Seriously? Is It Just Me…

Archive for the ‘Bad Dates’ Category

Some people would say I tend to get my feathers ruffled easily over lots of things, but there is one act that makes my blood boil more than anything else. People who show up late!

Now, I’m a high maintenance woman with no shame in my game. I know it takes me about 45 minutes to an hour to get dressed, even more time if it’s a date. I also know my way around town, so I have a good idea how long it takes me to get someplace. So when a guy asks me out, and suggests that we meet for dinner around 7pm, I start doing some math. How long will it take me to get there? How long to find an outfit? How long will it take me to do my hair? And then I start getting ready with enough time for outfit changes, hair issues and traffic. As a result, I show up on time! Simple enough?

So why do I find myself constantly waiting on some guy to grace me with his presence? I’m not talking 5 minutes, or even 10 minutes late. These dudes are averaging between 20 and 40 minutes in wasting my time. Why does this keep happening to me? Don’t they understand that showing up late just sets the whole evening off on the wrong foot. If he doesn’t care enough to be on time, then he clearly doesn’t respect me or my time. That’s a problem. Has no one ever told these men that you should never keep a lady waiting, seriously?

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Mika Soapbox: “Cooking” for a date is not sweet…especially when you know you are no Emeril!

Why this continues to happen to me I have no idea, but I seem to end up on a second date with a guy who swears he can cook and wants to show me his “skills”. What kills me is that there are so many great restaurants in the area, if your skills are weak why risk it this early in the game? Below are two menus I had to endure from guys who swore they could cook:

1. Spaghetti with Ragu Sauce (One Pot Style) – I’m a Prego girl so it was disappointing to see the Ragu bottle on the counter, even worse when I realized it wasn’t even the chunky kind. He would have done better to just open a can of Chef Boyardee. So I politely asked if there was a salad or bread to accompany the meal. To which I was informed that there was some Wonder Bread available and would I like a slice. Um, no thanks. Then my beverage recommendation was Arbor Mist White Zinfandel, to which I cringed but endured since I didn’t know any better at the time.

2. Overly Baked Chicken Tenders (yes, the cheap anemic grisly cuts) with frozen broccoli cooked to a pulp, Stovetop stuffing and a previously frozen biscuit. Um, okay…at least wine will help me get this down. So I politely asked what are we drinking to accompany this fine meal? To which I was offered water – with or without ice – from the fridge. Good thing we prayed over the meal first, who knows how else I would have got through that meal.

So here’s my point. Guys that can cook are sexy and if I can find me one of those I will be forever grateful. However, these poor guys who think it’s romantic to try and cook for a girl they barely know to impress her are going about it all wrong. My Advice: Save the cooking attempts for when she loves you and thinks your efforts are cute instead of painful. Seriously.

When I was much younger I used to love me a ruffneck aka a boy from the hood. I think I was attracted to the fact that they had seen and experienced so much more than I had and that drew me towards them. However, now that I’m older being asked out by one of these guys should raise all kinds of red flags. But, not so much for me, as little over a year ago I found myself going out with an absolutely adorable young guy from the streets and I chose to ignore all of the following warning signs. 

1. He was 22. Okay, usually I don’t have a problem with being a cougar, but this kid spoke with all the latest slang and lingo that conversations with him resulted in me saying “What” more often than “Word”. But he was so cute, and I figured who needs quality conversation?

2. He had no assets. No car…no home…no education but hey most kids that age haven’t established themselves yet. The only challenge I saw in this was that I had to wait around all night for him to get permission to use his mom’s car. But he really liked me, and he was so adorable.

3. He was a former drug dealer. Former being the word I chose to cling to in my state of denial. Beside I thought it was great that he was getting his life back on track. Actually, I was feeling a bit lonely, he did really like me, and did I mention how cute he was?

4. He had been stabbed. Back in the day, the story behind how he was attacked would have intrigued me but now I was more concerned about his recovery process and the after effects. Okay, so my hormones were raging, I was lonely, he liked me, and he had a nice body despite the huge scar.

5. He was terrible in bed. Now that I’m older my expectations are much higher and I’m done training the children how to please a woman. I want my partner to show “me” something instead I was laying there feeling sorry for poor girl he somehow managed to impregnate (oh yeah, he had a kid). Well, apparently looks aren’t everything.

So I finally had enough and decided to part ways with my baby thug. Of course, he didn’t take it well, called me a few names, and had me wondering if he might send someone to “take care” of me. But he managed it get past the rejection and we ended it amicably. 

You know, the older you get, the harder it is to date especially when you get lonely, your hormones start raging, and you end up finding yourself ignoring every warning sign just for a minute of companionship. I wish someone would invent a a Single Sanity pill just for these desperate situations, seriously!

Yes, I am a sucker for accents – British, Irish, Italian – doesn’t matter, just talk to me! Well a couple of years ago Mika and I were enjoying some wine and one anothers company (imagine that, we were together). We were talking about men, and I could tell this tall, blonde man was listening to us – well he finally came up and sat down and his name was “Cowell” and he was from England. Well Cowell and I proceeded to date for a few mos.

He was very articulate, witty – Professor at a prominent Nashville University – had a great time…except for a few things:

1. his Hoarding – do you ever see those shows on TV where they have those crazy women that hoard everything and you go – “I can’t believe people live like that” – well they do and he was proof of it – I think he kept EVERYTHING

2. His CATS – I am not a cat person and he had TWO – count them TWO – and he let them sleep with us – GROSS – CAT HAIR EVERYWHERE – (needless to say – we stayed at my house alot)

3. He was not circumcised – I know that this is a controversial topic for a lot – do you snip or leave it the way it is – well honestly, call me “old-school”, but I’m just not into the EXTRA. No, I am not a member of H.O.O.P. (Hands Off Our Penis) – he thought it was the coolest thing ever (we actually had lengthy discussions about it) but me NOT SO MUCH

Well, I guess I learned some new things about myself. I learned that I want a man that is CLEAN, DOGS ONLY and has had his FORESKIN removed – I don’t think that is too much to ask for….SERIOUSLY.

Picture this – I’m on a blind date with an attractive, successful guy in his mid to late 30’s. We are at Starbucks (I heart Starbucks) where I am enjoying a mocha frappucino and he’s drinking….water. Anyway, we are peppering each other with the usual first date questions with the awkward pauses in between each. Where are you from?…Where did you go to school?…What do you do for a living? But then his next question catches me off guard, “What’s your favorite color?” As I choke on my frappucino, I’m thinking seriously, this grown (beep) man is not asking me my favorite color. I collect my composure and say, “uumm, red.” After a long pause, he says slowly and with a long southern drawl, “Yeeaaahhh….I like red too.”

I think the last time someone asked me that I was like, what five. Seriously?

A couple of months ago I started dating a man that had two boys that lived with him most of the time – and most of you know, I am not a KID person – so this was a stretch for me. The first time I went to his house for a romantic dinner it turned into a nightmare. The kids were suddenly dropped off by their mother 5 minutes before I arrived – found that out when I rang the doorbell. I told him that I could leave and we could do this another night – but he said “well you have to meet them eventually”. I went in smiling – BIG MISTAKE.

The boys Five & Eight were WILD – and I know I am not use to boys, but they were literally running around the house – hitting each other – one even head-butted me in the stomach (and like an idiot I just kept smiling – oh how I TRIED). After a very long dinner – where the 5 year old got under the table and hit me on the shin, I was going to feign a headache and leave – but the 8 year old was beginning to grow on me and asked if I wanted to play a game. Again, I stupidly said YES.

Well we played the game SORRY – been a while but you can basically screw your opponent over and send them back to homebase. Keep in mind that I am not the type of person to let kids win – just because they are kids – and I was kicking their little butts! The 5 year old got under the table again after I kept beating him and refused to play anymore – I was sure he was going to bite me or something. The 8 year old thought that beating his little brother was the funniest thing until I started beating him too. I immediately sent two of his pieces back and he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said “I don’t like you and don’t want you to be my mom” – HOLY COW – I calmly replied, “I don’t want to be your mother, I just want to beat you at SORRY and I guess I am getting what I want”. Meanwhile, my date was mortified (as he should be).  We broke up shortly after this evening.

I guess this just reiterates the facts that kids are just not my thing…unless it is my own….SERIOUSLY!

It’s happened to all of us at some point, we go out with someone we randomly met in a bar, or were set up with on a blind date, but halfway through dinner you realize that this person isn’t the one for whatever reason.

Of course, when this would happen to me, I would promptly delete his number from my cell phone and begin my search for the next guy. But without fail a few months later, my phone would ring and display a number I was unfamiliar with. Then my wishful thinking would kick in and I would hope or pray that it was possibly an old flame with a new cell number or maybe that new guy I was set up with by one of my friends. “Hello” I would say anticipating the voice on the other end. “Hey Mika, remember me, it’s (insert random name here)”. Crap I think, it’s that guy I thought I had hoped to never hear from again. Now I’m trapped exchanging niceities and being cornered into the “how about we get a drink and catch up” question. If I had just saved his number then I could have properly screened his call and have avoided this uncomfortable conversation.

Well, now that I’ve learned to not delete those “beware of” numbers from my phone, I’m finding myself having to scroll through all my bad dates to find my friends. Which at one point was manageable, but now I think I have more bad date numbers than friends. Seriously?


Soapbox Diaries from an Unplanned Single Life!

I hope you enjoy the random thoughts, observations and life lessons that I've learned along the way. It's called Seriously? because some days I just shake my head and say seriously, is this my life?


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