aaaaaaaand i'll be forever single


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there are bad dates. and then there are bad dates. this week i had one of the latter.

it was kind of a random set-up by the grandmother of one of customers and instantly started grilling me as to my relationship status. married? no. engaged? no. boyfriend? no. imustsetyouupwithmyson!!

i gave her my number. whattheheck, right? (i happen to work with this guy's niece and she assured me he was *very* attractive.) the next DAY he calls me. hmm, lil' desperate maybe? we set up a date to meet on wednesday. (not really wanting to waste a perfectly good weekend night on him.)

so. wednesday he calls me and wants to know where he picks me up. um, i'll meet you, i tell him. no, no, he must pick me up. i make up this very long story about being in meetings all day and not knowing where i'll be prior to the meeting time. we finally agree to meet at a mutual place. at this point, i'm really beginning to question this wisdom of this decision. if this guy is TERRIBLY good looking and normal, why doesn't he have a girlfriend? or why is his mother so desperate for him to be married. (i hate having the date pickmeup/dropmeoff because if it IS a flop, then you have the akward car ride back.)

i arrive and before he even says "hi, i'm bailey!" he annouces "oh. my. word. they didn't tell me you were a redhead! redheads are my FAVORITE!" um. k. ps. he isn't attractive, at all. not one tiny bit.

we walk out to his car. he drives a viper. ok. nice car. we'll ignore the fact it's a domestic. we start to the restaurant, which is a solid half hour away. we drive along, i'm trying to make conversation. he is an only child. well, he considers himself an only child even though he has step-siblings. aka. he is a spoiled brat. he also has no hobbies. mkaay. he lives with his mother. HE LIVES WITH HIS MOTHER!! he also wants to know "where i see this relationship going" first thought "NOT back to my place!" but i manage to utter out a very strangled speech about not having time for a real relationship. the closest thing being meeting someone for dinner twice a month. his response? "yeah, yeah, that's cool with me. if you want to do the whole weekend relationship thing. you know, we call each other every day and see each other on weekends..." he also lets me know he believes in "the man upstairs". what the hell is that supposed to mean?

um, no.

we get to dinner. it is a veryvery nice restaurant. but i'm incredibly creeped out at this point. i'm desperately struggling to make conversation. but there are plenty of akward pauses wherin he gazes upon my beauty (and chest). i honestly don't remember what we talked about, other than he kept exclaiming "we have so much in common!!" somehow, the fact i'm buying a house came up, which he managed to tie into a converation regarding his decorating skills of the bedroom he lives in (in his mother's house, of course) to which he gave me the memorable quote

"yes, i love the way you do your makeup. so soft, so sensous. and your hair... it all reminds me of the way my bedroom is painted. the soft sensual colors..."

did he just compare my makeup to his wall paint?

he also shared with me that EXACTLY a week ago, he wished upon a shooting star for someone who was "gorgeous, sexy, intelligent and sucessful" and HERE I WAS!! he now believes in karma. um. k.

when the bill came, i grabbed for it. simply because i knew i was never going out with this guy ever again and didn't want him to think i was meal grubbing. no. no. he would have none of that as he gazed into my eyes and told me what an absolute pleasure it was to buy me dinner.

on the way home, he somehow starts talking about politics. now, please understand, i am willing to talk to anyone about their views and listen to intelligent discussion. but, really, date conversation material? he shares that he would vote for hillary clinton if she we running for president, though he has never voted... nor is he registered to vote... nor have his parents ever voted...

i had restrained myself from lecturing or ranting all evening. (i had recently recieved a lecture about trying to be nice to people.) but i did deliver a quick peptalk about the responsibility as a citizen to vote. he promised to register. however, he started talking about issues and politicians. he thinks condi rice is "racial" (not racist) and that she only looks out for the interests of "those people". he also managed to work in the word "nigger".

his views on abortion? (not that i wanted to know) "if, you know, you're poor and stuff. and you, like, sleep around, you shoudl have an abortion because you won't take care of the baby anyway. but, you know, if you have money, you should keep the baby."

up to this point, we were speaking in the third person. all of a sudden he switches to the first person and says "i want to make love you as badly as you want to make love to me. and, you know, if you got pregnant or whatever, i wouldn't leave you."

i was speechless.

the minute the viper stopped, i clambered out and ran to my car hearing his little voice trail behind me "call me....."

i went home, took the flowers he gave me and beat them until their petals fell off and created a vodoo doll out of them.

well, not really. but if i knew how i would have.


3 Responses to “aaaaaaaand i'll be forever single”

  1. Anonymous Anonymous 

    guh. you win. there's no way i can top that.

    nor do i want to. :P

  2. Anonymous Anonymous 

    You just made my day. Thank you.

  3. Anonymous Anonymous 

    I'm so glad you documented this. in.cred.i.ble.

    Also, I detest it when people use the "man upstairs" phrase. Seriously. It's not a hard word to use, doll. just one syllable and three little letters.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


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