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.)

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 Second First Date

Well, my date with R----- was... nice? He was sweet and cute, but there wasn't a lot of connection there, maybe. Or maybe we were both nervous and incapable of holding conversation.

We had agreed to meet at BridgeStreet which is this sort of classy outdoor mall with European style architecture (it's really pretentious, now that I think about it.) at 4 on Wednesday. So, of course, it was storming at 4 on Wednesday. He brought an umbrella, though, and proceeded to hold it over both of us any time we were outside.

Dinner was ok. We ate at Red Robin, and talked awkwardly about our jobs, what we think of the area, and sports. He works logistics for the army, thinks HSV is a kind of boring city made up of mostly married people, and loves baseball and thinks hockey's boring. I work retail, think HSV is boring as hell no matter what your relationship status is, and freaking love hockey and hate baseball with an unnatural passion. Also, he is Puerto Rican, which is really neither here nor there for me on the attractiveness scale, but it reminded me of FL, so it was nice to hear his accent.

After dinner, we checked the showtimes at the movie theatre, but nothing was showing until late. He mentioned renting a Redbox movie, but I stepped around that because he's a guy I met on the internet and know nothing about, like hell am I going to his house. So, we went to sit in the bookstore and talk. Would have been a great idea, except we had already talked about everything at dinner.

So, after another half hour of awkward conversation, he said that BridgeStreet was really boring, and I said that I should probably get home since there was a flash flood warning for the county I live in. It was true, the radio had said so before I met him, but there's always a flash flood warning for my county when it rains, so it was really no big deal. I was just totally out of things to talk about and a little tired of hearing about the clubs in different cities that he likes.

He texted me to make sure I got home safe and to say it was nice to meet me. Then, a few hours later, I got a text with a picture of him in it like the kind that guys put on dating sites, you know, of themselves in front of the bathroom mirror dressed well for no apparent reason. It was a group message, and I sent a question mark back because I had clue what that was for. He said that it sent itself, but it was a little odd.

After that, he hasn't made contact until today, he sent me a picture of the beach in Destin. But again, it's a group message that I'm was meant for me. How do I respond to that?

So, to sum up, he was sweet, nice, cute, and there wasn't anything really wrong with him, but I just don't think we clicked. It was still infinitely better than the date with S----, who has texted me several times since our "date." So, I'm hopeful. I mean, if the next date (whenever that may be) is infinitely better than my date with R-----, then, I'll probably end up married to maybe the fifth guy I ever go on a date with. That's assuming that the dates continue to track upward at a constant level, of course.

Tonight, I Almost Got My Very Own Episode of Dateline

A lot has happened since last night's heart-to-heart with U------. This other guy on OkCupid starting instant messaging me, and then asked me out. For tonight. At 7.

When we first started talking, I asked him what hockey team he was a fan of, because he said he was a hockey fan. He said Detroit and Pittsburgh. That was almost a deal breaker, but I decided that that would be really shallow. So, we kept talking, and he was really enthusiastic.

When I said I needed to go, he asked me if I wanted to go out tonight. I said sure, because why the Hell not, right?

So, I went into mega-last-minute-get-your-ass-ready-for-a-first-date-mode. But S----, the guy, wouldn't stop texting me! If I didn't respond to his message, he would send me another one every few minutes. This started driving me crazy because, really, that's unnecessary. Finally, I told him I was leaving to meet him so he would stop texting me.

I drove to this restaurant and arrive at like 7:02, and I texted him to see where he was. He texted back that he was at home, and he would be there as soon as he could. This kind of pissed me off, but maybe he lived around the corner, what did I know?

At 7:30, I was on the verge of turning around and coming home. Then, he finally texts me that he was there. I told him I would meet him at the door. He walks up to me after a couple of minutes and just stared at me.

I said, "Hi, are you S----?"
He said, "Yes."
"I'm E--------, nice to meet you."
"Hi."

Then, I opened the door for him, and he told the hostess that there were two of us without looking at me. They seated us, and as we were sitting down, he goes, "So, is there anything else I need to know about you?" At this point, I'd like to take the opportunity to describe him. He was like 5'6" and weighed about 80lbs. His pictures had to be at least five years old, and there's no way he's only 24. What hair he had was long-ish and greasy, and he was wearing a Sheldon Cooper shirt. And, the second I saw him, every nerve in my body started screaming "Danger! Danger! Serial Killer! Run!"

So, when he asked if there was anything he needed to know about me I said, "No," and pulled my phone out into my lap and texted A--- "Omfg! SOS!"

While I was waiting for my saving grace, he just started chuckling manically under his breath. A--- texted back to see if I really needed her to call, and instead of properly answering her, I sent "Just call!"

While I waited for that, he stared at me and asked if I knew what I wanted to eat, and told me that he had just finished watching The Big Bang Theory. By the time A--- called and told me she was in a wreck, I was like shaking. So, as soon I got off the phone, I word vomited the excuse and bolted. Which, by the way, is pretty much exactly the way I would react if she were really in a wreck, but she doesn't actually drive, so...

On my way there, though, R----- texted me to confirm our date for tomorrow, and to tell me to have a good night. Which I think is just enough communication. He's texted me just a few times since we started trying to plan our date, and instead of feeling pushy, it makes me feel like he's thinking about me. It's nice. And after tonight, there's nowhere to go but up. I hope.

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?

Expedition Complete

The expedition was a fail of epic, no, dare I say, catastrophic, proportions.

Let me start by saying, I did not get drunk. During the time between 8pm and 12:30 pm I had a total of three tequila shots (disgusting, I'd rather have vodka and day of the week) and two Long Island ice teas. Now, I don't drink often, but that's not enough to get me drunk. I almost wish I had been drunk, then I might have had an excuse.

But I'm getting ahead of the story. A--- and I got to N----'s house on time/early depending on your definitions. Then, we waited while she took a shower and got dressed (after welcoming us with tequila). Then, she picked out my make-up and did my hair while we waited for E---- to get off work. When E---- got there, she made me do another shot with her, and then, we were all ready to go.

In our quest for parking, N---- broke about a hundred traffic laws, including going the wrong way on a one-way street. Then, E---- continued the lawlessness by crossing when the sign clearly said "DON'T WALK." It did her no good, however, because the rest of us refused, and waited for the light.

We got into the club, and the air was so thick with cigarette smoke, I almost choked. Also, most of the people there had were dressed casually, there were a few others dressed up like we were, but almost all of the guys were just wearing normal everyday clothes. The music was okay, but they used their strobe light way too much.  The Long Islands were damn good, though.

The first hour or so was spent with N---- and E---- trying to get me to bump into cute guys, or to dance near them, or give them "the eye," whatever the hell that means. Then, they abandoned A--- and I for a while, and we just danced. All of us found each other again eventually, and got another Long Island. Then, N---- and E---- spent more time strategizing. After that, we went back on the floor.

Now, up until then, the night had been great. I hadn't been approached, but that didn't really matter because I was having fun. Cue the dehydration.

I started to feel a little shaky, but I thought I was just a little tipsy, so I kept dancing. Then, I started to feel my legs getting weak, but I still ignored it because I didn't want to mess up their fun (they were all dancing with random guys). So, by the time I told A--- that I needed to sit down, it was too late.

I literally took one step and hit the floor. It was the worst sensation, my legs just crumpling beneath me. If you've ever fainted because you stood too long with your knees locked, you know what I mean. I was, of course, mortified, as A--- and some random guy picked me up, and I hit my knees two more times before I got to a seat. I blame the shoes and the heat. I also feel like a total idiot for ignoring what my body was trying to say.

We left soon after that, which is to say, as soon as I could walk back to the car.

In manhunting news, N---- and E---- were beating guys off with sticks, and A--- had a couple of cuties grinding on her (which was uncomfortable for her but amusing for me). Me? One guy all night danced with me (not counting the totally fucked up dude that danced with the four of us before trying to dance with a big dude with dreads who was having none of that bullshit), and he was a definite never-gonna-happen. He was persistent, though, I spent several minutes trying to dance away from him while he grabbed my waist and repeatedly asked me my name. He didn't get it.

So, in summation, it was fun for a night, but that was absolutely not my scene. I think I would enjoy something more laid back, the drinking was fun, but the music and lights were too much. Also, I'd like somewhere I can actually see more than basic outlines of the people around me.

Well, you live and learn. A--- and I had IHOP after, and then, when I got home around 4am, my mom was freaking out a little. I can all but promise her this probably won't happen again. Not the exact same thing, anyway.

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.

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.

Maybe Work on the Approach a Little

Friday night, after the hockey game, the team stuck around to sign autographs. Now, my sister is an autograph fanatic, so she and her friend waited to get their team posters signed. My friend and I opted out of the autograph signings because if we actually meet them, they're real people, and it's more fun to imagine them than actually think of the real person.

So, while we waited for Kate and Lindsey, Anna and I walked around the park because it was a BEAUTIFUL night. There's a road that cuts the park in half, and we were walking along it about to head back to my car when this guy walks up behind us and says something really quick so neither of us understood him. We stepped off the sidewalk, thinking he wanted by, but he just kept standing there looking at us. Then, he said (mostly to his shoes), "I was wondering... if maybe.. you'd liketogooutfor dinner with... menmifrend."

Both of us were shocked, and immediately said, "No, thank you," as politely as we could. He said ok, and we parted ways, but it was so bizarre. He wasn't creepy, but the randomness of the situation made it creepy. We weren't sure whether he was asking us on a date, or soliciting us. Made for an amusing story, though.

So, kudos, dude, for actually walking up to a couple of girls and asking them out. Just work on that confidence level and the setting a little. You'll be unstoppable. :)