Tuesday, May 25, 2010

There Is No Title That Does This Date Justice

I have been debating on if and when to tell this story because it is both funny and gross, but you my dear readers deserve to read this BECAUSE it's both funny and gross. I'm pretty sure this is also be the very date that sparked my desire to write Kate's Dates, so how could I deny you this joy/awfulness?

Another disclaimer: If you think of me as a daughter or I am your daughter, you may not want to read this.

I met a guy online. He was about 5 years younger than me, and I don't normally go for younger guys, but we hit it off and I thought I'd give it a shot. For our first date he took me out karaoking, which I adore. He had asked me if I had a place I wanted to go, but I let him pick. One of my rules I don't think I've addressed yet is I do not take dates places I regular. If it doesn't work out, I don't need some clingy guy just happening to show up at my home base locales. Anyway, he chose a place I'd never been, and it was great. He even got up and sang and totally hammed it up. Too funny. We spent all night goofing around, being silly, and it was great! Ok, maybe I underestimated the fun I could have with someone who's alot younger than me. (BTW, I know 5 years isn't alot, but I was 27 and he was 22, and there's alot of change that goes on in between those ages, so I feel I had a right to be a smidge leery.)

Our second date we went out to a club, which is something I'm not a huge fan of, but it wasn't wasn't some swanky high end club and not too crazy packed, so it was fun dancing around all night without a care in the world. Now we've had two really fun dates and things were going very nicely! It was laid back and exciting all at the same time. How great!

During the week after our second date, we were talking and right before we got off the phone, he asked if we could go out again on Saturday. I said sure, and he said he'd call me Saturday to set up plans. Yay! Date #3! Date #3 to me is a tell-tale date. You've gotten comfortable enough with a person that they almost always let down their first-date-make-a-good-impression wall a little. It's when you get to see little glimpses of the differences between who they actually are and who they want to portray. Friday night he texts me telling me to be sure to keep Saturday night open for him. I write back, done and done!

On Saturday, my roommates are going out for the evening. They invite me, but I say no, I've got a date later. Where am I going? Not sure, but you guys have fun! I had kinda hoped I'd hear from Young Boy earlier in the day so I knew what to get ready for, but whatever. It's no biggie. I don't know where we're going or what we're doing, so I just get ready for a casual night.

7pm rolls around, and no call. Hmm. That's strange. Well, I guess we didn't make set plans, so maybe we're not doing dinner? I grab something out of the fridge and plop down in front of the TV.

8pm rolls around, and no call. Ok. I check my phone again to make sure he didn't say next Saturday or something. Nope. 24 hours earlier he told me to keep tonight open. He's still in his early 20s and is probably just a late-starting guy. I'm not gonna worry quite yet.

At 10pm, I decide this just isn't happening. I get out of my going out clothes, into my jammies and grab a glass of wine trying not to be hurt. Realistically I could've called or texted him, but I just don't do that. I'm not desperate, I'm not clingy, and if he's not interested in pursuing me then I'm certainly not going to go chasing him around. I'm a pretty cool chick, and he's missing out! These are all the things I'm saying to myself to try to ease the pain of being stood up by someone I thought was into me. I'd like to say it helped a little, but if you've ever been stood up, you know it sucks balls no matter what you tell yourself.

11:15pm, I get a call. I was almost mad when I saw his number come up, but I answered anyway as nonchalantly as possible. "What's up?" Young Boy asks. Um, duh. I've been waiting on your ass all night long. Of course I don't actually say that. "Nothing. What's up with you?" "Nothing," he says, and then asks, "Do you still want to get together?" What? It's 11:15! Where the hell are we supposed to go this late? "Where would we go? It's pretty late and by the time we got out somewhere, it'll probably be last call." "Yeah, that's true," he says. "Maybe you should just come hang out at my place." Oooooh, I get it now. You're booty calling me! Interesting choice since we've only kissed at this point, so why he thought a booty call was going to happen, I have no idea. Silly Young Boy. I did still want to hang out, so I figured since I knew where he was trying to go with this, I decided I'd go and just be ready to thwart any advances.

I show up at his studio apartment just before midnight. When he answers the door, he kisses me hello and I can smell and taste the whiskey on him, which I hate. The guy has been great up until now, so I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Oh, were you out with your friends earlier tonight?" That would make sense why he waited so long to call me. He was out with his friends and time got away from him. It happens, so that must be it! "Nope, just hanging around here all night." Um, what? You've been sitting around your apartment all night long? Alone? Waiting until the middle of the night to call me to ask me to do the exact same thing with you? And you've been sitting here alone drinking enough whiskey I can smell it on you?? All of this is just reinforcing my third-date-exposes-all theory. Not cool, but I've already wasted my Saturday night, so whatever. I'm already here so I'll just bear through it. As if he can read my mind, noticing I'm not drunk and he clearly is, he asks if he can get me a drink. Sure, whatever. We walk into his kitchen and he opens the fridge. The fridge is entirely empty except for a gallon bottle of Jack Daniels and one egg. That's it. Literally. No bottle of ketchup or salad dressing, no to go box with leftovers, no can of pop, not one single thing in the fridge except for a gallon bottle of Jack and a lone egg sitting on one of the shelves not even in an egg carton. "Oh, did you just move in?" I ask hopefully. I mean, come on. That's just weird. Everyone has something in their fridge! Without any notice of my tone whatsoever he replies, "Nah, I've been here for years." Weird!! I don't drink Jack, or egg for that matter, so he has nothing for me to drink. "I'll just have some water," I say. He pours me a glass of water and himself another glass of Jack. Awesome.

We sit down on the couch and watch some movie he had already started. He asked if I wanted to start it from the beginning, but jesus no, let's just get this over with. While the movie is playing, he leans over to kiss me and I think 1) Yuck, I hate Jack! but 2) he's been a good kisser thus far, so at least I can have something good about this evening. We start making out and then he bites my lip. Hard. Not a playful, sexy bite, an I was worried he'd drawn blood bite. I ask him what he's doing and he said he was just playing around. We start making out again and somehow he bites my cheek, really hard. Like leave a mark hard. Even softly, how is biting my cheek supposed to be hot? Not to mention, how the hell do I explain to anyone why I have a bite mark on my face?! I tell him, if he bites me again, I'm going to knee him in the balls. He laughs and I tell him, no, seriously. Stop it. He leans over and kisses me again, and now I've learned his pattern and right as he's about to bite my shoulder (again, come on dude. How is gnawing on my shoulder hot even a little bit?) I push him off me and tell him I'm going to get more water. He was up doing something when I came back in from the kitchen, but he was on his way back to the couch. When I sat down next to him, he leaned in again. I blocked this attempt by turning away and telling him we should finish the movie. He says, "Ok, let me use the bathroom first."

Now I've been quite a tolerant girl at this point. This guy has done weird thing after weird thing tonight, and I've just taken the punches and tried to roll with them. As he's in the bathroom, I start to notice the quiet. He hadn't turned the movie back on, I'm assuming because he didn't want to miss anything, and there are no other noises in this little studio apartment. Except for the noises coming out of the bathroom. I wasn't specifically listening to what noises were going on, I just thought to myself, "Man, you can sure hear everything in this little studio! If I go pee, I might turn the water on so he can't hear me." Then I start to notice that the noises I'm hearing from the bathroom aren't of him peeing. And they aren't from him dropping a deuce. What the hell could he be...no. No no no no no no no. No. He can't be...could he? I thought back to us kissing on the couch and I could clearly feel on my hip he was ready to take making out to the next level, but really? Really?! No, I must be wrong. I HAVE to be wrong. Who does that? I sat for a second and listened really closely.

Yup. He's whackin' it in the bathroom while I'm just sitting out here on the couch.

Ok, time to bolt.

It was summer, so all I had to do was get my shoes and purse and get the hell out of there. My shoes. I took them off at the door, but they weren't there anymore. Where the fuck are my shoes?? I'm in a freakin' studio apartment. There are only so many places they could be! I look under the couch. Not there. I look in the kitchen. Not there. I frantically look by the bookshelves, by the TV, under his stack of video games. Nothing. As I keep searching, I think, they're only shoes. I'm not parked that far away. Even if I was, who cares? Maybe I don't even need them. Right as I'm thinking this, I find them in his closet, behind his hamper. So this guy is not just whacking off in the bathroom at this exact moment, he also tried to steal my shoes?? I sure as shit didn't put them in his closet behind his hamper! Am I on a hidden camera or something? Can this actually be happening in the real world? If everything went his way and I stayed the night, how would he expect me to get home the next day without shoes?? Would he try to convince me I came there barefoot so the little freak could keep them? I need to get the hell out of here, like now!

I make the poor choice of sitting down to put my shoes on (I shoulda just left barefoot!), and as I'm midway done, he pops out of the bathroom with a big old goofy smile on his face. Now there is a smell of not just whiskey, but of a guy who just whacked off and didn't wash his hands. Gross dude. Gross. He drops down on the couch next to me all super close, trying to put his arm around me and says, "What should we do now?" He smelled awful and on top of that, he had broken a sweat. Beads of sweat had formed all along his forehead from his bathroom activities. And now you want to know what I would like to do? Are you freakin' kidding me? "I'm gonna go," I say. His smile dropped immediately and he asked with what I can only describe as genuine confusion, "Why?" Wow. Wow. I don't even know what to say to that. If you don't know why, I can't help you dude. "I'm just going," are the only words I can actually get out. He asks me if he can walk me to my car. Oh, NOW you're a gentleman. Is that that first-date-make-a-good-impression wall I see coming back up? Too little too late nutjob. No, dear god, I do not want you to walk me to my car. I flee so quickly that I didn't even notice him trying to give me a kiss good night. When I get to my car, I see he'd texted me saying, "No good night kiss?" I look up to where his apartment is from my car and he's standing in the window with one hand on the glass and a sad look on his face, watching me read the text. It was so pitiful I felt sorry for him for a second. Then I shook it off remembering he just beat off a few feet away from me and tried to steal my shoes. I put the car in drive, peeled out, and never looked back.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Just Another Night on the Town

Dating isn't just about going on actual dates. The whole single scene can be just as ridiculous and entertaining as the dates it produces.

I was dating this guy for a little while who was a karaoke DJ, also known as a KJ. He knew my girlfriends and I loved karaoke (that's how he and I met in fact), so he told me about a bar where they had just started karaoke and asked him to KJ. He asked me to get my girls together, said he and his partner could really use the added support since it was the bar's karaoke debut, and he'd make sure we would all sing alot. Well you don't have to ask me twice about karaoke! Only one of my girls was available that night, so the two of us headed out for the bar.

Karaoke started at 9:00, but we weren't sure how crowded it would be so we got there at 8:30. The bar itself was really a sports bar kind of place, and it was hopping, but we didn't see karaoke anywhere. We asked the bartender and he pointed us to a room in the back. We walked in and it was like an old dance hall. The whole floor was hardwood, perfect for dancing. There was a stage at the front, a bar at the back, and along the sides were little elevated areas with a couple of tables and chairs all blocked in with metal railings. It seemed like the stage would be a great place to karaoke, but they had set up all the tables and chairs on the dance floor to face one of the little elevated, railed-off areas. My friend and I got our drinks and sat at one of the tables. There were maybe 5-10 other people in the whole room, so I guess there was no need to get there early! The guy I was seeing wasn't there yet, but his partner KJ was up on the "stage" setting everything up. I went up to get a karaoke song list, said hi, and he told me my guy was out getting some cord that broke and he'd be here later. OK, no prob.

As my girl and I are checking out the song list book, this older man, probably in his late fifties walks up to us. He looked like a homeless man in a 3 piece suit. He was either really unhealthy, was mentally disabled, or maybe Los Angeles just rode him hard and put him away wet. Maybe all of the above. Who's to say? Regardless, I knew we were both hoping this conversation wouldn't last very long. He walked up to us and started rambling about how he really likes his suit and how pretty we were and how he was glad the weather was nice today and what pretty girls we were and he likes karaoke and oh yeah, did he forget to say he thought we were really pretty? No? Oh, well just in case you forgot you girls are pretty. Thanks crazy dude. He asked if he could sit down with us, to which we politely said no. He wasn't even looking at us some of the time. Just staring off to god knows where, maybe entertaining himself in his own head. Then he randomly just wondered off in the same manner he'd arrived.

My friend and I giggle about the strangeness of the crazy guys and think, this is going to be a funny night! The music then kicks in, and it's so loud, you'd think there were 100 people in the joint. I look around and, nope, still just about 10. After the music kicks in, another man approaches the table. He's probably in his early forties, and dressed very conservatively. Sweater vest, button-down white shirt, khakis. Textbook conservative. He walks right up to us very eagerly and says with a huge, excited smile, "Hey, are you guys here from Beatup.com?" We just stare at him and say excuse me, what? "Beatup.com. Are you guys here from Beatup.com?" I look at my friend and I can tell she has no earthly idea what he's asking us either, so I say, "What is Beatup.com?" He tells us it's a website where people post where they're going to karaoke that night and anyone can join them. I say, "Oh, that sounds interesting, but no, we're not a part of that." His shoulders sink and he loses his smile and says, "Oh, ok," and slowly wanders away from our table. I tell my friend I'm so glad he explained what Beatup.com meant because I was thinking he was trying to tell us we looked beat up or something. She clarified for me that he was actually saying MEETup.com, not BEATup.com, but either way, weirdness.

We look around the room and now there are about 20 or so people there, and we are two of only four girls in the entire place. As we're discussing the math and what the means for the evening, a third guy comes up. This one is young, probably early twenties, and drunk as a skunk. It's only about 9:15 at this point, and this dude is LIT. He slurs something at us, almost knocks a drink off our table and then just stumbles away. Wow. We scan over to the other two girls to see if they're getting this same treatment, and they're talking with Mr. Beatup.com, shaking his hand. Ok, well at least mister internet guy found his posse. That's nice. The girls are dressed a little slutty, especially for a sports/karaoke bar, and they certainly look funny sitting with Mr. Sweater vest Beatup.com, but at least he's got some people to sit with.

Karaoke didn't start until about 9:30, and when it did, we thought we might get a break from the weirdos in the room. No such luck. Wave after wave of guys would walk up to us, creep us out, and then leave. Homeless guy in a suit came back 3 times. An what's funny is each time he walked up, I don't even think he remembered hitting on us before. The last time as he was walking up to us I just repeated out loud, "Please no please no please no." He waited for me to finish and then asked me if I wanted to dance with him. I looked at my friend in disbelief, looked back at him and said, "No." We looked at the other two girls again to see what ridiculousness they were going through, and it seemed their Meetup.com group was growing in size. They were still the only girls, but they had quite a few more guys. The one girl was awkwardly trying to sit on the other's lap in an attempt to be sexy or something, but it just looked uncomfortable. They were both way too drunk for it being so early, and Meetup.com was looking a little Beatup.com.

The guy I was dating finally showed up around 10:00pm. He got things situated up on the stage with the other KJ, and came over to say hi to me. He gave me a kiss, and then my friend and I quickly recapped our evening for him. As we're telling him, Homeless guy walks up to us again. My guy has just given me a kiss and is holding my hand as we're talking, and homeless guy asks me again if I want to dance with him. Again. Without flinching my guy cuts him off and says, "Are you trying to pick up my wife in front of me?" My first thought was to cover my left hand so he wouldn't see I wasn't wearing a ring, and then I realized this guy was so out of it, he wouldn't even think to look anyway. Homeless guy then all the sudden realizes that there's a man there now too and decided he needs to be best friends with my guy. My guy tells him that both the ladies at our table are spoken for, so leave us both alone. Thanks My Guy! I knew I was dating you for a reason! When Homeless guy leaves, my guy asks us how many times we've sung. None, we tell him. Still waiting. Which is weird because there are still only like 25 people in the whole room. Once my guy gets up to the stage, we finally get to sing, which is after all why we're there! While each of us is up, the one of us left at the table got hit with a constant wave of sub-par, beyond drunk, or mentally unstable suitors. As much as we liked singing, it was nice to be back sitting with each other so we didn't feel like lone prey in the wild. We check out the other two girls in the place and they are now standing in the middle of the group of guys, dancing with each other. The circle of guys around them are all glued to the girls and haven't noticed another thing around them. All we can think is, Awesome! That's like 10 guys that won't be hitting on us! Thanks trashy girls!

Around 10:30, we started talking about just leaving when Seth MacFarlane walks in. Seth MacFarlane is the guy who writes, produces, and does the voices for, among other things, Family Guy. Now we're in LA, so seeing someone famous isn't necessarily unusual, but seeing one of them karaoke is kind of a treat. Seth and his friend walk right up to the make-shift stage, say hi to the two KJs, and sit down at one of the tables that's on the stage. No one really seems to notice because the other two girls that were dancing together are now making out with each other, so why would anyone notice some guys walking in? We decide that seeing Seth sing in person might be worth hanging out just a little longer.

We keep waiting and waiting for Seth to sing. And nothing. His friend sang. Seth did not. Then it's our turn to get up and sing, and let me tell you how weird that was. Singing a song with a famous person about 5 feet away from you, staring at your back. Also, all the drunk guys were getting really bold now that they'd watched the girls make out, and it was getting more and more difficult to fight off the onslaught of slurring come-ons, so my friend and I pretty much kinda stayed on the stage with the other while we were singing for our own personal safety. After our songs, we knew it was time to go. If the entire cast of Family Guy showed up and did a full on choreographed production, it STILL wouldn't have been worth the constant harassment.

I say good night to my guy, and as we're leaving, some of the guys from the Beatup.com group stop us and ask where we're going. We're just going, we say. "Don't you want to get in on this?" one of them asks and points to the two girls still making out. "I think we're ok," is all I can say as we power walk away.

As soon as we leave the karaoke room, we're in the normal bar, and it is full of normal people. People just hanging out, eating nachos, drinking beers, laughing. We look back into the karaoke room and we suddenly feel like we somehow just escaped some alternate universe where all that was once good in the world has gone to die.

Later we found out that karaoke didn't take off at that bar. My friend and I just can't imagine why.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Training a Puppy

I know I've been out of commission for a while here, but have no fear, there are still countless stories to be told!

There was a guy at another job I had that caught my eye, and I was pretty sure I had caught his. You know that fun, flirty time where there's a clear mutual attraction? We played around in that fun time for a while. We didn't necessarily have to see each other during work, but we'd make excuses to run into each other, and it was exciting.

After a few weeks of this, he asks me for my number. I'm thinking, Yay! Finally! As he's typing it into his phone he says to me, not even looking up from the phone, "You can come over to my place tonight." I can? Lucky me! Oh wait, I remember now. I'm not a whore. "No thank you," I say. He stops typing, looks up from the phone and asks, "What?" Apparently I'm the first woman in the world to turn down his stellar charm. "No thank you," I repeat. He stares at me questioningly, and after a pause he asks as if he's speaking in a foreign language, "Well, can I...call you later?" Aw, I feel like I'm training a puppy! "Yes, you can call me later," I tell him.

Work is busy and I don't see him much or hear from him at all, but about a week later I get a text from the puppy. "You should come over tonight." Whap on the nose with a newspaper. No. Bad puppy. My actual response was, "No thank you." "Aw, come on. Come over." Oh, ok. Now I'm sold. Maybe I need to be clearer. "When we go out, we'll go OUT, not in, so drop the 'come over to your place' thing." And to this I get no response.

About another week later I get another text. "Let's do dinner." Ok, well, I guess that's kind of asking me out. "Where?" I ask. He writes back, "If you drive up to my side of town, I'll buy, but if I have to drive to you, you buy." Whap on the nose! No! Bad puppy! "You either want to take me out or you don't. Sorry, no bargaining."

Now I'm not stupid. Normally at this point the guy would have blown all his chances with me. Well, if you don't know me, let me add in a little extra detail. I'm 6'1". This puppy happened to be 6'8". You just don't come across that many super tall guys, so I let a little more slide with him than I should have.

So he doesn't respond to that statement either. I know what you're thinking, this guy's a keeper, right? I know. About a week later, he sends me yet another text asking, "Can I please take you out to dinner? We'll go wherever you like and it's my treat." Well look at that. Good puppy! I tell him that would be great, and we decide to go out 7pm on Sunday night. He said he wanted to pick me up, and even though I don't normally let my dates pick me up for a first date, I'd worked so hard at turning him into an acceptable date that I didn't want to discourage his positive behavior. So against my better judgment I gave him my address and we were set for Sunday at 7pm.

Sunday afternoon at about noon I get a text from him that says, "I'll be there at 8." I write back, "Thanks for letting me know you'll be late, but can we aim for more like 7:30?" No response from him. About an hour later I send another text that says, "8 is a late start. Can you try for 7:30?"Nothing. Around 4pm I send a text, "When are you coming to pick me up?" "8." Mister conversational. Well gosh, I am really looking forward to this date.

I get ready, and I tend to be early for things, so I was ready around 7:40, with high hopes that he would still show up early since I was so clear that I would have preferred to go out earlier. No dice. 8:00 comes and goes, and I'm still just sitting up in my apartment all dolled up with nowhere to go. At 8:30, I start thinking, is he standing me up? I haven't heard a word from him since 4:00, so maybe he's just blowing me off. Most of the time, that would fall under the category of upsetting, but he had left a sour taste in my mouth I was actually happy with the thought of not going out.

At 8:40 I decide that it's jammie time. I change from my date clothes to my pajamas, wash my face and plop down on the couch for some Sunday night TV thinking about how this is probably a good thing.

At 9:15, I get a call from the puppy. "Hey, I'm downstairs, you can come out," like he showed up on time. No 'I'm sorry I'm late,' no 'I was stuck in traffic,' no nothing. No remorse and clearly no couth.

I reply, "You're over an hour late. Technically you're over 2 hours late because I didn't want to change from our original time of 7:00. I thought you were standing me up."

"Well I'm not. Come down stairs," he says.

"I'm not coming downstairs. I'm in my pajamas."

"What? Are you fucking kidding me? It took me 2 hours to get ready and you're not even coming down?!" Yeah, that's the ticket. Swear at your date before it starts.

I ask, "Why didn't you even call or text to say you were going to be late? I'm not..."


What? WHAT? He HUNG UP on me?! This fucking puppy just peed all over me! Who the hell hangs up on the person they want to take on a date? And what guy takes TWO hours to get ready? I'm a girl and even if I really really try to take a long time, I still only take about 1 1/2 hours to get ready. Maybe you should have been a man and gotten ready in 15-20 minutes like the rest of the known male universe and you wouldn't have been 2 hours late for our date!! I can't even imagine what the hell took him 2 hours to do, let alone why he would even advertise that it took him that long to get ready.

But I digress. He hung up on me! Wait, maybe he didn't. Maybe he or I dropped the call. I mean, a normal human being wouldn't actually show up an hour and 15 minutes late for a date with no notice and then hang up on the girl for asking why he didn't tell her he'd be late, right?

I call him back and it rings six times then goes to voicemail. Ok jerk wad, clearly this was not an accident or a dropped call. As his outgoing message was playing I was debating on whether or not to leave a message. Then I thought, well of COURSE I'm going to leave a message. I tell him he is one of the most disrespectful people I have known, who does he think he is hanging up on someone like a child throwing a tantrum, and do not ever call me again.

I hang up the phone and I am just fuming. What an unbelievable tool! Seriously. Who the fuck does he think he is?! I'm so beside myself that anyone could act so rude, I call one of my girlfriends to recap the whole thing. Maybe I'm missing something. I mean, really, how does anyone feel the have the right to act like that? Maybe I'm too inside the whole incident and I can't see some big flag saying why this behavior could possibly be acceptable. My friend is with her mom when I tell the story and they both agree, yes, he's a terrible human being and no, there's nothing I'm missing. He's just a major tool and all we can do is be happy this all happened before I went on the date so I didn't have to deal with this piece of shit for an entire evening.

At 10:00, my phone rings. I look and it's the god-forsaken puppy. I'm no longer angry, in fact I couldn't care less about this guy at this point, but an apology would still be nice to hear. I answer the phone, "Hello?" He responds, "Are you coming downstairs or what?"


Really? Really? You show up an hour and fifteen minutes late, you don't tell me you're running late, you hang up on me, I leave you a message saying to not call me again, and all of this tells you to wait outside for us to still go on the date?!?! What have you been doing in your car for the last 45 minutes you weirdo? If you really wanted to still go out, why would you not lead with an apology? Wouldn't have done him any good, but come on. What a ridiculous douche bag!

"No, what part of tonight made you think I was still going to..."


Yeah, that seems about right. I've always been a cat person anyway.