I’m tired!!! I’ve had my share of long-term monogamous relationships, but I’ve been wholly single for the last 8 months. By wholly I mean at most non-monogamous dating. Woop woop.
This new blog will outline the trials, tribulations and perhaps a success or two of a non-typical Dallas girl and her dating misadventures. Moreover, the idiots and the ridiculous crap I get myself into.
We’ll start it with a past date. Fade to black.
Where the Wild Things Aren’t
It started off with a fun bout of of racquetball at the gym. Two acquaintances getting to know each other by batting a ball around at ridiculous speeds. A fun romp into fitness. After 2 hours, and sweat beading on my brow (well where WASN’T it beading) my then acquaintance asked me to dinner. At first thought I agreed, thinking this a casual rendezvous with separate checks. Some people enjoy the company of another during meals. My main desire in eating is to hoover something relatively delicious from my plate, the glass, the table corner or trashcan into my mouth. Aw, but putting aside my bestial whims should be good for me. I soon heard the dreaded words “date.” IT’S A TRAP!
Red flag #1- From dinner to “If I buy you dinner then it’s a date.” > ignorance based apology from me>>> bouncer reducing cover to $5>>> date still not sold >>> stomach had started eating my intestines >>> “Aaaaagh! Fuck it, let’s go somewhere else,” I bleat out. I turn around flabbergasted, craving a cigarette. 2nd day of quitting was a bitch. I make a beeline for the Indian food place which has JUST closed. Past it is a Chilis. Generic as all hell but at this point he will feed me, so help me god, or I will feast on his flesh!
Once seated with appetizer and an order placed, I begin to calm. Tom stares. I tell him a little about myself. I tell him a LOT about myself. I look over. Tom seems amused but he says nothing. I begin to play with my salad. I ask Tom to tell me something beautiful. He gets confused. I ask Tom what his favorite animal is. He says lion. I ask why? Tom doesn’t know why. I ask him what’s a cool thing that’s happened to him ever. He says he toured with Korn. I get an excited feeling that this new topic may pique a response from him. “What was your favorite memory or was it all a blur?” “The whole experience.” I ask about groupies and when he replies with “There really weren’t any,” my hope goes crashing upon a rock. I look down at my plate gripped in my pale hand. Fork tensed in the other. My salad has been torn to shreds. I remember the look of duty mixed with concern on the waiter’s face as he attempted to take it away. As I relinquished my security salad I came to the abrupt realization of impending doom. No longer did I have a salad to destroy. After my fingers, what would come next? the table, my date, MYSELF?!
I pretended to get a text. I stammered out a thank you for dinner, my friend is lonely, I hafta go meet him and hastily left the still silent table and the If-you’ve-been-to-one-you’ve-been-to-them-all. I drove 20 minutes away to meet my band of nerds. They consist of new roomie Alan and his boss/friends Judd and John. These three like to hang out at the Fox and the Hound. It’s close to work and has bitches. That’s all I need to hear.
I arrived at the Fox and the Hound and much to my dismay I see my date exiting his vehicle. I look around. Maybe I didn’t ever really leave Chilis. Maybe I’ve lost my mind… and wait…. NOPE. This is in fact the Fox and the Hound, but the hunt at this juncture was over. I’m confused but the sanctuary of friends and alcohol calls to me. I enter. Tom follows. I introduce Tom to the guys. he stands and laughs as we recount stories of mirth, madness and martini, but ne’re says a word. He is obviously having a good time. He’s obviously amused. He doesn’t act nervous. He just doesn’t say ANYTHING. At this point I’ve begun drinking. Drinking isn’t working though. I start to imagine Tom as a figment, an illusion, a shadow. My imagination amuses me for a bit, but soon dwindles and I decide to turn to one of my best and favorite friends for advice. Rumpelminze.
Now for an ad from our sponsors. When life gets you down enjoy the minty freshness of Rumpel. Her warm curves will wrap around you and make you feel better about anyone or anything. She will quite literally love you to death.
Needless to say Tom finished the night by himself and my dirty mistress Rumpel and I shared a bed.
Moral of the story: If you’re too shy to speak to someone, perhaps you should cut out your tongue.
Thank you and goodnight.