A brave new world…

I am charting new territory…

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Oh My, you don’t say…

Part 2 of How Interesting…and the plot thickens

My mouth dropped open…and it stayed open for at least 5 seconds, an uncomfortable 5 seconds. Long enough for it to be noticeable, but not so long that anything could fly into my mouth. After about 4.5 seconds I realized my mouth was still open and I shut it immediately. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what the proper response should be. I looked down into my lap and repositioned my napkin. More so to give myself a few moments to determine what I was going to say next. Should I play off my surprised mouth drop, lie and say I knew, or completely change the subject? I was embarrassed over my open mouth and I am sure I was turning pink. It wasn’t that he was Philippino, it was that I had no idea, and I had to go and act all surprised. I didn’t know if my look was oh wow or oh no. It was definitely oh wow, but sometimes my facial expressions don’t cooperate with my emotions. I would have never guessed it. He doesn’t look it. His eyes aren’t really hooded (of course on second inspection I notice that yeah they could be considered hooded) and they aren’t slanted (well very slightly on second inspection). He has a creamy tan color, one that looks like he lives in the south like every other southerner. His head is bald, but he does have a very short mustache, but the hair didn’t give any hints either. I’m just thinking wow this is crazy. I had not a clue. Nothing in his conversation alerted me either.

“You didn’t know. Did you?”

I look up from my lap. Now I’m inspecting the features of his face looking for the dead give-aways.

“[He] didn’t tell you did he?”

“Nope.” There is a pleasant smile on my face as I shake my head no.

“Is it a big deal?” Now I’m thinking omg my face probably looked hectic if he asked this question, and now I have to assure him that it was more that I had not a clue.

“No, not at all. It’s not even an issue. I just.” I let out one of those flustered crazy sounds when you blow air through your lips while they are still together and shake my head. “It’s just I couldn’t even tell. I would have never suspected anything unless you said something.”

“I always bring it up, people aren’t always cool about it. I feel it’s important that I share it with women I chose to date.”

“Well I appreciate your honesty, but it’s not an issue. I’m actually very intrigued.”

I kind of giggle thinking in my head that fate decided to send me out on an interracial date without my knowledge and despite my hesitations. This alleviates the pressure to make a decision, the decision has been made for me. We were technically on our second date And it wasn’t the least bit complicated, confusing, or even different. It was like any other date I’ve been on, only difference I was really interested. I guess it’s true you will attract what you think about or maybe life has just given me a little push to be open.

How interesting…and the plot thickens…

The other day I posted that I was ruminating over the idea of going out with someone of a different racial background or trying Something New. The idea is in heavy rotation in my mind. Thinking and pondering is what I do when I’m considering making a change with anything. Sometimes it takes me months, even years to decide. I’m notoriously indecisive, but I’m actively working to change that. Mostly because if you think about something to long your reasoning becomes circular and you come to the same conclusion even if you think you analyzed it differently. In some ways I am strangely fascinated with the idea of it, but on the flip side I’m very nervous. It’s like I’m anxious to find out what will happen because I think it will be different. Why I think it will be so different? I do not know.

So while my decision to date outside “my kind” is simmering on the burner, a friend of a friend offered to introduce me to someone. I think this is an excellent way to meet people so I agreed to the introduction. The introduction turned into “Hey, we are going to go hang out meet us downtown for drinks.” This was perfect because there’s no real pressure and we can both decide if we want to pursue this. I arrived late, but it gave me an opportunity to check him out before I approached the group and I liked what I saw. After sitting down, the group dispersed and it was so high-school everyone shot me side winks and thumbs up as they left. He was great, a professional, cute, no kids, never been married, in my 35-45 target age bracket and funny. I was thinking wow when I left and hoped that he felt the same way. We exchanged information and I wanted him to reach out sooner rather than later. I almost broke the cardinal rule of making the first call, but decided to hold myself “Whoa Kimosabe!” I was just going to call and tell him I really enjoyed meeting him, but I didn’t want to seem too eager.

To my delight he called the next day and asked me out on a real date. We decided to meet up after work for dinner. Our dinner conversation was of the second date variety, since we had pretty much asked all of the basic getting to know you questions when we met. However he decided to ask the question that I hate “So what are you looking for in a man?” This is the most generic question ever and I generally give back a very generic check list of ideal traits in a man. He laughed at my facetious responses which gained him an extra 25 cool points because he got my humor. Then he said,

“Okay enough with answering a question you obviously don’t want to answer. How do you feel about interracial dating?”

He instantly has my attention because Hello! this has been the topic of intense mental debate. So I respond, “I’m open to it.” And I responded like it’s the most natural and sensible thing to do.

“Have you ever dated someone?”

“In college, I went out on a few dates, but nothing serious.”

“But you’re open to it?

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I was so wrong for acting like it wasn’t an issue, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I’ve met a lot of people who are close minded about interracial dating. Before I invest myself in getting to know someone I like to make sure they are cool with it, so it won’t become a problem in the future.”

“Okay, I’m cool, but why does it matter? I mean I embrace diversity.” I’m trying to figure out the correlation in my mind with us and what this has to do with anything. Is he going to draw some type of conclusion about how I feel about say hunger from my response.

“You know I’m Philippino, right?”

My mouth dropped open…

Continued tomorrow

Something New…

I know that love can come in all different shapes, sizes, sorts, but am I ready to cross the color line? This weekend I saw a movie called Something New on Oxygen that explored the topic of interracial dating. I know, I know it’s 2009, America is a melting pot, Obama is president and clearly race is becoming irrelevant, but I still see rainbow hues. 

I’ve always thought that culture, environment and upbringing determined a person’s color identity. This is how I explain for example “White” Asians, “Black” Whites and “White” Blacks. Despite embracing diversity I have never seriously considered dating anyone outside of my race. In college, I did go out with a few guys (all blind dates), but I’ve never really took them or the date seriously. I never even went on a second date with any of them. I must admit that I have always assumed I would be with someone of the same race. Up until recently it was not even a possibility because I was never approached by men outside of my race. I’m not sure what has happened, undoubtedly something has shifted in the universe, or maybe it’s because I smile more, but it has been a rainbow coalition of men approaching me.

I have not really been sure how to handle it. I initially felt uncomfortable, that word may be too strong, I initially felt suspicious, like maybe I was on some hidden camera show. When I have been approached I’ve always turned to look behind me to see if I was indeed being spoken to. Even though the experiences seemed odd, but flattering, it has made me very aware of the interracial possibilities. What is crazier is that in the past two months no one of “my kind” has approached me, so if I want to date right now I’m going to have to entertain the idea of crossing the color line.

But I have my concerns…

I do believe there will be difficulties. I know that people who don’t share the same cultural backgrounds may have trouble finding common ground. I think that is what concerns me most.  I also think there may be some barriers to understanding one another because we are from different backgrounds. I also wonder if the individual really finds me attractive. I don’t want to be exotic, I want to be what they truly desire no matter what the color. I also wonder if I will be self conscience of what I say. I am generally the least concerned with what people think of or assume about me. It’s my world and everyone else is just in it. However, when in like and in love, I know I would want to please and definitely not offend. I know I would have to watch my mouth. And if that’s the case, would I be able to truly be myself? I also worry about the identity of our children or should I say possible identity confusion. Although I’m sure well adjusted mixed race children do exist, as well as parents of mixed race children who do provide a culturally enriched childhood that draws on both backgrounds, but all the mixed race children I know have issues. Most of them identify with one side and it’s generally the one they look most like and aren’t some type of a cultural hybrid. They also tend to have identity crises that manifest themselves in college or during their early adult life, which causes them to shun the race they identified with before the crisis and cling to the one that has long been ignored. I know I shouldn’t be concerned about children when dating, but I am.

Despite my concerns I am really thinking about going on a test date. Plus I know being open minded will ultimately increase the number of suitable suitors, but am I really ready to try something new?

Deal Breaker #17 Geographically Challenged…

It’s that time again to discuss unlikely deal breakers. I will admit that some of them are ridiculous, but it’s my life (and I’m getting older and set in my ways). Plus, I have had a rash of incidences that have made me focus and get serious about what I can and can not deal with.

Everyone knows that a man being geographically undesirable can be a deal breaker. One who is geographically undesireable generally leaves states away in a far off distant land. I myself have imposed this rule, which has impacted me deeply because some people I have been really fond of were ruled out because they lived outside the state. Some really heart my heart, but I would rather be alone than suffer the pangs of loneliness caused by someone not being around when I want them to be. I’ve been in long distance relationships, so I’ve dealt with that type of loneliness and it can get ugly.

However, today I have a new deal breaker that falls in the geography category. This one I will call Geographically Challenged. These are people who live a distance that is farther than you want to travel. To be honest I don’t want to travel more than 10 miles to go anywhere, is that 15 minutes? Whatever it is mileage wise I know that I don’t want to be in a car for more than 15 minutes traveling to see a beau. And it’s not the gas, it’s the distance.

Anyone who knows me knows I do not like to drive. It’s an evil part of adulthood that I unfortunately have to suffer through now. One day I will have a driver to take me everywhere I need to go. Until then I keep my driving to the minimum. All the essential trips that I have to take are no more than 15 minutes from my house, including my mother’s house.

So why does fate keep sending me people who leave FAR away from me?  Crazy places that are outside of the perimeter and take a minimum of 30 minutes of travel time. I would love to find someone who lives in my neighborhood, but people are moving farther out to outlandish places that might as well be another state. I understand you can get more house for your money, but fiscal responsibility sometimes leads to ridiculous drive times.

What is crazy about this problem is that it’s not something that I immediately know, but will soon start asking. The drive time initially isn’t a problem because on the first few dates I always meet my date out. I generally don’t like for people to know where I live, so once I get comfortable I will generally venture out to the perspective beau’s house. This is when things get ugly, or at least recently. I had to tell one guy that he had to meet me somewhere in the middle. Another perspective I told flat out you live too far this is not going to work. I know that relationships are a two way street and if I am not willing to make the commute I can’t commit.

It’s me, it’s really me…

I have been in the dating doldrums, with absolutely no breeze. Nada. No guy that is currently in my life really makes me excited. Now there are those who are quite entertaining, but after I stop laughing I do need substance. Everyone is just so dull, so self absorbed, so not memorable, so stiff, so pushy, so needy, so sensitive, so intent on taking up all my spare time. I am not saying that I too don’t have shortcomings, but I’ve recently had a bumper crop of men that make me want to sit out a few quarters just to recoup the time. That’s not fair, they aren’t dull there is just no chemistry. If there was chemistry I could overlook the shortcomings. There have been moments of brilliance that glitter like gold, but when I reach out to grasp the little nugget it turns out to be brass.

I got a phone call yesterday from a guy who is by far one of my favorite men (if I were to have one), very charming and witty. We have known each other for a little over a year. We’re just cool. Do you remember your best friend from summer day camp? That person who you immediately click with, share your lunch with, share school secrets with, giggle uncontrollably with, sit on the field trip bus with, that one person you make fast friends with and you look for as soon as you arrive every morning. This is how I would describe us during the initial months, two peas in a pod. It was fun, but then we both became busy and I can’t say what happened. It’s just like when summer camp ends and despite promises to call and write your new bff somehow life gets in the way and years pass and you wonder what they are up to. When he called I smiled and picked up my cell. We decided to go to lunch. He said 2 and I said 1. So we settled on 1:30. I thought ah a breeze.

I arrived at 1:30 on the dot. I waited for about 15 mins than I sat down and ordered drinks and an appetizer. I called him, but my call went straight to voicemail so I texted. He immediately replied that he was in the city and on his way. He walked in at 2 on the dot. Exactly right on HIS time. I was irritated, but I thought be nice don’t be ugly. At least he will be stimulating and I’ll enjoy his company. The hostess brought him over to the table. He was all puppy dog eyes and I’m so sorry, I apologize for keeping you waiting. This melted any frigidness I had planned. He picked up the menu and asked what I wanted to order. Before I could even tell him that I had ordered the waiter came over with drinks and the appetizer. He picked up his drink and took a sip “Oh honey you remembered! You’re a real keeper. Why did we break up again?” I just smiled and then told him to figure out what he wanted because I was hungry and my stomach was churning. After we ordered the main entrees we settled into our booth and caught up. It had actually only been about two months since we last saw each other or talked, but he had a lot to fill me in on. He spent most of the time talking, but it was cool.

Then he stopped mid sentence, “I’m just going on and on about myself how are you?”

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind hearing about your life because it makes me wish for psychotic co-workers and a running with scissors family.” I then took a sip of my drink.

“I don’t know if you are being serious and genuinely interested or if I should be offended.”

“Oh don’t be. If my eyes glazed over then you should be offended.”

“So how are you? What have you been up to since I last saw you? Did you paint that wall? I remember you couldn’t decide on a color.”

I started laughing because he remembered my insane project to paint my dining room wall the right shade of sun-burnt, golden orange. “YES!!! I found the purrrfect shade and it turned out exactly how I saw it in my head. Trust there was a method to my madness.”

“I just remember paint chips all over the wall.”

“And all that was necessary to figure out the right shade.”

He reached across the table and picked up my hand. “What happened to us?”

“Huh?”

“Why did we break up?”

“Uhm we were never together?” I was quite puzzled. I was confused and I know it was written all over my face.

“You were my woman and you know it.”

“I would hardly categorize myself as your woman.”

“Ursala, are you serious? I spent every weekend together with you for about 5 weeks AND in a row.”

“You never said you wanted us to be together. And correction we spent a day, one day, during the weekend together not the whole weekend. And if I remember correctly at one point you went on vacation with your ex.”

“I explained that I was going to Jamaica to celebrate a friend’s birthday and that my ex was going to be there. I was completely honest with you as to what happened while I was gone. I even called you from Jamaica.”

“I also remember that you dropped the ball more than a few times with plans. You tell me you want to see me. We make plans and you cancel hours after we were supposed to get together.”

“That happened twice.”

“Twice is more than once. It was cool, it was clear that you were dating other people. It wasn’t an issue I wasn’t trying to monopolize your time.”

“I wasn’t really dating anyone else. I had a few dates, but you were my main focus. You had to know that.”

At this point. I started to think back over us. I did like him a lot, but I checked my expectations because I never got the feeling that he wanted something serious or that he wanted to be with me. I go with my gut. Gut told me just enjoy it while it lasted. So I did. I didn’t invest any deep emotional feelings into it. I really just thought of him as a friend that I occasionally cuddled with. I mean I genuinely enjoyed his company. He also helped to keep me laughing with emails through out the day. Silly stuff nothing more than one or two sentences, but it kept the boredom from setting in on many a day. I started second guessing myself. Did I miss something? Did he want to be with me? Did I get him all wrong? “I’m sorry, I really thought we were just kicking it.” I looked down at the table when I said this because I really wondered if I had read the situation upside down. I don’t ever read between lines or delve too deeply into words that aren’t followed by actions. Men tell you what they want and then do it. I thought he was a great guy when I met him and I did envision us together, but after about three weeks I got the distinct impression that he just thought I was funny and amusing. I wasn’t upset about that, I  just enjoyed the moment.

“I don’t have time to just kick it. And I definitely don’t kick it with women.”

“Well you did with me.”

“No you don’t understand. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you? You never gave me any signs that you wanted to be with me so eventually I just fell back.”

“So that’s why I haven’t heard from you?”

“I missed you. I don’t miss anyone and I really missed you. So I wanted to see you, talk to you. See where your head is at now. Find out if you wanted a man now. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Want a man?”

“What? I don’t really know how to answer that question. I guess it depends on the man.”

“I think that is the problem. You lack direction and so you don’t really know what you want.”

“Are you analyzing me now.”

“You date men and you don’t know what you want from them…you are just wasting your time and theirs.”

I will stop right there because I had an epiphany at the table. He was right. Well not completely right, but close enough for me to get uncomfortable. I think he is partially right because sitting there I realized that I don’t want to be in a relationship. I say that I want a man. I wrote out a list of things that I wanted in a man, but when it comes down to it my actions show that I don’t want a man. Even with him if I thought we could be together why didn’t I tell him why was I waiting on him? And when he did things I didn’t like why didn’t I call him out on it instead of blowing it off like it wasn’t a big deal? People need positive verbal feedback and if I receive it I should reciprocate instead of being vague. Plus men do things many times to get a reaction. I express no real emotions and I don’t react. I am closed. I am guarded. I am cold. I don’t show much affection. I purposefully send mix signals. I don’t share. I don’t give anyone a chance to really get to know me, the real me. It’s not that I am afraid to show the real me. I just don’t feel comfortable opening up and investing myself because I am afraid in the long run it’s not going to work out. I thought one day I would meet someone we would hit it off and I would be happy. This has happened more than once, but after the initial excitement I become concerned about the long term maintenance of the relationship. It frightens me and I feel inadequately prepared. I never thought that I had baggage, but I believe that I do. It’s just that I know how much a relationship requires for it to work and sometimes I am not sure I have that much to give of myself everyday. I don’t know what this means, but I do know that I am in the dating duldroms because of me. Although I want a breeze I am not sure that my sails are ready.

You gotta draw the line somewhere…

I’m prissy, I’m delicate and I don’t like to get my hands dirty unless I’m making cupcakes. I’m not the quintessential girl next door who can hang with the boys, but I do have some qualities that I’ve been told make me endearing. I love to eat and don’t hide it when I’m out on a date. I love action movies. I like big explosions, unbelievable fight sequences and macho men. I like sweaty men. I like hairy men. I like going to home depot, just love the way that place smells. I don’t scream or flinch at the site of bugs or blood, kill em or plug it. I’m not into sports, but will watch (and be quiet or call you afterwards) because I understand it’s like reality tv for guys. I really thought I was open minded. I thought I was progressive. Until today. Today I realized to hell with trying to be accommodating, dudes are straight trippin with this sports stuff and they need to be called out on it. Well one dude in particular.

I was invited to watch Extreme Fighting with a guy that I’ve gone out with a few times. Saying that I was invited implies that I showed up on my own, but that’s not accurate. We had planned on dinner and a movie, but the movie was sold out. We were trying to decide our next move when his face lit up and he announced that he knew exactly where we could go. A friend of his was having a fight party. I agreed to go despite not being able to think of a single boxing match that was coming on that evening. I thought well maybe he knows something I don’t know. Plus I actually smiled to myself because I had mentioned very briefly during our dinner conversation that I watched the Manny Pacquiao documentary on HBO. Yes! He was listening. So I believe this prompted his eureka moment of “I’ll take this lady to the fight party, yeah that’s just what I’ll do.”

When we arrived, the fight had already started. The host offered us food and drinks, but since I had just eaten I asked for a glass of wine. I could hear the fight, but I couldn’t see the screen. It was very crowded and people were standing all around, but they were all very enthusiastic. Yelling and carrying on like this was a title fight in the Tyson era (those were the days). My friend asked if I wanted to sit down and of course I said yes, so he took my hand and led me up some stairs to a little nook overlooking the den. Perfect. I could people watch and watch the fight.

We sat down, looked at artwork on the walls of the little nook (which made me want to start really paying attention to art and collecting) and then the host came up to make fun of us for separating ourselves from the crowd. We giggled, chit chatted the host then he called everyone’s attention down below to our secret hide-away. After being put on the spot I said that I was here to watch the fight and I was being distracted so “Shoooooooo!”

When I actually looked at the tv I was confused. The dudes on the screen were rolling around on the ground and punching one another. I sat my glass of wine down and peered at the screen. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The guys were in a drag out, “organized”, street fight. The only thing that separated them from say a street brawl were their little multi-logo emblazoned shorts, a ref and a cage. WTH?!? A CAGE? A CAGE! Actually a metal fence, to contain all the scrapping that was going on. What was worse is that when they weren’t rolling around on the ground entangled in one another’s crotch and legs, they were punching the stuffing out of one another bare fisted. I’ve never been in a fight, but I’ve seen enough fights to know that bare fisted punching is brutal. Plus they were both bloody, lumpy and in need of a trainer to treat their wounds and squirt some water in their mouths.

After about two minutes I couldn’t watch it anymore. I walked to the other side of the nook and looked at the art. First, I thought why would he bring me here does he think this is what I find entertaining? Second, what made him think that I would enjoy watching men savagely beat up one another? Third, was I the only one in the house completely repulsed by this? It reminded me of mortal combat they just didn’t pull a heart out of a rib cage while I was watching, but I bet they would if they could.  As I thought through what I might have said besides the Pac-Man doc, I started to consider that he might actually really be into this Extreme Combat Fighting.

About a minute passed before he came over to me, but he arrived at the exact moment that I was becoming alarmed about the possibility that he might really be into this. The alarm of my realization must have shown on my face because he immediately asked if I was okay. I started shaking my head no. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I wasn’t going to last too long. Watching those two minutes had actually made me sick to my stomach. He asked if I needed to sit down, I must have been ashen faced too. I nodded yes. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions that he was Extreme Fighting’s biggest fan, so I told myself he just wanted to see his boys and it was close.

I didn’t know what to say to him so we just sat there for a few minutes listening to the cheers and the sound of flesh being pummeled to a pulp. Then there was a collective “Ooooh” from the crowd downstairs and he jumped up to go see. I thought oh he likes this. So I said “Do you like this extreme fighting?”

“Yes, it’s like fight club.”

“Do you watch it often?”

“Yeah, I’ve even been to a couple of matches.”

Yikes wrong answers. I was trying to think what excuse I was going to come up with for having to leave. I know guys like sports and sports are a way to release the bottled up aggression that many of them carry around. However, I have to draw the line at modern day gladiators who look like they are literally trying to maim and kill each other. I also draw the line on men who are into this sport. Dude should have kept this underwraps like whatever porn he had at the crib. I can’t with a clear conscious watch one man try to kill another man and cheer. I don’t find it entertaining at all. I can’t even humor someone and watch a little bit. Even if he was the perfect guy for me the fact that he enjoyed this took him out the running. I know guys like guts and gore, but geeze this was on a level that I was not able to tolerate. I believe boxing and football are about as extreme as I can go. So I texted a friend and ten minutes later I told him that I had to go. I was tired and repulsed by the extreme fighting. Good Night and Good Bye. No further explanation.

Wag the Dog or Deal Breaker #9

A guy that I have been seeing asked me to meet him at his house so we could drive to a dinner party together. He also said he had a surprise for me. I’m nosey and of course I like surprises so I’m all sure I’ll come over. I also think he was tired of me meeting him places. I am not big on people knowing where I rest my head at night until I am sure that I’m interested and they are mentally stable.

When I arrived I parked my car on the street and then headed up the walkway to ring the doorbell. I heard dogs before I even touched the doorbell. I cringed. I don’t have any pets. I can’t keep plants alive. I decided that I should call and tell him I was in the driveway. I pulled out my cell phone, but before I could dial he popped up in the windows beside the door with a great big smile on his face.

As he opened the door he greeted me with, “Glad you made it alright. Come in, Come in. You look nice. How are you?”

“I thought I would never get here. Thank you. I’m fine.”

I reached out to give him a hug, but the dogs rushed me and I froze. The dogs weren’t small. They were big large-pawed animals. They came forward in a tumble of legs, wagging tails, dangling tongues and cold noses sniffing all over me. Then one jumped up on me. “No, Ohhh Wait, Oohhh my, Nooooo.” 

I cringed, turned my head and closed my eyes, as if that would make them magically disappear. He then did what all dog owners do assured me that the dogs were friendly and just wanted to play. Then he told them to sit. I just want it to be known that I have never seen a dog actually immediately sit when its’ owner has instructed it to do so. They will after a few sits, but never immediately. He grabbed the one that jumped on me by the collar and said, “Chief likes you.”

“Oh, lucky me,” I said dryly.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable.” He wasn’t completely dressed. He was missing a shirt. Boys think they are so slick showing off the goods this way. He led me into a living room and asked if I wanted anything to drink. I declined then he left to finish getting ready.

The dogs stayed with me. I wondered why he didn’t put them away before I got there. People who have dogs LOVE those little buggers. I know that owners develop a close bond and relationship with the pet and it becomes like a family member or fur kid. I do not understand this bond because I have no pets. I don’t think the way I greeted the dogs indicated that I liked them, so he should have taken them with him.

The dogs eyed me and walked around the couch. Then one laid down millimeters from my feet between me and the coffee table. I scrunched my feet back closer to the couch. Chief, the dog that jumped on me, came and sat down with his head inches from my knee. He proceeded to pant with his big tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Oh and his breath was oh so doggy fresh with a tinge of a beefy aroma. I turned my head and held my nose. I was caged in by the dogs and the l-shape of the couch. Then I started thinking maybe he left them to guard me.

He came back into the room and laughed. “I see you are making friends with my dogs. They want you to play with them.” I looked at him like he asked me to decipher the hieroglyphics on an Egyptian pyramid, confused. I was thinking to myself I am not a dog sitter and what makes you think I want to play with your dogs.

He then clapped his hands and picked up a blue twisted ball of fabric and threw it over the couch. Chief immediately went to fetch it. The other dog laying in front of me just looked up and thumped his tail. Chief brought the toy back to him, then nuzzled and licked his hands. He threw the toy down the hallway. This happened about five or six times. Then Chief brought the toy to me and dropped it in my lap. It was soggy and wet. Yuck. Gross. I stood up and let it drop off my lap onto the floor.

“Oh be a good sport and throw it. You must be special. Chief doesn’t just play with everybody.”

“I never met a dog who didn’t like to play with strangers so I don’t feel special.” I was not about to pick it up and throw it. I couldn’t touch that disgusting toy even for that pretty nice boy, even if our happiness together depended on it.

He walked over to the dog, petted him and said, “Tell Ursala you like her and just want to play.” The dog barked and he turned to me “See I told you.” Then he came towards me with his arms out like he was trying to give me a hug. I backed up and tripped/stepped on the dog on the floor causing me to fall back on the couch.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve just been playing with the dog, don’t you think you should wash your hands.”

He looked down at his hands and continued moving towards me. “I don’t have the cooties.”

“Uhh Uhn, go wash your hands.”

He looked at me a little surprised then backed up. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, your dog’s saliva is all over your hands and you think you are going to hug me? No sir!”

“Okay okay okay.” He started walking towards the kitchen so I got up to follow him.

Then he said, “I hope you can shuffle cards, after dinner we will probably play spades. Do you know how to play?”

“Is that the game you with the little white cards with numbers and shapes on them?”

At first he looked concerned then he said, “You think you are funny don’t you?”

I laughed. “I can play a little, but don’t get mad at me if I don’t remember the cards that have been played.”

“See that sounds like you don’t even try to play right, you better pay attention.”

“I don’t think we have known each other long enough to be spades partners. I know married couples that aren’t on speaking terms when they leave parties. You sure you want to set us up for that?”

“It’s just a friendly game.”

“Well don’t embarrass me.”

“Please how about you don’t embarrass me.”

He then turned on the faucet and put his hands under the stream and rubbed them together three or four times. Then turned the water off.

“Uhmm soap please.” I went over to the sink, picked up the dishwashing liquid and squeezed some into his hands.

“Geeze, You’re a little germaphobic eh?”

I had no response for him.

Little nerves in my skin crawled and a little shiver went up my arms to my shoulders. Alarms went off in my head. I couldn’t help but think that he played with those dogs and those saliva soaked toys, then he touched things. Everything. The remote, the couch, the fridge door, his wallet, his keys, and his steering wheel. Probably even got in his car and came to see me and touched my back, my arm, my hair and my face. Ewwwww!  The more I thought about it the more it repulsed me. I started backing away from him and the sink. Then I wondered if he let those dogs lick his face and mouth. I imagined a layer of doggy goo glazed every inch of that space. The thought of touching him or anything in his home made me uncomfortable. I wanted to run right out of his house, but was frightened by the prospects of having to touch the front door.

Jaw Breakers or the unlikely Deal Breaker…

Women often talk about what type of man they can’t deal with like dead beat dads, baby mama drama, moochers, average joe’s who possess no real ambition, men who can’t hold a stimulating conversation, and generally the most widely accepted deal breaker, the man that lives with his Mother. That has to be the scariest of them all especially if he a mama’s boy or if he is just not tending to his business. What other deal breakers are scarier? Hmmm…

 

I stumbled across a rare gem of a guy completely by accident. He is interesting and nice, and while that’s easy he has also managed to be witty, super cool but a little dorky, impart a lot of random but useful advice, and he is into the same kind of music that I am which is wild because I have a very eclectic musical taste. I’m admittedly a little to the left…it’s just how I roll, but we are so on the same frequency.  When I realized that he was right along side me leaning to the left it made me grin really, really hard. When he invited me to his house I was excited like a little kid on their way to six flags. I was very curious about his house and how he lived. I had in my head what his house probably looked like, but it’s much better to be able to see the actual pile of bricks.

 

His place was actually quite different from what I imagined. It was very nice, neat and well appointed, but I was expecting it to be more comfy and inviting with a slightly artistic flair. Not overly coordinated décor, bric-a-brac and scenes from a JCPenney catalog (not to say that there is anything wrong with penney’s I love that place). He had a fireplace, but he never burned it so it dashed my dreams of playing scrabble in front of a warm crackling hearth.

 

He and I are both movie buffs so he had planned for us to watch movies. That would have been perfect any other time, but I wanted to watch the Grammys. He did make fun of me for being into the pop culture mainstream, but I can’t help myself I love award shows.  He made fun of everything especially the Jonas brother’s performance with Stevie Wonder and MIA’s polka dot rompered-out performance with the rap pack. You gotta love a woman who wants to get her swagger on while literally about to pop and give birth. He offered me some alcohol, which I didn’t turn down, so I was feeling all warm and fuzzy. It was in this slightly tipsy state, while enjoying the musical performances and his Grammy commentary that I hear the creak of a door opening and the shuffling of feet. I gasp, jump closer to him on the couch and look in the direction of the noise.“What was that?” I whisper while clutching my chest. As far as I was concerned there was an intruder in the house on their way up the stairs to get me.

 

He looked back nonchalantly, “Oh that’s my Mom.”

 

The shuffles were coming up the stairs and I looked back to see the top of a head ascend the stairs. When she got to the top she said “Hello.”

 

I half said as a statement and a question “Hello.?” I looked down at him and back at his mother’s retreating back. “You live with your mother?”

 

He chuckled. “No. My Mother lives with me.” My jaw dropped a bit. Well that explained the décor, but he said his mother lived with him like this was standard. As if everyone’s mother was just chilling at the crib.

 

“You look puzzled.” He said and rubbed my leg.

 

I looked over at him, but I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t think of anything appropriate and I didn’t feel comfortable asking why his mother lived with him. So I smiled weakly and replied “She just scared me that’s all.”

 

I turned back to look at the television and to re-evaluate this man. I’m not sure what would have been the proper response to his statement. That’s his mama and his business, but I couldn’t help but feel weird and unsettled.

 

I have never encountered this scenario, shoot I’ve never encountered a man living WITH his mother either. And No, technically he doesn’t live with his mother, but I don’t think I can deal with a mother. I don’t feel comfortable that at any given moment his mother might pop up, which might be good because it would definitely make me behave. It’s like we are teenagers and have a chaperone. Although that heightened the fun of fooling around when I was seventeen it doesn’t get me going now. I know I won’t feel free to express myself. I wouldn’t want to be loud or make too much noise, she might be trying to sleep. I don’t curse much, but I definitely don’t want to say anything off color around (or in earshot of) an elder since I don’t think it’s respectful. It’s just too much to manage with a parent around, an aunt or an uncle maybe, but not a Mama. I don’t want to feel inhibited, it’s too much pressure.

 

Just like I can’t deal with a man who lives with his mama, I can’t deal with a man whose mother lives with him. 

 

The Digits by request…

I have zero problems meeting people but I like being introduced to people. This way you have some background information on them and they aren’t total strangers. Plus people generally fix you up with people you wouldn’t come across on your own or probably wouldn’t even give the time of day to under normal circumstances. Since I haven’t successfully found a guy, I am not sure that I am the best judge of character. Recently I have been meeting some real pieces of work. So I am very open to the suggestions of others. When socializing by referral, I think its best to meet people in a group setting that way there is no pressure. If they like what they see and hear both parties can decide to exchange information. This is fair for both parties and if it’s a complete bust no one’s feelings are hurt or bruised.

 

This was the set up a year and a half ago. I went with a friend to an event and briefly met a guy she wanted to introduce me to. What’s funny is that I realized I had met him before. We talked for less than maybe three minutes and then we had to get to our seats. My friend asked if I was interested and minded if he called. I like meeting new people…actually I don’t like the process but I do like new ideas that new people bring. Physically he was so my type and that’s the basis of initial interest so I gave my friend the thumbs up. We had two conversations. First conversation went well. Second conversation was a waste of my time.

 

My thing is that I like guys who are unavailable, either by circumstance or distance. It’s what I attract, what I specialize in. I can meet ten guys in one evening. Nine out of ten of them will be emotionally available and geographically desireable, but I will inevitably pick the one who just got out of a five year relationship and lives in Fiji. Our first conversation was fun and flirty, but no real substance. Second conversation we started talking about important things such as occupation and lifestyle. This conversation established that he lived in a nother city, of course, I almost expected it. Our conversation was speeding along at a steady pace until he metioned that he had kids and multiple baby mamas. WTH? I was in a definite hell no to kids phase, so I distinctly remember shutting down and thinking how I could end the conversation as quickly as possible. Then he did something really strange. He said he was just kidding about the kids and baby mamas. He just wanted to see how I was going to react. WTH! Excuse me? I was even more turned off. Who lies about children? Plus I hate when people purposefully do things to get a reaction. I am not your average lady, so nine out of ten times you will not get the reaction you expected. I will most likely come out of left field on you. Trust me on this. Since I didn’t get his strange sense of humor that was the last conversation we had.

 

We never spoke again until I rolled into a bar to watch a football game with a group of friends. We ended up seated at the same table . We were soon engaged in a lively conversation about why I hadn’t accepted him as a friend on facebook. My explanation we had no friends in common and I didn’t recognize his name or picture. We all had a rolling good time and promised to get together again real soon.

 

I am on my way home and I get a text from my girl. Basically he wants to know if he can get my number.

 

Now I’m thinking wait do I give him my number. That evening he seemed cool but I kept thinking about our previous conversation with the kid nonsense. I thought maybe he has matured, but then I was like wait hold up he has my number….or at least he should. In this age of cell phones, numbers aren’t generally deleted unless you lose a cell. So did he delete me? And if he deleted me should I even give him my number again? However, what most intrigued me was why he didn’t just ask for my number before I left. Maybe the facebook thing caused confusion, but still why didn’t he just ask for my number HIMSELF? Hmmmm

 

So now I don’t know whether I should give him my number. Decisions….decisions…

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