started playing any and all attemps at maintianing heterosezzuality would have been for naught. The gay gene would have taken over and I'd have been grinding with my shirt off and begging for glow sticks.
Then the big event came. No not me plunging into her murky depths. God no. As Margaret Cho likes to say... "Girl, I'm allergic."
No. It was time for them to announce who Prom King and Queen were. I was as nervous as any contestant on any reality tv show when it gets down to the final three. In my mind Tyra Banks stood before me only holding one headshot and glared fiercely. I became worried that I might trip at the finish line. Maybe I lost my neck. MAYBE MY SMIZE WERE NOT SMIZE-Y ENOUGH!!!!
Unfortunately, like all shakesperean tragedies... I was not crowned prom king. I bravely hid my tears in BP's shoulder while she tried her best to comfort me. The teacher in charge of prom called me over and attempted to make me feel better. She insisted "It was very close! You only lost by one vote!"
One vote. One lousy piece of paper between me and eternal glory. My name forever down as PROM KING SWGHS 20--. If only one more person had chosen to choose me my future would have been forever altered.
We left shortly after. Driving to the bowling alley to meet our friends for our post prom activity. There was no hotel in our future because we were good Christian kids waiting til marriage and I secretly had no desire to touch her boobs. I justified this in my mind and my supreme will power over (non-existant) sexual desires.
On the way to bowl the night away she could see the deep sadness and loss in my face. I smiled and told her that it didn't matter as long as she was mine. She looked at me longingly and with tears in her eyes whispered... "I love you." It was the first time she had ever said that to me and I believed her whole-heartedly and it was one of the most special moments of my life. She made the evening magical and meaningful. And I loved her too.
After makeouts and warm fuzzies I told her what the teacher said about me only losing by one vote and how silly that was. Her face fell. She spoke quickly and like a child who had broken a ming vase. " I wasn't going to say anything... but I forgot to vote."
BP giveth and BP taketh away. I tried hard not to be mad, but clearly the resentment lives on to this day.
Gained Points for: Being beautiful
Lost Points for: do I even have to say?
Mistakes I Made: treating prom king like it actually mattered... oh and dating a girl.
Chances for Another Date: well at the time she was my gf and I had 5 more months of being with her before I came to my gay senses.
Overall Grade: C
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Odd
Sometimes I go on fucked up dates. Actually. Most of the time.
Names have been changed to protect the I can't make this stuff up.
Name of Date: Are You Kidding Me?
Date #: 1
Looks Like: J. Robert Spencer... kinda.
Age: 31
Occupation: Poet... for real-real. not for play-play.
Where We Met: Craigslist. Ok. OK! I'm a trashy ho. Get it out.
What Happened: So i met this dude on the CL. I was bored and lonely and placed an ad. NO! There was no picture of me naked attached and NO! I didn't suggest sex. I just wanted to meet a cool person and have a nice evening. He responded to my ad and didn't look like he was funna rape me... so I agreed to meet him.
We used my old standby... the meet for coffee. He lived about 30 minutes south of me so he suggested a place near him. I feel thats kinda lazy but I made the drive anyway because I'm desperate and pathetic.
I got there early because that is my MO. I gotta scope out the place make sure I find the best lighting and plan escape routes for if the date goes horribly wrong. So I'm sitting outside when this SUV is driving past and slows down. I wonder if its him, but two Laguna Beach bitches (OMGZ I kind of lovez Kristen) roll down the windows and whistle at me. Apparatenly I look not only hot but straight as well. Kudos, me. That or the gay gods were playing a cruel trick on these ladies. They roll on by and I wave goodbye to the symbolism of something that (in retrospect) would have made more sense that evening.
So AYKM shows up and is actually as cute as his picture. Thank goondess. There is little way to hide that disappointment. "Oh... so the tan gorgeous guy in the picture was just some random thing you put up to lure other tan gorgeous guys in?" "Did you just call me shallow?" "More importantly... am I pretty?"
Our conversation is rather pleasant. He tells me he is a poet and I find that super fascinating. We talk about my job and the usual get to know you type shit. After we sip our coffee, (Well... actually I got lemonade and he got green tea. Does that still count as a coffee date?) he suggests we go back to his place to hang out.
Bow chicka bow bow. his place. hang out. with out cocks out? who knows. Timmy might be getting a little heygirlhey. I'm diggin that idea so I ask if I should follow him. He says "Oh well. I don't have a car. My roommate dropped me off here. Could you drive us back?"
I took this to be a totally plausible and legit request. Oh poor innocent naive me. I should have run away.
On the drive back to his place he makes the confession that its not that he doesn't have a car. Its that he doesn't have a lisence. He has a fear of driving, actually. The reason he has a fear of driving? He's kind of maybe a little bit autisic?
I handle this information surprisingly well. I mean who am I to judge his fear....
Ok. I almost got through typing that without laughing. Of COURSE I am going to judge him. Its what I do. Its why y'all read this. And why y'all love me.
I mean not for his autism. Thats just mean.
And I'm not mean...
Ok. Again I almost go through typing that without laughing. I'm so Regina George.
Anyway. We get back to his place and I immediately can tell something is off. His roommate is home, who he introduces me to. He is a very nice and attractive guy. While he is giving me the tour of the place he shows me the bedroom. yes. THE bedroom. One bed. Gay Kama Sutra books on the shelf. And it alllll made sense why his "roommate" owns and drives the car.
So the "roommate" heads into the computer room and says he will turn on the music to give us our privacy. Apparently this dude is all aok with his man gettin cozy with this hottie. (Imagine me pointing to myself) Almost immediately I say "so... whats up with that?"
He confesses that they are indeed "together" but they have an "understanding." He goes into this long speech about they care deeply for each other but aren't compatible sexually or some bullshit like that. I nod like and idiot trying to take this whole situation. Then we start making out.
I was stunned and in shock. The autistic poet fear of driving open relationship guy made a move and I was defenseless! I mean he was a good kisser. But his bf was totes in the next room listening to techno music. Again. I am a trashy ho.
The evening ended. I will let you make your own assuptions. (see above) He walked me to the door and introduced me to the spider that lives on their porch. Which was the least werid event of the evening. And I drove home and immediately slapped myself. I am never going on CL again.
Gained Pointes for: Honesty
Lost Points for: Delayed honesty.
Mistakes I Made: Letting the evening progress past panera.
Chances for Another Date: I mean... If his bf is ok with it? NO! No I will not be that guy.
Overall Grade: D
Names have been changed to protect the I can't make this stuff up.
Name of Date: Are You Kidding Me?
Date #: 1
Looks Like: J. Robert Spencer... kinda.
Age: 31
Occupation: Poet... for real-real. not for play-play.
Where We Met: Craigslist. Ok. OK! I'm a trashy ho. Get it out.
What Happened: So i met this dude on the CL. I was bored and lonely and placed an ad. NO! There was no picture of me naked attached and NO! I didn't suggest sex. I just wanted to meet a cool person and have a nice evening. He responded to my ad and didn't look like he was funna rape me... so I agreed to meet him.
We used my old standby... the meet for coffee. He lived about 30 minutes south of me so he suggested a place near him. I feel thats kinda lazy but I made the drive anyway because I'm desperate and pathetic.
I got there early because that is my MO. I gotta scope out the place make sure I find the best lighting and plan escape routes for if the date goes horribly wrong. So I'm sitting outside when this SUV is driving past and slows down. I wonder if its him, but two Laguna Beach bitches (OMGZ I kind of lovez Kristen) roll down the windows and whistle at me. Apparatenly I look not only hot but straight as well. Kudos, me. That or the gay gods were playing a cruel trick on these ladies. They roll on by and I wave goodbye to the symbolism of something that (in retrospect) would have made more sense that evening.
So AYKM shows up and is actually as cute as his picture. Thank goondess. There is little way to hide that disappointment. "Oh... so the tan gorgeous guy in the picture was just some random thing you put up to lure other tan gorgeous guys in?" "Did you just call me shallow?" "More importantly... am I pretty?"
Our conversation is rather pleasant. He tells me he is a poet and I find that super fascinating. We talk about my job and the usual get to know you type shit. After we sip our coffee, (Well... actually I got lemonade and he got green tea. Does that still count as a coffee date?) he suggests we go back to his place to hang out.
Bow chicka bow bow. his place. hang out. with out cocks out? who knows. Timmy might be getting a little heygirlhey. I'm diggin that idea so I ask if I should follow him. He says "Oh well. I don't have a car. My roommate dropped me off here. Could you drive us back?"
I took this to be a totally plausible and legit request. Oh poor innocent naive me. I should have run away.
On the drive back to his place he makes the confession that its not that he doesn't have a car. Its that he doesn't have a lisence. He has a fear of driving, actually. The reason he has a fear of driving? He's kind of maybe a little bit autisic?
I handle this information surprisingly well. I mean who am I to judge his fear....
Ok. I almost got through typing that without laughing. Of COURSE I am going to judge him. Its what I do. Its why y'all read this. And why y'all love me.
I mean not for his autism. Thats just mean.
And I'm not mean...
Ok. Again I almost go through typing that without laughing. I'm so Regina George.
Anyway. We get back to his place and I immediately can tell something is off. His roommate is home, who he introduces me to. He is a very nice and attractive guy. While he is giving me the tour of the place he shows me the bedroom. yes. THE bedroom. One bed. Gay Kama Sutra books on the shelf. And it alllll made sense why his "roommate" owns and drives the car.
So the "roommate" heads into the computer room and says he will turn on the music to give us our privacy. Apparently this dude is all aok with his man gettin cozy with this hottie. (Imagine me pointing to myself) Almost immediately I say "so... whats up with that?"
He confesses that they are indeed "together" but they have an "understanding." He goes into this long speech about they care deeply for each other but aren't compatible sexually or some bullshit like that. I nod like and idiot trying to take this whole situation. Then we start making out.
I was stunned and in shock. The autistic poet fear of driving open relationship guy made a move and I was defenseless! I mean he was a good kisser. But his bf was totes in the next room listening to techno music. Again. I am a trashy ho.
The evening ended. I will let you make your own assuptions. (see above) He walked me to the door and introduced me to the spider that lives on their porch. Which was the least werid event of the evening. And I drove home and immediately slapped myself. I am never going on CL again.
Gained Pointes for: Honesty
Lost Points for: Delayed honesty.
Mistakes I Made: Letting the evening progress past panera.
Chances for Another Date: I mean... If his bf is ok with it? NO! No I will not be that guy.
Overall Grade: D
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Dawson's Creek S07E706
Sometimes my life is like a tv show
Names have been changed to protect the guy who made me CRY
Name of Date: High Hopes
Date #: 1
Looks Like: A cute supporting character on a mid-ninties WB teen drama.
Age: 24
Occupation: Youth Director/(Accom)Pianist
Where We Met: He was playing the piano for a round of auditions that I happened to be attending. We met. Chatted. Flirted. And I facebook stalked the second that I got home.
What Happened: So after nearly a month of e-mailing, facebooking and aim flirting we finally found a time to make this date happen. I was so excited because I thought he was pretty much perfect for me. He made me laugh, he was super cute, and I didn't meet him online or sleep with him within 72 hours of our introduction. Things were looking pretty good. SO good, in fact, that I'd already planned out how our relationship was going to work.
You see, he lived 2 hours from me. I would use one of my days off every other week to go visit him and vice versa. We'd get to spend one day (and night) together a week and it'd be perfect. Then we'd probably move to MA and get married and watch a lot of tv on DVD.
Anyway, I was flying back from a vacation and we worked it out so that he could pick me up from the airport and then we'd go to dinner and a movie. I think that picking someone up from the airport is about the most romantic thing ever. I envisoned that he'd be there with flowers and give me a huge hug and kiss and then say something like "Even though that was our first kiss, it feels like our lips were always waiting for each other." And then I would kiss him harder and then he'd get down on one knee and propose with a GORGEOUS silver band and I would cry and the airport would applaud and then Celine Dion who was chillin at the starbucks starts singing "My Heart Will Go On.".... HEY IT COULD HAPPEN! ROMANTIC COMEDIES ARE BASED AROUND MOMENTS LIKE THIS.
Spoiler alerts. None of those things happened. He drove up to arrival pick-up and I got into his car.
We had a nice conversation about his trip while we drove to get food. He is really such a sweet guy. He knows how to keep a conversation going and now to avoid awkward topics. There is nothing worse than some trashy ass-face being all. "So.... are you a top or a bottom?" When someone asks me that I try to respond with something like "oh. i'm a side." and then quickly change the topic of conversation leaving them confused about what I like in bed.
So yes he did not ask any ridiculous questions. we went to fudruckers. which i do not enjoy, but he seemed pretty stoked about so who was i to say anything? I payed and he seemed genuinely impressed by that gesture. Bitches like it when you make it rain.
Food was nice. TIME FOR THE MOVIE.
Sandra Bullock's latest movie and I'm excited. I like her. Again I pay. I'm a hustla baby. I just want you to know.
So during the movie I casually put my hand on his knee and begin to rub affectionately. He keeps his arms firmly crossed over his chest for the next few minutes. I fully understand social cues, so I get the hint that its time to keep my paws to myself. I remove my hand and he immediately announces in full voice.
"No. Put it back."
then PLACES my hand back on his knee and links arms with me and begins to cuddle.
um what?! I love me a forceful man. if you put my hands anywhere on your body i'm pretty much in favor of that. unless its your feet. keep that fetish to yourself. ew or your moobs. not a fan.
so i feel pretty good about this, except that this situation is entirely weird. I've been flirty and amazing all evening but this is the one gesture (literally) of affection that he's shown me the whole time. oh well. i'm banking on the fact that this his was of saying "i'm in love with you and want to marry you how about green and khaki for the wedding colors?"
The movie ends and he drives me home. The conversation finally gets awkward because we know what is supposed to happen at the end of a date. Luckily I have a speech prepared. When he pulls up to my place I begin with "So i've had an amazing time with you and I know we live 2 hours away from each other, but..."
He interrupts
"but yeah. if our paths ever cross again, lets hang out."
that was not my "but." MY "but was...
"but I really like you and I'm willing to do anything to make this work."
All i could do was nod. smile and hug him as I got out of the car trying not to cry. I mean I really really liked him and he writes me off with a "maybe we can hang out?" I am not successful with keeping out the tears and he notices, so I run inside.
3 minutes later he calls me to let me know "its not me" I cry even harder. I hate cliche lines. and i hate them more when people actually mean them. thanks, high hopes, now i gotta listen to dashboard confessional to cry it all out.
Gained Points For: Deliberate hand-holding
Lost Points For: Making me cry
Mistakes I Made: Pre-determining him to be "the one"
Chances for Another Date: I am a sucker for guys who hurt me, so if he calls, its an unequivocal yes.
Overall Grade: C -
Names have been changed to protect the guy who made me CRY
Name of Date: High Hopes
Date #: 1
Looks Like: A cute supporting character on a mid-ninties WB teen drama.
Age: 24
Occupation: Youth Director/(Accom)Pianist
Where We Met: He was playing the piano for a round of auditions that I happened to be attending. We met. Chatted. Flirted. And I facebook stalked the second that I got home.
What Happened: So after nearly a month of e-mailing, facebooking and aim flirting we finally found a time to make this date happen. I was so excited because I thought he was pretty much perfect for me. He made me laugh, he was super cute, and I didn't meet him online or sleep with him within 72 hours of our introduction. Things were looking pretty good. SO good, in fact, that I'd already planned out how our relationship was going to work.
You see, he lived 2 hours from me. I would use one of my days off every other week to go visit him and vice versa. We'd get to spend one day (and night) together a week and it'd be perfect. Then we'd probably move to MA and get married and watch a lot of tv on DVD.
Anyway, I was flying back from a vacation and we worked it out so that he could pick me up from the airport and then we'd go to dinner and a movie. I think that picking someone up from the airport is about the most romantic thing ever. I envisoned that he'd be there with flowers and give me a huge hug and kiss and then say something like "Even though that was our first kiss, it feels like our lips were always waiting for each other." And then I would kiss him harder and then he'd get down on one knee and propose with a GORGEOUS silver band and I would cry and the airport would applaud and then Celine Dion who was chillin at the starbucks starts singing "My Heart Will Go On.".... HEY IT COULD HAPPEN! ROMANTIC COMEDIES ARE BASED AROUND MOMENTS LIKE THIS.
Spoiler alerts. None of those things happened. He drove up to arrival pick-up and I got into his car.
We had a nice conversation about his trip while we drove to get food. He is really such a sweet guy. He knows how to keep a conversation going and now to avoid awkward topics. There is nothing worse than some trashy ass-face being all. "So.... are you a top or a bottom?" When someone asks me that I try to respond with something like "oh. i'm a side." and then quickly change the topic of conversation leaving them confused about what I like in bed.
So yes he did not ask any ridiculous questions. we went to fudruckers. which i do not enjoy, but he seemed pretty stoked about so who was i to say anything? I payed and he seemed genuinely impressed by that gesture. Bitches like it when you make it rain.
Food was nice. TIME FOR THE MOVIE.
Sandra Bullock's latest movie and I'm excited. I like her. Again I pay. I'm a hustla baby. I just want you to know.
So during the movie I casually put my hand on his knee and begin to rub affectionately. He keeps his arms firmly crossed over his chest for the next few minutes. I fully understand social cues, so I get the hint that its time to keep my paws to myself. I remove my hand and he immediately announces in full voice.
"No. Put it back."
then PLACES my hand back on his knee and links arms with me and begins to cuddle.
um what?! I love me a forceful man. if you put my hands anywhere on your body i'm pretty much in favor of that. unless its your feet. keep that fetish to yourself. ew or your moobs. not a fan.
so i feel pretty good about this, except that this situation is entirely weird. I've been flirty and amazing all evening but this is the one gesture (literally) of affection that he's shown me the whole time. oh well. i'm banking on the fact that this his was of saying "i'm in love with you and want to marry you how about green and khaki for the wedding colors?"
The movie ends and he drives me home. The conversation finally gets awkward because we know what is supposed to happen at the end of a date. Luckily I have a speech prepared. When he pulls up to my place I begin with "So i've had an amazing time with you and I know we live 2 hours away from each other, but..."
He interrupts
"but yeah. if our paths ever cross again, lets hang out."
that was not my "but." MY "but was...
"but I really like you and I'm willing to do anything to make this work."
All i could do was nod. smile and hug him as I got out of the car trying not to cry. I mean I really really liked him and he writes me off with a "maybe we can hang out?" I am not successful with keeping out the tears and he notices, so I run inside.
3 minutes later he calls me to let me know "its not me" I cry even harder. I hate cliche lines. and i hate them more when people actually mean them. thanks, high hopes, now i gotta listen to dashboard confessional to cry it all out.
Gained Points For: Deliberate hand-holding
Lost Points For: Making me cry
Mistakes I Made: Pre-determining him to be "the one"
Chances for Another Date: I am a sucker for guys who hurt me, so if he calls, its an unequivocal yes.
Overall Grade: C -
Saturday, October 10, 2009
White Pants Fantasia
Sometimes I should lower my expectations.
Names have been changed to protect the strange and disappointing.
Name of Date: Y
Date #: 1
Looks Like:
Age: 30-ish?
Occupation: Oh I don't even remember
Where We Met: A club of the gay persuasion.
What Happened: So I'm out at the club. You know how I do. Dat's right. Dat's right. Mackin' on some bitches and passing the corvoisier. Oh wait. I'm not a rapper circa 2002 who uses lingo circa 1994. I'm actually pretty pissed that the people I'm with are ignoring me and I gotta dance by my lonesome. How I am I supposed to please lady gaga if there is no boy for me to grind up on? Shaking my ass to the phrase "I wanna take a ride on your disco stick" is just significantly less fun if there is no one there to make suggestive eyes at while I mouth the lyric.
Anyway. I'm sitting against the wall and I notice this really sweet pair of white pants. Like. I want them. I have always wanted to wear a pair of white pants but can't find any that look good on me. This particular pair of paints is fitting this guy really well so I follow up his leg and check him out. Lo and Behold.... he is attractive. Wait WHAT!? Have you seen the other mofos in this place? Because you do not belong. One of these things is not like the other.
And on top of his smoldering good looks, he is smiling at me! So I smile back. But this clear "come over and talk to me" green light is ignored on my part because sometimes I want to be the lady and make you woo me. I'm worth it. Loreal says so.
After literally 20 minutes of the eye sexing (which p.s. i was safe. i had my contacts in. i don't need no eye scabies.) he writes something down on a piece of paper hands it to some random dude and points to me. The guy delivers it and I'm torn between going "awwww" or throwing up because I am not in 4th grade anymore. if this thing says "do you like me check yes or no" I will crumple it up and put it in my drink.
The note, of course, had his name (which is name that uses a "y" where a "i" usually is... i judged his parents) and number so I texted him. We text back and forth for about an hour each making the obligatory flirty comments. "you are the cutest guy here." "no. you are." etc. etc. Why we can't just actually talk I do not understand. He is literally 14 feet from me and we are texting. Welcome to 2009.
So we plan to go for a walk on the beach the next day. He must be a good guy. He has amazing white pants. I'm pretty sure we're soul mates. I get there early to wait for him. I see a bus pull up and he gets off. Oh hell no. Homo don't have no car, homo don't have no life. This is going to be one long afternoon. Also he is not wearing the white pants and that is sad. I miss them.
The moment he opens his mouth I know exactly why he didn't come up to talk to me. He has the thickest spanish accent ever. Hola. Donde estas el escape route-o?
ok. ok. i'm not racist but my track record with guys who have English as a second language hasn't been great. (see Sven). but i suck it up.
OH! i should also mention he is not nearly as hot in broad daylight as he is in the dim setting of a club. i always forget that shocking inevitability. stupid, timmy, stupid.
Anyway we begin our walk and have somewhat decent conversation. He tells me he was born in Brazil. was once up for Angel in a tour of Rent. Used to live in Boston and is here for a week visiting friends (thus explaining why he took the bus). And that he likes to sing. Which he does. In spanish. I do not understand it and I want to leave.
He also keeps trying to get me to take my shirt off. Even reaching for it at one point and asking "can i see?" I slap him away. "NO YOU CANNOT CREEPY FOREIGN GUY! maybe that's how they do things in brazil (or boston) but I ain't no sex doll you can just undress at the beach."
After this I tell him I need to leave. Its then that he decides to drop the biggest guilt trip ever: "Oh really? I thought we were gonna spend the day hanging out. I cancelled my trip to Sea World with my friends so I could see you."
WHAAAAAT!? You'd rather gamble on getting to first base then seeing shamu? Sea world is the fucking shit. Your priorities are all out of whack and I hate to be the one to tell you that in 15 minutes you're gonna be on a bus back to wherever you came from. WAIT. I didn't mean it like that. Sigh... I'm so racist.
Gained Points for: His dedication. He wanted this date to happen. Hardcore.
Lost Points for: not telling me you're Brazilian beforehand. I shoulda know that. oh and trying to molest me.
Mistakes I Made: Beach walk dates during the day are awkward. They last too long and you get sweaty.
Chances for Another Date: I deleted him from my phone right after. What does that tell you?
Overall Grade: D
Names have been changed to protect the strange and disappointing.
Name of Date: Y
Date #: 1
Looks Like:
Age: 30-ish?
Occupation: Oh I don't even remember
Where We Met: A club of the gay persuasion.
What Happened: So I'm out at the club. You know how I do. Dat's right. Dat's right. Mackin' on some bitches and passing the corvoisier. Oh wait. I'm not a rapper circa 2002 who uses lingo circa 1994. I'm actually pretty pissed that the people I'm with are ignoring me and I gotta dance by my lonesome. How I am I supposed to please lady gaga if there is no boy for me to grind up on? Shaking my ass to the phrase "I wanna take a ride on your disco stick" is just significantly less fun if there is no one there to make suggestive eyes at while I mouth the lyric.
Anyway. I'm sitting against the wall and I notice this really sweet pair of white pants. Like. I want them. I have always wanted to wear a pair of white pants but can't find any that look good on me. This particular pair of paints is fitting this guy really well so I follow up his leg and check him out. Lo and Behold.... he is attractive. Wait WHAT!? Have you seen the other mofos in this place? Because you do not belong. One of these things is not like the other.
And on top of his smoldering good looks, he is smiling at me! So I smile back. But this clear "come over and talk to me" green light is ignored on my part because sometimes I want to be the lady and make you woo me. I'm worth it. Loreal says so.
After literally 20 minutes of the eye sexing (which p.s. i was safe. i had my contacts in. i don't need no eye scabies.) he writes something down on a piece of paper hands it to some random dude and points to me. The guy delivers it and I'm torn between going "awwww" or throwing up because I am not in 4th grade anymore. if this thing says "do you like me check yes or no" I will crumple it up and put it in my drink.
The note, of course, had his name (which is name that uses a "y" where a "i" usually is... i judged his parents) and number so I texted him. We text back and forth for about an hour each making the obligatory flirty comments. "you are the cutest guy here." "no. you are." etc. etc. Why we can't just actually talk I do not understand. He is literally 14 feet from me and we are texting. Welcome to 2009.
So we plan to go for a walk on the beach the next day. He must be a good guy. He has amazing white pants. I'm pretty sure we're soul mates. I get there early to wait for him. I see a bus pull up and he gets off. Oh hell no. Homo don't have no car, homo don't have no life. This is going to be one long afternoon. Also he is not wearing the white pants and that is sad. I miss them.
The moment he opens his mouth I know exactly why he didn't come up to talk to me. He has the thickest spanish accent ever. Hola. Donde estas el escape route-o?
ok. ok. i'm not racist but my track record with guys who have English as a second language hasn't been great. (see Sven). but i suck it up.
OH! i should also mention he is not nearly as hot in broad daylight as he is in the dim setting of a club. i always forget that shocking inevitability. stupid, timmy, stupid.
Anyway we begin our walk and have somewhat decent conversation. He tells me he was born in Brazil. was once up for Angel in a tour of Rent. Used to live in Boston and is here for a week visiting friends (thus explaining why he took the bus). And that he likes to sing. Which he does. In spanish. I do not understand it and I want to leave.
He also keeps trying to get me to take my shirt off. Even reaching for it at one point and asking "can i see?" I slap him away. "NO YOU CANNOT CREEPY FOREIGN GUY! maybe that's how they do things in brazil (or boston) but I ain't no sex doll you can just undress at the beach."
After this I tell him I need to leave. Its then that he decides to drop the biggest guilt trip ever: "Oh really? I thought we were gonna spend the day hanging out. I cancelled my trip to Sea World with my friends so I could see you."
WHAAAAAT!? You'd rather gamble on getting to first base then seeing shamu? Sea world is the fucking shit. Your priorities are all out of whack and I hate to be the one to tell you that in 15 minutes you're gonna be on a bus back to wherever you came from. WAIT. I didn't mean it like that. Sigh... I'm so racist.
Gained Points for: His dedication. He wanted this date to happen. Hardcore.
Lost Points for: not telling me you're Brazilian beforehand. I shoulda know that. oh and trying to molest me.
Mistakes I Made: Beach walk dates during the day are awkward. They last too long and you get sweaty.
Chances for Another Date: I deleted him from my phone right after. What does that tell you?
Overall Grade: D
Monday, October 5, 2009
Closet Case
Sometimes I get to be "straight" again.
Names have been changed to protect the really quite sad and I hope you figure things out.
Name of Date: No Homo
Date #: 1
Looks Like: Your stereotypical college d-bag
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Where We Met: Craig's to the List. Judge me. You should.
What Happened: So I post an add on the CL in strictly platonic asking for friends and cool people to hang out with and obviously post my hottest picture because I need attractive friends. Its like a stipulation in my genetic code.
So No Homo contacts me says he's looking for "chill dudes" who "aren't fem" and sends a picture and he's reasonably attractive so I respond. He says he attends a local college and gives me his number saying we should "hang out." I don't like to give my number to guys I just meet and especially strangers from a sketch website who use surfer vernacular... but i'm lonely so I make an exception. The conversation quickly escalates to texting. oooooo texting.
He tells me I should come hang out with him and his friends that night. I am hesitant but he mentions there is a Dashboard Confessional concert happening on his campus and he could get me a ticket. Um WHAT?!?!
a. the DC still exists? am i living in 1998?
b. hell to the fuck yeah. i'm a sucker for some emo i-hate-my-life-no-one-loves-me music.
So I head over to meet up with him. Obvi.
He meets me and he's attractive. Kinda got this scruff bad boy thing going on. I'm ashamed. But also digging it. I feel like Britney must have felt when she met K-Fed. "Oh y'all... he ain't no JT but I bet he could work it. I bet he has mad pop and lockin' skills. Bit-Bit gonna get up on that."
As we're walking to get the ticket. He informs me of three things.
1. he is so far into the closet that he's having tea with aslan.
2. i need to keep it on the DL so his friends don't know.
3. he's going to say i'm a friend of a friend from out of town who just wanted to see the concert.
I found three particularly interesting because its not really that far from the truth, so why add extraneous details? I mean. thats kind of silly in my opinion. But I'll play along and keep it to myself so that you're friends don't know you're a card carrying, salami swallowing, man-pri wearing, homo-gay. Although your skinny jeans are a HUGE clue.
The concert starts in roughly 2 hours so we head to his friend's room to hang out before the show. Hang out apparently means drink beer and take 60000 photos with a blow up doll. Now I didn't have this kind of college experience where all you do is sit around and drink and be a jack-ass. It was completely new to me. Girls would stop by and giggle and grab a beer and pose for pictures with pouty faces and peace signs, while the guys would grab them, slap their asses and ask to see their panties. Um. No. I did not sign up for frat party 2003. The LFO party needs to get their shit together because I just need some screaming infidelities. thank you.
No Homo is the king of this place too. Flirting with all the girls. Grabbing their boobs even making out with some while I sit in the corner bored and honestly... feel really sad for him. It must suck to be that afraid of coming out.
FINALLY the concert starts and we head over. Its totes brill. Mega-Fab. All that junk. No Homo is texting me the whole time telling me how cute i am and asking me to spend the night all while grinding up on this girl who he tells me is his ex. Its pathetic really. I text him back and say I'm ready to go and like LIGHTNING he grabs my hand and we book it out of there so no one will see. I haven't had to play the quick escape game so I could go get some since I was 19. Its not a fun memory.
We get back to his room and begin furioiusly making out. He is basically begging me to spend the night. Apparently pretending to be hetero makes you ravenous for dick. I'm not surprised. I tell him I'm not cool with spending the night but we can have fun for a while. He all but rips my clothes off and throws me on his bed.I begin taking off his clothes and he says. "Hey dude. I have a tiny dick. just so you know."
Ok. FIRST OF ALL. Why call attention to it? I mean. I'm about to see it, and I would never have commented on it. Yet now you are forcing me to LIE TO YOU and be all "no. no its not. its nice. i really like it." bad form, No Homo.
Anyway.... I give him a nice good working over because I'm sure he doesn't get this treatment very often. He tells me its the best BJ he's ever gotten from a guy or a girl. I want to say "thank you" and curtsy. but. i don't. I then ask him for one. He tells me he's never sucked a dick before.
Hahahaha I honestly say. "well... you're gonna tonight." I'm so awful. I know.
and he does. he gets down there and gives it the old college try. its not great but its his first time so I don't judge him too harshly. We finish and once again he begs me to stay so we can do it over and over. Also Its only 10pm at this point. I know. I couldn't believe it either. Round two is def an option so I say I'll stick around for a little bit.
Ugh had I known it would have included more hangouts with his homophobic buddies while he'd grab my ass when they weren't looking or throw me against the wall to make out and grind his pelvis against mine when they went to the bathroom, I'd have left. Thats not sexy thats just sad. We find time for a quickie when they run to the convenience store for more beer and afterward I make my exit in complete disbelief that this night actually happened.
And "Hands down this is the best date I can ever remember... always remember." no. no it isn't.
Gained Points For: Aggresion in the sack. Pent up gayness makes a boy really want it. Also who knew "you're a jerk" would be a really hot song to get some to? Oh AND when I asked if I was "not fem" enough for him he said "oh yeah." WHO KNEW?! go me.
Lost Points for: Being in the closet. Thats sad.
Mistakes I Made: Sticking around for Act II. I should have made my exit so I coulda caught Will and Grace on lifetime.
Chances for Another Date: I don't really feel like being the awkward "who is that guy?" guy again. so i'm sure there won't be another one. I wouldn't be surprised if i get booty texted though. boooooootyyyyyy teeeeeexxxxxttteeeed.
Overall Grade: C-
Names have been changed to protect the really quite sad and I hope you figure things out.
Name of Date: No Homo
Date #: 1
Looks Like: Your stereotypical college d-bag
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Where We Met: Craig's to the List. Judge me. You should.
What Happened: So I post an add on the CL in strictly platonic asking for friends and cool people to hang out with and obviously post my hottest picture because I need attractive friends. Its like a stipulation in my genetic code.
So No Homo contacts me says he's looking for "chill dudes" who "aren't fem" and sends a picture and he's reasonably attractive so I respond. He says he attends a local college and gives me his number saying we should "hang out." I don't like to give my number to guys I just meet and especially strangers from a sketch website who use surfer vernacular... but i'm lonely so I make an exception. The conversation quickly escalates to texting. oooooo texting.
He tells me I should come hang out with him and his friends that night. I am hesitant but he mentions there is a Dashboard Confessional concert happening on his campus and he could get me a ticket. Um WHAT?!?!
a. the DC still exists? am i living in 1998?
b. hell to the fuck yeah. i'm a sucker for some emo i-hate-my-life-no-one-loves-me music.
So I head over to meet up with him. Obvi.
He meets me and he's attractive. Kinda got this scruff bad boy thing going on. I'm ashamed. But also digging it. I feel like Britney must have felt when she met K-Fed. "Oh y'all... he ain't no JT but I bet he could work it. I bet he has mad pop and lockin' skills. Bit-Bit gonna get up on that."
As we're walking to get the ticket. He informs me of three things.
1. he is so far into the closet that he's having tea with aslan.
2. i need to keep it on the DL so his friends don't know.
3. he's going to say i'm a friend of a friend from out of town who just wanted to see the concert.
I found three particularly interesting because its not really that far from the truth, so why add extraneous details? I mean. thats kind of silly in my opinion. But I'll play along and keep it to myself so that you're friends don't know you're a card carrying, salami swallowing, man-pri wearing, homo-gay. Although your skinny jeans are a HUGE clue.
The concert starts in roughly 2 hours so we head to his friend's room to hang out before the show. Hang out apparently means drink beer and take 60000 photos with a blow up doll. Now I didn't have this kind of college experience where all you do is sit around and drink and be a jack-ass. It was completely new to me. Girls would stop by and giggle and grab a beer and pose for pictures with pouty faces and peace signs, while the guys would grab them, slap their asses and ask to see their panties. Um. No. I did not sign up for frat party 2003. The LFO party needs to get their shit together because I just need some screaming infidelities. thank you.
No Homo is the king of this place too. Flirting with all the girls. Grabbing their boobs even making out with some while I sit in the corner bored and honestly... feel really sad for him. It must suck to be that afraid of coming out.
FINALLY the concert starts and we head over. Its totes brill. Mega-Fab. All that junk. No Homo is texting me the whole time telling me how cute i am and asking me to spend the night all while grinding up on this girl who he tells me is his ex. Its pathetic really. I text him back and say I'm ready to go and like LIGHTNING he grabs my hand and we book it out of there so no one will see. I haven't had to play the quick escape game so I could go get some since I was 19. Its not a fun memory.
We get back to his room and begin furioiusly making out. He is basically begging me to spend the night. Apparently pretending to be hetero makes you ravenous for dick. I'm not surprised. I tell him I'm not cool with spending the night but we can have fun for a while. He all but rips my clothes off and throws me on his bed.I begin taking off his clothes and he says. "Hey dude. I have a tiny dick. just so you know."
Ok. FIRST OF ALL. Why call attention to it? I mean. I'm about to see it, and I would never have commented on it. Yet now you are forcing me to LIE TO YOU and be all "no. no its not. its nice. i really like it." bad form, No Homo.
Anyway.... I give him a nice good working over because I'm sure he doesn't get this treatment very often. He tells me its the best BJ he's ever gotten from a guy or a girl. I want to say "thank you" and curtsy. but. i don't. I then ask him for one. He tells me he's never sucked a dick before.
Hahahaha I honestly say. "well... you're gonna tonight." I'm so awful. I know.
and he does. he gets down there and gives it the old college try. its not great but its his first time so I don't judge him too harshly. We finish and once again he begs me to stay so we can do it over and over. Also Its only 10pm at this point. I know. I couldn't believe it either. Round two is def an option so I say I'll stick around for a little bit.
Ugh had I known it would have included more hangouts with his homophobic buddies while he'd grab my ass when they weren't looking or throw me against the wall to make out and grind his pelvis against mine when they went to the bathroom, I'd have left. Thats not sexy thats just sad. We find time for a quickie when they run to the convenience store for more beer and afterward I make my exit in complete disbelief that this night actually happened.
And "Hands down this is the best date I can ever remember... always remember." no. no it isn't.
Gained Points For: Aggresion in the sack. Pent up gayness makes a boy really want it. Also who knew "you're a jerk" would be a really hot song to get some to? Oh AND when I asked if I was "not fem" enough for him he said "oh yeah." WHO KNEW?! go me.
Lost Points for: Being in the closet. Thats sad.
Mistakes I Made: Sticking around for Act II. I should have made my exit so I coulda caught Will and Grace on lifetime.
Chances for Another Date: I don't really feel like being the awkward "who is that guy?" guy again. so i'm sure there won't be another one. I wouldn't be surprised if i get booty texted though. boooooootyyyyyy teeeeeexxxxxttteeeed.
Overall Grade: C-
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)