January 31, 2011
As I sit here, I look at my profile pic from my online dating site and look at my hair, my makeup, the great dress that shows off my (eh hem) assets. All my pictures are pretty true to how I look in real life, or at least I hope. Most of my dates have recognized me the minute I walked in or should I say, when they walked in (being perpetually early is a big issue for me that I am trying to overcome).
My picture is a great picture, my friend Cisco took the photo last month. I went over to his house and he has this really great spread for taking photos since he is a professional photographer. I was in my element on that day. I chose three outfits, two which were actually outfits and the third...well let's just say that fredricks of hollywood would have blushed at what I was wearing. It was one of the most fun days I have had in a long time that was just for me. He took some photos of me in my favorite black dress, some of me in a pair of black pants and some of me with just a book and some kick ass black boots. Yep, that's right, just a book. I have never felt so sexy in my life and when those photos came back to me I wanted to put them on my christmas card and post them on facebook. I wanted to send them to all my ex's and say "look what you are missing jack ass." The few people that I did show these to gasped and asked me to send them a copy. As much as I would be honored to be the object of their masturbation, I would have to say that these photos will remain in my possession until Maxim comes knocking on my door for their "milf's" edition.
Yeah, those pics were hot.
Today, on the other hand, I look like a "don't" segment in the back of glamour. I am presently wearing slippers, t-shirt, shorts and my maternity bathrobe. Yes, maternity bathrobe. My hair is soaking wet from the shower I just took and at last glance was parted down the middle and resembling squiggy from laverne and shirley. Yeah,...this picture is NOT hot.
That is the good thing about online dating, though. You can hide behind this hot photo and sit in your bathrobe and green aveda mask and still be sexy. The day that online dating uses skype I am screwed!!! I better hang up my laptop on that very day because I am not going to get a date looking like this.
Looking like this....
I think about how I look on a daily basis. How I resemble a lesbian baseball player or one of those poor people from "what not to wear." My work has me surrounded by mostly 30 somethings in business suits connected to their cell phones. I make them sandwiches, smile sweetly at them, call them "hon" and they look at me with about as much interest as the old lady greeting people at walmart. "yeah yeah yeah, welcome to walmart, let me get my cart and leave me alone." Don't these people know that this is my only sense of socializing with an individual that is not drinking out of a juice box and eating animal crackers? Don't they know that the four seconds of them ignoring me can be the equivalent of me standing at the bar with drink in hand hoping they ask me to dance? But all I do is make their sandwich, hope for a match made in lunch heaven and bid them farewell.
Most of them never look at me twice. They are as interested in me as they are in meeting their third cousin removed from their mom's side at a family reunion while a football game is on.
I think guys should have to wear something that shows they are taken. Maybe I will invent a tie that lights up with the words "don't even attempt" . Girlfriends could buy them for their boyfriends so they won't get hit on by the chic making their sandwich. I am always the girl that makes the sandwich for the hot guy, notices he is not wearing a ring, then slyly will walk over to their table and try to chat them up, only to be boxed out by "susie size one" and her little halter top and perfect hair. She swivels her barbie hips in front of me and sits down next to hot guy and plants her mary poppins purse on the table with a thud. Her shoes are black leather and her jeans could fit my cabbage patch kids. I head back to the counter and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I am wearing no makeup, have mustard on my apron and marinara sauce on my right sneaker...yeah. I would choose the first girl too.
this isn't the first time I have felt invisible. Many times I have walked into a bar and even the bouncer doesn't glance my way. I don't think it's that I am not appealing, I just think I don't have that "thing" about me that makes guys go "wow." A guy once told me "you know, you are actually pretty cute once you get to know you." I sat there contemplating which of his arms I wanted to rip off and beat him with and came back at him with..."you know you are the reason alcohol was invented."
Needless to say, he got the hint.
I met a guy online one time that constantly was emailing me. I would get home and find a couple of emails from him just asking me how I was and that he was thinking of me.
Awww...how sweet is that?
DO NOT FALL FOR THIS LINE OF BULL SHIT!!
Oh, but I did....and I went out with this "sweet" guy. I should have known by the time of night he picked to meet for that drink, that he was going to be a jack ass. This is how the conversation went...
"hey Sarah, it's Doug"
"hi doug...it's sarah"
"I was wondering if you could meet for a drink tonight at Eddy V's"
"sure, I have never been there before, sounds great"
-enter panic mode to find babysitter, do 1400 situps in next ten minutes, wonder when the last time was I shaved my legs, check breath mint inventory in purse-
"yeah, let's meet up there around, say, 10:30."
pause...see if you heard him right.
"10:30?"
"yeah"
-wonder if they have brunch at elite steakhouse-
"10:30 at night?"
"yeah, is that cool?"
-wonder when last time stayed up past 9:30 pm-
"uh, yeah, that works for me. see you then"
Prior to the date I consumed exactly one pot of coffee, one red bull and bled internally from the pressure applied to inside of right thigh in effort to stay awake.
Hmm...going out at 10:30 at night. I got into the shower and was ready to go at exactly 6:45pm. Yeah, I told you I have an issue getting to places early, but will not attempt to show up to a date when the waitstaff is having their pre shift meeting about the potatoes featured that evening.
I managed to stay away from sitting on the couch which would have thrown me into a coma and opted for organizing my dresser drawers and making my bed.
I met him at 10:30 that night and was greeted by the cocktail waitress. "what can I get you guys?" I look over the drink menu for anything containing large amounts of espresso or cocaine so that I may stay awake for at least one drink. I opted for something with diet coke and we had small talk.
Doug was funny.
Doug thought Doug was really funny too. He had many stories and never looked at me long enough to be able to tell you what color shirt I was wearing. I figured he was shy and we spent the next few hours listening to Doug tell Doug about Doug.
After we left, he made mention about going to another bar and wanted to know if I wanted to join him. I rummaged through my purse for my keys amongst the matchbox cars and box of raisins and wondered if this guy ever woke up before lunch time. "nah, I gotta get home. Maybe another time." I climbed into the car and almost opted for pulling off the highway to sneak in a 10 minute nap.
I am almost ashamed to say that I went out on a second date with him. But..there was so much more to learn about Doug than Doug had already told me. -did he even know my first name?-
The second night, he asked me if I was interested in meeting him and some friends out. I did not have Sam so I said, sure!! Since it was the early afternoon, I could physically go to bed and get up and showered and ready by the time our date started. Here is how this conversation went:
"so, you want to meet over at my place?"
"ah,...just tell me what bar you are going to, I will meet you there."
"well all of us are meeting here first for a few drinks and then we are going to walk over to the bar from here. they should all be here in about an hour, so come over whenever."
-hesitate-"mmm..ok. Where do you live?"
Now, I will tell you that I am the most directionally challenged person there is. When I moved from Wisconsin to Vegas I had my mom come because I was afraid I would end up in Maine. Maps mean nothing to me, directions might as well be in Russian. Unless you are standing on the corner waving a giant arrow saying "turn here Sarah" I will be lost for hours.
He gives me the address, and I punch it into my gps which tells me for ten minutes that "you are now off track".
"bitch, I hope I am off track, I am circling a grocery store parking lot right now. Unless he lives in the produce section, I am definitely off track".
I call him and ask him to give me the name of his apartment complex. He gives me a name and I again circle the street and curse at the bitch on my gps. After ten minutes and more profanity shouted than eminem in his song lyrics, I find that I have been parked in front of his building the entire time, but maintenance was painting the apartment, so they removed the sign from the building.
Frazzled and ready to strangle him, I show up at his place. He walks with me to his apartment which by now has to have all of his friends drinking and ready to go to the bar.
The only thing in his apartment is a leather couch and a 145" tv. Nobody else.
I am brought back to my dateline commentary with the dell guy and wonder how I could be so dumb. Did anyone know i came here? I should have dropped a business card outside my car door in case the authorities try and look for me. I should have called my parents and told them I loved them, I should have eaten that kit kat in the freezer....so...not .....good.
"uh,...so where are your friends?"
"oh, they should be here soon"
-ok, so at least someone will be able to find the body.-
"do you want a drink?"
"yeah, sure."
We make our way to the patio and sit and drink a beer. He fondles his phone like it's a genie in a bottle and continues to adorn me with stories about Doug. Wow, this guy is really into himself. Maybe he wouldn't even realize if I left?
After what seems like forever, he starts to tell me about how he is reading this book called the game and wants to know if I have ever heard of it.
I have not
"well, it's this book about online dating and how you can send an email to 10 girls and it is fool proof to give you a 99% return on a date. here, want to see the emails I got today?"
I glance at the door and wonder if I can find myself out of this apartment complex and back to my car.
"uh, sure."
I read the email and it is something that you read and go "oh my God, you have GOT to be kidding me."
It was very textbook and had all this bullshit about how he just wanted to meet a nice girl and was tired of the game.
You jackass, isn't that what you are doing is playing a game?
I look over at a glass bottle on the bar and wonder if he would feel it if I threw it at him or if his "magic ego barrier" would repel it.
"so, you want to see my bedroom? I have a really comfortable bed, you won't want to leave."
Enter scratching of needle to record here.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"yeah my bed, it's memory foam. Want to check it out?"
I glance around and look to see if there are any cameras in the living room with a director ready to yell CUT.
"what about your friends?"
"uh, yeah, they called, they pussed out, they aren't coming."
I am ashamed to say that I even got myself into that situation. I stood up and thanked him for the beer than let myself out. He did not even walk me to my car.
Mental note to keep business cards with word "help, kidnapped by MORON" in purse next to matchbox cars and raisins.
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