Friends and Low Places

Every once in a while, with the TV on in the background I hear the iconic theme song to “Cheers” and it brings a smile to my face. Not because it reminds me about the show necessarily but it makes me think of the bond that I have with my friends. There is just something comforting about a group of close friends that know everything about you and still like you anyway.

That being said, I’m fortunate enough to have a small group of friends that love me just for being me. I consider their homes my home away from home and know that I’m welcome at all times. So when one of my friends tells me that there is going to be a party at their house. I know not only am I going to go but I am going to have a damn good time.

This particular party was New Year’s Eve. I don’t generally consider myself to be a particularly superstitious person but I do feel like that what you are doing on New Year’s Eve/Day can sort of set the tone for the rest of the year so I make sure I’m always surrounded by friends and/or family on those days. And of course since it’s one of the days the whole world celebrates the surrounding cast of characters did not fail to make an appearance.

One of them being my ex boyfriend “Bryce”. No biggie, we’re on speaking terms. As a matter of fact he’s been crying to a mutual friend of ours about how he really wants to get back together, and he knows that the breakup was all his fault and he’s so lonely without me, blah, blah, blah…

He sits down next to me and strikes up a conversation. I’m pleasant, after all I’m drinking. (Hey! It’s New Years Eve!) He then starts in on me that I never call him. To which I remind him he’s told me that he doesn’t like to talk on the phone so why would I call him, and besides you don’t call me either. This leads into him telling me that’s probably because he’s not really ready for a relationship.

This sends me into a TIZZY! Not because I’m irritated that he doesn’t want to get back together. Really I don’t care either way. What pisses me off is that this wishy washy son of a bitch is going to ear fuck my friend about the history of our relationship and where it went wrong and then pulls THIS crap. Besides your 49 fucking years old! If you’re not ready for a relationship now what the HELL are you waiting for?

I immediately head into the house and have a shot. And then another. And maybe even one more and quickly forget about the whole situation. At some point Bryce leaves and his stupidity is brought up in a conversation by someone who is still at the party. This causes my aggravation to once again rear its ugly head and I declare to everyone that I’m going to go punch him in the balls.

That’s when the night goes black……

I wake up the next morning with a roaring hangover, horrible cottonmouth and praying for death to find me quickly. I roll over in bed and immediately hit my head on something. What the fuck? As I open my eyes to see what I just hit my pounding head on I see Bryce with a stupid grin on his face. I’m guessing by the smile I didn’t hit him in the balls. At least not with my fist.

I quickly put on my shoes and head for the door. He jumps up and follows me and starts saying something about coffee. I tell him that I have to go check on my dog and get the hell out of there.

Later that day my phone rings off the hook, my friends calling to ask me what happened once I left the party. I tell them quite honestly I have no earthy idea. They’ll have to get the rest of THAT story from Bryce himself.

Smoke and Mirrors

I know I can be rough around the edges. I know I can be a tough person to deal with sometimes. I know that I’ve built up quite a reputation, but I also consider myself a fairly rational person. I guess that part doesn’t come out nearly as often as I think it does. This apparently leads people to tell me things that they think I want to hear. My motto is I don’t do things to people that I don’t want them to do to me so I tend to play it straight forward. I guess that is my blessing and my curse.

Once again I get a “smile” from someone from the BBW site that I’m a member of. I’m excited because I’ve had my eye on “Beau” for a little while but since I’m not a paid member of the site I was never able to contact him directly. I had seriously been considering getting a membership just to be able to talk to this guy and much to my surprise he is now sending ME an email! His pictures are great, his story is right up my alley and he actually seems like a pretty decent guy. Have I finally hit the jackpot?

We arrange to meet at a local restaurant even though he’s from about an hour away and see how that plays out and go from there. I’m impressed already. He’s willing to drive to me, that in my book is a big deal. We meet for a simple dinner and start to get to know each other. He starts off by talking about all of the women he’s dated and what was the matter with all of them. Wait a friggin minute! That’s my line! I’m the funny one with a blog. You’re cramping my style dude! I sit through the endless list of things that have been wrong with his dates worrying that each time he starts another story that the exact thing he didn’t like about that date is going to describe me to a tee. So I sit, and listen. Almost speechless, this really isn’t like me at all.

Suddenly he gets a phone call and excuses himself. At least he’s not rude enough to sit there and talk in front of me like I don’t exist. We finish our meal continue to talk when his phone rings again. It’s his daughter, his grandson isn’t feeling well and she’s taking him to the emergency room and she needs him home right away. Ahhhhh, here it is. The classic blow off. It’s Friday night and I’m going to be home by 8PM. Oh well, at least I got a free meal out of the deal and didn’t have to sit at home for the evening. I thank him for a nice time, tell him I hope his grandson is OK and we part ways.

So I think we’re done. Nope. He texts me non-stop the rest of the evening telling me that he was having a hard time concentrating at dinner because I was so beautiful. That he was undressing me with his eyes the whole night and that he hopes that he can make his sudden departure up to me the next day and take me out again.

HUH? So that wasn’t a blow off? Wait, now I’m confused.

I didn’t really feel any sparks but I thought maybe that was because I was so freaked out that he would be turned off by one thing or another about me since his damn list was so long. So I decided to give it another try and agree to meet him the next evening. He told me that he would call when he knew his work schedule so we could make plans for the night.

Wouldn’t you know, I’m still waiting for that call. Guess it was a blow off after all. So why the big theatrics and the apologies and the texting me all night long? Why not just quit while you’re ahead? Why did he feel the need to blow smoke up my ass when my ass was perfectly fine without it? Guess that’s a question that will never be answered.

Dud-Muffin

I felt the twitch. The itch. The discomfort. No, it’s NOT an STD. I think I feel the end of my man-cation coming on. It was a lovely summer of not caring. Not subjecting my self to the perils of dating. Not torturing myself with the mental preparation of learning about a new person only to find out he’s a douche bag. But when I wake up in the morning and I realize that the warm body lying next to me in the bed is my dog, I feel the loneliness and I know that I don’t want to stay that way forever.

The problem is the first piece of advice that I get from everyone is to stop looking and it will happen! Honestly it makes me kind of nervous. I’ve been single so long now I don’t know how to not look. It’s like asking a tigress to not chase the gazelle, like asking the black widow spider to ignore the fly in its web, like asking me to not feel & grope in a dark room full of hot rednecks. It’s just un-natural.

All that put aside, I did put my profile back on one dating website. One that is specifically for BBW’s (Big Beautiful Women for those of you who aren’t aware) but promised myself that I wouldn’t pursue anyone just let them come to me. And come they do. From everywhere! I mean I’m not bragging, I’m sure any woman that posts her profile on a website catered to people that like her specific kind of body type, hobby, religion, interests, etc… would have men flocking to her too. I just think it’s crazy when I get “smiles” from Canada, Russia and Greece. I mean, I’m sure you’re lovely but I’m looking for a date not a pen pal.

So I’m excited when I get an email from someone fairly local, we set up a date and meet. He calls me to tell me he’s running late so I tell him I’ll wait in a bar that I know of until he gets there. After all it’s a first date and I’m nervous. Nothing like a shot of courage to cool the nerves.

He finally shows and he decides start the conversation by telling me he’s from a long line of alcoholics and he doesn’t drink. So now I feel like an ass. Way to put my best foot forward! So I try to change the subject. Find something that he does like so I can get him talking and get to know him better. The problem is that every time I ask him a question I hit a roadblock.

Smoke? No. Kids? No. Ever been married? No. Tattoos? No. Drugs? No. Pets? No. Roommates? No. Brothers or Sisters? No. Ever broke a bone? No. Surgeries? No. Jeez! I’m batting a thousand here! Play any instruments? “I played the Tuba in High School” I wasn’t touching that one…. What do you do for work? “I sell insurance” Seriously? OMG! I have just met the most boring man in the world! How did we even get to the point where we set up a date without me falling asleep? Clearly this was not going to work out.

So after a few more attempts on my part to talk about ANYTHING don’t work I decide to call it quits. He at least is a gentleman and asks if he can walk me to my car. I’m all for chivalry so I accept. He gets to my car and moves towards me like he is going to give me a hug. He’s much taller than me so I try to adjust myself to make it the least awkward as possible. Except he takes his arms, throws them over my shoulders and grabs onto my ass and just stands there. Doesn’t say a damn word. Doesn’t attempt to move around, offer an explanation, nada. Just friggin stands there. W-E-I-R-D!!! After what seems like an eternity in my brain trying to figure out what in the HELL is going on I somehow pry myself from out from under him and say goodnight.

I never did hear from him again. Which is good because he was SO boring that I can’t remember his damn name anyway. I might not want to be alone for the rest of my life but I certainly don’t want to hang out with somebody whose idea of a good time is watching paint dry.