Archive for March, 2010

Introducing…

     On Thursday last week, I had planned to meet a few potential wingwomen.  These promising ladies may be useful later on in my 2010 quest for finding a New Year’s date, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself…

     A few hours before my Lady Date I was perplexed as to what to wear, as some of you may have seen from my tweets.  What does one wear when meeting a woman that you are hoping to see again, should things work out?  Territory in which I’m not familiar.  No real need to show off my cleavage, but if they took to the “wingwoman” title seriously, I need to show them I have the goods to assist reeling something in, whether for myself or the good of the team.  One was latina, who could out curve me, not needing the assist.  However, the other two were Asian, and they most likely will view “my mangoes” useful.  Went with a light V-neck sweater and jeans. 

     Since I chose a place downtown, I figured, why not multitask?  I had a coupon for a store that was about to expire and needed to run to the bookstore.  Hopped on the train and headed downtown with plenty of time to spare.  First stop, Victoria’s Secret for my free pair of underwear.  Under normal dating circumstances this would probably not be a store I would head to.  And not that I thought the night would lead to needing a change of panties, but if it did, I was now prepared.  Forewent the pink striped bag and just shoved the tissue wrapped garment in my purse.

     Next stop, Barnes & Noble.  Scurried over to the self-help section and there was one copy left of the book I was looking for.  This book is key, for my 2010 project.  Headed to the counter, paid, and nixed the bag there too.  Shoved the book into my purse and headed to the lounge.

     As hoping, arrived about ten minutes early.  Now had ample time to reorganized purse so that my wallet was on top of self-help book and bikini briefs.  Would really love to avoid making an ars of myself on the first meet by pulling out an ATM card with a side of underwear.

     Meet time came and meet time passed.  Ten minutes later one showed up (traffic).  About ten minutes after that, another showed up (Who knows the reason, but she did text to say she’d be late).  And the Latina, after saying she’d be there, never showed (standard LA flakage).  Her loss.

     We ordered drinks, food, and got to chatting.  Miss Independent is originally from the Philippines but has been in LA since she was a child.  Mid-thirties, likes to grab a beer on occasion, and has no problem going and chatting it up with a guy at a bar.  Shop Girl is originally from southern California, but is of Taiwanese decent.  She is more traditional old-school Asian.  In her early thirties, thinks window-shopping is a form of exercise, and aspires to be a housewife.  Shop Girl has a sunny disposition and Miss Independent is a little more matter of fact.  

     Both seem to be very strong in their opinions, but not opposed to hearing those of others.  This was made clear when we were swapping date stories and Shop Girl mentioned online dating and Miss Independent said she never did/would because, “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”  After hearing some of my date stories, Shop Girl asked if I was collecting them.  Man, she has no idea and I wasn’t about to tell.  I figure I can ease them into the blog, if at all.

     At one point, before I knew what was happening, there is was.  My mangoes made it into the conversation with Miss Independent making a flat-as-a-pancake hand motion and telling me I’m not Asian, so I don’t have to worry about it.  Good call on the V-neck.

     All in all it went well and we are planning to meet up again.  On the flip side, I did ask them, since they are both from LA, about some places to go hiking, since I’ve never been around here and I hear it’s great.  I don’t want to be locked in to just meeting up at bars and lounges with them.  Nonetheless, Shop Girl said yoga is as strenuous as she gets and Miss Independent flinched, made a face and said she doesn’t like getting dirty.  Hmph.  Looks like I may need to repost my wingwoman ad and try to find a woman with a little more tomboy in her.  Because window-shopping – doesn’t work for me.

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Oh, Sammy Boy.

     As you all know, I headed out on a cyber quest for a wingwoman last week.  And then, as luck would have it, I caught one wallop of a cold that has knocked me out for about a week now.  Isn’t that just my luck, I put an ad online to meet people, and then get sick and can’t meet people?  This of course has put a delay in the “project,” so I thought I’d share about one person in particular who responded to my wingwoman post, let’s just call him Sammy. 

The emails:

Sammy: I know you said you wanted to hang out with a female friend, but I’m not looking for anything romantic. I…would love to grab a beer after work every once in a while, so I think this could work. In a few short words here is me:
-23 years old (yes, I’m young…but I look older than my age, am mature, and have a lot of interesting things to say  🙂
-College Grad 
-5’9 (maybe a little taller on a good day)
-funny (looks as well as personality)  😉
-over-caffeinated
…and, I like to think that, overall, I’m sorta interesting, kinda cool, andddd…..a worthwhile person to meet!
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Sammy

Me: I have to say, quite ballsy to answer a “wingwoman” ad and blatantly ignore the woman part.  But if you can handle this little bit of sarcasm response, then I guess you’re okay in my book.
-Look older than your age…exactly how many people in LA own up to that? 
So, since you are a guy, gonna take a stab – are you into any sports?  Would sports bars be okay?  Most women, it’s not there thing.

Sammy (at 12:45pm): Aha! You replied, very good  🙂
I definitely have no problem with sarcasm, so we’re good there. I’m more of a half-glass full type of person, which would actually complement your sense of humor. Two sarcastic people is a recipe for either heavy drug use, or constant whining, hahaha.
I’m VERRRRYYY (What’s with the freaking elongated consonants? Try saying that out loud, idiot. You elongate vowels.) much into sports, and it’s refreshing to meet a woman who is as well. … If you’re into sports, then I can talk your ear off with cool stories. On my resume I always include a line that says “Hobbies: Taking Pictures with Famous People” –so there’s a lot of athletes whom I’ve met and have pictures with. (Oh great, a celebrity chaser in LA – how original.) 
Anyway, how about grabbing a beer sometime tonight or tomorrow? You can deride me with your east coast sarcasm, and I’ll try and cheer you up with my west coast optimism. 

Sammy (at 12:47pm): Actually, hanging out today or tomorrow would be perfect. I don’t know if you follow college basketball, but the Pac-10 Tournament is going on. Wouldn’t mind checking that out and making a fool of myself cheering for my team.

Sammy (at 10:35 pm): Hmmm, having seconds thoughts about a wingwoman with “balls?” (hopefully you appreciate the pun)

Me: No, no second thoughts. (Well, not yet anyway.)  Actually I caught a cold this week & I’m getting progressively worse.  So meeting up tonight or tomorrow won’t be good for me…  
I don’t really get into basketball, college or pro.  I’ll watch a game live but not into it on TV.  I’m more of a baseball/football person.

Sammy: You’ll watch a game live, huh? WELL….if Cal beats…(blah blah blah)…going to the Staples Center and watching the game. But with you having SARs and all, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…..   🙂
You set me up to fail already, Telly, and I fell for it. There’s no baseball and/or football going on right now, so inviting me to a sports bar….I don’t know. I don’t know what your intentions are with me. I like to always think the best of people, but you’re not giving me any room here. I’m an impressionable young professional, and am susceptible. Hahaha. 
No, truth be told, don’t let the baby-face and innocent act fool you. I’ll have you tied up in leather straps and your bank accounts emptied in no time, hahaha. Watch out now. (Oh dear God, he thinks he’s funny.) 
Well, hopefully my playful banter (Is that what that was?) entertained you enough to take your mind off your illness. If a spoon fool (yes, he typed “fool”) of sugar makes the medicine go down, then consider yourself cured, cause I’m sweeter than honey and more effective than Tylenol.    😉  Better ask somebody. (WTF?) 

Me: Eh hem…Sparky…simmer down.  For someone claiming to be California cool, there was a heavy dose of sarcasm in that last email.  And call me “Telly” again and I’ll FedEx my SARs right over to you. …
And, dear boy, I did not set you up to fail.  I didn’t invite you to a sports bar; I simply asked if they’d be okay.  No jumping the gun there, Sparky.

And his final monologue…

Sammy: Weekend was….eventful, lol.
I ended up going to the Cal-Washington game at Staples Center on Saturday. My college roomy is shipping off to Jamaica for the Peace Corps next week, and was having a barbecue at his place Saturday night, so my buddy and I were planning on attending. But…. (you’re from the East Coast, so you might have a negative bias towards this)– we get high. (Friend’s step-mom was arrested for her pot farm growing in her basement.  She lived in PA.  Pretty sure East Coasters get high too.) Annnnd, (again with those freakin consonants) my roomy lives…a good 45 minutes away. And there was no way I was driving that far high. So we decided to chill at my other buddy’s house…smoked some more (Maybe I should introduce him to ADD?)…and, I got in my car to go home, and I realized that…I had NO idea where I was, or where I was going.  Everything looked unfamiliar, and after two close calls with me narrowly avoiding accidents, I decided to pull over into an empty parking lot and sleep it off. Couldn’t sleep, so ended up at a Dunkin’ Donuts and chowed down on some coffee and a glazed donut. (Oh, he’s a gem, isn’t he?) 
Felt a lot better, smoked my last cigarette (yes, I smoke cigarettes…I’m usually not this honest with people in the “getting to know each other” phase…I usually put up a better facade (I’d stick with that plan), and just wait for them to see me drunk for the real me to come out….but whatever….social conventions be damned). So where was I? Right, so I smoked my last cigarette, felt a lot more alert, and hit the road. 
I was doing a lot better this time around, but the music was wayyy (Mother F#$*%@ consonants) too intense, and I started driving in circles…I kept noticing the same signs, I was literally 15 minutes away from my house, but it took me almost 2 hours to get home. (Why God, why?  Who did I piss off?) 
At one point I got on the 5, drove for a good 20 minutes, and somehow ended up AT THE EXACT SAME SPOT after exiting. No idea how that can happen. (Oh, it’s like I won the lottery.)  
After a good hour and a half of aimless driving, I finally found a street that I was familiar with, and drove on home.
Sunday was a lot more laid back.  Drove to Simi Valley, there’s a Border’s I like in Simi Valley, a lot of good memories there, so I went to grab a book and have a nice coffee and smoke. Ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. Had a nice chat. Recharged my battery, then drove back. (Why the Hell do I care?) 
Hit 80,000 miles on my car on the drive home. That was a pretty special moment for me (I think). (…uuugh…)
Arrived home to a house full of noise and chaos. (At least he found it this time.) Played the respectful/good host for a while, but got a bit irritated towards the end of the night. Checked my gmail account a few times, hoping for a message from you. To no avail. Finally heard back from you. Was initially a bit intrigued by the reference to cold medicine…thought you were gonna say something about sippin’ on cough syrup and cognac- but again, you disappointed. 
This is becoming a common theme in our relationship- disappointment. (Oh, you have no idea.  And WHAT relationship?) 
I like that you have a nickname for me already, increases the odds of us actually having a beer (How do you figure that Einstein?)…you know, in “real” life, hahaha. 
Smirked at your “jumping the gun” comment. Thought about how I could weave in a joke about “premature ejaculation” but couldn’t find anything that fit. (Oh, thank God.) 
Anyway, hopefully my midnight ramblings have taken your mind off of your incurable, insufferable, no good, sleazy excuse for an illness- cold. (I think I feel worse.) 
Write me emails more frequently. If you’re truly sick, and not just claiming to be sick, you should be on the computer 24/7 (what else are you gonna do? you’ve got nothing better to pass the time…you’re sick!) So if you’re not blowin’ up my inbox by this time tomorrow, I’ll know the truth… (So, you’re looking for a stalker?)

Yours truly, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live… (WTF, after that long rampage we’re married now?)

There was a very good reason why I put “woman” and an age range on my wingwoman post.  Thanks Sammy, for pointing out why I made that decision.

Spurts

     It seems that all things in life come in spurts.  When you’re in your early twenties, just out of college, there is a burst of weddings.  A few years later there is a bit of a baby boom, and not necessarily from the friends who got married.  Then there is a lull.  By the time you get to your late twenties to early thirties there is another burst of weddings.  This burst lasts a bit longer so it’s more of a slow burn on a stick of dynamite.  I now fall into this “Ka-Boom.”  Within the next eight months I have three weddings, and a would-be fourth but it was postponed due to bride’s unexpected pregnancy.

     Fortunately, I have strategically placed myself on the other side of the continent and can get out of attending most.  I’m aiming to dodge the family weddings.  That is all I need, old-world wisdom and the third degree as to why I’m over 30 and still single.  This would be followed by snide, “you’re next” comments and “You’re on the market, put yourself out there.” 

Oh, I’m on the market alright.  I just seem to be at a store no one can find.

     In hopes of some guy finding “my store,” I decided I need a personal locator, a go-between, a…wingwoman.  I figure if a guy can have a wingman, why can’t I have a wingwoman?  And so the search is on.  Step one in finding a 2010 New Year’s Eve date. 

How will I find said wingwoman?  Simple.  I posted an ad on Craigslist – Wingwoman/women Wanted.

     I had to be very clear with my intentions and stated that I was looking for someone to grab a beer with and that I’m not running a pimpmobile.

     This is all new territory for me.  I’m searching for someone on the same team and gearing up for some…ah…lady dates.  No need to worry about shaving, waxing, or plucking though.  It’s a nice change.

Tool Time

     The other day, while taking the train on my way home from work, I got a text from a number that didn’t match any IDs in my phone.  Seeing as this happens sometimes when I exit the subway or get off a plane, I didn’t think too much of it.  I opened the message to find the enticing: Hi 🙂  -Great, I’m dealing with an extreme conversationalist.

     I simply replied that the number wasn’t reading and I asked who it was, having a keen sense that it was some guy I met during my online dating days.  He took it as a joke and told me it was “a good one” but he prefered the “I just changed to a new phone and have no numbers saved.”  Moron.  I explained the exiting the subway bit, that I wasn’t making anything up, and I had no clue as to who he was.  I was certain it was a he (meaning online idiot) at this point.    

We finished up our texting chat like this:

Him:  I met you on pof.  What’s your username? 

(Look Buddy, you contacted me, what’s your name?) 

My response: Must have been a long time ago.  I’m not on pof anymore.

     Haven’t heard from him since.  My deductive reasoning tells me that the only guy that would want to bicker with me via text would be none other than the Latin Boy -Feisty Game Player.  What a tool.  Dude, it has been over three months, in what world do you think I, or any woman, would have sat around and waited for you?  Obviously, your charm worked so well the first time around.