Sunday, August 28, 2011

Broken English Bulgarian and Oversexualized Steve

Due to the sticky situation that I have participated in longer than I'd like to admit, I have taken up the fun sport of internet dating again.  Since my last experiences and an overall improvement in emotional health I believe that I am more prepared for my upcoming experiences.  I started back with a free site, probably not the "safest" idea.  Most free dating websites have a reputation just being for hookups and filthy encounters.  I have gone on a few unsuccessful, yet tolerable dates which made it worth going back to.

So, the website is equipped with a fun little chat feature, which enables gentlemen to immediately communicate with you in real time.  My first gentleman chat was a non ugly looking fellow, who's grammar was poor.  There were several miscommnications during the chat.  When I started to sign off, the gent asked me for my phone number.  I'll admit being flattered, but more so, I was uncertain how I could say no.  So, I didn't, I gave him my phone number.  He started texting me almost immediately.  Again, miscommunications ensued.  I even accused him at one point of propositioning me for a booty call.  Well, the poor lad was utterly confused at this point, he couldn't figure out what I was talking about.  It took several more text messages to find out that the gentleman with the poor grammar was from Bulgaria and his broken English was not translating well in either instant message or text message.  Needless to say, I discontinued our "relationship."

I took another attempt at bat in the realm of internet dating.  So, I guess I should admit that I typically avoid the "pretty" guys.  I tend to talk more to the gentlemen with a couple more pounds to them and the ones who DO not have in their profile paragraphs describing their obsession with working out.  I tend to believe that it is better to end a convo with a geeky and uncertain guy rather than listen to an arrogant one talk about himself for far too long.  Well, tonight, I started talking to what I thought was a "normal" guy.  Ugh!!

We flirted, I busted his chops about something stupid, we exchanged banter.  As the conversation ensued, his suggestion and sexual innuendo became less veiled.  I was taken aback after this gentle man persistently asked me to come to his place.  When he was turned down, he offered phone sex.  I told him that I was old fashioned and if he didn't like he could move on, I was going to apologize.  So, he seemed to back off, and we were able to talk about other things.  Until, he asked for my phone number.... UMMMM.  Here I was again, did I learn from my previous phone number mishap, NO.  I gave him my digits.  He behaved for several text and I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, unlike my previous phone encounter, but unfortunately, I should have been more careful.  At one point it even got so bad there was mention of a tongue and an often unmentionable special lady part.  I was uncomfortable.  I called him out one last time and he apoligized, he tried to explain that it could have been worse, I gave him one last chance (did I mention he was asking me out for the home opener of the bears game... my threshold for intolerable was raised).  The next after the apology read as follows, "craziest place u've had sex, fav position."  I ended the conversation immediately telling him that I am looking for a gentleman who has more in his conversational repertoire than the basest of all topics... sex.  I'm no prude, but seriously.

Can't wait for what else is out there.... 

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Seriously?

So, I finally started my big girl job after graduate school.  I loved the job, even better, I loved that finally I would be earning money again.  I had been living the life of a graduate student, back to eating ramen noodles and complex carbohydrates with no nutritional value or protein in sight.  But finally, oh finally I was back in to the world of earning! 

Friday was my first payday and I already had plans on how I was going to treat myself to a new handbag.  I admit to living a thrifty lifestyle for the past couple of years, and finally I was going to spend my money on something I wanted.  After I had deposited my check, I rushed to the department store to purchase the new handbag that I had set my sights on.  Unfortunately, I made the cardinal mistake in shopping, picking something out, setting my heart on something and then not buying it, inevitably, it wasn't there when I went to pick it up and nothing else measured up. 

I picked my chin up and decided that perhaps instead of a new hand bag, I could pick my spirits up with a new outfit to sport to the upcoming 'couples' wedding shower that I had to go to that night... alone.  (That's a story for another post)  If you are asking, yes I was in the wedding, so no there was no getting out of going to it.  Yes it was called a couple shower for a reason because all the games that were intended on being played all required a his/her team.  I would only have the her portion of the team and there would be no single gents in attendance.  Although I was in the wedding I clearly had nothing to do with the planning of the extremely considerate and welcoming event persons of all statuses.  Anyway...

After the great disappointment in the purse department, the women's clothing was quite the opposite, I found the perfect outfit... and it was on sale.  I bought everything, a new dress, a jacket, earrings and a new bra.  I was set!  I felt great, I even paid cash.  Things were looking up.  I knew even though I didn't have my new hand bag, at least I would have some armour to protect myself from the upcoming barrage of couples games that night.  I felt fabulous, I had money in the bank, a new out fit ready to be worn and a little extra courage that it brought with me. 

On the way back home to get ready for this shower, my car started jerking.  This was odd, my sweet car had never made that motion before.  Alarm shot through my head.  It was still running and going, but a funny smell was coming from the car.  For a while I was able to convince myself that the smell was just me sweating from shopping and excitement... denial anyone?  I continued driving but then my car refused to continue any further.  Ummm... CRAP CRAP CRAP!!

I ask you this question, what's worse than being single at a couple's shower... single with a broken down car!  I called up my best friend who's husband considers himself a car buff and clearly has far more knowledge about what's under the hood than anyone else I knew.  When I explained the symptoms he kept repeating the word transmission.  Even with no knowledge of cars, I knew that wasn't good.  He recommended not driving it... well great, cause it wasn't going to drive anyway!  I called the next best thing to a BF... AAA.  A tow truck was there about an hour later, all the while I was melting on the side of the road watching the time tick by counting down until I was supposed to be at this shower.  One might now beg to ask, could I have used this as an excuse to not go to the shower... no, as only one of three bridesmaids, I was going to be at my own personal hell if the last thing I did!

When the tow truck driver asked about what was wrong with the car so that he could let the mechanic know, he literally winced at the symptoms.  Winced. 

While he cautioned that he wasn't a mechanic he admitted that it didn't sound good.  Again the horrible word transmission was mentioned again.  Ugh.  The car was towed to the mechanic, I was towed back to my apt to get ready for the night. 

My first paycheck had been in the bank for less than twelve hours and already it appeared to be completely spoken for.  Thanks universe for that kick in the crotch... we'll talk again in two weeks!!