Pizza Face

Morning!

Let me start off this short post with a quick background on my personal preference in men...at least physically. I am a mixed, half black & white woman. I only date white men. Yes, yes make all the judgments and comments you want, I've gotten it all.

Now, I always get the question from men, "Why do you only date white guys?" and my standard response is something along the lines of, "The same reason you like a particular kind of pizza over another...you just do".

So I get a message this morning asking the "Why do you only date white guys?", I send my standard response...and this is what he tells me...

 "Hope you like pepperoni on your white men! I have lots of acne...lol. jk."

Yea...that's not cute. I responded with "lol". You know the universal response that means 'I have no idea what to say right now'? ...Awkward! 

Nicknames

Hello out there,

Ok I know I’ve been MIA, BUT have no fear…this summer brought out the winner of my dating tragedies…

Site meet on: Plentyoffish.com

It’s memorial day weekend and everyone’s equipped with their sexiest bikinis and best jersey shore abs to show off at the lake and have a full day of fun in the blazing sun. I was no exception, except I had a dress on, the world was not ready for me in a bikini. I was invited to go to a bbq with this dude I met online, and his buddies. I agreed, since he was a nice fellow, and I had nothing else to do. My good friend insisted she come also, just in case he was a crazed serial killer who chops girls up and grills them as his summer sport. She’s a good friend.

We carpooled to his place. I drive through his neighborhood that was getting progressively worse by the second. We get to his place, and it was defiantly not a looker, and neither was he, but hey who’s judging? He ends up driving with us and I instantly thought, this will not end well.

We show up to the lake (with many twists and turns due to his terrible memory) and set up for the day. The three of us start talking, and his “wonderful” qualities are revealed. No job (awesome), no education (ITT tech does not count), no goals (fantastic). Somehow, the topic of taxes comes up, and guess what? He doesn’t believe in them! It progresses to the topic of weed. He doesn’t think weed is so bad, not so bad, that he use to sell it at night clubs.  

Fun fact: The cops busted into his house “by accident” and confiscated his weed. Don’t worry though, charges weren’t brought, phew!  At this point I want to hurl myself into the river and hope a strong current whisks me away.

Luckily (or so I thought), he leaves to find his friends. Ten-ish minutes later a group of guys and  gals stroll up. One guy looks around and asks me “hey miss, is this Coop's spot”. Confused I respond, “excuse me?" He says "Nate, is this his spot?" I say, “yes”. Now, I wish I can remember all their names but my memory is stuck on one name, Stomp. Yes, that’s right, his name was Stomp, it was tatted all over his right arm to show us just how proud of his gangster life he really was. Everyone else also had a catchy gangster name, but Stomp's was the best.

At this point Nate, aka Coop, was playing football down at the lake and I was left….alone…hoping I wouldn't become a part of a gang initiation ceremony. Finally, I hear someone say “...this nigga, left his gun in my car last week!” and everyone starts laughing…

Uh excuse me but last I checked, leaving an armed weapon in someone’s car is NOT a laughing matter! I look at my friend, and finally decided I pushed my luck, way to long! I make up a sorry excuse and tell Coop that I had a emergency and my friend and I had to leave...immediately. 

Needless to say we did not end up happily ever after...

Advice: when gangsters roll up on your date, that’s when you immediately, roll out! 

Root Beer

Happy Thursday! 

Since yesterday’s original story was postponed due to my “farmer” it’s now time to share my date from hell story! Also, this is a long one! 

When? Winter(ish) 2010. 

Site we meet: OkCupid

For the purposes of this story the name of my date will be named “Max”…

Aight, now let’s get started…

We decide that we want to go to Outback Steakhouse. My apt is literally a 10 min walk to the restaurant, so I suggested we walk. Well, he did not like this decision, he was “tired” from work and it was to “cold” for him. Mind you he was wearing a sweatshirt and a beanie… Finally, after a little convincing we trek the harsh 70 degree weather and make our way to Outback. 

We start chatting as we’re looking over menus and he explains how he’s an art major…because it is easy, how much he loves vodka redbull and how many plans he doesn’t have for the future…Winner!

We order food and here is where the date just south even quicker.

He asks the waiter for a rootbeer, the waiter nicely says “I’m sorry sir, we do not have rootbeer” and names off the list of what they do have. Max then asks “well what do you have that tastes like rootbeer”, the waiter, perplexed, looks at him as if he’s nuts (which he is) and says, “Umm sir, I’m not to sure…”. So Max then goes on to ask “well how about you mix Dr. Pepper with Pepsi…would that work?” The waiter shakes his head by now utterly confused and probably thinks it is a joke at this point. Finally, after all that Max orders a Sprite.

Onto his entree…Max wants fries…but he also wants to know what seasoning come on these fries, what cut these fries are and if he can just have them with only salt and pepper. Waiter writes it down, probably trying to refrain himself from taking his pad of paper and giving him paper cuts all over his body. Next, Max wants a burger…now on this burger he wants nothing but a plain hamburger pattie with NO condiments…BUT with 2 pickels. Yes that’s right, only 2 pickles…3 is clearly entirely to many, maybe the acidity is bad for his complexion? 

After some awkward small talk, including accusing me of checking out and flirting with our waiter, our food comes. When the waiter asks “anything else I can get you”, Max responses with “yea, can I get some mustard?”, after he made a big stink about wanting NO condiments on his burger. OK  fine, whatever. Then he opens up his burger and low and behold…there are 3 pickles on his burger…now a normal mentally stable person would just take it off and disregard it, nope not Max. He freaks out, and I mean he complains to the waiter, clearly upset that more than 2 pickles are consuming his burger pattie. The waiter apologizes and even offers to have another one made, with attitude Max says “no, whatever, its fine” and waves him off. 

Dinner progresses, I get so annoyed to the point where I’m people watching around the room hoping to find someone who is in a more awkward position as I am. He interupts my gazes when he asks “Hey I finished my soda, can I have some of yours?”

Side Note: WHO DOES THAT?! We’re at a restaurant, you get free refills! No I don’t want your grungy lips on anything of mine!!  

At  this point I respond with “sure you can have some, but please don’t give it back” and he happily takes my soda…BUT not without saying that my cherry Pepsi tastes to much like cherry. Bah, whatever…

The bill FINALLY comes (I already planned on paying for my own meal), and he takes the bill, looks at it, grabs a menu, does the calculations for what it “should be” and says to me “man you’re an expensive date”. At this point I’m so irritated and annoyed I say “Excuse me?”. Noticing my mood he comes back with “well I’ll pay for it, but I was just saying”. I respond with “can you please just pay, I want to go home”. So he does pay, however, I notice that the bill was around 45 dollars, and he only put down enough to cover MAYBE a 2 dollar tip…

When we leave I feel so bad I turn around (making an excuse that I have to use the restroom) and find our waiter and hand him $20 bucks. I couldn’t let my piece of trash date, ruin his night too!!

Needless to say I never spoke to him again after that night…