I Can Work with Men

  • The funny thing about dating is that there are so many different types of men and situations out there so you really are placed in a position of picking your poison.

My last date from a few months ago really had it together.

He owned a couple of properties, had a stable career with no debt and only one child and was just as eager as myself to find someone special and settle down.

That same man was also a self-centered, controlling, condescending asshole who believed he was the crème de la crème and couldn’t understand why or how any woman could reject him.  But like the others he’d complained to me about who found a man with his life in order, I just wasn’t interested in him.

Two weeks ago I met up “47” who is the polar opposite.

He’s newly single, rooming in a small apartment with a relative, has two different baby mamas who are still giving him grief almost ten years later, is transitioning into a new career as a financial advisor, trying to get himself out of a boatload of debt and sheepishly volunteered that he “only made $47,000 last year and it’s been really hard”.  By no means am I judging the man based on his income, but these were his words about struggling, not mine.

“You just don’t make enough money to be able to date me”.

When I asked 47 about some of the women he’d dated recently and why things didn’t work out, he replied that most of them had catfished him and were all grossly obese, but it was that comment above that really stood out.

Initially I thought to myself “what a rude bitch and no wonder she’s still single”, until he provided more details about her.  She was a successful attorney who enjoyed weekend trips to wineries up north, traveling abroad and the opera and as single as she was, that woman was looking for someone who could at least come up with his portion and travel with her.

In the end, this woman and the two before her found 47 useful for nothing more than a quick lay and as he openly admitted, none of them were cool with his current financial and living situation.  He wanted a relationship, not just being looked at as a piece of meat and the fact that they’ve not come back for seconds?  Well, I guess that’s another story because if the sex is that good…

So how did our first meet-up go?

For the sake of brevity (something I really know nothing about), I’ll try to be brief about our Barnes & Nobles meet up and try to avoid two different posts but let me just say this – first impressions are a motherfucker.

Impessions-Quotes.001Whenever I’m going to meet someone whether it be from online dating or after our initial encounter, I make sure everything is on point.  Clothing, hair, scent, nails, shoes, teeth and my personal favorite – lotion.  They’re either going to like me or not but I most certainly am not offering any ammunition to be accused of looking a hot mess.

47 didn’t think things through too carefully or maybe was thrown off because he was rushing to meet me from the Inland Empire, because I was not impressed.

Even if I was to have “worked with a brother” and try setting aside my disdain for his roommate and overall situation, he pretty much set the stage for a not-so-positive evening by showing up:  late, shirt screaming for an iron, about two weeks past that last barber edge up, long dirty fingernails and breathe that was two clicks from being vile.

This is the first meeting, the impression meeting, the let me decide if I would even consider seeing you again meeting yet this is how he arrived.

I just don’t get these men, I really don’t BUT… I think I just may give him a chance to redeem himself.  Maybe.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

Stay Away From This Guy

The short version of my recent meet up:

He messaged me, I responded.  He responded, then I responded and we exchanged numbers and he then texted to me and I responded and he said let’s get together later, and I said okay to a meet up at Starbucks which I hate for meet ups, we meet and he looks different (older) and I know I don’t like him, so we chat for a while, he’s asking questions like I’m interviewing for a job, he gets comfortable and starts dropping F bombs, then he gets really comfortable and asks how old does he look and says he’s really 49 and not 40, and I think I rolled my eyes when he said he puts “whatever” on profiles since no one reads them anyway, then he says he arranges meet ups right away to avoid wasting time, then he tells me online dating is a fluke and he’s there because a friend got lucky with a beautiful woman, now I know I REALLY don’t like him and start getting restless because I’m ready to go, so he suggests we get drinks and chill, and I say “Cool, which restaurant are we going to”, then he says he meant get drinks and just “chill” at his place, and then I said no thanks to his fabulous offer of Netflix and chill, so he seems surprised I said no even though he says he has a really nice place, then I said let’s wrap it up and he offers to be my new real estate agent, so I said no thanks and he said let’s hang again soon as I’m closing my car door ready to drive back home.

This kind of guy is the worst – he’s a lazy dater hoping for instant gratification and along with a quick hook up.

For him, it’s a numbers game. He’s only looking to score as many women as he can, quickly so the online dating scene is the perfect playground for these types of men. Having been on the dating scene for so long, I should know better than anything than to deal with them.

Yet in the moments where I wonder if my hard-nosed approach to so many situations with dating, I’m sometimes willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt.  Then end up regretting it, just like I did with the guy I met tonight.  He’s not online to date but to meet any woman he can squeeze into his schedule until he has enough in his collection to start weeding them out.

The signs were all there that he was just looking for a quickie, in every meaning of the word.

Recognizing the lazy dater

The lazy dater makes himself pretty easy to identify by how his profile is set up or his messages.  If he’s sharing just tidbits in his profile in the “About Me” section, has one too many “Just ask” responses or the number of photos posted are scarce, this is your guy.

You’ll be able to recognize this type because he’s either going to shoot you one or two basic “How are you”, “Nice photos” or “How was your day” kind of messages then quickly offer up his number or ask for yours.

Worse, there are the types who won’t even try the dialogue and will be pimping their digits in the first message along with how much he “Would love to get to know you”.

In my case, his profile was fairly decent and didn’t have any glaring indicators, but once we got to the messaging and signs of his laziness surfaced is when I should have followed my usual discretions and kept it pushing.

Why you shouldn’t exchange numbers too soon

The tricky part about online dating is how much messaging is enough before two people should exchange numbers and of course, there are always two different extremes.

You have the guy who will message you every day with the same boring stuff and you’ll either get bored with him or turned off, then there’s the one who is a little too eager or just plain lazy.  I think it’s safe to say that three or four messages should be good before getting each other’s numbers and these should include a few questions to gauge each other’s level of interest.

I’ve had far too many instances where I should have taken more time to learn a few tidbits about someone, so I wouldn’t be regretting each time they tried to text or call me.

Here’s the deal with the lazy dater and swapping numbers too soon – his motives are often pretty shady.  If he’s in a hurry to call you he’s either doing his last tour of duty because he’s probably already has a potential in mind and needs a back-up or, is trying to collect as many prospects as possible before shutting down his account.

Either way, if he isn’t taking the time to show you that he’s actually interested in getting to know you with a few messages, this means he’s not willing to invest anything in you and more than likely will end up being a  total waste of time.

Why it’s good to have a few conversations before meeting

How does he talk?  Is he way too hood or whitewashed?  Is he able to articulate well?  Do I like the sound of his voice?  Does he prefer dressing up or is he a velour suit kind of guy?  Is this normally how he prefers to meet and does he have a limited time-frame?

Call them Ice Breakers or whatever, but some kind of dialogue before meeting is always a good thing because otherwise it may end up turning into an inquisition of sorts.

Besides that, you’re clueless on what he likes and even if you were detailed with your profile on what turns you on, the lazy dater wouldn’t have read that shit anyway, so you’re just clueless all the way around.

When I was on my way to meet this hangover, he sends me a text message asking that I send him a couple more photos because the ones he had were blurry.

The issue I had with this is applies to any man asking for photos and if you don’t believe me, go ahead and do a Google search on “guys asking for pictures” and you’ll see what I mean.  I replied that I was already going against the grain meeting up without having talked and told him it was a no for photos.

The bigger issue with this text is that Mr. Player clearly had me confused with someone else because I NEVER sent him any (blurry) photos in the first place.

I didn’t call him out on this but you better believe it was noted and this is yet another reason why it’s good to have a few conversations before agreeing to meet someone, because little slip ups like this always come out no matter how smooth the lazy dater may think he is.

Why you should avoid rushed requests to meet

If you haven’t had time to gauge his interest level and any inkling of compatibility by messaging, and you haven’t had a couple of conversations to see if his words match up with what he may have written then you’re only setting yourself up for failure.

The same reasons I shared above on why you should be leery of the guy who’s in a hurry to bypass the getting-to-know-you type questions and on to the telephone are some of the same reasons to be cautious of someone taking the term “spontaneous” to extreme levels.

What’s the big rush?  Is he leaving the country, wife returning from vacation or he’s slowly dying?

Instead of me questioning any of this, I guess my thought process was “you’re not doing anything else later on, so why the hell not”.

Another part of me accepted those instances where I followed all of the steps by spending enough time messaging and making sure a meeting was set within a week of our telephone conversations and we see how well those rules have worked for me.

Again, I didn’t give X-Man’s hastiness any further thought until I started thinking back to that “send me more photos” text and realized I was getting ready to meet someone that I wasn’t even excited about meeting.

How could I be excited when all there was to go on was his online profile and a few decent photos?

What you get when you don’t pay attention to any of the above

If you think a lazy dater is someone you should take a chance on, it’s quite possible that you’ll end up meeting someone at a Starbucks in a location that is a little too urban and crowded for your liking.  But he probably wouldn’t know this because you never had any conversations about any likes and dislikes.

If you’re willing to take a chance with a lazy dater, you may yourself sitting across from the table of someone who’s really a foul-mouthed, cocky know-it-all instead of the quiet I/T geek he presented himself to be.  But you wouldn’t have any clue of how his personality could switch up like this because your conversations didn’t extend beyond one “I’m running late, see you in a bit” telephone call.

If you agree to a quick meet up with a lazy dater who likely didn’t give two shits about what you wrote in your profile, you may find yourself turning up your nose when he asks you to “grab some drinks at his house and just chill”.

But again, he probably isn’t going to know this is a turn off for you because you never had any talks about how you weren’t looking for a new fuck boy.

Initially, I looked at this encounter as a sign of growth for having stepped outside of my barrier of rules but then realized if something doesn’t make sense, then it just doesn’t make sense.

Men who don’t take the time to ask any questions or show that he’s even remotely interested in seeing if the two of you have anything in common is your chance to politely decline any further communication and keep it moving.

Lesson learned – if a man seems really eager to meet right away this doesn’t necessarily mean he thinks you’re the catch of the day and can’t wait to see you, but it can mean that he’s lazy as hell and is treating online dating like a round of speed dating or more like speed fucking.

Until there’s a cure for the dating hangovers…

Carmen Jones

3 Signs the Date Wasn’t So Great

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“So um hypothetically speaking, let’s say you and I keep doing this right here you know and after about three months we’re in a really cool place.  Does that mean you’ll eventually close out your dating account or do we have that conversation when you feel like you’re ready?”

Blank stare.

“I’m ready, you know what I’m saying because you are the type of woman who is on my level, is over the clubbing, you’re a good parent and think the same way as I do.  So um are you ready to take this to the next level?”

Fool, what level and why are you talking like you’re with the homies on the corner?

No exaggeration, this is really how he speaks and all while I kept whispering to myself “Shut the fuck up, please just shut the fuck up”.

This is our first date on Friday night and unfortunately, our last but this poor guy missed each and every signal being sent his way to tell him that he was on Fantasy Island all alone.

Mr. Me (aptly titled) was too busy talking about himself the entire time, trying his best to sell the idea of him being this really great catch. Oh, and this is even though he lied about his age and height on his profile, wanted me to know that I nearly missed out.  The nerve of him taking a moment to  admonish me for my initial blow off and of course, there’s a back story.

Just a few weeks earlier Mr. Me was rubbing his eyeballs as he stared in disbelief at my standard farewell text message to guys that says “Sorry, we’re not a good fit”.   With all of the you knows, and uhs and you know what I’m saying along with a barrage of other faux pas making a conversation with him straight up painful, I knew he was a little too “urban” for me.

Why in the world do I keep forcing these types of situations is a mystery to me, because my profile even tells these prospects that an intellectual AND articulate man is best for me.  He was neither but in the interest of not being a snob or too picky, I decided to give him a chance and once again my second guessing and pity-dating ways have turned against me.

Back to the date, knowing that he’s much shorter with a body proportioned completely different than what his dating profile depicted, along with him having understated his age, I immediately transitioned from a mood of being hopeful to one of placation.

Sadly, Mr. Me was so self-absorbed in chatting about everything related to him from his rough upbringing (I likened him to Ricky and his brother was Dough Boy from the movie Boyz n The Hood), to his side hustle as a stylist.

While he’s plotting a plan to convince me to get offline and get to the “next level”, I’m working a mental calculation for my glass of wine and appetizer.  Keeping my portion as inexpensive as possible is generous, especially since I already knew this was the first and the last.

He totally missed this and everything else.

There were all types of amber warning lights being sent his way both during and after our date letting him know things weren’t as wonderful as he thought and here are the main three that he missed:

Lack of Eye Contact

This wasn’t too difficult to do because the smart guy chose the awkward seating arrangement. Instead of suggesting that we sit at a different table, we settled into a long lounge style sofa and he decided to sit next to me.  Poor thing missed me rolling my eyes to the ceiling, sighing in frustration.  He’s planning date #2 and I’m watching the clock.

Even during the moments when he started in on the “next level”, not once did I turn my head turn to acknowledge him.  Mr. Me said nothing about this lack of attention because he just didn’t pay attention.

Avoids Physical Contact

The advantage of our particular seating arrangement is that at any moment I could have reached over and touched his arm if I was feeling him.  I may have tapped his hand a few times, or willingly moved closer to him.

There was none of this and when he went for the seated side hug (picture it, very awkward), I stiffened up like a dead dog and pulled the opposite direction.  Once it was time to go and he tried for a good night kiss on my lips, my neck snapped so quickly he got nothing but a taste of hair.  There was nothing from my mouth in the form of words or body language otherwise to tell Mr. Me that I was feeling him, nothing at all.

Slow Response/No Response to Texts 

Even if the date wasn’t a smashing success, a quick thank you text was still sent to Mr. Me though some people won’t even do this.  It’s either going to be taken for just that and nothing more or provide hope that this will happen again.   But even if he was still clueless about what was not about to happen that same night, my vague responses and lack of interest in keeping any dialogue going the next two days should have been a clue.  Still, he didn’t get it and up until last evening was still texting me asking how my day was etc…

Clueless.

It’s amazing how many men fail to pay attention to words being said (or in this case, lack thereof) and what maybe going on with a woman’s body language.  Once again I found myself being out with someone for the sake of doing it, more out of guilt for rejecting him because I didn’t think we had anything in common.

One wasted outfit and a few gallons of gas later, so what’s a girl to do after all of this?  Call up her old faithful fuck buddy to redeem herself and end up with some real fireworks.

I just can’t do any more of these pity dates.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones
www.mydatinghangovers.com
myhangovers@gmail.com

The Come Back Charlie’s

Hangovers aren’t really feelings you ever want to return but every now and then,  I just might entertain the idea of being entertained.  It’s been several years since I’ve been seen the one called The Black Russian,  but we have both been in and out of the online dating scene so we have chatted briefly a time or two.

Yesterday he decided to reach out via telephone and before I share the how his life has been since we met, here’s a little throwback post to reintroduce or introduce him to you.  If you want to read about how that first encounter ended, click here.

And now on to The Date with The Black Russian, Part 1…

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(REPOST)

Okay, do you want the short version or the tale with all the goodies because Friday night’s date with the one I’ll call “Black Russian” ended with a few laughs, moans, a few groans and quite possibly a few tears.  In fact, this  guy’s name should really be “Almost 10” or “Ovary Killer” and by the end of this post, you’ll understand what I mean.  It is not my intent to be a writer of erotica but hey, the purpose of the blog is to share my experiences so boys and girls, here we go!

                                                                                    The Guy  

A few details about my latest hangover candidate include the obvious – this amalgamated specimen is the product of a black father (the black man  is always tapping into other oceans) and a Russian orthodox mother.   I joked with him that he was the first his kind for me and was the first person I was meeting off of Plenty of Fish this second time around.

Yeah, I know I said I’d given up online dating months ago but I really just signed up for this service with no intention of meeting anyone.  Honestly, most dating sights are pure comic relief with the photos and profiles alone, but I signed up to get articles and thread posts for blog material.  Anyway, back to our guy.  He’s quite handsome, towering over me with 6’4, thin to medium build frame, with beautiful teeth and has a complexion of a latte with two tablespoons of cream. I hate hate hate having a type and as much as I try to escape from it,  he was my typical looking guy.

                                                                              Setting the Date  After a few phone conversations and texting, Black Russian finally said how it would be cool if we finally met up so we agreed on Friday; the destination was up in the air.  Now let me say this – I normally like a guy to do all of the planning and just give me an idea on what attire I should consider, I like to be surprised but understanding that has probably backfired a time or two, I was okay that we didn’t have a “where to” set in stone.  The plan was to meet up at his house, though I made it clear I would wait for him OUTSIDE his place and we’ve go from there.

                                                                                 The Meeting   

Hooray!!!! He looks like his profile and the follow up picture and not like a ninja turtle and yay!!! He wasn’t dressed like he was going to shoot pool with the homeboys (remember Ghetto 2Pac?).  Dressed in a date-appropriate outfit consisting of a dark v-neck, jacket, jeans and black shoes and smelling great he drove us to our destination for dinner and drinks.  Black Russian’s a nice guy, converses well and has manners so I enjoyed our time out.  Fireworks, moments of WOW and thoughts of this might be a connection?  No, I didn’t feel any real chemistry and it was likely mutual so if anything, we both had probably figured we could become friends at best.  The night was going well until we did the unthinkable on a first date – started talking about sex.

Sometimes you meet a person and you have absolutely nothing in common.  Sometimes you have many things in common but you just don’t like the person.  Sometimes you are so-so, nothing that knocks your socks off about the person and you make do. Sometimes you meet a person and find you are on the EXACT SAME PAGE, especially when it comes to something you both really enjoy.  Sex.

                                                                           Bragada & Carmen  

Alright, so dinner and a few drinks combined with talks about past relationships, what worked and what didn’t.  Does size matter, conversations you should not have after sex, crazy women and all that good first date stuff is how we closed out dinner.   Once I’d mentioned the inadequate size of an ex’s tool, Black Russian seemed shocked that a woman could tolerate such a small, pitiful, disappointing piece of—  okay, I digressed.  Anyway, he asks me with the grin of a Cheshire cat “8+inches enough for you?”

Needless to say, while waiting for our pitifully sorry waiter to come with the check I don’t think either of us was ready for the night to end.  I know this is really an invitation to get some booty, but when he asked me if I wanted to come back to his place and “chill” for a bit over some drinks, I really didn’t care.  I did not PLAN on things happening the way they did, but after the vodka (what else would a Russian drink!) and cranberry, small talk about friends and living space, reminiscing over old slow jams we loved and agreeing that a Prince concert is a must see, as we sat on the sofa he went in for the kill.  My neck.

Ladies, I don’t know how many erogenous zones you may have but you know that one really gets you going and for me, it’s my neck.  It seems like it is the most sensitive area at times, because I’m extremely ticklish in one way but the right touch, kiss or lick sends me well – not laughing, that’s for sure.  So the kiss on the neck goes to the cheek, to the lips and oh, the lips.  Soft, succulent, moist, full, powerful.  Black Russian had made this comment about his mouth days ago when I asked him if his bong and cannabis hobby left him with dry, chaffed lips.  Not only did he fire off an adjective laden reply, he topped it off by telling me those same lips could elicit orgasm after orgasm.  How’s that for a little pre-meeting foreplay?

So after a really intense necking, kissing, nipple sucking & breast massaging session he comes at me with what is probably the cheesiest line EVER – “Come on, I want you to see how soft my bed is”.

Really?  We just this heated you’re-making-me-moist grinding session and that’s the best line to get me in your room?  Well I’m sorry, you must think I’m the most naïve, just got off the turnip truck type of girl you can say anything to because…. Because… It worked!  LOL!!!!

Through the black curtains and to the bedroom we go and shortly after I met Bragada.  Slow down pervs, not another woman or anything but the bed – this guy wasn’t kidding because this memory foam with a dash of heaven was the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid my body on.  We lay there talking and laughing about me now being a believer when suddenly he says he wanted to show me what else was the softest.

Enter the “Hey, what are you doing” as he pulls quickly manipulates through the belt loops and zipper of my jeans, followed by the “oh no, you’re not doing that” as he’s telling me exactly how he’s going to get multiple orgasms out of me ending with the inaudible “Oh my GOD” and some other things I said that I simply cannot remember.

The Black Russian delivered.  Orgasm after orgasm, back to back.  Knee shaking, spine tingling.  Damn, and this is after just the first date?  I felt weak, pleaded for him to give me a break but he was relentless.  So of course, you know what happens next…..

To be continued…

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

Anna Mae, Eat the Cake!

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This post is dedicated to any woman who thought she was being too picky, said no too quickly or even said these dreaded “may as well” when going out with someone she should have ignored and deleted.   It’s going to be a long one, so grab your coffee and take a seat.

On the surface, this one hangover seemed like a pretty decent catch.  He’s educated, is a homeowner,  and has been pretty successful in a career as a social worker for over ten years.  The bonus was that he decided not to operate as if he was a sperm bank and only had one child of wedlock.  The man mentioned something about having goals, travel plans, and  more and if I played my cards right, likely would have wined and dined me, sparing no expense.  There is hope after all if what I told myself.  Yet at the same time, I believe this same man would have BEAT the living daylights out of me if I told a joke that he didn’t find funny, wore something he disliked, refused to pop a woman in the head with a bottle and most certainly, I  would have been strangled if I dare question anything about his manhood.  In all of my dating experiences, I don’t think I have ever, ever, ever witnessed a person showing their raging maniac temper on a date (the first date, no less) and showing NO remorse.  Not ever.

In fact, towards the end of the Nightmare in Temecula he’s telling me how well the date went, adding that the two of us would make a power couple.  He had his ego so far up his ass that he hadn’t noticed my angst.  While his visions of us running through the lilies hand in hand,  I had visions of him slapping the hell out of me, sending me flying over the hood of my car.   It was painfully obvious that he was talking about a different date, night and person.  Allow me to introduce what I have managed to dodge, a man named Bullet.  Although he wasn’t necessarily desirable in terms of location living in the Inland Empire but just as I explained above – he had his shit together.  Just like the others who graduated from in-box chats to the number exchange, Bullet did all of the right things in the beginning and opened up the lines of communication with catchy, well written messages showing just the right amount of interest that weren’t too desperate and soon after he messaged,  we graduated to step 3 of the online dating game,   the telephone conversation.

You might be wondering if he was really good looking and the answer is no, even though he bragged about people saying he looked like Edris Elba. Maybe at night, after a drink or two and a missing contact lens.  Not horrible, but decent enough and so it began but about thirty minutes into the conversation,  I started learning about the type of guy he really was and man- why or why do we always ignore that first instinct?  Likely because the person we’re picking up the bad vibe from is good at running game and will tell you “it was just a joke” or “don’t be so serious”, making you feel like there’s just a big misunderstanding.  First conversations usually include topics such as asking what a person does for a living, length of single hood, favorite sports team or when the first meeting will be, right? Ours had a few others that I wasn’t really used to but I took them for what they were worth, immediately being made aware of Bullet’s “intense phobia of fat women”.  He asked no less than five times if the person in my photos were really me, and added his last couple of dates ended in disaster when he met women who were “two cheeseburgers from floating” or “wheezed when wobbling.”  He’s serious about weight which is cool, I feel the same about teeth.

It’s true when they say you can take a person out of the ghetto but you can’t take the ghetto out of a person.  This guy is proud about living in Temecula, but at times would say things as if he was on 54th and Vernon in South Central LA.  So out of curiosity I asked where he was originally from and when he replied “Why, I sound like I’m from somewhere other than out here” I knew he was a hood transplant.   Before I could say anything else he suddenly started yelling “No,  you greedy ass now get the hell out of here!”.  Seconds later, he calmly returns to the discussion as if nothing had ever happened.  Bullet seemed to go from 0 to 60 in five seconds flat but I brushed of that incident as annoyance after a long day.

So on to the second instance of his questionable behavior which happens to be Saturday, and an early morning talk between the two of us goes pretty well. Bullet was in a pretty jovial mood and commented how much he really wanted to meet me and he just knew we would hit it off. There WERE quite a few things we had in common, so it was a no brainer when he asked if I wanted to go to a comedy show later that night.  But then things got interesting when we chatted about the meet up.  Control freak.

The plan was for Bullet to contact me later that afternoon to solidify the plans, but instead  I didn’t hear back from him until about 7:30pm.  Sure, I could have called Bullet earlier to see what was up, but if someone tells you they’ll be busy working, it is to be understood that they’ll be busy working.  With that in mind, getting a phone call at that time and confirming plans at 8pm for a show that starts at 10pm, factoring in a 50 minute drive was cutting it close.  When I commented to him that I may be a little late he quickly replied “Late? Why would you be late?  It takes you that long to get ready or do you drive that slow?” There was a bit of silence at first and I quickly fired back “No smart ass, neither but I’m not sure what part of the area you think I live in, but I’m closer to the beach”.  Bullet starts laughing and says “Damn baby, I’m just joking – stop being so serious.  Do what you need to do, text me as soon as you leave the house and I’ll see you in a bit.”

You can be completely turned off by how someone behaves in public.  I’m sure I broke the speed limits to get there on time but I made it only to meet up with this man who walked up to me like he was 6’5, with tons of muscles and balls the size of door knobs.  He’s smoothing his hair down and starts licking his lips like I was the two-piece special from KFC.  Really dude? Not only was his thirsty behavior killing me I was pissed that his photo “enhancements” were more on the side of deceiving. He did NOT have an average build (weighed no more than 110 wet), he was not 5’10 (probably 5’7),  and those lips did NOT look so succulent (more like tar in color).  Bullet wasn’t a Critter, but  went overboard with Photoshop. Lastly, his pimp walk was out of control and I could tell he did that the type of person who liked being the center of attention.

Setting aside his animated antics, he was still acting like a gentleman by complimenting me, opening doors, pulled out chairs and allowed me to order first when the waitress arrived.  As we sat waiting for the first comic to come up, the clouds, thunder and lightning started suddenly began moving towards the comedy club. All I can say is poor waitress.  Apparently when Bullet barked his order to her over the loudness of the club, she missed a crucial part of his request because when she brought out his beer BEFORE his food, he lost his mind.

All I heard was something about warm beer and the waitress apologized again and again while trying to leave, he yelled for her to take it away and bring another when the food is ready. If only I could click my heels and disappear to Kansas but instead, my eyes just told the poor girl I was sorry for him being an asshole. Seeing anyone treat a server like that is ridiculous and when he leaned over  to gain my support, whispering and introducing me to breath that smelled a little like my gym shoes, I just shook my head. Bullet asked if I heard when he asked for the drink and meal at the same time, I said no and joked “Easy killer” and he joked back “I wasn’t mad at her; I was just giving her a hard time – stop being so serious.”

Alright, so comedy the show is absolutely fabulous and Bullet’s personality remains in “friendly” mode.  We joked around a little bit and when he said he knew of a nice spot nearby with good drinks and music, I reluctantly agreed to go.  I wasn’t dressed for a nightclub but alcohol at the end of a date like this sounded good to me, especially because I already knew that there would never ever be another with him. Several minutes later, we arrive at some place and this is where things really got interesting, and soon I realized all that I ever needed to know or wanted to know about this nut.  You should not mouth off around someone with anger management issues.

In a matter of about twenty minutes, the question of where he was originally from was answered with “the hood” and I also learned how much he hated had Mexicans.  I mean really dude – we ARE in California, so I’m not sure why you were so surprised that a nightclub in one of the areas with the highest population of “those suckers” was so shocking. Knowing how Bullet feels about our surrounding explains his behavior when this one guy in a wheelchair who obviously should have backed away from the bar hours ago, kept circling in the middle of us while he was dancing.  He was inching closer and closer out of his chamber and when wheelchair dancer either accidentally or drunkenly got a little too close, I saw Bullet’s handle begin to cock so I quickly pulled him away towards the bar.

I’ll mention again that I was dressed for a comedy club and not a nightclub, so after a while I told Bullet that it was too hot inside.  He turns to me and says “No one told you to wear all of that hot shit; you knew you were coming out here so I don’t know what you were thinking.”  My jaw dropped to the floor and I guess the expression on my face was pretty bad because he starts laughing and says “Damn girl, I’m just joking – stop being so serious all the time.”  I am beside myself, outside myself and ready to turn into someone other than myself and several scenes from “What’s Love Got To Do With It”  played out in my head, especially the part when Ike kept telling Anna Mae to eat the cake before shoving it in her face.

Before I could tell him to shove his “jokes” up his ass and bounce out the door, this (drunk) chick comes strolling by and ends up elbowing him in the back while trying to get through the crowded walk way.  Oh-My- God.  I think my brain was trying to process my escape strategy out of this club when Bullet’s face changes, that forehead crease turns into a fold and he whips around and shoves her.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, he yells at her saying “What the fu@k is wrong with you; you can’t just elbow people in the back like that.  You fu@king crazy??”  In a matter of seconds her face went from shock (what the hell, did I just get shoved), to disgust (no he did not just talk to me like that), to fear (oh wow, he’s nuts).  She stuttered an apology and Bullet fired back repeating the question, telling her to apologize again and added that she needs to be more respectful. All I could think of was how long it would take for the woman’s boyfriend, brother or friend to come over there with a chair, bottle or knife and that would be the end of Carmen.  When I say I exited stage left, I mean I EXITED stage left.  I can’t even remember how I got out of there so fast, but all I know is that Bullet was behind me asking me to slow down wondering why I was upset.

As funny as this may sound, the man REALLY believed that the woman had done the elbow move on purpose because he 2 as black.  Anything else he was saying is a blur because I was in escape mode, fumbling for my keys while walking.  He’s still talking and then asks if I agreed that the night had gone well and when I laughed,  said no and walked even faster, asked what was my problem.  “That situation could have been handled differently and you should not put hands on a woman like that”. This clown just sucked his teeth and said the types of women he’s dealt with would have thought his actions were right in line. Bullet professed how he needed a ride or die chick; the type of woman would have backed him up, had his back, realized he was a “real” man, and probably even offered to beat the chick up.  Sorry boo, but I’m not that woman and while you think it’s been a great date this nightmare must come to an end.

Until there’s a cure for the dating hangovers…

Carmen Jones

I’m Here to Date, Not to Screw

For the last couple of days, I have been trying to figure out   procrastinating on posting about my lastest date.

Fresh out of the caribbean where the men worshipped me like the super bad chick that I am, right into one of the hottest sushi bars in LA for a first time meeting with a new hangover.  I can’t remember if I mentioned this last week, but there were a few “last call” stragglers I had exchanged numbers with prior to ending my membership on this dating site I’ve been on for the last couple of months.

One of the men who passed the initial screening for telephone number exchange was who I went out with, and within a matter of ten minutes, his pseudonym was easily created – this hangover’s name is Asshole.

If I were to explain how things went by using photos, the story would look a little something like this:

Before the Date
During the Date
After the Date

It has been quite some time since I have had the displeasure of being in the presence of a man who was overtly confident – no, he was pompous.  Asshole is pretty much the total package, because he seemingly has nearly all of the qualities any woman would be interested in:

Nice looking – Textbook tall, dark and handsome.  He has the smoothest chocolate brown complexion, a great set of teeth, a smooth and bald head, and his daily workouts are doing his body good.

Smart – An undergraduate of a reputable school in the mid-west and USC MBA alumni, he is beyond intelligent but also has a bit of street smarts from his early beginnings.

Successful – I never understood what mergers and acquisitions was all about, but I know this dude makes a handsome amount of money and is in one of the senior-most positions within his firm.  Aside from that, Asshole owns his own wine business and has his hands in the cookie jar for a few other ventures as well.

Talked the Talk – This guy is quite eloquent and well versed;  aside from that, he talked about what he sought for his future.  This hangover was quick and to the point and after only one conversation, made a date with me to “get things rolling”.

A clue in to exactly the type of person I was dealing with was made painfully obvious when I asked if he wanted to keep it simple and meet up for coffee at Starbucks.  His reply:  “Why would I meet someone at Starbucks?  That place is for either broke dudes who can’t afford a decent date or someone who has no other place to go…”

Hmmm, okay.

So the meeting takes place and as I stated before, it didn’t take very long for me to come up with an appropriate name for him;  such that I even shared it with him as we sipped on drinks following his chastizing of the poor waiter.  Asshole joked saying “I think I’ve been called other types of names on dates, so it could be worse.”

Don’t get me wrong as I wasn’t having a horrible time, but was really trying to figure out if this guy was as arrogant and stoic as he was coming across.  In fact, one name in particular came to mind when it dawned on me that he reminded me of someone who is fictional for all intents and purposes:  Christian Grey.

That’s right!  The man I was meeting for the very first time was as close to the real life character of a modern day sexual and social deviant from the trilogy book series “Fifty Shades of Grey“.

Pretty fucked up, huh?

For those of you who have read these books, the jerk I described above is the embodiment of a Christian Grey-type.

Sadly, I won’t get the opportunity to see if he has a torture chamber in his condo, if he would tie me up in shackles while screwing my brains out, or if he would spank me until my skin turned raw (shameless plug for the books, they are definite panty wetters!!).

Unlike some other women who may be so enthralled by being in the presence of a man who truly seems to have his shit together on every level.  I just couldn’t deal with him and will NOT deal with a man who has so many of the types of traits that most women would and SHOULD be turned off to.

Control freak, judgmental critical, arrogant, and has that “I’m a rare find and I know it” attitude.  Oddly enough, at other times the Asshole personable and had no issues spending money since we easily racked up over $100 and this was just a “meet up”.

Now that I think of it, this dude may have had a bit of a split personality.

Sometimes he would get really quiet, deep in thought and then moments later would turn my way and tell me how pretty I was.  Then he would go radio silent, and after a sip light up and whisper how he wanted to”taste my lips”.

Moments later, he gets quiet again then admonishes me for slouching a bit for the last 10 minutes.  Then he says how much he is ready to settle down, have another child and will ask me for the sixth time what I want from him.

See what I mean?  This dude was like flipping a light switch – off on, on off, off off, on, off off, off, on…………..

Suffice to say, a girl was a bit twisted at the end of the night.  Not only was it from the wine he kept sending (his attempt to get me tipsy enough not to drive home), but his strange displays of interest and affection, following by some sort of critique or serious question.  I’ll admit, after going on dates with the likes of the greedy little fucker with the munchies who had NO money for a date, outings with the poorly dressed, boring and partial albino, or the career felon, meeting someone who seemed to have it together was refreshing.

Okay, so the night is coming to an end and we bid each other farewell.  He asks if we can get together tomorrow, but then things take yet another turn left when I reached out that day to confirm and he replies with this:

“You should just come over, I molest you twice then we eat lunch”.

I told him he had me totally confused and politely declined his offer.

Back to the drawing board I go.

Until there’s a cure…

Carmen Jones

Should You Date When You’re Broke- Part II

 

pockets

“Are we talking rough as in I do okay here and there or rough as in Top Ramen every night for dinner?  His response was “Top Ramen for breakfast, lunch and dinner”.

This was the warning sign Broke Boo was giving me, a true depiction of how his current financial status wasn’t the best. Part II of this post went as follows:

After getting beyond the preliminary getting-to-know-you type of discussion which covered work, living arrangements, children and the like, Broke Boo asked if I wanted to get together just a day after our first talk. Now in case you didn’t catch it, “getting together” is NOT the same as “Can I take you out”. Call it what you want, but nowadays what comes out of a man’s mouth is more than just a matter of semantics.

On to the uh… Date.

Was Broke Boo coming to pick me up? Nope. It took me a second to realize that he didn’t mean he was concerned about how much time he had before getting back to work when he said he was “timing his brakes”. He was afraid of driving too far, and asked if I minded coming out his way and we could head to our destination – Marina del Rey.

Was Broke Boo planning on taking me to dinner? Nope.

As we were finalizing the meet up time, he said his chicken was ready and he would give me a call back after eating. I’m guessing the sound from deep down in my throat that said “Ninja WHAT??!!” Was heard because Broke Boo apologized and asked if I was hungry and if so, did I want him to save me some. Seriously dude? My stomach was a rumbling but I declined his offer for the cuisine of Chicken a la Inglewood.

Was he planning on taking me to some little bar or something for a drink or two? Nope.

I called him back and asked exactly what the plan was at the Marina if a girl was going to be self-fed, bottle watered up and hair frizzed in the outdoor elements? His reply? Talk and walk along the walkway path and get to know each other.

I agreed to meet him at his home, but sarcastically told him I would dress as if I was meeting an old friend instead of meeting someone I might date. In my mind was that little voice again saying this is some bullshit.

So go ahead, ponder why I even bothered and didn’t either hang up and delete this guy or stand him up?

I figured why the hell not! Broke Boo was a nice fella, articulate, light-hearted and funny as all get out. I suppose since my luck with the six-figured assholes like Special Agent, movie producers like The Calm, moderate money makers such as Good on P@er was shitty, why not enjoy the Top Ramen, Dollar Tree man right?

Alright, I decided to roll with this experiment and off to Broke Boo’s house I go and wasn’t surprised at all to see where he lived – along apartment row right off of Hyde Park. My inner bougieness came out in full force as I peeped my surroundings, being thankful when I saw that he lived in a gated building.

Out of the dark came a large and round figure as I made my way to his condo, and suddenly that old familiar feeling overtook my concerns about my ghetto fabulous surroundings.

Was Broke Boo’s in-person appearance anything like his online profile? Hmm, maybe.

That is if it was about 50 lbs ago, WITH a neck and other limbs. Oh yes, another case of the impostor by photo. He wasn’t ugly; in fact he has nice facial features and a nice smile but is just big. Really big, so I soon found myself wondering if the aroma of butt crack accompanied his look.

He came closer to my car, suggesting I park there for a moment and I said “Park? I thought we were leaving?”. He replies that we were, but figured since I was there I may as well check out his place. Fortunately, there weren’t any creepy feelings and coupled with the fact that I was armed with my mace AND a surgical scalpel (don’t judge me) in my right boot, I agreed to check out his digs.

Was Broke Boo’s home a modern masterpiece worthy of a spot on HGTV?

Sure, if dust bunnies in the foyer, filthy ass brown carpet (if brown is dirty, that’s a high level of nastiness), black stains of paint or tar throughout the living room floor, and cheap 2 for $499 living room furniture is your idea of “Ooh la la”. Needless to say, the tour was quick and I mumbled something about it being neat and away to his car we went.

Remember the part about the brakes, right? I was a little confused with that in mind as we hopped into what appeared to be a new SUV, dealer plates and all. So of course I’m wondering how the bad brakes go with temporary registration in the window, that is until my eyes were drawn to the driver side mirror. Wait- driver side mirror housing, because the glass was GONE and grey electrical tape was holding the part to the door. Classy, eh?

After taking in all of this, I had my oooohhh moment; Broke Boo has had this vehicle for a while, hence the broken parts and bad brakes AND the temporary registration. This meant he has NOT paid for a renewal yet and was rolling through the streets of Inglewood and Los Angeles on expired tags.

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

We’re almost to our dinner-less and drink-less destination, when we make a slight detour to 7-Eleven. I’m thinking to myself what on earth is he getting? It can’t be food since he just ate and it can’t be money because clearly this was an anti-funds date. I had to stifle a laugh when this fool hopped back in the car with two bags of Skittles, joking that he needed a little something sweet. Don’t worry though, he did offer to share.

This is simply too much comedy material for one night, but I stuck it out. Finally, we arrive at our destination and begin walking.

Now this much I can say – we did have a decent conversation, at which time I learned I learned a lot. For instance, he shared his preference of dating women with NO children, that he’s still bitter about all of the money spent on his last relationship and was dumped without warning, and lastly, that he developed a “frugal” approach to dating because he’s been out with many women in the past who only wanted to spend his money (really?).

Throughout the remaining hour or so of our walking gab session, I made sure I inserted key words to completely eliminate myself from being desirable to him. I told him I was still hung up on my ex, said I wanted three more children in a years time, and said something about men needing to take care of women at any expense. Oh yes, you better believe the last one was the deal breaker and the secret pleasure I had sensing his reaction to it all.

Finally, when the cool breeze had sucked the last of my flat-ironing efforts and the smell of the ocean had become too much, Broke Boo and I headed towards the car. Of course, he’s in awe of me as he continues to say he can’t believe how beautiful and down to earth I am. What’s on my mind? Whether I will simply ignore him or send a “take care” text as soon as I make it home.

So in the car we go as he glides us in his “new car” back to his home when he makes yet another 7-Eleven stop. What the hell? I know he isn’t stopping for… for… Condoms or anything??!!

Once again, being the classy gentleman that he was, I was asked if I wanted anything. Damn, my last shot at getting something out of this night but alas, I declined.

Just a few moments later, Broke Boo returned but this time, with a plastic bag halfway filled. I turned and asked “What did you get this time?” and when he looked my way, smiled and said “Oh, I’ve got the munchies, sorry.”

And there you have it… A man whose funds are limited or non-existent showing a single lady how to have a good time on a budget.

Lesson learned, no passes on finances. None. If a man wants to get creative, date on a budget or whatever- that’s understandable to a certain point. Make a good sell of the idea and I’m sorry, an outing like this is never really a good thought for a first date.

Cupid, I’m really beginning to hate you.

Carmen Jones

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.

Should You Date When You’re Broke? Part I

Dating is something that consumes both time and energy and for the life of me, I will never understand how the cheaters and players are able to carry on without burning out.

While having two dates back to back in the same weekend may seem appealing (yeah, I’m hot stuff) and in the right direction (eliminate two men at once), it was a bit tiring.  Having to decide on two different outfits, hairstyle, shoes and coordinating purses and jewelry is something I would much rather worry about once a week.  Not only is the preparation for the first date and meeting with a person enough to get you all worked up, the disappointment at having WASTED your energy and a fly outfit is enough to make you want to say to hell with this!

So how about a little recap of date 1 of 2?

Before I go into the details of Friday night’s date, let me make the following statements:  First of all, people with finances that are a little questionable, iffy or non-existent should not be actively dating.  I say “people” because men and women alike should really be focusing their efforts on either conserving their funds by figuring out how to live within their means, or trying their hand at a second job to supplement their income.

Secondly, I really need to stop ignoring my instincts and listening to that little bitch in my head who says “Stop here, send him the “take care” text and keep it moving”.  Whether it is out of concern that I may be a little too particular about the types of men I will communicate with and date OR my false sense of hope that their situation really isn’t all that bad, I must stick to what my inner gut is trying to tell me.

Now, on to the next hangover.

My disappointment date from Friday was all my fault, entirely because I reached out to HIM.   A few weeks ago my solution to being proactive and actually searching the site instead of waiting for the men to reach out to me seemed like a good idea; at least once a week I would peruse through the online profiles and initiate contact, so I reached out to the hangover named Broke Boo.  From what I could tell, he was a nice looking man who was about 5 years younger and wrote intelligibly in a profile that said he was interested in the same things as me.  A message was sent to him and while it took nearly a week for a reply, it was worth the wait since it included an apology for the delay along with a light hearted message that made way for easy flowing communication.  After several exchanges and Broke Boo commenting that the women he had encountered never seemed interested in taking things offline, telephone numbers were given and a day later we were getting acquainted with each other verbally.  So far, so good right?

Well…. Hold on.

Those initial conversations can make or break your interest in a person, and while Broke Boo wasn’t guilty of committing any of those telephone no-no’s, like yelling at someone in the background about some damn ice cream (see the next post about Saturday night’s date for the full story on this), putting me on hold excessively, or asking me to snap a picture and text right away, it was certain portions of what he was saying.

The warning signs about his financial status that had me mumbling under my breath like “This _ucker is broke…” What makes me say this?  Well, when the discussion switched to work and what each of us did for a living and he mentioned he was a real estate broker followed by a “Man, it’s rough”, that was a clear indication of his um – financial disparities.  I commented something about the market being really tough right now, and he replied that it was and said he was having a really hard time maintaining but that the industry was all that he knew.  Broke Boo explained his background in corporate America, his education and how his knowledge gave him the best of both worlds for the line of work so for now- it was just a matter of him making the best of this situation.

Of course I try to see the light at the end of the tunnel and try putting a positive twist in wherever possible, but I also jokingly asked “Are we talking rough as in I do okay here and there or rough as in Top Ramen every night for dinner?  His response was “Top Ramen for breakfast, lunch and dinner”.  Now we are all very much aware of the state of the market, and in California? Realtors are like vultures are circling around the same piece of meat, hoping to make a kill. So his lifestyle has been taking a beating for some 5+ years, and when he added that he was trying to figure out how to make things work so he can go to lunch and only Top Ramen, I knew what was up.

Broke, broke, and broke.

So there’s the warning of what was to come, and while Broke Boo was telling me how difficult it was to sustain in his line of work, he STILL asked me out the following night.  Now I certainly don’t want to prolong the details of the date, I appreciate the need to continue scrolling from a cell phone while reading, so part II is where I’ll share the details.

I sure wished the dating fairies would put down their joke book and stop messing around in my life.

Until there’s a cure for the hangovers….

Carmen Jones

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.

Suffering From Dating Burnout

If only I had the energy to share the plethora of events that took place this past weekend, and normally there is never a dull moment.  I accepted a double dog dare and ended up riding a mechanical bull for the first time, successfully managing to keep all body parts inside  of my clothing.  Next, I had the pleasure of taking in the sights of Marina del Rey while talking about real estate dreams in between several snack runs to a few 7 Eleven stores which led up to the closing ceremonies of the weekend where my fears of becoming the latest nightclub shooting casualty because someone had a crazy temper and hood mentality.
Oh- the last two are just teasers from my dates on Friday and Saturday so when waking up Sunday morning realizing that it would take two separate posts just to talk about that last crazy ass control freak I went out with, I also admitted that I am suffering from a bad  case of dating burnout.I need a break, a new vision and a different way of handling my dealings with the future hangovers.  But here’s the funny part – it isn’t just me.  I’m not the only one who decided to give the online dating scene another crack, so several of my friends and their friends are going through the same trials and tribulations.  Interesting contacts, great couple of conversations, those need-to-stop-obsessing-before-I-jinx things talk, leading up to the eventual meet ups, but sadly for nearly all of us,  things seems to fall apart from there.In fact, I decided to get together with a fellow blogger, MeSoSingleyesterday for a nice lunch as we chatted about everything from our ex-boyfriends, the disappointing pickings online, small penises and finally – settling.
Once I started telling the details from my two dates, I felt the urge to lean over and dab the tears that continued to well up in the corners of her eyes as MeSo continued to squeal “Shut up!!”, “No fuc_king way” and “Wow”.  Don’t worry, there was nothing tragically sad being shared; instead belly and cheek aching laughter which finally was topped off with musings about why I didn’t just walk off and leave both of these men.So after exchanging war stories, I decided I would change things up and take yet another approach to dating although I’m really ready to just give up.  Visions of me happily  powering up the computer, deleting every trace of my profile and then going  but a power up button away from deleting my profile and going out for that fancy tattoo on my arm that says “Bitter Spinster”.  Instead, the following 3 changes will help me to avoid experiencing any to avoid further burnout:
1.   Accept the truth, I DO have a type.

I don’t like short men (nothing under 5’8), thin or skinny (I weighed more than Saturday night’s date), overweight (Friday night’s date straight up lied saying he had “a couple of extra pounds”, or men with long hair (braids, locks or ponytails).

Appearance DOES matter, so I will no longer try to “work with” someone whose photo does absolutely nothing for me. Long gone are the assumptions, hopes, or fantasies that a man has just taken a few bad pictures (sorry, if you can’t get at least 5 out of 30, its hopeless) and he’ll look better in person.  I simply will not entertain any communication and save both he and I precious time and energy.

My type of man is nicely groomed,  formally educated or self-educated from reading and life experiences.  He is driven, has a career with aspirations for more out of life, has class, tact, and is  cultured.  Converses (NOT conversates) well and is job function friendly,  meaning I wouldn’t have to worry about how he would dress or act if taken out of his element. He does exist and my likes and expectations are not unreasonable, so the more I stop trying to short change myself by working under some mystic time line of finding the right one for me, the easier this process will be.

Gone are the pity replies and communications.  If the man has one too many children, is still “trying to get that hustle going” with no other income, lives at home or splits the rent, has shirt less mirror shots or poses with a wife beater and gold chain, is holding his rottweiler up, still won’t write the word “cool” instead of “kool” because of his old gang banging days, has a profile name that has daddy, boo, money, ray ray, day day, or simply spells like a dyslexic gypsy, and has “must be physically fit” listed but is looking three cheeseburgers from needing bypass, next!!!!!!!!!!  No passes, absolutely no more.

You see, I’ve been listening to that inner bitch who has been talking with “those” people.  You know the ones who are in relationships or married and settled for a hell of a lot less than what I’m seeking.  Yet because they may have that steady and comfortable situation for weekend, holidays and events, those of us like me are being given that sorry “Good luck with your search” spill.  Pssh, whatever.

2.  The intent of my search will change.

This one really sounds like a point of defeat, since I’m basically preparing to take the “serious” out and go for “casual dating”.  I really feel as if I’m spinning my wheels because my profile is written to attract a certain type of man.  Not the one who is looking for the pen pal, jump off or random fling, but for the man who is serious about his desire to settle down and find his partner – not a girlfriend or even a wife.  Take the time to think about this, because you know there’s a difference between pursuing all three.  Still, I have to admit I may be selling me self short trying this out but what have I got to lose?  When putting my long-term desires out there I attract those who aren’t interested in the same and want to “let things flow naturally” or as I prefer to call it, winging it and try getting some ass on the side. Or I attract the ones who are way too eager who obsess over the idea of being with me and turn me off like smelly socks rubbed on my pillow.

As soon as I’m able, my profile will be revised drastically to reveal only the basics.  I think it was the date from last week who told me that women share too much and said we need to stick to the less is more approach.  No longer will it say “interested in marriage or serious relationship” because I’m just feeling like that is a quest for a purple unicorn with pink toenails.  But don’t get it twisted because this is not a sign of permanent defeat, yet a temporary measure only.  Maybe setting a goal of having a date at least every two weeks was a bit much (my Tally Diva set a goal for once a week!), because I have no problem with quantity but as the saying goes, its about quality.  For time being, if its a matter of just wanting to get out and see the latest movie, trying out those Culver City stairs or going wine tasting, I’ll connect with those who are appealing and interesting to me.

3.  Keep the kitty satisfied.

What, because I’m not in a relationship with someone, vagina vacation should be in place?  Absolutely not and while I love my battery operated companions like Cici, Carmen (yes, actual name), and Stubby G, nothing compares to the smell, taste and feel of a real man.

Sex is a must, a necessity and I have realized the older I get, the bigger my appetite is and the options?  There has NEVER been a shortage of willing suitors.  Papi is always on stand by, waiting like a fireman for me to pull on that lever and make the call for him to break out his hose.   He’s harmless and is the one who I credit for waking up the handcuff requesting, gentle choking, multi-orgasmic and voyeuristic tendencies alive in me to this day.  Papi has been keeping things exciting for over 14 years.

Of course there’s Rescue and hey- sometimes I might have missed a posting or two, but he and I have been locking limbs off and on since our November break-up.  We make love, passionately and fiery BUT he can no longer be used, not even for that purpose.  Being in love with someone and trying to use them as a booty call is just dangerous and I will miss our moments something terrible.

So that leaves me with one option to soothe me at the end of a long week, or tame the angry tigress after another failure of a date.  The one who has sealed his place in the top 5 lovers of all time – Good on Paper.  Oh yes, him.  He can be quite the obedient one and works well as a f%#k buddy as long as no one tries to add any extras.

In fact, just as MeSoSingle and I were wrapping things up and she decided she would deal with the cute, immature young surfer dude since he had a nice package! I was sending the bat signal to GOP- “I need you at my house in 45 minutes.  Make it happen, understand?”  His reply came within a few minutes and simply stated “Sure”.  A short while later he’s at my door and I’m greeting him in a t shirt and panties but saying I wanted to shower first.  His reply?  I just came from the gym, so let’s shower together.   Since this Sunday evening tryst would take this post in a completely different direction, let me just refer you to one of the last times we “showered” together and leave you with this – boot camp training is making me a lot more limber nowadays.  Mmm… Just the thought of our session makes my mind wander to places it shouldn’t while at the gym, but my song play list is picking up where my mind has left off.

There it is – my recipe for dealing with the burnout from over dating, dealing with the disappointments from the hangovers.  My type is my type, my preferences will not be wavered, my vagina will not be subjected to more mileage by any random dates I may have the hots for.  No batteries will be needed except for supplemental fun to my occasions of intimacy.

Until there’s a cure for the hangovers…

Carmen Jones
myhangovers@gmail.com

 

 

 

How I’m Handling Being Uninterested

As frustrated as I may be with the dating scene and the failure of past relationships, I still have some compassion buried inside. I feel a little bad for how things have ended with Brooklyn’s Finest, but a part of me feels that the situation was handled in a fairly decent manner. My infamous “Take Care” text finalized things with this one who, based on us noting having met, probably isn’t a certifiable hangover.

Being respectful of a person’s time, energy and effort is one of my good traits. Why waste BF’s time?

This man was saying and doing all that a man should if he’s interested in a woman and importantly, wants her to know. The problem is that he was doing too much, too soon.

I’ve tried to wrap my mind around the possibility of someone being so enamoured by me after 3 or 4 conversations (none lasting more than 30 minutes), several text messages, and some online photos. Having decided to delete his profile by day 3 of contact, telling me I was “the one” and sending too many messages saying he was thinking of me was just too much. Hell, I can’t tell if BF’s strong approach was more of a turn off than my reservations about his appearance was. Now you certainly can’t fault the man for recognizing he had come across an attractive, intelligent, and exciting woman (shoulder patting myself), but come on son- why in the world wasn’t HE taking notice that my words and sentiments weren’t being reciprocated?

When BF said “You are beautiful”, I replied “Aw, thank you”.

If he said “Your skin is flawless in your photos”, I replied “You have a great smile”.

After he said “I have faith in you, in us and I can’t wait to make you mine”, I replied “Easy tiger, let’s meet each other first.”

By the fourth day he tells me “I just told my brother and a co-worker about you again, and I’m already planning our next dates, I thought “My friend is trying to convince me that you’ll look completely different in person and I will feel attracted to you”. See, I wasn’t leading him on at all.

So again, did he seem too eager or was I simply unable or unwilling to set aside the feeling I had when looking at his photos over and over and over again.

Whichever the case, by Saturday afternoon I had stopped responding to his text messages. When BF said he opted for teaching during the summer ALL day on a Saturday meant he had nothing else to do, I realized he would be the type of man who wanted to consume ALL of my time as a filler. After he said teaching classes all day was because he had nothing else to do. BF replied soon after that “Pitiful, I know” and ended with another “Thinking of you” text. Nothing more; I stopped replying and did not return any phone calls.

Sunday rolls around and I’m feeling an amazing sense of relief because…. He hadn’t text or called. Monday comes, still nothing. I am fucking e-l-a-t-e-d. He gets it and I don’t feel as bad knowing that this man was really ready to make plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas, along with making room for my car in his garage. Since I knew his special date was planned for today, I just wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding, so I crafted a carefully worded text message and sent it yesterday afternoon. Yes, yes – texting is being used nowadays for sending information that is best for an actual telephone call, but no thanks, I’ll avoid the awkwardness of that kind of discussion.

What is the best way of handling this type of situation and cancelling a first meeting and date? Lie, lie and lie.

A part of me wanted to tell him that he came on too strong, far too soon. At least that way he would know why he has had such a difficult time with online dating. Instead I sent a chicken shit message that said:

“Hi there BF, I’m sure you’ve noticed I have stopped communicating with you. I’ve realized these last couple of days that my life is too hectic right now. I’m sorry, I just don’t have time for anything else. I hope you are able to find a partner for tomorrow’s cruise”. Take care, Carmen.”

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.

The Score

Two days of messaging online which led to me hearing “I need to hear the voice behind that amazing sense of humor and quirky writing style, please call me”.

A four and a half hour telephone conversation which caused resulted in me struggling through the next day, operating on two and a half hours of sleep. The pillow and sun shade became my best friends as I tried to get in a nap at lunch.

Instead, we talked the ENTIRE time and then some.

I can’t emphasis enough how much the word CLICK has been used in our discussions.

So today marks the fourth day, countless hours of phone time from those “I just wanted to hear your voice” sessions in between our lives.

When he said “When can we start dating, I mean let’s get the ball rolling” I laughed. This man didn’t say “let’s hang” or “get together” but, “I’ve got the feeling once we meet, it’s a wrap”.

Mmm hmm.

So we agreed to make our first meeting a brunch date and I let him choose the place. The Four Seasons hotel was his choice. Very nice.

Last night’s conversation concluded at about 3am, although it began with “I won’t be up too late tonight” since we were both tired from a very busy day.

The anticipation is meeting him is insane.

I’m ready for the payoff after countless conversations that left us both saying “how often does this happen!! The disbelief that you can come across a person who is interesting, smart, witty, sarcastic, and more, just like yourself.

So I’m ready for the meet up to match the “in person” showdown with the words and voice I’ve been enjoying all week.

I’m calling this one “The Score”.

More details to come…

Carmen

A Year of Dating Hangovers

One year.  365 days. 53 weeks. 

Several template revisions, three “About Me” rewrites, many lessons learned.

118 posts.  1,071 comments.  Thousands of Spam messages. 

Encounters with an estimated 26 men.  Total of 26 disappointments with men.

Countless expletives.  Many headaches.  Several arguments.  One heartache.

 Happy Blogoversary My Dating Hangovers!

I’m not quite sure how to feel knowing an entire year has passed since I first entered the world of blogging.  Although I started this as a hobby of sorts, to get my feet wet in the realm of online journaling, at times I wondered if I kept knocking down the different men I had encountered to give me a reason to continue writing.

I also wondered if I may have jinxed what I thought could be the end of my dating hangovers by continuing to chronicle what was happening in my relationship with Rescue.  That only stayed in my mind for a moment as I realized it was the person and not the blogging which puts me in the position I am in today.

Unknown relationship Single status.

Here’s an excerpt from my first post a year ago, November 17, 2010:

I’m single, AGAIN, as of Friday, September 10, 2010, slightly overcast, sharing my latest tales with a dear friend,  after dumping the one known as Full Metal Jacket via cell phone at, 7:32pm (not that I can remember or anything).   But don’t worry; this will not be the type of blog that is filled with sob stories and “why me” questions, unrealistic dreams and expectations or any of that fluff stuff.  Just real stories about my experiences and how I moved on from the hangovers which will either make you chuckle, appreciate, or HATE the art of dating.

Emotionally challenged, impotent, stalkers, bipolar, adulterers, fiscally handicapped, imposters, cheaters, alcoholic, obsessive, ADHD, porn-addicted, face-licking, cyber-cheaters, down low, and grammatically challenged men have truly been a lot to stomach.

I’m considering this blog a means of therapy as I rid myself of the toxins of the past creating my own hangover remedies, one post at a time.  On to the next!

I just realized that the way that introduction was written, it didn’t sound as if I had any intentions on finding the RIGHT ONE, instead I simply said “on to the next” and that is exactly what I got.  The next hangover.  Over and over and over again.

The past year has been filled with a lot of strange experiences and moments, and although I’m one week fresh off of hearing what sounded like a statement for re-election (you know – say everything the people want to hear), I can’t say that I haven’t had times I enjoyed the company I was in and the love in my heart from reconnecting with my past.

But hey– that type of tone isn’t the purpose of an anniversary now is it?  Nope, not at all.  Instead, it’s a celebration and a trip down memory lane so for your viewing pleasure (especially to the newer stalkers readers) a timeline and trip through My Dating Hangovers (November 2010 – November 2011):

Okay, so I didn’t exactly take the time to figure out how to PROPERLY insert the time line but you get the picture!

In addition to having chuckled, snorted and laughing out loud reviewing the timeline, I figured I’d pick out my favorite posts or topics:

 Top 5 Favorite Posts  

 –          Until Something Better Comes Along

–          Choosing a Life Partner

–          The Dating Resume

–          Dating the Single Parent

–          Never Date a Religious Hypocrite

 

Top 5 Men I Wish I Never Met

 –          Sybil’s Brother

–          Ghetto 2Pac

–          Good on Paper

–          Full Metal Jacket

–          Tupperware Man (don’t ask – I totally forgot about him but trust, he’s nuts!)

 

 

Top 5 Moments to Remember

 

–         Reunionw/Rescue

–          Prince concert w/Rescue

–          First date with Tall Glass of Wine

–          First date with USBC

–          Bedroom encounter w/Black Russian

 

 

 

And finally – two mini statements from the two men whose company I truly enjoyed and had figured out one of the small secrets to my happiness was laughter:

Tall Glass of Wine:

How often is it that you can meet someone who is able to carry on great
conversation, knows how to behave at the dinner table, can get down on the
dance floor, knows how to hold their liquor AND also loves Prince?

And of course…

Rescue 911:

Rescue makes me happy, makes me laugh, understands me, is affectionate, a great lover, communicates with me, shares his dreams, likes Prince, accepts me and all my flaws, understands my love of a wig collection, and above all – is my friend.

So what’s next?

I haven’t a clue but I DO know I would much rather have a blog titled “Let’s Stay Together”.

Searching for the cure…

Carmen Jones

 

There’s just this one thing…

To be considered for my future profile picture

It’s about time I start having some good news to share so guess who had a nice date this weekend?  Yes, it’s true.  A nice sunny day, good eats and great conversation with plenty of laughter is how Second Chance and I enjoyed a Sunday afternoon.

You know there’s always a story behind the naming of a hangover, so here’s how he received his.  This wasn’t our first encounter as Second Chance had initially contacted me almost a month ago on POF, but he failed.  Miserably.  We’d exchanged numbers after a few messages back and forth online and as I said I would, made that first phone call and left a message for a call back.  The dude NEVER called.  Of course I was a little annoyed pissed knowing I’m a good catch for anyone on that site, but brushed it off and went on about my business.  About a week or two later, I get a message from him saying “Hi, I’m sorry I’m just now contacting you but I lost your number.  What is it again or can you just give me a call back?”

Umm… no.

I snidely replied that he made it obvious that he’s bad at following up for losing the number in the first place, and he was even more of a loser by waiting so long to follow up, explain and apologize.  I wished him good luck and told him I’d have to pass on giving out my number a second time and went on about my business.  He was taken aback by my reply but understood, and that was the end of him.  Until his second attempt which was a little more appealing:

Sometimes we want what is bad, and loathe what is good for us. Whatever the
reality is that we create, it is what it is. Your smile reminds me of something
I once knew. It made me feel good, reminded me of home. I know our paths didn’t
cross properly but they still crossed... So I’m saying hello again. Please don’t take me
as some internet looking- for-love type guy..."

Alright, so the first part seemed a little cheesy but the tone of the message seemed quite sincere, so when I received this second message from him about 2 weeks ago, I stepped outside of the halls of stubbornness and decided to see if he was worthy of an exception so I agreed to talk to him.  I made it perfectly clear that he’d better make it worth my while by me communicating with him and within an hour of getting my number, this time he called and so began one of several refreshing conversations.

Those first few phone calls that you have with someone new are actually pre-meeting screening tools.  You have the ability to gauge based on how they carry on over the phone, number of interruptions and need for a call back and just the general flow of things to decide if you’re dealing with someone you’d even want to meet. 

What I liked about Second Chance leading up to our meeting was his warm and outgoing personality; he’s educated and well spoken but also has some street smarts.  He has a great career as an engineer for a major telecommunications company, lives alone and only has one child, showcased a sense of humor and loves the San Francisco bay area as much as I do.  Needless to say, it was only a short period of time before we were both asking ‘When are we going to meet?”  

Sounds good so far, right?

Fast forward to Thursday evening, and another phone conversation where we shared a few stories and plenty of laughs and the date was planned.   Second Chance told me he would work around my schedule (yahoo, loved hearing that), the destination was my choice (I’m a breakfast nut so that was easy) and said I could consider our outing as a belated Mother’s Day treat.  Aw, how sweet.

So how about that first meeting/date?  Well…. here’s what he did well:

 – Called to confirm the meeting time and place the night before
 – Checked in the day of to confirm I was still able to make it
 – Called to advise when he was en route
 – Waited outside the restaurant for me (remember story about Ghetto 2Pac)
 – Freshly shaven, clean clothes, shoes, nails and teeth and smelled GREAT
 – Smiled to show he was REALLY happy to see me
 – Complimented what I was wearing and said my hair was “beautiful”  (yes, it was pretty damn cute!!)
 – Told me how happy he was we’d finally met
 – Able to carry on a conversation without any uncomfortable moments of silence
 – Laughed at my jokes and stories (Yay!)
 – Was courteous to the waitress AND left an appropriate tip

After all of this, it sounds like a date that went off without a hitch, right?  The only thing left is the question of what he looked like and does he look anything like this profile pictures?  I guess I didn’t mention it in the beginning because of all of the guilt one of my friends tried to lay on me when I complained about this one little thing.   

Here’s how you go from excited to being disappointed in 30 seconds.

Thank goodness I’d arrived early AND was able to park facing the direction Second Chance would be coming from, because this prepared me for all that I was about to see.  I saw him as he turned the corner into the shopping center, I watched him as his legs took him across the parking lot to the front entrance.  I watched my expression in my rearview mirror go from happy thoughts and anticipation to a loud sigh that sounded like a deflated air mattress as I quickly sized up a stocky man who probably stood no taller than 5 foot 3 inches tall.  He is too damn short!

I know, I’ve been down this road before with USBC and no matter how many times I hear that I should just roll with it and give a guy a chance, even if he is vertically challenged, there’s something about a short man that just doesn’t do it for me.  I feel bad even writing this because he is a nice guy, we got along well and I wouldn’t mind seeing him again but damn.   I think I even may have had him by a few inches because my range of view was more of his forehead when we were standing instead of his eyes and I was wearing some pretty conservative heels (only about 3 inches).

Naturally, if there’s something about a person that stands out it eventually becomes more of a distraction to the point where I started feeling a little weird because I kept noticing how short his legs and arms were and that his hands were about the same size as my little miniature paws.  It was so bad to the point of me nearly asking “How tall ARE you?” 

I didn’t ask; in fact, there was probably no indication in my mannerisms whatsoever that I was anything other than pleased.  I enjoyed the company, the food was good and as we continued our conversation I’d already classified him as having potential for a cool friend to do things with and that would probably be it.

Say what you want about me but it is a well known fact that out of all of the shortcomings some women will deal with, the height thing is not one of them.

Sigh.

One man at a time?

 

Why is it that things seem to be going well with someone new and suddenly come to a screeching halt?  Did I jinx myself by telling a friend about the wonderful things I liked about Silver Lining only to be followed up by my reasons why things would NOT work out with him?

Am I so jaded on the dating scene after having dealt with loser after loser, weirdo after weirdo and liar after liar that my negative thoughts are somehow ruining any chances I might have at meeting someone wonderful?

It it unreasonable for someone to expect to be the only person I’m working on at a time, even though he hasn’t put in the minimum number of hours required for a permanent position?

I mean really, SL seems like a really good catch.  Not only is he good on paper and has the types of qualities in a man I’d mentioned in my last post but he’s also very open and direct, seeming to know exactly what he wants in life and more importantly, in a woman.  If this is the case and since I’d left from that meeting with a decent impression of him, why is it that before the sugar from that macchiato could even circulate through my bloodstream I was already preparing myself for a let down of some sort and of course, it happened. 

The daily phone calls stopped, the text messages a few times a day went away and about every other day or so, someone would initiate a “Good morning, how are you”, followed by a some small talk.  When SL’s children came over for their 4-day stint, he was missing in action the entire time yesterday I called him and told him he’d fallen off.  I told him there isn’t a grey area with me – you’re either really digging me or you’re not.  Plain and simple, so what happened?

SL agreed he’d fallen off and said it was something we should fix, but when I initially asked what happened he didn’t have a reply.  I really should get out of the habit of presenting an explanation for someone instead of allowing them to tell me reasons for their actions, but I asked if the reason he stopped the consistency of contact was because (1) he goes radio silent to spend time with his kids or (2) I’m still too new to the calling plan to really care.  SL replied that it was a little of both.

Liar.

Not even five minutes later he tells me the real reason he’d stopped trying to build something with me is because I have “too many men in my life”.  Say what?  Do I?

Perhaps when he asked me about my dating habits I should have applied the less is more strategy.  I was up front with SL and explained that I am actively dating (I mean damn, WE met on the same dating site so he should know this right?), but that just as he’d shared, had an ex in the wings as well.  Was there anyone other than the ex who was getting my time regularly?  No.  Was there anyone I was even remotely interested in pursuing anything with that I was dating?  No.

Yet still, instead of him telling me his concerns, he attempted the easy way out by slowly backing off from communication and says it was important for him to be dealing with a woman who has no OTHER men that they’re dealing with.  Being able to focus on one person, build a rapport and spend enough time with each other to feel your way around for possible relationship material.  Okay, I get that.

Still, to me it just doesn’t seem smart to put all of your eggs in one basket, you know?  I guess it’s me who is caught up in the “there might be something better” syndrome so for now, I’m not really in agreement with becoming exclusive with someone I’ve only seen once and the communication isn’t all that constant.  Isn’t dating all about having a variety of choices and like going through a bag of beans, narrowing down the ones that can be used and discarding the not so good is part of the process, right?  But am I possibly missing out on something great that is right in front of me?

Only time will tell. 

Carmen ~

Fresh Meat

The CalmToo Good To Be TrueThe Artist

Last week I began exchanging messages with a man who probably had one of the most detailed profiles I’ve encountered thus far and yes (gasp), one that was grammatically intact.  If you’ve ever been able to read the words written by a person and feel like you have a pretty good idea what they’re about, this was one of those instances.   I struggled with what I would call him and initially hinted that he would be “The Calm”, but that was before we met.

His profile tells the world that he works hard and plays hard, about his interest in different types of movies from Star Trek to Finding Forrester to Enter the Dragon.  He is descriptive with his words, open and direct about where he came from, what he was looking for in his future and who he was interested in meeting.  Best of all, he is a man of many talents.

Our messages began with the basic getting-to-know-you type of questions and comments and once we each passed the screening process, agreed that we wanted to communicate by telephone.  A few conversations later, a meeting was arranged.

Allow me to introduce to the fresh meat of the week whose pesuedonym means:  A comforting or hopeful aspect of an otherwise desperate or unhappy situation.

On a mild Sunday afternoon at one of the most popular meet up places, Starbucks, Silver Lining (hereafter known as “SL”) and I enjoyed good conversation over his regular coffee and my Grande Macchiato.  Although his flight had just returned to LA, he was still on time, and soon I’d met up with a nicely dressed, clean cut and shaven man with great teeth, a nice warm smile and hallelujah – someone who looked just like his profile pictures and acted like the man behind the words.  Insert sigh of relief here.

SL and I talked for nearly two hours and touched on nearly everything including our children, his previous marriage and our past relationships, to the types of people we can’t deal with, family backgrounds, education and work.  Our lifestyles, likes and dislikes, hobbies and aspirations, my actual name.

Just about anything you can think of was discussed as we sat on that bench while enjoying the breeze blowing on a mild spring day.  So refreshing to be in good company, so pleasing was the openness of the conversation. 

Surely I could go on and on about the details of this meeting and the things I’d learned, but instead I’ll share my highlights:

 12 Things I Like about Him (So Far)

  1. Is not still searching for himself
  2. Seems to understand parenting
  3. Speaks eloquently
  4. Has a diverse background
  5. Is very intellectual
  6. He’s  driven
  7. Still interested in marriage
  8. Direct and to the point without being an a-hole
  9. Loves to write
  10. Is a photographer 
  11. Favorite movie is Love Jones (bonus)
  12. Believes in chivalry

The saying goes if it seems too good to be true, it probably is so I won’t jinx myself.   This was only  the first meeting and while he passed with flying colors, I’ll have to see how he acts in different situations, different surroundings.

Something I found interesting was what SL said to me at the conclusion of our meet up – “I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon, though I’ve not yet figured out in what capacity that will be in”.  I raised an eyebrow and chuckled at the vagueness of this statement, but left it at that.

I’ll sit back and observe and see how things play out and while I probably shouldn’t add him to the Hangovers tab just yet, his bio will be posted shortly.

 Stay tuned…..

Carmen ~