Well, That Sucks

I honestly can't remember the last time I had an actual crush on an actual guy. I've had plenty of celebrity  crushes, sure, but I haven't met a guy in a long time that I really fell for, you know. And, that was something that I was kind of proud of; I felt like... I don't know... like I was safe. I can't explain it. If I don't crush on some guy, I can't break my own heart because he doesn't know I exist.

Anyway, I goofed.

Remember the nerd squad from my Milton class? Well, I've had a particular thing for one of them since the beginning of the semester, but I didn't really think about it. Sure, I thought he was the cutest. Sure, I'd daydream about him sometimes. Sure, I listened to what he was saying. Sure, I wanted him to notice me. But it wasn't anything more than a slight attraction. Right?

Nope. I realized yesterday when I caught myself really wanting to tell E---- all about him that it was a full blown crush.

Worse, the semester is almost over. Meaning that after the second week of December, I'll probably never see him again. Which sucks. Because I really like him. Ugh. Why did I decide to grow feeling now?

So, I admit that I have a crush on M----, and that I foresee myself needing ice cream to recover. But hey, maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe I'll get the guy for once. Haha. That's so unlikely I can't type it with a straight face. I'll let you know when I start my therapy session with Doctors Ben and Jerry. 

Warning: Angry Word Vomit

I have nothing to share.

Sorry. What can I say? 

My parents are getting divorced. I think I just broke up with one of my friends because I can't deal with the kind of maintenance the relationships requires. I have to write a gajillion papers. Money is tighter than a hipster's pants. I work 950 hours a week.

So, please, tell me when I'm supposed to be looking for Mr. Right? Hell, when am I supposed to look for Mr. Right-Now?

I guess, really, what I'm saying is this: if one more person tells me that I need to put more effort into finding a boyfriend right now in my life, I'm going to go ape-shit.

Yes, I'm single. Yes, I would love to have someone who cares for and supports me that I can, in turn, care for and support. But you know what? That doesn't just jump out of the bushes when you walk down the street. It takes looking to find a guy worth the effort, and right now, time is what I just don't have.

I'm not giving up, my eyes are still peeled. I just needed to vent that because I hate the way people who have never in their lives been totally single with no one at all interested in them think they can tell me (and people like me) that we should just get significant others. As though we can go to Target and pick one up. 

They're people. Not tampons. He has to like me. And I have to like him. It doesn't work one-way. I like Adam Levine. He's not my boyfriend. See how that works?

Oh, and if I happen to be ringing a cute guy up, I don't need anyone standing over my shoulder watching ("helping") so they can tell me what I did wrong. I don't need anyone telling me that I let my future walk out the door, or that he drove away in a BMW with an UoAlabama Alumni tag on it. 

Honestly, yeah, he was cute, but U------ stood there and starred at me, so I already felt super uncomfortable. Then, while he was actually checking out, he didn't make eye contact with me. Not once. That's rude. So, I don't are how many nice cars or degrees he has, if he can't treat a cashier like a person, then I'm in no way interested. 

So, there it is: my super explosion. If you read the whole thing, you should get a cookie. I apologize. I'll go back to just noting random hot guys now.

A Little Flirting on the Clock

As you've probably noticed, I pretty much spend all my time at work. In consequence, most of the interesting interaction I have with the opposite sex occur when I'm on the clock.

One night, a week or so ago, this really cute guy who works at the supermarket behind the pharmacy I work in, came in to buy some cigarettes on his break. He was tall, tan, sandy haired, and blue-eyed with a smooth, sweet smile, so I promptly melted into an awkward puddle of goo.

I smiled at him, and just checked him out as I would anyone else, because, let's face facts, I suck at flirting. So, imagine the way my heart fluttered when he asked me how my night was going, after we were done with our transaction. Be still my beating heart!

We talked for a few minutes, albeit awkwardly, until the old lady who was passive-aggressively looking at the candy bars made things feel really weird. He told me to have a good night, gave me one last smile (to make sure I was good and melted, I'm sure), and walked out the door.

Apparently, forever, because he hasn't been back. At least not on any of my shifts. Which sucks. Because while I suck at flirting, I'd really like to give awkward small talk with him another try.

By the way, his name was S------, on the off chance that I get to write a sequel to this post. (But I never do, so don't hold your breath.)

Shoutout to the Couple with the Lovely Wedding Party

Happy one week anniversary to the couple who got married on August 17, and had a lovely weeding party.

First, one of the bridesmaids came in wearing her bridesmaid dress. While it wasn't to my personal taste, it was pretty, and she looked pretty in it. She was buying condoms because the bride had forgotten to during the pre-wedding shopping trip. That cracked J---- and me up, so we laughed with her and told her to have fun and wish them luck.

Then, maybe fifteen minutes later, the groomsmen all came in looking sharp in their three-piece suits. I think men should always dress like that, because a nice suit makes guys who are just so-so look suddenly sexy. On top of all being cute, they were pleasant and funny.

My favorite was the one worried about the wrinkles in his suit coat. He was the last one out, and the cutest. I told him nobody would be looking at the groomsmen, that they were just there to take up space and keep the groom from bolting, which was funny because I couldn't stop looking at them. Then, we talked about how best he might be able to mix the Coke Zero he was buying with some Jack and sneak it into the wedding. He laughed and joked along, so he gets points for pretending I was witty.

Anyway, congratulations to the happy couple, your friends were really entertaining!

Random Cute Guy Sighting

There's a HEMSI driver that has come in at work to buy a snack on his break a couple of times in the last week or so, and he's a cutie. He's got a sweet smile and a good sense of humor. Just thought you should know.

For the Very First Time

Friday night, for the very first time, I felt like maybe a guy regretted not getting me when he had the chance.

I was at work (when am I not?), and I looked up and saw a guy I recognized from high school, so I said to J----, "Look, I went to high school with that guy," with the intent to fill her in on his reputation for being a druggie after he walked out.

Then, I saw the guy who was with him. J---- (the second guy) had been walking behind C----, so I hadn't seen him at first. You need some background on J----. He also went to high school with us, but he was a couple years older than me. I knew and liked him then because we were in the drama club (Thespian Society) together, and he was really funny. But then, as now, he was sort of in a different subclass than I was and am. Then, he was a wild, super outgoing guy who had a reputation for drinking and doing pot, and I was a quiet, band-geek/drama-nerd, teacher's daughter with a smart mouth if you were standing close enough to hear me. So, we ran in totally different circles.

Anyway, I looked up and saw him, and smiled because I recognized him, and told them both to have a good night. C---- didn't even look at me, but J---- smiled and said, "You, too." Then, he actually looked at me and kind of stopped. He smiled and kept walking, but then when he got past the inner door, he stopped again, and looked back at me. I made eye contact and grinned because I knew he was trying to place who I was in my head.

I guess something clicked, because he got this great big grin on his face, and came back though the door. He said, "Hey, fellow Thespian!" I said hey back, and walked over to where he had stopped by the door that leads behind the counter.

When I stopped in front of him, his eyes when up and down me, and his pupils dilated a little. He gave me an awkward sort of compliment, and the accompanying gesture was one that led me to believe he was really thinking about what it would be like to put his hands on me. Then, he said, "I recognized your voice while I was back there," gesturing toward the pharmacy. "I just heard a familiar voice, and then here you were."

Now, I don't know if that was actually true or not, but I do know that I have a fairly memorable voice, so I won't call bullshit on it.

Then, he said, "I don't know if you want to hug me or not, I been doing some scuzzy work..." He kind of held his arms out and shrugged.

He did look dirty, but I smiled, told him I didn't care, and hugged him. One-armed, but chest-to-chest. I'm lead by some magazine articles to believe that that is a significant detail.

It was a quick hug, and he didn't grope me, or anything. Then, he told me to have a good night and weekend, kind of awkwardly, like he would have liked to stay longer, but C---- had gone outside before J---- had even stopped to talk. But he was looking back the whole time he was walking out.

And I ate it up! I loved the way he looked at me liked something he wanted made me feel. I felt sexy in a way I never have before. And, to be quite honest, even though I'm about 98% sure he was buying Sudafed with which to manufacture meth, I can't say that I would have said no. I mean, I don't think I would have slept with him, but in the mood I was in after the week I had, I definitely wouldn't have turned down a mauling. Hey, he's still a bad boy, and I'm still young enough to want to try that, maybe.

So, that's the story of how I entertained the thought of a torrid make-out session with a druggie. So much for having standards.

Crush-worthy Guy Alert

There's this guy that has a PO Box at the Post Office station in our store, and I think I could really be in danger of having an actual crush on him. He's young, probably late twenties, and nice looking. His hands are rough and usually dirty from work, He owns his own landscaping business. And on top of owning a fairly successful business of his own, he comes from money, so my inner gold-digger is intrigued. Beyond that, though, he seems like a really nice, down-to-earth kind of guy. He's polite and always speaks when he sees one of us that work in the store.

Unfortunately, I've got no idea how to get him talking. I know that once he gets started, getting him to stop is a chore, but I can't get a conversation going. So, I guess I'll just settle for smiling at him everyday and giving him his change. Mine is a pathetic way of life.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Home From the Beach

This is the last story I need to relate about my beach trip. After this, I'll speak of it no more. Maybe. :)

A--- and I drove down in my car (read: I drove, A--- rode) so that there were two cars with us at the beach, and so that I did not have to ride in the car with C------ for six hours. So, naturally, A--- and I came back together.

We decided we were hungry around normal people lunch time, found an exit with several options, and pulled into a Burger King. Our meal was fine, nothing out of the ordinary. I was so hungry that it didn't even matter that I don't like Burger King.

Anyway, we filled up our cups for the road, and walked out into the witheringly hot afternoon. Two BK employees were standing by the door taking a smoke break. One of them started talking to us. He asked how we were, and we said fine. He asked if we were from there, where ever there was, and we said no, so he asked where we were from. I told him Huntsville as I dropped my purse while trying to fish my keys out of it.

"Oh, yeah, up Madison County. Huntsvegas!"

That made me stop and look up because I've never heard anyone not from HSV or the surrounding area call it Huntsvegas. I asked if he was from here, and he said no, but he had some friends up here.

Finally, I got my hands on my keys and the doors unlocked. As we were ducking into the car, the guy said, "So, uh, can I get a phone number, so I can holler at ya when I'm up there?"

A--- slid into the car, and I smiled and said, "Sorry, no."

When I got in, she was laughing. "I wonder if they know their employees are in the parking lot harassing customers on their break."

"We should go through the drive through and tell them," I laughed as we pulled off with the guy still watching us.

So, it's not true that I never get hit on. It is true that I never get hit on by guys that I would actually date.

Love Connection via DrawSomething?

While we were at the beach, A---, B----, C------ (whom I still don't like and hope never to have to deal with again), and I spent a collective total of almost $200 on booze. By Friday night, we had gone through most of it, but still had plenty to fuel one more drunken evening.

A couple hours in, A--- remembered that she had been playing DrawSomething with one of her other friends... two weeks ago. So, she started playing on her phone. One of her opponents told her that she was cute, and she told him she was drunk, so, of course they started flirting.

I'm not sure how long they flirted because my evening ended about an hour earlier than everyone else's because I had to start my three hour long retching-vomiting-dying session.

Anyway, the next morning, while we were making breakfast (I didn't have a hangover mostly because after three hours of throwing up everything but my soul, that would have been karmic-ly unjust), A--- remembered her drunken flirtation, and that he had given her his email.

So, of course, she searched the email on Facebook.

Turns out, he's married. With kids. Classy.

But props to A--- for her close brush with cyber-age romance.

The Cowboy Casa-never

I almost forgot all about this, but you're in luck because I just remembered.

As I've said before, my co-workers have made it their solemn mission to find me a man. This has entailed flirting lesson, styling tips, a field trip to the club, and lots of advice. But one of them has taken it to a whole new level.

Very often, they start sentences with "We saw this guy, and I was like he'd be perfect for Elizabeth..." Now, however, E---- has gotten a little desperate for me. She's started asking guys if they'd be interested in me. And not guys she knows. Guys at work. Customers. Yeah.

So, recently, we were doing a closing shift together, and she said, "I need to tell you what happened the other night."

So, what happened was this: This guy wearing a cowboy hat came in, and for some reason, E---- decided to ask him if he'd be interested in me.

Now, I stopped her at cowboy hat, because there are only two reasons a guy would wear a cowboy hat to a pharmacy (or anywhere really). One, he's actually a cowboy, in which case, fine. Or two, he's a colossal asshole, which doesn't interest me at all. When I asked why she thought he would be a good match for me, she said he "talked kind of smart" and "seemed a little cun-tree." So, from that, I was able to deduce that he was Cowboy Hat Type 2, and knew not to hold my breath for a happy ending to her story.

So, anyway, she apparently said something along the lines of "are you single, because I have this friend--"

And before she finished the question, he snapped, "I don't do that kind of stuff."

Now, I agree that E----'s approach was more than a little clumsy, but seriously, dude? You just got second-hand hit-on (sort of), and you're gonna choose now to prove my Cowboy Hat Hypothesis? A more appropriate response would have been, "I'm flattered, but I'm not interested. Thanks though, crazy lady."

But the part that gets me is "that kind of stuff." What kind of stuff? A blind date? Being second-hand hit-on? Did he think E---- was inviting him to some sort of creepy-random-stranger-orgy? Did he think she was about to pay him to take me on a date then dump pigs' blood on me so that I would end up the star of my very own horror movie? What?

So, anyway, that's the story of another disastrous attempt to find me a date that blew up on the launch pad without ever leaving the ground. All the second-hand rejection is starting to mess with E----'s mind a little. If I don't get a date soon, she's going to start putting ads on craigslist for me, or something, but for me, it's all funny as hell in a depressing, forever alone kind of way.

He got an "A" for effort...

I barely scored passing marks.

Last night, N---- and I were closing together, and at one point we were both on the register. It just worked out that the last guy in my line was cute. Not super cute, but cute in a guy-that-would-make-you-laugh kind of way. He was tall-ish, with blond hair, a cute smile, and a heather-grey t-shirt that said "My [Heart] Belongs to a Zombie" on it.

As I was checking him out, we made small talk (while N---- listened). He had just gotten off work, blah blah blah. It was nice, lots of smiles and eye contact and nervous laughter. Basically, it was flirting. As flirty as I can be, anyway.

When he left, N---- was waiting with a play-by-play. What I did right, what I did wrong. She liked the small talk. He was cute. His game was good. I did pretty well for a beginner. I should have asked where he worked. On and on.

Then, when I said "oh well" because there are no do-overs (I still haven't forgiven myself for the D----- incident), she said, "Uh, yeah there are. It's called another cute guy comes in and you talk to him."

Then, because N---- has some weird clairvoyance or something (seriously, she always schedules my off days on days when it rains!), another guy did come in. He wasn't as cute as the first guy, but still cute, and he was nice. We chatted, and then, I gave him his total, $6.66. He sort of made a joke about it, and I told him that where I used to work, one of the beers, if you bought it by itself, was $6.66. He said, "Did you work at, like, a gas station or something...?" I said, "No, I... well, I used to work in Disney World." He thought that was cool, and asked me couple of things about working there, so we ended up talking for probably five minutes. Which is a lot when you consider that I was just supposed to be ringing him up.

Unfortunately, for me, Sensei N---- wasn't around to grade my progress or give me pointers. But, in my self-assessment, I think I did pretty darn well. I mean, really, I chatted up two guys in one night. That's a lot when you consider I've never done that before, like ever.

I get points for trying, right?

The Way You Flirt, Sir...

...it pisses me off.

Tonight, I worked 11am to almost 10pm. About eight hours into my shift a couple of guys came in They may have been a little older than me, but not much, and they were okay looking guys; you know, not movie stars, but not skeezy or gross. Anyway, I said hello when they walked in, then went about my business.

A few minutes later, the Talker walked up to me and said, "I'm ready to check out, are you ready to check me out?" Like right up in my face. Now, it's true, if my day up 'til then hadn't been quite so stupid, I probably wouldn't have been so bothered by his tone, but today pretty much sucked, so I regret nothing.

I went to the register, and was checking him out, and he just kept asking me things and talking to me in the same tone where I knew he was joking (and probably trying to flirt) but really all he was accomplishing was pissing me off. At one point, he said, "Oh, you don't have to keep calling me 'sir,' you're probably older than me, anyway."

At this point, I feel that I need to interject that I can't even get into rated R movies without every employee in the theatre checking my I.D., so no, I don't look old, asshat. I mean, seriously, how the hell was I supposed to respond to that? After that he asked if I'd had a long day, because "the humor's just not rolling on you the right way." I said that my day had, in fact, been long, that I'd been there since 11 and didn't get off until 9:30.

Then, it was his friend's turn to check out, and the Talker still wouldn't shut up! He said, "This guy [his friend] will smile at you to make you day better. [Friend], smile at her." His friend then said, "Shut up, [Talker's-Real-Name-That-I-Didn't-Catch]," under his breath. That got sort of a derisive snort from me, which was apparently encouragement for the Talker, who then proceeded to celebrate his ability to get any reaction (which, I'll admit, at that point, it was pretty impressive, because usually that deep into a stupid predicament, I'm totally shut down, and not even pay attention to anything but escape) from me at all.

Thankfully, they didn't hang around. That whole story might have ended a lot differently if I had been in better humor, but seriously, dude, your idea of flirting is stuck in the third grade. Teasing and talking down to me is not the quickest way to my heart. In fact, it's pretty damn close to the quickest way to piss me off. So, I have yet again, successfully shut down a guy who might possibly have been interested in me. Fuck my life.

First Major Expedition: Prepwork

As the name suggests, this blog is supposed to be about me chronicling my search for the elusive eligible bachelor. So, finally, I am in the process of planning an actual manhunting outing instead of just wandering through life hoping I trip over a great guy.

My co-workers E---- and N---- along with myself and possibly my friend, A---, will be going out for a night on the town next Friday. To most people, this sounds typical, boring, even, but you have to remember, I drink like once a year, maybe, and I go clubbing... umm, never. So, for me, the prospect of going out with the girls is exciting, verging on terrifying.

So, my first instructions were to find a suitable dress. I started my mission last Thursday in between my exams, and tried on a ton of dresses. The few that I deemed worthy of second opinions were photographed and sent to my sister and E----. That day, I think there was a total of three dresses.

Then, Saturday, K----, my sister, and I were planning to go to the art festival downtown, but first, I wanted to meet up with E---- and see if we could find a dress. We shopped, and shopped, and shopped; seriously, for hours all I did was try on dress after dress. E---- left no dress unturned. Until, finally, we were back to the store where I had found a dress that I really liked when I was looking on Thursday.

I tried it on for them, and what do you know? Both of them (plus N----, who was weighing in her opinion via text) agreed that was the dress. So, now, I have to figure out some shoes and jewelry.

That's the dress. So, anybody got any suggestions for shoes, jewelry, hair, or make-up? 

Promise to keep you up-to-date on this upcoming expedition!

Today Was "The Most"

It was. I thought I was exhausted having not gone to sleep until 3:30 am until I checked facebook and N---- hadn't gotten home from the club until 6 am. That was my first clue that today was just going to be stupid. The two of us do stupid stuff when we aren't dog tired, but both of us dog tired working all day shifts. Go ahead and write it off as a dumbass day.

Then, customers just kept doing stupid shit. One man brought in a floppy disk to see if we could process pictures stored on it. Let me run that by you again. He had a floppy disk. I literally saw it and thought, "What the fuck is that?" That's how long it's been since they've been relevant. And that was one of the more pleasant dumbass moments of the day.

One woman asked me 87 questions. While I was trying to walk through the store to the restroom.
I couldn't remember how to do the morning paperwork.
It took me like four hours to put all the sale signs up in the vitamin section.
A woman asked me a question about phone cards. I told her I didn't know anything about them, that the company I work for doesn't do anything but sell them, and that she would have to call the customer service number on the back of the card. And she still kept asking me about the stupid cards! For half an hour! WTF?!
The some grown-ass men came in and started bouncing the balls that we have in one of those weird bungee cord cage things. It pisses me off when little kids do it. Turns out, it pisses me off more when grown-ass men do it.

But all of that to say that today, during "the most" bizarre day I've had in a while, I am almost certain I checked out D-----, one of the local hockey players. And instead of asking if it was him, or making conversation, or flirting, I stared at him like he had six heads.

What the hell am I doing!? He was cute. He may have been a hockey player. He had epic facial hair. He had a nice voice. And all I did was ask if he had one our cards, give him his total, and tell him to have a great day! All while staring at him with this goofy-ass grin.

Excuse the French I'm using liberally today, but FUCK! No wonder I'm single. I've got about as much game as  a dead sloth.

Honestly, the best thing I can say about the whole thing is that he smiled at me the whole time I was staring at him. I'd love to have a do-over.

Oh, You're Flirting With the Girl at the Pharmacy...

...wonder how your wife would feel about that.

It drives me crazy when married men flirt. You're married!!! I know that our society has pretty much lost all respect for marriage, but just think about what your wife would think if she were there to see you.

On top of that, I'm not interested in a married man. If you're willing to cheat on your wife, then you sure as hell can't be trusted to be faithful to the other woman.

So, just because you call me "Darling" and smile and wink and tease and FLIRT, that doesn't make you any less married or me any more interested. It just makes you an asshat that I'm going to make fun of when you walk away.