You Might Be a Gay Redneck If...

Sometimes a picture is decieving.

Names have been changed to protect the lame.

Name of Date: Redneck Mike
Date #: 1
Age: 26
Looks Like: He was making a funny face... and it froze that way.
Occupation: Verizon Sales Associate
Where We Met: The den of all that is unpure; myspace.
What Happened: I found this guy on myspace and thought his profile was designed so well, that he had to be cool. Probably really into visual art. The kind of stuff when you walk into a Museum you scoff and whisper "well, i coulda done that." when really... you know you couldn't. just admit it.
there.
now you feel better.

Anyway we agreed to meet for coffee at a Barnes and Noble equidistant from where we both respectively lived. I arrive early and order my white mocha latte and sit and wait for him. His picture on myspace was pretty cute, so I had high hopes. Then someone walked in who looked like his older brother that just fell into the ugly puddle... and drowned.

Yes. Yes. I'm shallow. But you are too. Don't even pretend you aren't.

I take in a breath and brace myself for the meeting. He walks up and out comes the most heinous gay southern accent you can imagine. Its shrill and grating. Like Richard Simmons and Foghorn Leghorn had a baby. A sad gay ugly baby.

Strike 2.

He quickly comments on how rude it was for me to already order coffee before he got there. I didn't realize there was a gentelmanly code of conduct for meeting the punchlines of Jeff Foxworthy jokes. While he is ordering his coffee I grab my phone and seriously consider faking an emergency to leave. But I am there. He showed up. Even hicks need attention. I'll give him an hour and then I'll go.

When he returns, we talk casually about ourselves. All the while he's got this weird neck thing going on. Its like his head juts out a foot in front of his body and bobs back and forth. It is incredibly distracting and makes him look like an anorexic quasimodo. Plus there is a lazy eye. Need I say more than "ewwww."

It would be bad enough if this guy's only problem was just being unfortunate looking. I can forgive that. We can't control our looks, especially after a tragic accident with an aforementioned puddle of "uggo,"
But as is the case in all dates, there is always something lurking beneath the surface.

Redneck Mike confessed that, for a time, he had been a professional dancer and was considering a return to it. Really? A dancer? Like ballroom?

No. Clogging.

Hold the eff up. Did you just say clogging? How did i not know that was a possible career choice? I wonder if little hick children sit in one room school houses to take career placement tests that say things like:

would you rather slaughter:
a. a chicken
b. a pig
c. a cow
d. your family in a gruesome murder because the devil told you to.

and possible career options like:
"waste technician"
"dollar general cashier"
"professional clogger"

The guy was a professional clogger. He had outfits. Showed me pictures on his phone. He even stood up and did a little dance. Oh dear God I need to go home. I am not out with someone who's life soundtrack is played on a fiddle?!? But I was.

We finished coffee. Left Barnes and Noble and drove to our separate homes. Me listening to Regina Spektor. Him, The Blue Collar Comedy Tour. I'm assuming.

Gained Points for: Being out. I'm assuming someone from that background probably had a lot to overcome to feel comfortable as who he was. And keeping it short.

Lost Points for: Lecturing me about the coffee. Leave your disapproval of my manners til date 5. at least.

Mistakes I Made: Laughing when he told me about clogging. Oops. You were serious.

Chances For Another Date: Without plastic surgery... slim.

Overall Score: C-