My Date With a Gay Man

Last Wednesday I went out with a man who had great potential.  He was divorced with one kid, according to his Match profile, and working for a great company, as he had explained in our emails.  He grew up in the country, works in the city and loves to hunt.  His family ancestry isn't Italian (hard to come by in New Jersey) so I knew I didn't have a fist pumping guido on my hands.  He was tall and cute with nerdy hipster glasses and I was psyched!

We were meeting for dinner so I had on one of my fabulously casual yet sexy blouses that looks like it's from anywhere other than Old Navy.  I got there on time and received a text that he was running a few minutes late but would be the man in the green jacket.  Considering I had "met" him on Match and already knew what he looked like, I found this fashion information to be a bit gratuitous but patiently waited for my green-swathed date to arrive.

I saw him walking up to the place.  He was as tall and cute as his pictures suggested and wearing hunter-hued outerwear.  I was so excited until he threw his arms out, squealed "Hey--eyy!" and wrapped me in a bear hug.  It was at that point that my brain switched into overdrive.  I must have blacked out under a frenzied inner monologue to the tune of, "OMG-WTF-are-you-doing-you're-on-a-date-with-a-flaming-homosexual (not that there's anything wrong with that) but-OMG-how-does-this-man-not-know-he's-GAY?!" because the next thing I know, we were sitting at a table with menus in front of us and I had an awkward smile plastered over my face like an idiot.

Doing my best not to overreact, we ordered drinks and exchanged the usual first date pleasantries.  I got to hear about his job, his previous job working with recording artists (including some country A-listers) and about his time in the Army (don't ask, don't tell, anyone?).  I started to think that maybe I had overreacted.  Perhaps this is what New Jersey country boys sound like...and then he complimented me on my Cartier watch.  He spent a good chunk of time talking about fashion and clothes and how much he loved to shop. I became increasingly aware of the fact that I was wearing a top from Old Navy and quickly changed the subject.

I moved onto talking about divorce and since he had not broached the subject, I brought up his child.  His Match profile stated that he had one child who lived away from home so I wanted to get the scoop. As it turned out, he not only fathered one child, but THREE children with his ex-wife!  So much for honesty.  To add insult to injury, he was also married when he was 19 and fathered a child with that woman as well.  Technically, that child lives away from home (because he's in COLLEGE!) so I guess his profile wasn't completely misleading.

Throughout the dinner I found myself so flabbergasted that I was on a date with a man, twice divorced, with 4 children and a voice that could only be described as FAB-u-lous! Aside from the lying bit, I had a great time with him once I got over the fact that he was discussing guns and hunting in an effeminate lilt.  It was sad to me though that after two marriages and four children, he still wasn't true to himself.  Perhaps I'm wrong and he just happens to sound like the Honey Badger narrator while really loving vagina, but this Badger don't care.  Gay or not, I don't date liars.

Warning: Explicit language!

Thunder Thighs

Months ago I posted here about why I don't date men in their 20's.  Cliffs Notes: They're immature and I can't be bothered.  However, being the first person to admit that I break my own rules, I recently went out with a 28 year old from Plenty of Fish, who for the purposes of this post, I will call "28".  I decided to give him a shot because he was a nice homeowner with a great job and seemed to have his act together.  That was a mistake.

I should have realized that 28 and I weren't going to be a good fit when he jokingly called his hands his "paws" on our first date.  He said that although they weren't very large, they were rough like paws, hence the moniker.  They were quite calloused, sure, but I didn't think that he was so serious about his physique.

Aside from the comments about his hands, 28 had a penchant for making ridiculously cheesy jokes.  Although I can appreciate someone being their own brand of weird and expressing themselves, I just about died on our third (and final) date when he burst into a round of "gun" jokes that referenced his arm muscles, which, weren't even that big.

28: "Do you have a BandAid?"
Me: "Let me check, why, what's wrong?"
28: "Because I'm cut" ::flexes arm muscles

28: "Do you have any tape?"
Me: "Umm, no, why?"
28: "Because I'm ripped!" ::flexes muscles again::

Almost as big of a douche as Ryan Lochte

As though arm muscle jokes weren't bad enough, he topped off our third date by (jokingly?) calling me Thunder Thighs.  I don't care how close you are to a woman, but the words Thunder Thighs should never, ever ever ever EVER be uttered in their presence.  For some reason he seemed unaware of that fact that this was an insult and got annoyed that I took offense to his comment.  When I told him that his comment upset me, I complained that I was "ruining the day".  The last man who told me I ruined the day with my (justified) feelings is twice-divorced (only once by me) and still eating cereal for dinner every night.

Dating 28 wasn't a total loss though.  In addition to the Home Depot coupon for 10% off a $200 purchase that he brought me for the light fixture I've been eyeing, I ended the weekend with two kick ass jack o'lanterns, a huge batch of apple crisp and roasted pumpkin seeds from our apple and pumpkin picking date yesterday.

28 might have been a douchebag, but Thunder Thighs came out on top!

Best. Date. Ever. (Kidding) aka The Night I Ditched My Date for Another Dude at the Bar

Several months ago I went on a date with a man who was separated at the time and going through the divorce process.  Although I was breaking my "No dating men who aren't yet divorced" rule, he said they had been separated for a while and were just working out the legal kinks of their custody order.  Having experienced the hassle of legal kinkery (no, not that kind), I threw caution to the wind and agreed to meet him.

He told me he would be coming from court, as he and his soon-to-be-ex-wife would be duking it out over their kids that day.  Awesome.  Putting my better judgment aside, I showed up and hoped that he would be in a good mood, as meeting someone after an appearance in Family Court is like playing a game of Russian Roulette.  When I showed up, he was sitting at the bar, halfway through his vodka rocks.  This is the point when I should have realized that I was dealing with a nightmare and bolted.

Instead, I politely asked how his day was, expecting him to give a reciprocal polite but vague answer then move on to more appropriate first date topics like politics, religion, abortion, or anything other than your divorce proceedings.  Instead he took it as carte blanche to air his dirty divorce laundry through another couple of drinks. After his third drink, he started referring to his soon-to-be-ex-wife as "that effing c-u-n-t" (because spelling it out is not only offensive but leads porn spammers to my blog).

To add insult to injury, my date then proceeded to tell me how much money he made, how he was the most interesting man on Earth, and other things arrogant people like to say that I try to tune out.  The fact that he was a Jets fan and drove a Japanese truck put me over the edge. I needed a reprieve.  What I really needed was to leave, but sometimes I'm to polite for my own good (yes, really).

I excused myself and headed to the bathroom.  On my way there, I was approached by a cute man I had seen sitting near us.  Having heard my boisterous date brag about himself all the way across the bar, he laughed and asked me how my date was going.  I told him it could only be better if he had a gun with which I could shoot myself in the foot as an excuse to leave.  As it turns out, he was a cop and did have a gun, but more on that later.  He told me to ditch my date and join his group for a beer.  I wish...

When I returned from the bathroom my date decided that it was his turn and I realized that I had been sitting next to a member from my parent's golf club the entire time.  He turned to me, laughed and asked me how my date was going.  Thanks for the encouragement, buddy!

After what seemed like eons but was really just another half hour, I threw out the old, "Should we get out of here?" cue to leave.  My date quickly took out his bill fold, stuffed to the brim with discount club cards and hundred dollar bills, paid and we left.  With an awkward hug goodbye, he got into his car, dropped the convertible top down (in 50 degree weather because he's THAT awesome) and let me walk to my car alone.  Best. Date. Ever.  (Kidding)

Determined not to let the night suck completely, I hauled my ass back to the bar and sat down in front of the bartender.  He took one look at me and burst out laughing (no surprise).  You know you're on a bad date when the bartender comes up to you after, laughs in your face and buys you a beer.  Sidebar: I love bartenders.  They're freaking awesome.  Some of my favorite people are bartenders. Ok, so that's not 100% true, but I do really like bartenders.  I just have to say they're my favorite people because some of them know more secrets about me than most of my friends. 

While I was making fast friends with the bartender, the cute guy from the bathroom came over, bought me another beer and laughed at me (again, no surprise).  He and his friends had taken bets on how long my Best. Date. Ever. would last.  Apparently, my date was the only who in the bar who didn't realize how bad the date had been.  This was evidenced by the call I received from him 10 minutes after he left asking me out again for the next night.  I respectfully declined.  

I ended up joining the cute cop's table.  He was with a group of friends, all in their 40's, having a "Guy's Night Out" who were happy to have a borderline-inappropriate hot young thang (my words, not theirs) entertain them with my dating horror stories and thoughts on happy ending massages (just say no, because that's gross and you're married, so it's also pathetic).  I spent a couple hours with them and had a blast.  The cute cop from the bathroom was recently divorced and we had a nice time flirting and laughing.

I tend never to be surprised by things that happen in my life.  My family and friends have often said to me, "Something like this would only happen to you"...and it's usually true.  Going on a date with one man and ending up giving my number to someone else, is not what I would call a normal dating story.  Strangely enough, this wasn't the first time it's happened to me, and it probably won't be the last!

Dr. Jackass and the Online Dating Application

Several months ago I was browsing on JDate when I got a "flirt" (the JDate equivalent of a "wink") from a 30-year old medical student ("Dr. Jackass"). His profile was witty and he compared himself to different types of candy bars.  Considering my sweet tooth and love of witty banter, I decided to give him a chance.  Having dating both med students and doctors in the past, I was on the look out for the arrogant God-complex that these types can possess.  However, since he was an older medical student (30, instead of the usual 22-26 years of age), I thought that he might have the wherewithal to be a grounded human being.  

I noticed that Dr. Jackass had his email address in one of his pictures and realized that this meant he was too cheap to invest the $40 a month to become an actual member of JDate.  Undeterred, I emailed him to that effect, "I figured since you flirted with me and gratuitously put your email address in your picture that you're one of those guys who wants to see if there are hot enough girls on JDate to justify $40 for a month subscription.  I guess I took the bait."  He responded and we exchanged a series of emails in which we discussed the perils of online dating.  

We had a "date" set up to talk on the phone and after he flaked, he offered to send me something funny, as a measure of goodwill.  He said it was a dating app that he and his friends and come up with in their spare time.  Curious, I told him to send it over.  I'm not sure what I thought he meant about "dating app" but I certainly wasn't expecting an "Application to Date Dr. Jackass" to pop up on my screen.  Regardless, I read through the application, found it funny but overly exhaustive (and borderline misogynistic) and sent Dr. Jackass a note that stating that he had too much time on his hands (especially for a med student) but that it was entertaining. Dr. Jackass replied only to state, "I was expecting you to answer the app."  Umm, what?!  

Had the application been shorter and less arrogant, it might have been cute, but there was no way I was wasting my time to answer 23 questions for some 30 year old student who had stood me up on a telephone date.  After scoffing at the fact that he expected me to fill out this "application" I emailed him my response:

"Considering the most interesting thing about you is your knowledge of cheap American candy bars and quirky (albeit borderline misogynistic) sense of humor, my answer is: Good luck to you--it's probably for the best that you were too cheap to shell out the $40 for JDate!"

Below is the unedited version of the application Dr. Jackass sent to me:

APPLICATION TO DATE DR. JACKASS

Your name:

Question 1: Highest level of education completed/currently working towards:

a) high school diploma

b) high school equivalency (GED)

c) associates degree

d) bachelors degree

e) master's degree

f) MBA/JD

g) Ph.D./MD/DMD

h) I go to the Vo-Tech, climb under a car, and sleep all day

I) Jay Truck Driving School

j) what's edumacation?

k) When I grow up, I'm going to Bovine University!"

Question 2: How did you find my profile?

a) Accidentally

b) A friend told me

c) An enemy told me

d) I told you about it

e) I can smell your desperation from here

f) God hates me

g) Blind hogs eventually find acorns

Question 3: Why are you filling out this form?:

a) I want to ask you out. HA!

b) No, seriously, I really do want to ask you out

c)I don't want to go on a date with you, but I do want to buy you lots drinks and watch the train wreck develop

d) I'm horribly desperate for anything male, and you fit the bill

e) This is the final stage in a destructive spiral of self-loathing and despair

f) It's either this or jail time

Question 4: Why do you think you want to go out on a date with me?

a) Because I want to go on a date with you.

b) Do I need a reason? Isn't is axiomatic?

c) I want to hitch my wagon to your star, and this is Step 1.

d) You seem interesting

e) I think you'd be fun to get drunk with

f) I feel strangely attracted to you

g) RadioI'm one of those people who can't divert their eyes from accident scenes, and you have that same effect on me

h) I think your caustic and sarcastic exterior belies a sweet and caring inner self

Question 5: What is it that you find most attractive about me?:

a) Your caustic wit and ambitious verve

b) Your cute face and hot body

c) Your constant use of foul, discourteous language

d) The way your immense ego blocks out any real emotional depth

e) You make me laugh

f)  I like how you never use deodorant. Your pheromones are too sexy to cover up

g) Everything

Question 6: When would you like to go out with me?:

a) Whenever

b) When you are available

c) Hey, we're on my schedule here, Date Boy

d) When your heart stops

e) After I pre-maturely finish my date with this loser

f) As soon as I finish gnawing off my left leg

g) After I give my boyfriend a sleeping pilll so I can sneak out

h) How about never? Is never good for you?

i) "This is my sandbox, but I'm not allowed to go in the deep end."

Question 7: How would you rate yourself in terms of your physical attractiveness?:

a) I'm not very attractive

b) I'm cute

c) I'm cute enough for you, wanker

d) I'm hot

e) If you like morbidly obese, cross-eyed fat girls, you'll LOVE me

f)  I'm a New York girl (it means you have a hot body and an ugly face...and don't email me pissed about this. You don't think that 80% of cute women in New York fit this description? Ask any guy you know living in New York. If he's honest, he'll tell you the same thing.)

g) The kids at school used to call out "Baaaby Ruuth" when I would walk by

h) No, really, I don't think you understand: I am UG-LY

i) "Daddy says I'm 'this close' to living in the yard!"

Question 8: How would you rate yourself in terms of your intelligence?:

a) I can read enough to answer this

b) I'm average

c) I'm smart enough to get your stupid jokes

d) I'm a freaking genius

e) I see dead people

f) I can bend things with my mind

g) I like to use lots of exclamation points in my emails!!!! Yippee!!!

h) "Me fail English? That's unpossible."

Question 9: How would you rate yourself in terms of your emotional maturity and stability?:

a) I'm about average

b) I'm pretty sane, but have some minor insecurities and peculiarities, just like everyone

c) I'm very emotionally stable

d) I am a rock

e) I claw at my eyes, trying to get the demons out

f) The doctor says he can't increase my prescriptions anymore or he'd get in trouble

g) Sometimes, the restraints chafe my wrists. Then the festering starts

h) Why do you ask?!? Do you know something!?!? Who have you been talking too?!?

i) They mostly come at night. Mostly

j) "That's where I saw the Leprechaun. He tells me to burn things."

Question 10: What is your most defining feature or characteristic?:

a) My beautiful eyes

b) My sharp wit

c) My compassionate nature

d) My incredible intelligence

e) My huge breasts

f) I have the ass of a 12 year-old girl

g) My sphincter can break a beer bottle

h) My charming autism

i) My colostomy bag

j) My willingness to use sex to get what I want

k) My perfect landing strip

Question 11: What would you expect me to bring on our date?:

a) Cheap flowers

b) Expensive champagne

c) Your A+ game

d)  I like shiny things

e) A unquenchable libido

f) Astroglide

g) A shoehorn

h)Amniotic dysentery

Question 12: What will I do when I see you?:

a) smile

b) drool

c) start jumping up and down yelling "UH, UH, UH"

d) feign epilepsy

e) vomit uncontrollably

f) run like a track star

Question 13: What will my friends say when they see you?:

a) "Wow, Alex is really lucky. I wish I was him."

b) "Another tall, hot blonde with no self-esteem--he's getting laid tonight."

c) "She's the hottest thing since nuclear fusion."

d) "Tonight's forecast calls for scattered clothes, with a significant chance of intense, passionate love making."

e) "My Lord--she smells like the fish market."

f) "I wouldn't call her fat, but he's gonna need the Jaws of Life to get out of this."

g) "She's just an expensive escort. I wonder how much money she cost him."

h) "Look at her...did she just get released from a methadone clinic?"

i) "Her face looks like it caught on fire and someone beat it out with a rake."

Question 14: What should I wear?:

a) Something that says "derelict frat boy," like khakis, a button down and a ratty hat

b) Something that says "I'm a rich, arrogant executive", like a navy Hugo Boss suit and Hermes tie

c) Something that says "I'm Euro-trash, but at least I look good," like black Armani pants and a tight Zegna shirt

d) Something that says "I ain't got me no money," like a burlap sack

e) Something that says "I've been on Cops," like boxer shorts and a stained wife-beater

f) Something that says "ethnic," like a dashiki and a fez

g) Something that says "I really don't care", like flip-flops, old jeans and logo t-shirt

h) Something that says "retro Miami Vice," like a peach colored polo shirt and white suit

i) Whatever you have that's clean

j) Surprise me

k) Nothing at all

Question 15: What will we do on our first date?:

a) Go to dinner and a movie

b) Argue, yell and possibly even fight

c) Get absolutely shit-housed, fucked-in-half, retarded drunk

d) Fuck. What else would we do?

e) None of the above

f) Some strange combination of the above

Question 16: What type of food will we eat, assuming we go to dinner?:

a) Italian

b) Chinese

c) American

d) Southwestern

e) Vegan (yeah…have fun eating alone)

f) Light post-coital snack

g) Who needs to eat if liquor is available?

Question 17: What will we drink? (we will be drinking…or at least I'll be drinking):

a) champagne

b) beer

c) liquor

d) wine

e) wine in a box

f) whatever is cheapest

g) whatever we can steal from homeless people

h) whatever we can make in your bathtub

i) I prefer hard drugs, thank you

Question 18: How much does it take to get you drunk?:

a)The smell of alcohol

b) A few beers

c) A few glasses of wine

d) A six-pack

e) I can out drink an Irish Catholic

f) Ever heard of Motley Crue? I taught them how to party.

g) "Then, the doctor told me that BOTH my eyes were lazy! And that's why it was the best summer ever."

Question 19: What will we talk about on our date?:

a) Me

b) You

c) Sex

d) Sex in public places

e) The sexual foibles of ex's

f)  What that slut at the next table is wearing

h) How much everyone around us sucks

i) The epistemological and metaphysical implications of superstring theory

j) The epistemological and metaphysical implications of us having sex

k) Flannery O'Connor's use of symbolism

l) Herman Melville's use of metaphor

m) Ron Jeremy's use of irony

n) Lots of different things

Question 20: I should compliment you by saying:

a) "You have incredible eyes."

b) "That is the most beautiful smile I've ever seen."

c) "You are a very cool person."

d) "You're ugly, but you intrigue me."

e) "You know, they can fix your cleft lip. Modern medicine has come a long way from the days of just throwing people like you in with the livestock."

f) "That tumor on your forehead really brings out the brown in your eyes."

g) "Did you fart? You farted, didn't you?"

h) "I'd club a baby seal to get a second date with you."

i) "You should be on TV. They use plain looking women too."

Question 21: Finish this sentence: "I like a man that…

a) respects me."

b) worships me."

c) deifies me."

d) likes me more than a sharp stick in the eye."

e) treats me like shit." (be honest…)

f) has spent a healthy amount of time in a maximum-security federal prison."

g) is uglier than me."

h) is dumber than me."

i) won't make fun of my club foot."

Question 22: What will we do after the date?

a) Have Mountain Dew and dessert

b) Run out on the bill

c) Go dancing

d) Have a long and meaningful conversation

e) Throw the dishes on the floor and fuck on the table

f) Go somewhere to be alone, but just cuddle

g) Point out each others shortcomings

h) Groping and pawing each other

i) Why do I have to make all the decisions? I thought you were a fucking man!

Question 23: How will the date end?:

a) Unpleasantly

b) An awkward silence

c) A noncommital hug

d) A sweet, tender kiss

e) Passionate, unbridled, hanging from the chandelier, sex

f) Us planning for another date

g) Me pouring my heart out to you while you record it to put your blog

h) Me cursing you abusively from the safety of my veranda

i) Me calling the cops to get you out of my house

j) One of us waking up in jail without our shoe laces

Pencils down  ;)

Would you have completed this asinine application???

The Reason that Hindsight is Pretty Funny

Today it's been a year.  A year since I made a decision that would change my life.  A year from what I now joke was the best career move I ever could have made.  A year since I moved back in with my parents and once again heard, "This is the first day of the rest of your life".  Today marks a year since I found myself crying in my divorce attorney's office, check in hand and signing a petition for divorce.

If you don't know the story behind the demise of my marriage, ask someone who knows me in real life because I'm not one to air my dirty, discarded, aging laundry.  It doesn't matter though.  I can say that I married the wrong person, the man I married wasn't the man I dated or that things just didn't work out.  I'm sure if you ask my ex, he will tell you a different story.  But really, it just doesn't matter.

Today I find myself a much stronger woman than I ever imagined possible.  Emotionally, physically and spiritually.  Ask my friends and family who were too afraid to tell me about the shell of a person I had become when I was married and see if they can find that woman today.  I've changed from an unemployed, meek and indecisive person who walked on eggshells and never left the house to a successful, go-getting and independent woman.  Not to mention a whisky-drinking, cowboy-chasing hell of a time!  (It's a song, Mom, I'm not an alcoholic!)

I started this blog as a cathartic release when I realized through my divorce, that there are two options in life: you can laugh or you can cry.  Personally, I think laughing is much better.  Aside from toning your abs and keeping your mascara in check, laughing is way more fun than crying.  I wrote a story to this effect in my "About Me" section.  It's about the day I filed for divorce and I will include it here because it's my blog and I can do whatever I want (ha!) but also because it's the story of what happened a year ago today and is the impetus behind this blog.

My GTFO (Get the Eff Out) Story
Last year on June 6,  I left the divorce attorney's office with my mother and went back to my marital home to collect some belongings of mine.  Time was of the essence so I chose only the most important things and quickly packed up the essentials--a few suitcases of clothes, my passports and birth certificate, the boudoir pics I took for my ex (there was no way I was leaving nudie pics in the custody of a pissed off soon-to-be-ex-husband with access to the internet), the diaper cake I had made for my best friend's baby shower that next weekend (I had spent way too much time to leave that behind) and our two boxers.

We took off with suitcases in the trunk, the dogs in the backseat and my mother in the front.  My mother and I were in shock.  I had just filed for divorce, left my husband without him knowing and escaped to my parents house.  We were both scared and crying.  The stress in the car was palpable and the dogs sensed it.

As I was driving down the highway, the 60 pound boxer could take it no longer.  Shaking, he climbed into my mother's lap for comfort.  For those of you who don't know my mother, suffice it to say that she's not a dog person and a 60 lb boxer sitting in her lap while she was crying about the demise of my marriage and uncertainly about my future, was not exactly ideal.  She tried to get him off and to return to the back seat but he was having none of it.  She pushed and coaxed him, but just he sat there shaking and rooted to her lap.

Never one to be left out on the fun, the 30 pound boxer puppy (that the ex and I had gotten a couple months before) jumped up front as well.  She joined her doggy brother on my mother's lap and my mother, in between sobs, tried to now get both dogs off of her lap and into the back seat.  The bigger of the two dogs decided to reposition himself so his front paws were on the passenger floor, giving the puppy some more room on my mother's lap....and my mother a front row seat to his asshole.

In between hysterical sobs, I looked over to see my mother, buried under 90 pounds of dog, with the "brown starfish" of one pooch sticking up at her face and another pup alternating between licking the ass and her face.  I pulled over to the side of the road in an attempt to move the dogs but it was no use. We looked at each other and lost it.  Our tears turned to laughter.  It was the hysterical honking type of laughter where you sound like a seal and look like there's something wrong with you.  There was nothing else we could do but laugh.

I decided then that when things get tough, you can either dwell on the terrible or find something funny about it.  Rather than crying over my divorce with a face covered in snot and mascara I could laugh at my mother sitting with a dog butt in her face--sorry, Mom.  From that day on, I've always chosen the metaphorical dog butt.  I try to laugh, instead of cry, because to me, Hindsight is Pretty Funny.