oh yes I will use you for your condo

It's been almost a year since I met one of my favorite bar stars. We met during a costume party...at a bar (i mean really, where else would I meet someone of this d-bag caliber?) He was dressed as (hint: the most creative male costume known to man)... a well endowed athlete. Yes, he had big socks placed inconspicuously (or maybe not so inconspicuously). I believe I punched his socks as he walked by and that is how we got to where we are today. That and the fact that he played baseball at an ivy league school and had a phat condo.

I got ditched the night I met sock boy. He and his friends were kind enough to wait outside with me while I got a cab. A few short text messages later, I realized we were about to text our way to love. It became a weekend event. One of us would text the other and we would meet up while out on the town. If he rolled the dice right, which he usually did since his tab was ALWAYS open, then I would go back to his place for a night cap. The first time we walked (yes folks, we're responsible) back to his condo, upon realizing where we were going, I said "you seriously live at such and such?" and he said "you will not be using me for my condo." I replied with "oh, I most certainly will." We had several fun after parties of two at his audacious (does that word even fit?) condo with spectacular views.

My favorite after party was the night he called and said he was sweaty and needed to come over. I lived in a condo about 12 blocks away from his, but four blocks from the 80's club. I had just gotten home from a holiday party with yet another winner and the thought of sock boy was invigorating (still is, actually). Sock boy showed up, drenched in sweat from head to toe. It was almost Christmas and freezing outside. I asked him why he was so sweaty and he said "I have been pumping my fist for three hours." Of course you have, sock boy. You WERE at the 80's club, after all. Sock boy comes inside, removes his construction worker boots and blue jeans, climbs into bed and passes out. The next morning, he wakes up, asks me how he got there and then wants to know why his jeans are wet. I DO NOT KNOW. you said you were PUMPING your fist for THREE hours. Maybe your testicle implants leaked? You got me, buddy.

I stopped making a habit out of sock boy after that episode. It just got weird. Plus, by this time, I had a crush on sock boy. but true to the rules of dooshbaggery, he could never actually call me to take me on a date - he just would make empty promises of taking me to dinner. he was a master dooshbag artist. He would text me just enough to keep me intrigued, and call spontaneously enough to keep me thinking he had a crush of his own. Every now and then I still get a text or a facebook message from him. He also drunk dialed me and told me he missed me and he needed me. I also have a hilarious picture of his BICEP that he texted me one night. The last time I saw sock boy was the last time I went out alone (those always seem to be the craziest nights). He wanted me to come to the bar with the outside patio. I went because the tomato farmer was at the same bar and also wanted me to come by. I knew it would cause a ruckus. I made sock boy walk me back to my car, we kissed, and that was it.

Sock boy never really disappears though. He called me the other day from his work phone to say hi and to tell me he was going to take me to dinner after his vacation. He's been back from vacation for a week and I've heard nothing. Which is fine. He's a sweet guy, really smart, really sexy, but he's also the same kind of guy who dresses up as a well endowed athlete and plays poker 6 days a week. Sock boy is the kind of guy that is so hard to let go of but you know you should.

You can't change a dooshbag, not matter how much you really believe they don't want to be a dooshbag. I guess it isn't fair to call sock boy a doosh. He's a tool. He can't help it. It's the way boys are these days. At least he's a sweet tool. And costume season is quickly approaching...perhaps I should go to a party at the 80's club?

I've been reflecting on the last year and a half of my life, and I've realized a lot of things. Things about life, growing up, compassion, honesty and love. Things about what I want out of life. And what I want in a companion. I use the term husband flippantly. The girls and I will be getting decked out for an event and I will say "let's go meet our husbands, girls!" or I will meet someone and say "he is not my husband" or "there's a good chance he's my husband." It's all in fun, but I think about the poor schmucks we meet along the way and how we've analyzed them until there is nothing left, and there is no chance on the planet that they could ever be our husbands.

I lost control the minute I got off the chair lift and spent a year crashing down the black diamond before landing in a heap at the bottom, appendages going in all directions. It's funny how much you learn about yourself, and what you want out of life, and out of a companion, while crashing into trees, losing your poles, breaking your skis, and forgetting to zip up your fleece. ok, ENOUGH with the ski analogies.

seriously though, i've been learning a lot about things in general. like the fact that i HATE punctuation. i think the term son of a bitch is under rated. and mixed CDs are never a bad thing. and the fact that i have a LONG long long list of d-bags that i need to catch my blog friends up on. I better get to work. there are only a few more days before the next round of tool boxing commences.

I know I called you, but WHO are you?

Awhile back, my girlfriends and I rented a cabin in the mountains and enjoyed a relaxing weekend of debauchery and tomfoolery (I just had to use both words in one sentence). We met some funny people along the way, including one who lived in the same town we live in. I got his number, he got mine, and we went along our merry ways.

Several months, yes months, later, while on a bar crawl and looking through my phone, I realized I had the number of someone I did not know. I actually thought it was the number of a friend by the same name. I called, looking for my friend of the same name, only to discover it was the guy from the mountain bar. We agreed to meet up. And we did. And it was fun. We started hanging out regularly, and every time we were together, the same thought ran through my mind..."this guy could be my best friend."

At the same time I was hanging out with this guy, I was involved with some event planning that was taking up a lot of my time and energy. He lost his cool and he lost me. It was a shame too, because he was a good guy and had such a great sense of humor and seemed to really believe in southern charm, hospitality and chivalry.

Every now and again, he'll cross my mind and I will laugh. Although we didn't spend much time together, we did get to know each other pretty well. But then I think about how we met - at a mountain bar and the fact that I had to call him to find out who he was in order to actually meet him. And that makes me laugh harder.

YOU won't go home with ME?

So, MY night last night was interesting. I had this event for a charity I am involved with to raise money for research and camp for the kids. Professional athletes come and have dinner with some of the kids and then hang out the rest of the night. I spent most of my time chit chatting with a guy named Jerry. This tall guy walks in and people start talking to him so Jerry says "that's So-So. He's a pro water skier. This is like his 7th yr doing this." So-So comes over and introduces himself to me and starts putting on the charm. Jerry brings me shrimp and whispers in my ear "every year he meets someone and leaves with them. don't ditch me for him." So-So is cute but he's not super hot, not a bag of chips, and definitely should not be using disabled children as a way to meet women.

He is flirting BIG time and then tells me he wants me to go to the after party with him at the super exclusive club down the street. I mean, this club is private and stays open until 4 in the morning. They only serve chilled glass bottled water (if you order water, that is). I agree to go, thus ditching Jerry. SoSo and I smoke the hookah and the next thing I know, we're surrounded by cougars. I told him if he kept flirting with them I was going to leave because I didn't know anyone else there. SoSo shifts his focus back to me and it's not long before he says, "are you going to go home with me?" I reply no, to which he retorts, "you won't go home with ME?" (as though he cannot believe some low life like me would turn HIM down). So he calls his phone from my phone so he'll "have my number" and tells me how he isn't the kind of guy who takes a girl home and then doesn't call. I say, "right, until you need a hook up again when you're back in town." SoSo then gets on his soapbox about me being a cock blocker and a tease. It's past the cougars bedtime by this point so as they are gathering their belongings, the most unattractive of the bunch turns to SoSo and demands he come home with her. He turns to me and says "Are you coming home with me or not?" I go "nope." SoSo stands up, says, "That's it. I'm outta here." and he leaves with the cougar!!!!

I wasn't about to smoke the hookah alone so I went home. I txt him and said "you're officially an asshole" and go to bed. This morning, I get a text back from SoSo that says "and you're crazy." He then proceeds to text me how he really likes me and wants to get to know me better and wishes last night had turned out differently. He said he couldn't have me and it was driving him crazy so he had to leave. I reply with a tart, "Hope the cougar showed you a good time" text. His response was classic: "Nothing happened. She got sick."

I can't help thinking how hilarious karma can be.

Dinner with Superman

So, I have a date tonight with a foreign man. I'm not really sure how this is going to turn out. First off, we met at a BAR. Yes, a BAR. I mean, I know a lot of people meet in bars these days (shoot, I meet lots of people in bars. Who am I kidding.) But, in the words of a man I respect, "who really says they meet at the bar and 50 years later they are still together?"

He was wearing a Superman shirt. I saw him come in, thought he was cute, so I smiled and said "hey superman." He of course LOVED that. We started chatting and I realized he was not from America. His accent was not Southern (perferable), Yankee-ish or anything else. Come to find out he is Lithuanian. Eastern European. I had thoughts of Borat running through my head while we talked (I wonder if his wife is dead? And he hands out high fives everywhere?). He's a basketball player at a local college and plans to attend med school in the fall. So he's smart. And he's cute. And he has an accent. Things are looking pretty good.

Except he's young. He's in college. He isn't an American citizen. I'm sure we don't share the same political views. He doesn't even have an American driver's license. We'll probably get pulled over on our way to dinner. But he called today to make sure we were still on for our date. That was cute. My girlfriends and I have plans to meet up later for a drink, so I will bring him along, if he's normal. There's NO telling what he'll be like since we met in a bar. If he's not normal, I will ditch him and txt message the mute guy I picked up the same weekend. In a different bar.