Archive | October, 2012

Respect for Acting

31 Oct

While back in my hometown this week, a guy I met once or twice a few years ago contacted me to say we should meet up for drinks.  I couldn’t really remember much about “Evan,” but figured why not squeeze in a “blind date” of sorts during my vacation?  Besides, I kind of remembered him being cute.

I was out with friends the night Evan messaged me asking where I was.  I told him the name of the bar and literally five minutes later he walked in the door carrying a large bag of electronics.  I had mentioned that my phone was dying so he connected about five cords to whatever was inside the bag, handed me the end and said “Want juice?”  I barely recognized him– He looked about thirty pounds lighter than the last time I had seen him.  The substantial weight loss accented his toothy grin and he reminded me of a sneaky skeleton with chompers chomping in the night when he smiled.  We all had a drink together before he suggested we go next door to the gay bar.  There was a DJ playing dance remixes there, and the second we entered Evan started bouncing around like a crazed kangaroo.  I got drinks with my friend and tuned him out (no one else was dancing).  Soon, it was closing time and the other people I was out with were leaving.  Evan offered to drive me home, but first we had to walk to his apartment to get his car.

On the way, he announced that he couldn’t wait to “move home to New York.”  I asked if he had ever lived there and he said no, but that moving to New York was part of his “five year plan.”  Please don’t say you want to try to make it as an actor, I gritted my teeth as I dared ask him why he wants to move to New York.  “To be an actor, of course!” he replied.  Ok, maybe I am a Negative Nancy, but in five years you want to drop everything you’ve built for yourself here and try to make it as an actor in New York City at nearly forty years old?  God bless America, man.

We got to his apartment and I was impressed by how nice it was.  I realized I had been a fool to think we would just go in, get his keys, and leave.  First, he turned on some mood music, rolled a couple cigarettes, then took off his shirt to proudly reveal what appeared to be rope burn across his torso.  I hesitantly inquired as to what I was looking at.  He shared that he had started regularly attending a fetish club in town and bragged that last time he was there he got tied up and whipped.  This admission was a little hard to take from someone with spiky gelled hair, a Wisconsin accent, and a theatre t-shirt.  But an amusing one, nonetheless.  I was beginning to fall asleep on the couch– it had been a long day and he kept stopping several times throughout each sentence, pausing dramatically for effect as if he was reciting lines.  I made the mistake of asking about his ex-girlfriend (who I used to know) and got a five minute contemporary monologue, complete with exaggerated gestures and the use of a prop.  I apologized for being rude, but had been up for twenty hours and needed to go home and sleep.

I thought about the transformation Evan had gone through in my mind.  When I met him a few years prior he seemed reserved and mature (he is six years older than I).  Little had I known that three years later I would be watching him bounce around like a rabid rooster and looking at his rope burns.  “I hope I wasn’t too obvious about my disdain for his dance moves” I said to my friend the next day.  He replied “Well, you kept giving him the ‘Really?’ look… but I think he mistook it for ‘Really!’”

One of the beautiful things about New York City is that there is a little something for everyone.   Even if Evan doesn’t make it to Broadway, there are surely countless fetish clubs throughout the city where he can get tied up to his heart’s content!

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Text Message Confessions

30 Oct

Below is a series of text messages I received a few nights ago while my phone was dead:

HIM:  You’re electric to me, lady, and you’re as lovely as ever.  Really good to see you I hope we can do it again.  In fact, can you see me tonight?  I know you have plans, but say yes.  I really like you; if this is the only way to see you I’m in.  But remember I want more… I want you to myself.

(A few minutes later)  Ok, I’m embarrassed, won’t bother you again.  Apologies and regrets.  I’m a terrible friend.  I respect that you’re not into me romantically.  I’m sorry to be so dense.  You mean the world to me and I’m glad for your friendship.

(A few hours later)  Our remaining contact is by phone; I’m deleting your entry and I expect you will do the same for mine.  I’m sure you understand.  Thanks.  I need to not be able to talk to you.  Also never think about you.  Not trying to be dramatic, I think we’d be better off in the end if I can shake my feelings toward you.  So out you go.  One day you’ll be less to me than Emily or Nina, but we might be actual friends.  Delete delete, you with me now?  No need to respond.

(A few minutes later)  I really like you, do you not get it?  It’s the weirdest thing. I don’t like it much either, but no joke.  I want you to like me, too.  I need to back off because you are extremely important to me and I’ll ruin everything trying to rape you one night.  You looking for a friend?  I will be that but give me a little while alone.  And don’t remind me that I live with my girlfriend.  Best wishes.

ME:  Hi there, I think you have the wrong number!

Ten Years Gone

28 Oct

This post is dedicated to one of my best friends, let’s call him “Jack.”  I met Jack through a boy who auditioned to be in the one-act play I was directing for Fine Arts Week back in high school.  The boy was cute so I cast him in my play and started hanging out with him and his equally attractive twin brother.  At some point, the twins came over to my dad’s house when he wasn’t home to take advantage of his full bar, and they brought Jack with them.  He was tall, handsome, and soft-spoken, albeit a trouble maker… and we began spending a lot of time together.

Jack worked at a movie theater so we went to a lot of movies, drove around in my old Nissan Altima listening to music, or drank at whichever of our parent’s houses were vacant.  This was also around the time that I was trying to figure out which college to go to.  I was freaking out and being self-destructive; drinking, smoking a lot of pot, and collecting pocket knives because I thought I was a real bad-ass.  I got my eyebrow pierced, which Jack was there for, and I think he was there when I got my first tattoo.  I skipped school a lot, would drive over to the other high school (where Jack was a junior), pick him up and we would hang out in a nearby park together, drinking Captain Morgan’s and watching Indians play cricket.  He was having some issues with his parents, culminating in them calling the police to have him arrested for “stealing” their car.  Eventually he moved out of his house and in with the twins.  Once, while Jack and I were lurking around our favorite park at night, he swiped one of my knives and went crazy on a gigantic event tent that was set up for the next day.  We burned matching marks into our wrists with cigarettes, and experimented with drugs.  The first time I ever did mushrooms was with Jack in his parent’s basement.  I don’t remember much about it, other than him taking every cigarette out of his pack and lighting them in one big log, then passing out and burning his shirt.  Such rebels.

I think it was around this time that we slept together.  It only happened a handful of times throughout our friendship, it was always pretty impersonal, and we never ever talked about it.  I loved Jack in a way I can’t explain.  I never thought of him as a boyfriend or even someone I was casually dating, because we never were.  To me, we had a stronger bond than that.  It was unspoken– Jack didn’t talk about about his feelings for me, but I knew I was important to him, too.  Others were curious about our relationship, however.  One time, while Jack and I were hanging out in the park, his ex-girlfriend was there.  She saw us together and started yelling at him and throwing beer bottles at my head.  There were a few times when his friends mentioned to me how much Jack cared about me.  But Jack never did.

I had been dating another guy from my high school who was in a punk band.  He really liked me, but I had other things on my mind.  I was about to leave for college in Missouri in a few weeks and was still in a complete freak-out mode.  The night after I broke up with my boyfriend, Jack and I broke into the outdoor swimming pool in an apartment complex by my mom’s house to go skinny dipping.  I found a pair of kid’s swimming goggles next to the pool and put them on.  When we were done swimming, I left on the goggles but left off my clothes to drive Jack home.  Not paying attention to where I was going, I crashed my Nissan into the back of a big parked truck.  Jack threw me the remainder of my clothing and took off into the night, leaving me to deal with the wreckage.  I think he was on probation and was afraid the cops would show up.  I left a note on the truck’s windshield (the damage was pretty much all on my car) and drove my smashed vehicle up the street near where one of my best friends lived.  I called her crying, asking if she could come pick me up because my car was totaled.  She said she was in bed and couldn’t come.  I didn’t know who else to call, so I called my ex-boyfriend that I had broken up with the day before.  He was nice enough to pick me up and take me home… where I had to wake up my mom and tell her about the car.

Not long after I left for school, Jack took a bus down to come visit me in Missouri.  I was surprised he was willing to make the journey, but excited to see someone from home.  He stocked my mini-fridge with booze and we spent the weekend doing our normal routine of drinking, walking around, and occasionally making out.  I had a good time with him, but had moved beyond the destructive pranks– like him emptying an entire bottle of my expensive hair product onto my head while I wasn’t looking, and him tearing down signs that some girl had on her door in my dorm.  My dorm was women-only and I had had to get special permission to have a boy stay in my room for a few days.  When my bitter R.A. reported that my guest had torn down the girl’s sign, I got called before the disciplinary board for “vandalism.”  This was a joke to me because I hadn’t even seen him tear down the sign.  I got put on dorm “probation,” whatever that means.

The next time I saw Jack was that Christmas vacation when I went home.  I was happy to spend time with him again after he had made such an effort to visit me at college.  I had to go back to school before the rest of my friends, and one of my best friends ended up sleeping with Jack after I left.  It was the first time that I realized maybe I felt for him in a way that was stronger than just a friend.  I was upset that he had slept with my friend when we had such a close bond that was also physical a few times.  On the other hand, I couldn’t say anything because several months prior, I had hooked up with his best friend (one of the twins).  Whoopsie.

After that, we continued to get together when I was in town, but I guess lost touch a bit.  I went to the East Coast for grad school and didn’t spend much time at home until a couple years ago when I moved back for a few months.  I was having another moment of personal crisis; my three-year relationship was falling apart, I was trying to save money to move to New York, and I was taking a lot of anxiety medication which wasn’t helping.  I remember going to Jack’s bar to visit him, but spending most of the time outside fighting with my boyfriend on the phone.  He understandably kept his distance.  He had cleaned up his act, wasn’t going out as much, had gotten really into biking, and less into wreaking havoc around town.

I finally moved to New York, got my life back on track, and now two years later here I am!  Last Christmas, I intended to hang out with Jack, but was mainly concerned with spending time with another guy friend.  I ended up rescheduling with Jack a couple times and then when we finally saw each other, it was only for a few minutes.  I felt like an asshole the next morning when I saw his text “Nice seeing you for fifteen minutes last night…”  The next time I saw Jack was when I went home for a wedding a few months ago.  I was excited to see him and make up for how I had acted over Christmas.  The night we hung out he was incredibly cold and ended up ditching me for his work friends.  I asked him if it was because he was angry with me, but all he would say is “I don’t know what to say to you anymore.”

Over the next couple months I wondered if I really had grown that far apart from one of my most beloved friends.  But how could he feel like we had nothing in common?  I’ve always thought of him as one of the funniest people I know and I’d like to think we have a similar sense of humor.  He is also the person who introduced me to a lot of the music that has become important to me over the past ten years of my life.  (The title of this post is the name of the Led Zeppelin album that was the soundtrack to much of our time together when we were teenagers.)  I felt like despite his inability to open up about his feelings, I knew this guy pretty well and we hadn’t grown apart as much as I feared.  We had gone through one of the rockiest times in both our lives together and I hoped that we both appreciated that.  I wanted to give it another chance.

Jack and I hung out a few days ago and I was relieved to find that things seemed to be back to normal between us.  He was seeing a new lady-friend and had just gotten back from a cross-country bike trip, so he was in good spirits.  We joked around like we used to, talked about what music we’ve been listening to, and he taught me how to play shuffleboard.  As much like a cliche teen drama as it may sound, I didn’t realize that I had taken our friendship for granted… until it almost fell apart.  Out of all of the friends I have, there is a small circle of people that I will always make exceptions for because they are like my family and I love them.  Jack is one of those people.

OK, back to the blind dates.

Suitors of the Week 7

27 Oct

I had to cancel the dates I had lined up the past couple weeks due to illness and work.  But don’t worry!  That doesn’t mean I didn’t receive an array of amusing messages in my OKCupid inbox.  Enjoy.

1.  “Howdy, my name is Brian. Would you like to go disco dancing or get married?” — This guy’s screen name was OMGIMNAKED.  He was in various stages of undress in each of his pictures, and on the question “Are there naked pictures of you somewhere on the internet?” he answered “Yes, more than one.”

2.  “Hey warrior lol warriors everywhere lol.  enjoy your rein while you all can, because daddy is starting to wake up and you’ve all been very bad, peircing a scaring your flesh common already i know your tough just stop already.”  — Ah, excuse me?  This person felt the need to convey this message to me all the way from Ontario.  Great.  Thank you.

3.  “Where in the Midwest are you from?  I recently took my little sister to the Minnesota State Fair where we rode the kiddy version of the Tilt-a-Wheel and that thing is scary!  I almost fell off because there were no seatbelts!  And we couldn’t feed any of the goats because all the pigs had swine flu.  How was your weekend?”  — This message was sent to me by a miniature man who mentioned on his profile that he and his twin brother were in the Olsen twins movies when they were kids.  He said the Olsen twins were jerks because he asked them for an autograph after they taped “Brother For Sale” and they said they were too tired.  I think the Olsen Twins gave him a complex.

4.  “Something tells me that you probably get about 50 emails a day from loser guys saying things like “Hi, I’m freshly divorced from my 7th wife, have 5 delinquent kids… but the good news is that I have a chance at finally getting a job…”  (Ironically, he states that he is unemployed on his profile.)  In any event, I’m the type of guy your mom never warned you about, but she should’ve!  So let’s get together for a cup of something delicious… if you think you can handle it, that is!”   — This guy’s screen name was Stumpy88.  He was a 6’3″ Asian with candycorn teeth, who was wearing a necklace and baggy jeans in his profile picture.  He listed his favorite foods as “soft-baked cookies, Burger King chicken fries, and Popeye’s mashed potatoes” and his favorite music as “Linkin Park, 50 Cent, Backstreet Boys, Pussycat Dolls, Kelly Clarkson, Good Charlotte, Maroon 5, and Rihanna.”  Baggy pants, teeth, diet, and employment status aside, his musical taste alone makes him my worst nightmare.  I am admittedly someone who judges a person’s intelligence/taste by the music they listen to.  And eating Popeye’s while listening to Good Charlotte in his parent’s basement doesn’t sound like an alluring life choice to me.

5.  “Oh, hey!  Wow!  I like your style.  You’re super cool.  Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and tell you you’re awesome.  Hope you’re having a kick ass night.”  — Wait a minute, is he writing me a message on OKCupid or signing my yearbook?  His profile picture is a close up of his head laying sideways on a bed with an open-mouthed slack jaw and glassy eyes.  The caption says “I seriously don’t even remember taking or uploading this picture!”  Then why is it your featured photo?  I would take it down because you look like you’re having some sort of health problem in it.

Jobless Jake

16 Oct

What do you get when an albino, a kleptomaniac, and an ex-con all work at Wendy’s together?  A date with Jobless Jake, apparently.

A few nights ago I found myself surrounded by action figures at Gotham City, a Batman-themed bar in the depths of North Brooklyn.  I rung a buzzer to be let in to a room the size of my living room that was covered in comic books and other such paraphernalia.  I took a seat at one of the eight barstools and each of the four patrons turned around to greet me and ask what I was up to that evening (I was the only girl in the room).  The bartender’s sense of humor was dry as a bone and he reminded me of a sly alien.

“Jake” had moved to New York from Oklahoma four months prior and was in the middle of the job hunt of the century.  I assumed he must be looking for a very specific job, but he told me he was applying for anything he could find.  It struck me as odd that someone could be out looking for a job of any sort every day for four months to no avail.  I had finished half a beer when Jake arrived.  He was balding, blonde, and looked like he’d had a lot of extra helpings from the family chili pot.  In fact, he kind of looked like Phillip Seymour Hoffman.  We introduced ourselves and the bartender brought over two shots of whiskey “to break the ice.”  I asked how things were going on the job front and he said that he decided the problem was that he was over-qualified– at least that’s what the woman at the job center told him earlier that week.  I wondered if he’d tried searching for employment opportunities on Craigslist and he said that he had, but could only find postings for work as a maid.  “Uh what job category are you looking under?” I asked, and he answered “Miscellaneous.”  What?  No one looks for job listings under Miscellaneous unless they want to be a research study test subject or in an “independent film” where girls get naked and throw suds at each other in a car wash.

Throughout the evening I gathered that he had a college degree in English (equally asinine as my degree in Theatre) and had formerly worked at a Wendy’s (with an albino, a kleptomaniac, and an ex-con) and as a bagger at the local grocery store back in Oklahoma.  He said he really didn’t like his job at the grocery store because he didn’t like being chastised about how to bag loaves of bread.  His roommate that he had moved here with was paying his rent until he found a job.  But he told me not to worry– he could afford to buy me one PBR because they were only two dollars.  I told him I would buy my own drinks.  He lamented that he was having a hard time taking OKCupid girls out because he didn’t have a job and most girls weren’t interested in partaking in free activities on a blind date.  His only other option was the Batman bar.  And there we were.

We naturally progressed to the topic of OKCupid and the usual questions: “How long have you been on it?  How do you like it?  How many dates have you gone on?”  Jake had only gone on one or two other dates so far.  His first date was with a plus-sized girl who asked if he was gay five minutes after meeting him.  I have to admit the same thing crossed my mind, but I wasn’t about to ask him when his profile specified his interest in women.  Apparently he met her at a bar and she spent the whole night complaining about everything, including her friends, whom she had brought with her on the date.  Jake said he ended up really liking the other people they were hanging out with at the bar and even ended up “Friend-zoning it” with some of her friends.  I had never heard that expression before, but mentally catalogued it alongside people who use the phrases “Mickey-D’s” and “Va-jayjay.”  Jake actually called her to hang out again after that, but she never called him back.  After we finished sharing the joy of the OKCupid bond, we shared the joy of the divorced-parents bond and the social media bond.  I told him Facebook makes me tired and Instagram makes me depressed, but I like Twitter.  He said he likes Facebook because he’s “friends” with a bunch of hot babes… but he could never date any of them because all they do is write about how much they hate their parents.  I asked if these “hot babes” were thirteen years old, but he assured me they were at least twenty.

After another round, he walked me to my train stop and asked if I wanted to hang out again.  I said sure because I always say sure… then talk my way out of it later from the privacy of my boudoir.  I felt a little guilty because he looked surprised at my answer.

Before I climbed the stairway to embark on my long journey home, Jake said “Oh yeah, I almost forgot…” and handed me a keychain!  It’s a little orange egg that opens up to reveal some dinosaurs in the midst of a battle with a T Rex.  No one has given me a moving keychain before and it’s definitely a welcome addition to my collection.

I think I just “Friend-zoned” it with Jobless Jake.

Asking for a Friend

15 Oct

A “friend” was telling me about an unusual altercation she recently had at a karaoke bar in Midtown.  She was attending a going away party for someone from college she hadn’t even known was living in New York.  The bar was full of people she hadn’t seen since graduation day six years prior… which is stressful enough.  What was even more stressful is that a guy she used to be involved with was there with his girlfriend.  She eventually abandoned her mozzarella sticks to go greet the guy and meet his significantly younger girlfriend.  When my friend first moved to New York, she hung out with this guy a few times until his girlfriend sent her a sexual text pretending to be him.  She assumed that things would be awkward when they finally met, but the girlfriend was friendly enough.  In fact, she even took it upon herself to select a single man at the bar to be my friend’s “project” for the evening.  The person she selected was a dark-haired late-twenties guy in town from Los Angeles for reasons unknown.  My friend had been nervously downing beers like there’s no tomorrow and figured why not?– so she struck up a conversation with the stranger, choosing to ignore his stale personality.

All of the people she knew there began to depart, but my friend stuck around despite her original intent to only stay for one beer.  Feeling impulsive, she got up to sing karaoke– something she wouldn’t normally do because she hates karaoke almost as much as she hates Midtown and small armies of thespians.  After her song, “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, she sat back down next to the stranger and he leaned in close, whispering “you have a wonderful voice.”  She smiled and excused herself downstairs to the bathroom.  While washing her hands she heard a noise and looked up to see the stranger burst through the door and lock it behind him.  He lunged towards her, forcefully kissing her and grabbing her chest.  She lurched backwards and slapped him across the face– her still-damp hand generating a crisp sound against his cheek that echoed through the bathroom.  She then ran upstairs and out of the bar.

Enduring the discomfort of a moderate hangover the next day, she was able to laugh about the events of the previous evening.  A sad, ironic laugh… the kind that if wine is involved may produce a tear or two.  I should know, I was there.

Suitors of the Week 6

10 Oct

Here are my favorite OKCupid “pick-up” messages I’ve received over the past couple weeks:

1.  “Hi im Stu!!!! Yikes you are really cute and you have such a great smile !!!!!!!!!!! Hmmm I hunt Zombie’s in my down time!! I want to jump off of a diving board into a giant cupcake building size like huge the bigger the better !!! okay !!! I have the bestfriends any guy could ask for and an amazing family that is ultra cool and understanding !!!! KINDA.  I love whiskey , and all kinds of SCOTCH , yummmmmmmy :-} hahahah booze!  aaaarrrrrrggggggg , Im gonna go back to school ! Im gonna get married 1 day !! MAYBE ! Have kids !! MAYBE ! and the house !!! and a dog . pretty much the american dream , hehehehehhehehehhehe!!!”  —  This message makes my head hurt.  Either this guy is not serious or he is a psychotic frat boy who needs to lay off the exclamation points before he triggers someone’s epilepsy.  And please don’t have kids.

2.  “Sorry but I have to tell you that you look extremely adorable in your profile picture. Aaaaand we have 93% Match, just saying… Ok, forget first two lines. How’s your summer been? Any cool plan for Winter 2013?”  —  I wrote him back that my Winter 2013 is pretty up in the air considering that I still have a year to figure it out.  We made tentative plans for December ’13 if I’m still single then… which I will be if I stay in New York City.

3.  “You are one more reason I’m adding to my I Wish I Was Tall list ;)”  —  A 5’6″ man sent me this message.  I have to admit I thought the message was cute… but I’m still not going to go on a date with someone I could carry in a Baby Bjorn.

4.  “I like your swag. Wanna relax and unwine with a lobster roll?  LOL”  —  I’m feeling a strong sensation of regret for not taking him up on this tempting offer.  However, you know how I feel about the use of “LOL.”  It’s fine if you’re a teenage girl going to Spencer Gifts with your friends.  It’s not fine if you’re a 30 year old man asking me out on a date.

5.  “Hi.  Do you count ‘nipples’ as one or two?” —  The sender of this message was a 44 year old man who looks like a mummy.  He continues to creep around on my profile a few times a week.  WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME.

6.  “Hi you’re cute and I am curious.  What is your name?  I am Bo, a swedish fun loving guy. I am going to be straightforward.  Your profile is interesting and your pictures are hot.  I am looking for a friend with benefits that can lead to something more.  I think we would have the best of times in and out of bed.  I am fun, hung, and like to laugh.  I am basically looking for a chill girl to kick it with around the city drama free and respectfully and still be able to enjoy and pursue our own goals.  I mean no disrespect but I don’t like beating under the bush.  By the way have you ever experienced Scandinavian pastries?  I know some secret spots if you are curious.”  —  I don’t even know where to begin, this message is just so good.  What makes it even better is that his screen name was LanceLovePump.  Who wouldn’t want to have the best of times eating Scandinavian pastries in bed with someone who is fun, hung and likes to laugh?  Especially if I can still pursue my own goals while doing so.  LanceLovePump, I think I love you.

Monster of the Week

7 Oct

I spent most of the weekend watching The X Files.  On the show there’s a man who melts into a rock, a monster made out of garbage, a serpent that reproduces itself, etc.  I have yet to see an episode about a man who has clams for hands… But I had dinner with one last week.

“Ken” texted me while I was still at work to say that he had overestimated the time it would take him to get to the West Village from Astoria.  He was in the area 45 minutes early and wondered if I could meet any sooner than our agreed time.  I got out of work at 9 and told him I would meet him at the bar in 5 minutes.  He wrote back that he was lost in a park and would try to find his way out.  O…K.  A little while later we met outside the bar.  He was tall and nerdy, with hunched shoulders, thick black glasses, and dark hair with a sweeping man-bang.  We sat down at a table and ordered food and a couple of drinks.  He had never heard of any of the beers, so he ordered what I was having– chardonnay.  As we waited for our food, he attempted to lay some jokes on me.  One of his “jokes” was: “Oh…i-isn’t this your favorite band, uh Sugar Ray, p-playing on the uh jukebox?”  He looked a bit like a horse caught in mid-whinny and had a slight stutter, but I think it may have been more out of nervousness than an actual impediment.

When we got our food, he raised his hands to the table for the first time and I stared in disbelief.  Although he had the face and the body of a man, there were two clams where his hands should be!  The clams nonchalantly headed over to the plate of calamari on the table and clapped down on one of the pieces with tentacles, raising it to Ken’s mouth.  I looked away so as not to distract them.  Ken started giving me a thorough questionnaire:  “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”… “If you were stranded on a desert island, what three things would you want to have with you?”  Not clams, I thought to myself.  I attempted to answer one of his interview questions and he immediately cut me off with “I’ve uh been noticing that y-your teeth are in TIP TOP SHAPE.  I uh have to ask… D-did you have braces?”  I told him he had nice teeth too, and I noticed one of the clams staring at me out of the corner of my eye.

The rest of dinner went without incident.  We finished our food and the clams picked up the bill.  While we were waiting for his card, he asked me “So uh can I get a kiss?”  I have this personal issue that I’m working through where if a guy buys me dinner, I feel like I have to kiss him.  I know, it doesn’t make sense at all, I just have a hard time saying no… especially if the dinner was good.  In this case however, I couldn’t get past the clams that would inevitably touch me (maybe even try to kill me!) if we kissed.  I told him maybe next time and got out of there.  The calamari wasn’t that great anyway.

Later, I thought back on my date with Ken and his clam hands.  There is only one explanation for this, I concluded… He must not be of this world.

Thanks for the Franks!

2 Oct

There are three categories of men that I’ve found on OKCupid:

1)  The totally un-dateable weirdos/psychos such as ChadJonah, Dennis, and Tall Man

2)  The man-whores who are only on the website to find people to have sex with such as Michael, Jimmy, and Sam

3)  The seemingly normal guys who just got out of a serious relationship and are only looking for a rebound to get over their ex-girlfriend such as Brett, Jazz Shoe Man, Steve, and the guy I’m about to tell you about.

These categories overlap in some extreme cases, and all three types boil down to basically the same thing: me going on dates that probably won’t amount to anything.  So what’s the point, you ask?  Stories.  Exploring the city.  The occasional keychain.  Someone to drink beer and eat hot dogs with… like in the case of “Ralph,” an early-thirties student who installs alarm systems for a living.  I have to admit that profession makes me nervous.  In episodes of Law and Order SVU, the man who installed the victim’s alarm system always ends up being the murderer or rapist.

Ralph lived in New Jersey.  And not in Hoboken or Jersey City… like way deep in New Jersey.  I used to ignore messages from men if they didn’t live in Manhattan or Brooklyn, but since I’ve been growing wary of the recent batch of guys on OKCupid, I expanded my radius.  Now I have the privilege of dealing with weirdos from multiple burroughs and other states.

I met Ralph for the first time after a night out on the town with JesusLuvr69.  I was already tipsy and after a brief chat, some street books, and a beef frank, we called it a night.  He was nice and kind of funny, but I wasn’t convinced it was love at first frank.  The second time also began at Motor City and ended with franks from Katz’ Deli (and me making weiner jokes with the staff… have you SEEN the size of their sausages?).  The third took place at a different bar, but also culminated in the consumption of beef franks.  Now you are probably thinking that I’m some lunatic that flails around New York City eating beef franks to and fro– but I assure you that’s not the case.  After our third “date” Ralph suggested we do something other than go to a bar and eat hot dogs, so he invited me to a movie later in the week.  Tragically, the movie plans never ended up materializing.

After not hearing from him for a week and noticing that he deleted his OKCupid profile, he confirmed what I had already suspected with this text: “I’m getting back together with my ex-girlfriend.  You’re really cool but the distance thing was obviously a problem.  Sorry.”  Wait a minute, did I just get fake-broken-up-with by a guy I barely knew and never even touched?  And what an odd thing to say.  He could’ve just written that he was getting back together with his ex and left it at that– why add the distance part as if that makes any difference?  Guys from New Jersey are silly.

Oh well.  Thanks for the franks!