New Blog

Hi Anyone who may be reading this...

I started up a new blog:

http://peterpangrewup.blogspot.com/

Look it up, see if you like.

Out of The Game

Hi, anyone who may be reading this.  You may be wondering what happened to me - it's probably top-of-mind, somewhere just below "did I turn off the faucet all the way?" and "I wonder if anyone will notice that I'm wearing two slightly-differently colored socks?"

Well, truth be told- I found someone amazing, and I've been spending a lot of my time with her.  I don't know where it's going, but I do know I'm loving the trip so far.  I will probably shut this blog down and start up another- I'll leave a link when I do!

"Never start a conversation with..." or "CLINGER!!!"

A week after the 4th of July party, I was scheduled to go on my second date with ___.   We had made plans to go to a movie.  Normally, I wouldn't think of going to a movie on a second date because you can't talk to the person.  However, she suggested we see Transformers.  Being a guy who grew up watching those cartoons obsessively, I couldn't resist.  In all seriousness, I was more devastated when Optimus Prime died than when my pet guinea pig, Bandit, went paws up.

The date was scheduled for a Sunday.  I woke up kind of stoked.  I did have a good time the week prior, after all. 

I spent the morning cleaning up the apartment and doing laundry.  I finished around 2:30.  Having about 2 hours to kill before I had to start getting ready for the movie, I was looking for something to do.

A quick glance out the window into a beautiful, bright, sunny Chicago day gave me my answer.  I threw on a pair of board shorts and sunglasses, grabbed a towel and my Kindle, and headed down to the pool.

Opening the gate, I see there are other folks already there.  There's a family at a table in the corner of the patio.  There are four cute girls, broken into 2 pairs.  I set up camp right in between the two.

For the next couple hours, I alternate between reading, dips in the pool, and sneaking glances at the girls in bikinis.  God I love summer.

I glance at my watch and resolve to head back to the room for a shower after the end of the next chapter when I get a text message from my date.

Her: Hey, can I ask you something?

Now, I HATE this question.  First of all, it's not a real question.  It's a warning.  No one ever says "no" to "can I ask you something?", and no one ever wants to answer the REAL question that follows.  Steeling myself, I answer.  From here on out... here's how our conversation went, verbatim:

Me: Sure, go ahead.

Her: OK I know we have only hung out twice, but do you potentially forsee [sic.] us dating down the line?  I know I would want to take things slow with whomever I am with but I also feel like I made the initiative in asking you to do something again and normally I don't have to because it comes from the other person, and I just feel like you said sure because you are a nice guy.

Me:  I think you're overthinking things, ___.  As far as whether we'll date seriously, I can't answer that question because I don't have any idea.
 (Pause)
Me: This sort of question one date in concerns me.

Her: I don't mean seriously, I am just asking if you are interested in me enough to potentially date... I mean dating me not serious relationship... usually people know whether there is potential with someone after hanging out once or twice and again I am not talking serious now.  I mean I don't want to waste your time of mine if you aren't even interested... again I am not talking seriously dating.

Me: I don't even know what to say right now.

Her: I am not trying to scare you or anything I guess I am just looking out for my best interest.  I'm sorry I guess I just say what's on my mind... If I am too forward I'm sorry... I was not meaning seriously dating, just dating... now I feel like an idiot... and maybe we should forego the movie.

Me.: Don't feel like an idiot.  I am a little gun shy talking about the future, especially this quickly.

Her:  I am not talking about future. I am just asking if you are interested in me and getting to know me better... I am not talking serious dating at all so don't think that.  I would think 2 adults would know if there was an interest in one another after one date, not saying anything more than that.

Me:  Are you insulting me now?  What the heck is going on, ____?  I think I will pass on the movie.

Her: No I am not insulting at all... sorry if it came across that way.  I'm sorry I should have never said a word and just let it ride.  I am sorry again... can I have a re-do?  I will not bring any of that stuff up again... I think it came out the wrong way of what I was trying to convey.

So from an opening statement that put me on my guard, to scaring the bejesus out of me by making me think she was a level 5 clinger, to backtracking and appearing to have no conviction (I count 5 "sorry"'s), this poor girl basically talked herself out of a date... and ran me right out of her life. 

I want a woman who is confident, one who doesn't NEED me around, but WANTS me around.  So while I feel bad for her, I'm actually glad she did this, as it kept me from wasting my time... and hers.  She definitely was NOT what I was looking for.

This pretty much opened up my night.  I looked to my right, then looked to my left.  I picked up my phone and walked over to the pair of girls sitting on my left.

"Excuse me, can you explain to me why women are crazy?" 

Heck of an opening line, right?  How'd it turn out?  Well, that's for next post...

4th of July Fireworks

My alarm clock goes off at 10 am on the 4th of July.  DMBs "Ants Marching". 

I went to bed only 5 hours earlier, and opening each eye takes a very serious effort.

Sliding a finger across my phone silences the music and brings up the home screen.  I notice a text message.  It's from one of my PDs on Plenty of Fish. 

Her: Want to go to a party today?

Seeing as how I have no plans and, currently, no barbecue grill...

Me: Maybe.  What kind of party?
Her: Family get-together.

Oh sure, that's just what I want to do for a first date... meet her entire family.  I was about to politely decline, but she must have read my mind. 

Her: Don't worry, my family likes to drink, and they'll be fun.

Ahhh... so it's gonna be THAT kind of party.  I'm down.

Me: Where should I pick you up?

***

At 4 pm, I roll to a stop outside her parents' house.  There are 4 people outside, but none look like my PD.  I shoot her a text to make sure I'm at the right place.

She comes out of the house.  Thank goodness- her photo was accurate... unlike my last date.  Whew.

She hops in the car and directs me to her uncle's house through a twisting, turning path that leads us into the heart of one of the swankiest suburbs around.  Actually... "house" is the wrong word.  "Mansion" is probably more accurrate. 

The house sits on at least a full acre of land.  The landscaping is absurd, and the lawn looks like a putting green at Augusta.

The house is three stories, and it's stone.  100% Custom.  The inside is even more impressive than the outside.  Marble floors (with coil heating underneath, I later learn) and countertops everywhere, a table made out of some crazy Brazilian wood, and I could keep going for an hour. 

We get the tour of the house from her aunt.  From top to bottom, it's jaw-dropping.

Eventually, we are lead out to the backyard, which is just past the hot tub/fountain.  I almost laugh out loud.  Everyone is wearing LaCoste shirts.  No exceptions.  I've never seen so many of those damn alligators in one place.  Everyone is also wearing those white-plaid shorts.  I feel out of place in my cargo shorts and polo shirt. 

The bar is fully stocked, and it's all top shelf liquor.  There are two enormous coolers filled with a vast array of microbrews.

This place, these people... it all just screams OLD MONEY.


Over the next several hours, I meet her family.  ALL of them, including cousins, brothers, sisters, parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents.  Here are some of the highlights:

-Grandfather did the real estate deals on about half of the town.  He is now retired, but spends time as a dance host on cruise ships, doing the foxtrot with other octagenarians
-Cousin just got back from one exotic locale, and was heading to Belgium the next day.
-Uncle was an executive at a company in Connecticut... the company flies him out and back every week.
-Another Uncle worked as a pilot at a major airline for 30 years.  Spent the morning on the golf course where he had a rough day, according to him.  He shot a 79.

I met them all... doctors, lawyers, bankers, oil drillers, entrpreneurs.  It was all sorts of crazy... and then it got a little crazier.

After dinner, eeveryone began drinking in earnest.  My date's brother and the house owner were neck-and-neck for the lamp shade award.

A lady walks through the door... and falls down after slipping on the marble.

The little kids are running around catching fireflies out by the boat house.

My date is getting a little tipsy, and is stealing smooches from me whenever she can.

Someone breaks out a bunch of glowing tubes that people start wrapping around arms, necks, heads, legs, beers, and the dog. 

I shotgun a 20 oz Becks light... with the executive.  In the hot tub.  Twice. 

My date's brother picks up one of her younger cousins and tosses him into the hot tub.  He gets out, and they actually start fighting.  Watching rich people fight is hilarious.  It's like watching an open-hand slapping competition.

The fight ends the night.  The uncle that owns the house starts booting everyone out.

I drive the date home, then head home myself.

So THAT is how the other half lives.... I must say, having just gotten a taste of The Good Life... it wasn't half bad. 

Would you ever...

Once in a great while, the natural order of things is reversed and I RECEIVE an unsolicited message from a woman. 

Rather than my own well-written, personalized notes, these tend to be much shorter and to-the-point.. 

A couple of examples:

"You look like a nice guy.  Message me."
"Good morning.  How are you?"

Oh, to be a woman.  If I could send out notes like this and expect any sort of response, my life would be so much less-stressful.  But that is a discussion for another time.

I received one of these notes last night.  Upon clicking and reading, I spit my Sprite Zero all over my keyboard.  No, that's not a euphemism for anything.  I was drinking a Sprite Zero, watching a movie, and tying to find the love of my life all at the same time.  Gotta multitask these days if you're going to stay ahead.

Anyways, on to the note.  Here's how it read verbatim:

"Are you open to dating a married woman?"

Now my initial thought was to delete the message, run to the bathroom and scrub my web-surfing fingers with bleach, and then try to block it from my mind.  But then I thought... wait, isn't this exactly what your blog is all about?

I took a look at her profile.  Yup, married. Open relationship, likes ponies, long walks on the beach, etc., etc.... oh wait- is "Poly".  What the hell is "Poly"?  I know it means "many", but what about in this context?

Thank goodness for google... and wikipedia.  Poly is actually short for "polyamory", which is, according to the wikipedia post:

"Polyamory (from Greek πολύ [poly, meaning many or several] and Latin amor [love]) is the practice, desire, or acceptance of having more than one intimate relationship at a time with the knowledge and consent of everyone involved."

Curiouser and curiouser...I crafted a quick response asking what one would expect in that type of relationship.

Her response?  It would be just like dating anyone else. 

Ummm... no, it would be the exact opposite of dating somone else, actually.  I send this back, and she comes back and tells me that the only difference is her availability... and that she has to ask her husband if she can go out and play.

We message back and forth a couple more times before I give a polite but firm "Thanks, but no thanks."

Reflection time: Despite what you may think, reading this blog, I'm actually in this to find someone for the long haul.  While I can't fault someone for living a different lifestyle, this polyamory stuff does NOT fit in well with my future plans.  What kind of future can a person have with someone that's already married and plans to stay that way?  I mean, I'm sure it would be fun while it lasted.  But how does the old saying go?  Oh yes... it's like masturbation; it feels good while you're doing it, but you're really just screwing yourself.

Also, even if the person and I were a perfect match, I know myself; I would become jealous, and would end up heartbroken.  Jealousy is a powerful emotion that, given the proper fuel, can become stronger than love.  People do crazy things when overcome by jealousy.

Finally, there is a child involved.  Says so right on her profile.  Enough said.

Quick Aside: When it rains, it pours...stay inside! and One Other Random Musing

This past week or so, I ended up having 4 dates in 8 days, each with a different girl.  My friends think I'm either lucky, paying for it, or a man-whore.  Truth is, this is just an odd occurrence of timing.  This is weeks of messages, emails and texts coming to fruition over one short, glorious period of time.  This was hard work.

It was actually supposed to be five dates.  I was supposed to have coffee with someone today.  I begged off.  I'm fucking exausted.  I sent out a message to a PD about a week ago.  The person read it, then just let it sit there.  I assumed she was just waiting to delete her unwanted advances en masse.  Yesterday, I got a note from her saying, "I'm free for coffee at ___, does that work for you?"

I never want to refuse, but you know what?  It's hard being "up" all the time.  Putting your best foot forward is one thing, but walking on eggshells for 4 out of 8 nights?  I'd rather run a marathon.  In a Batman Suit.  In Phoenix.  In July.  You get the idea.

Don't get me wrong... these dates get to see the real me by the end of the night.  I just find it's better to ease into it.  On the plus side, at least I ease into it in one night rather than over many years.  Doing it slowly like that is just plain wrong. 

We've all seen a relationship where one party or the other (or sometimes both) slowly changes into someone the other person does not like.  If they do it gradually enough, they can get away with it.  It's like cooking a frog.  If the frog starts off in the pot of lukewarm water that's slowly heating up, he won't realize he's boiling (or that he tastes like chicken) until it's too late.  Dump the frog into an already-boiling pot, and he'll do everything he can to fight his way out.  Same principle.

Sorry- went off on a tangent there.  I think instead of being "on" tonight, I'm going to go sit a poker table in a casino somewhere.  I can put on sunglasses, throw on my iPod, and think about nothing but playing cards for hours and hours.  The only thing I want to be "up" tonight is my chip stack.

"Bait and Switch" or "Why I Fired my Love Coach"

I like a girl with a good body.  There, I said it.  Does that make me shallow?  I don't really care.  I keep myself in good shape through hard work, and I'm looking for someone who does the same.  Besides, not having a physical attraction to your sig other is a recipe for disaster.

Most online dating sites have a "Body Type" section, but the majority of girls just select "Average", "Curvy", or "A Few Extra Pounds". 

You see every body type fall into this range.  There may be an anorexic woman who has selected "A Few Extra Pounds".  You might find a morbidly obese girl that has just "Curvy", when they should be searching for the "Round" option.  And there will be a modest 34-24-34 who selects "Average".  Basically, what I'm saying is that you can't trust the body description.

Therefore, profile pictures are the only way to get an idea of what a potential date looks like.  For this particular date, the profile pictures looked pretty decent.  The gal had great hair, a decent smile, a nice tan, and a full-length self-shot that showed off a fairly trim body.  I'd guess she was probably a size 6-8.

We did the usual online message, then text, then agree to meet for drinks.  There was a little flirting that suggested there may be a happy ending to the night.

This happened over the space of a week and a half, and there was another week before our date.  This is when things started to get strange.

I can't really put my finger on what was giving me the willies.  There was nothing specific, I just got a really odd vibe from this PD (potential date).

I brought this up to my Love Coach.  Yes, a Love Coach... actually, I have two (and I'm going to throw in that both are superhot- I actually dated one in high school and I asked the other one out once-she turned me down, but nicely). 

I take their advice because I trust their judgement more than my own when it comes to dating.  Why shouldn't I, really?

I talked to the one I dated first.  Our online Instant Messenger session went something like this (and I'm paraphrasing):

Me: I'm thinking about cancelling my date.
LC: Why on earth would you do that?
Me: I don't know- something feels off.
LC:  You're trying to sabotage this thing before it even starts.  Give it a chance.
Me:  OK, I'm going to trust you instead of my instincts.  I have to assume you have my best interest at heart.
LC:  I do.  Have a great time!
Me:  Will do- want to find a supply closet for a quickie?
LC:  Sure!
Me:  Really??!!! :D
LC:  No, go fck yourself
Me: :-(
I had a similar conversation with the other LC, but for this one, I wouldn't try the last five lines.  She's a bit more... cosmopolitan.  Plus, I don't have a history with her, so I can't get away with that sort of shit.

So Thursday night, post-haircut, I found myself getting ready for my date.  No work the next day for either of us, so we agreed to meet for drinks. 

Random aside... never agree to meet for drinks- no one ever has just one adult beverage, and if you don't like the person, you're stuck with them- do something with a very finite and short timeline, like a cup of coffee.

I had asked my PD what to wear, and she insisted on jeans, a t-shirt and "flippy-flops".  An adult woman acting like a child is not attractive to me.  I almost called it off again, but I had promised my Love Coaches to give it a shot.

She insisted on meeting in her hometown, which was a solid 35 minute drive away.  I had suggested a place about halfway in between, but she informed me that she wasn't going to drive "All the way out there."  If we hit it off, I had a feeling I was going to be putting some miles on the car.

I sent her a text informing her I was about to leave, per her instructions.  She immediately texted back, insisting we talk on the phone before we meet.  This having not been part of anything we discussed, I again felt that tug of unease.  I called her. 

"Is this YOU?" her voice was high, reedy, girly.  Sort of like Jennifer Tilly without the hint of sexiness.
"Sure is- you getting ready?"  I realized I had no idea what to say.  I should have waited five minutes and planned something out.
"Are you really asking me what I'm WEARING?"
"No, I was asking if you're getting ready."
"Oh.... yes.  Are you leaving?"
"I left already, on my way- it's a hike." Before you worry about my safety, I use a Bluetooth built into my car dashboard.  It's awesome.
"Are you saying I'm not worth the drive?"  At this point, she's pissed me off.  I decide to get a little snippy, just to cut off the BS.
"I have no idea what you're worth- I haven't met you yet.  Gas IS getting pretty expensive though."
Click

Yep, that's right- got hung up on during our first call.  Didn't bode well for a future relationship.

I continued on to the bar.  Sent a text to the date saying "I'm here.  If you care to join me, fine." 

Sat down, ordered a beer- this place had about 500 choices, so I had the bartender pick out an IPA.  It was delicious. 

I was actually kind of enjoying the pleasant atmosphere, when...

"Why did you hang up on me?"  There was that reedy, girlish little voice again.  I turned around.  The owner was neither girlish, nor little.

Standing in front of me, swathed in black and leopard print accents, was a very, very large woman.  Body type comparable to... Grimace, from McDonalds.

And the smell... my God, the smell.  Rotting flowers and baby powder.

Deciding not to be completely shallow, I figure I'll wait and see what she's all about.  I pull out her chair and ask her what I can get her.  She orders some sort of blueberry-flavored beer.  Figures.

We sit and drink for a bit.  She immediately brings up Religion, which is my least favorite topic.  Things are not looking up.  I slam my beer and order another.  And another.  Things don't get better, they just keep going.

This girl is not attractive, she smells funny, she's talking about shit I have zero interest in, and her tights (that's right, she wore tights on a first date) have holes in them. 

She asks if I'll go with her to a karaoke bar down the street.  She starts serenading me.  I agree to go, hoping that will make her stop.  She shuts up and I'm happier.  I pay the tab and leave.

We walk to the other bar.  She keeps accidentally-on-purpose running into me, mashing her not-inconsiderable boobs into my arm.  I want a tetanus shot.

When we get there, I almost turn around.  There are MAYBE ten other people in the place.

We sit at the bar, and immediately Grimace begins peppering the bartender with questions about karaoke.  The bartender looks at her with annoyance.  She gives me a questioning glance, which quickly turns to pity. 

Grimace goes up to select a song.  She claps and cheers wildly for/at the poor girl on the stage, who was having a good time up until that point.

The mood in the bar has gone from quiet yet upbeat to subdued and edgy.

Having made her selection, Grimace sits back down.  She orders food.  A lot of food.  She makes me order food.  I tell her I don't want to eat.  I watch my calories.  She orders food for me, to go. 

The bartender hints that the kitchen closes in 5 minutes.  Grimace is glad that they're still open.  The bartender hates Grimace.  The kitchen staff hates Grimace.  I am just embarrassed to be there.

Grimace goes to the bathroom to "warm up" for her performance.  I apologize to the bartender about the food- I pay the bill and give her a hefty tip.  The bartender brings me a shot of Jaeger, on the house.  I notice that the bartender is cute. 

Grimace comes back starts to sing "Like a Virgin"... poorly.  The bartender remarks that it's a good song choice for her.  She tells me there's a backdoor by the bathroom.  I laugh.  I wonder if the bartender is single.

I smile politely at Grimace, who hops off the stage and starts making her way to the other table to serenade them.  Suddenly everyone there becomes really interested in what may be floating in their beer.

Grimace finishes.  Mercifully.  No one claps.  She comes back to the barstool and sits down.  She's pissed I didn't clap for her.  I tell her I'm shy. 

She tries to kiss me.  I back off. 

I tell her I'm really tired and that I think I should be leaving.  Here comes the quote of the night in 3, 2, 1...

"Why don't you come home with me instead?  You can choke me like I've been a baaaaad girl."

I do choke, on my last gulp of beer. She pulls her shirt down, exposing her bra.

"That sounds nice.  Let me hit the restroom before we go."  I walk to the back of the bar and out the door.  I run (sprint) to my car.  I throw it into gear and I'm on my way. 

I stop about 5 miles away at a coffee shop.  I go inside and grab a black coffee and a table.  I'm pretty sober, but I want to be sure I don't get a DUI.

As I sit there, I block Grimace from my phone.  Then I send a text message to my Love Coach, telling her what happened.  I tell her she's fired.  I don't have my other Love Coach's phone number, so I can't fire her ass until I get back to work on Tuesday.

I post a note on Facebook, intentionally vague so only my true friends will know what happened.

I finish my coffee and leave the bar.  I go home, take two showers, and fall asleep.