Tiny Man with a big...."heart!"

The below real life date is a contribution by my friend Jackie! I am not sure, but I am pretty positive that this guy sounds like he is pretty classy......if by classy you mean a jerkoffasauresrex, then yes! I will expand later on what a jerkoffasauresrex is exactly.

So here I am a young girl all of 20 years old, living in my very first apartment on Hollywood Blvd, working for a very prominent music production company. I was hob nobbing with some of the biggest names in music and hoping that I could win myself a single, good looking music producer with my charm and good looks. One of my co-workers who was coincidentally my roommate decided to play matchmaker and set me up with a guy who she assured me was my type. My type as in, “you have tattoos and so does he,” apparently. Completely assured by her description of him, tattoos, nice car, music producer, never married, totally sweet, I agree to meet him. The next day he calls me and says, “One of the bands I am working on is playing at the club on Sunset, do you want to meet me there?” Now, up until this point my dating experience was restricted to high school long term boyfriends so needless to say I had no experience in the dating world. I didn’t know that meeting a guy at a club while a rock band was playing would not be conducive to actually talking and getting to know this person. But, of course I agree. I pulled up to the club 5 minutes early and walked up to the door where a silver back gorilla was guarding the doorway, arms crossed, “You on the list?” Huh? What list? “That’s a no, cover is $25” I'm sorry what?? Now I guess I should mention I'm in my cutest date outfit which included a skirt and sky high heels and its fall in Los Angeles, which means its about 50 degrees outside. I have no money to pay this guy and I am freezing. So I call my blind date who assures me he is 2 minutes away. 30 embarrassingly long minutes later he rolls up in his Chrystler PT CRUISER!!! That’s strike 2 buddy! First you’re a half hour late, second that is NOT a nice car! Then he steps out of the car. Now, I'm not sure if you have seen a PT Cruiser up close but they aren’t tall cars, and when he gets out his head barely comes up past the top of it! He is TINY. Yes, he has tattoos, and I'm not sure if he is nice yet but he is MINIATURE compared to me in my sky high heels. As he got closer I could see his face in the light. Bulging eyes, crooked and yellowing teeth and slicked back hair to cover the bald spot. He looked to be about 45 even though I was assured he was 28! Awesome, an ugly 45 yr old who drives a purple PT Cruiser. YES PURPLE!!!

Turns out, he was on the list and we are allowed behind that ever so mysterious velvet rope into the dankest club I have ever been in in my entire life. There is a band on the stage with a lead singer that is screaming into the microphone, groupies lining every inch of the floor and absolutely no seating accept at the bar which is currently packed with drunkards from end to end. So awesome. As we walk through the crowd he grabs my hand so I don’t get lost in the craziness. A sweet gesture but EXTREMELY embarrassing as people look over and see a mother being drug through the crowd by what looks like her 8 year old. At this point I know I am done with this guy. As we walk past the bar I notice he is going for a door with another burly and intimidating bouncer in front of it. Sweet! At least I get some VIP room out of this whole circus. We sit down and I say to myself, “Be nice, have a drink, then claim sleepiness.” So we order our drinks and start chatting. As we are talking I realize that he is not, at all, looking into my eyes. He is looking straight into my chest. Being straight forward I point out the location of my eyes to which he replies,” I'm sorry but you have the sweetest rack I have seen in a while and I'm getting a huge boner.” which he points out by tracing the shape of it on his leg. I swear to you it looked like he had stuffed eight gym socks in there! Sliding away from him and shouting “Oh My God!" he then proceeds to tell me how "real" what he just showed me was. STRIKES 3, 4, 5 and 6!!! I immediately ran as fast as I could out of that club. One, I don’t care how “real" it is and two, I have already been eye raped by you enough for one night, tiny little man!

Needless to say, I cried myself to sleep that night.

Thanks Jackie for your story! I am sad that you had to experience this yet so very happy that you did so we could hear about it!

With Love,

Sheri

Good Luck Chuck

Have you honestly ever known a woman to have met the man of her dreams or the possibility of finding the man of her dreams at a bar/club thingy? I can honestly say that I haven't. Now that's not to say that it isn't a possibility and I am sure there a number of justifiable cases out there that will no doubt prove me wrong in that assumption, HOWEVER, I am going off of my own stats here and will admit that every man that I have met at a club/bar thingy has been a real D-Bag. I honestly don't know why I even remotely think that I will find a man of the quality in which I desire there. Especially when its 1245 in the morning and all the ladies in attendance are usually a little more than tipsy, barely dressed and are hovering on a man whom they are hoping is the man of their dreams. Face it....we all think it. We all deep down hope that tonight could potentially be the night that we find the "one". Regardless of where we are or are going. Because lets face it, this is the best place and scene to meet a man, right?

As I have this momentary lapse of judgement and agree to meet a friend at one of these bar/club thingys, I walk into it fully knowing that I am just here to have fun, dance a little, have a drink or 2 and that's it! (Secretly on the inside though, I am desperately hoping that the "one" will be there). So, as we are chatting as girls do in the corner of the place scoping it out for any potential prospects and making ourselves be fully open to anyone that could possibly be the "one", my friend scopes out a prospect for me. "Oh, there you go Sheri, he's just your type!" I look over and at first glance am thinking, nope, I don't think so. Before I can spit the words out of my mouth to back my claim that he isn't such my type. She is doing the come hither finger motion. He looks at her and points at his chest and mouths "Me?" She shakes her head. As he strolls up, she says, "Hi, this is my friend Sheri." And then she proceeds to walk away. Son of a biscuit! Now I am engrossed in a conversation with this guy that is about 6 inches shorter than me, has slicked back hair with enough gel in it to have sustained the Jersey kids for a complete season and is dressed like a gang member from my high school. Dickie shorts that look like pants because they go down to his ankle, white T-shirt and good 'ol Chuck Taylors .

Wow! Converse? Interesting choice of clothing I must say for a bar/club thingy. As the conversation continues, it is quite evident that he is absurdly drunk. Why wouldn't he be really? But insanely enough he was speaking intelligently and telling me all the great things about himself. The usual deal. He is in the military, he is in charge of people, essentially he was showing off his portfolio. The best of the best. Now I never put myself out there in these sort of environments because one can never be too careful, so I continued to listen to his stories. When the story ended, I began to ask random questions about his "portfolio". See the thing is, I love it when men assume that I have no idea what they are talking about. That I have no clue what goes on in their little world. Well, when I started asking questions, he was taken back a little bit because I had just beat him at his own game. (By the way, what's with the games anyway, are we still in 8th grade?) Game, set, match buddy. I win. I have seen and dealt with too many of your type to not have figured it out.

I thought that this was going to be the end of "Chuck". But turns out, the game wasn't quite over. Instead of me winning the game making it quite obvious that I was in no way interested and even telling him so, I guess he thought I still was. Chuck and his converse walked right up to me and plainly asked "So, are you taking me home tonight?" Hmmm....how can I put this tactfully? Screw it, there is no tactful way for this guy. No Chuck, I will not be taking you home tonight, nor will I be answering your calls or texts (I am still to this day not sure why I even gave this D-Bag my number), but what I will be doing is punching you in the face if you don't take a step back from me at this very moment. I have been more than patient with you and have told you on more than one occasion that I am not interested. But that doesn't seem to work for you. Chuck started pleading with me, yes pleading! Never has this happened before. EVER!

2AM and the place is shutting down. Time for me to head home and chalk this one up on my too good to have happened list. I couldn't believe it really. Chuck did text me all the way up until 430 AM. Then again the following couple of days. Chuck did finally understand that I have a little more class than that. While I appreciate his bluntness and forwardness which is hard to find these days, he just went about it the wrong way.

I do wish Chuck the best and who knows, maybe he will find the woman of his dreams in a bar/club thingy. But I do hope that he at least puts more grown up shoes on.

With love,

Sheri

My "wife"....

Two little words that no woman should hear on a date. Nope. No way. Hell to the no. I am not sure how or why, but I seem to get that quite a bit. It makes me wonder if I have a built in still married but want to date me magnet that I am not aware of on my forehead. I mean seriously...why would a man even remotely think that me let alone most women and I say most because I have known a few that are not opposed to it would even like that idea.

It usually starts with a conversation about something that has happened in the past, like a funny story or something of what not to do. Cool, right? You would think. At this point I am most likely at a dinner somewhere with this man, drinking or chomping on my salad, then all of a sudden as we are getting through the basic info like where we are from, what we do, how long we've been here, etc., a sentence starts with well my "wife". I'm sorry, did you just say your wife? Yes, we are still "technically" married right now but we are going through a divorce. I am totally telling you the truth when I say that he did air quotes when he said "technically". Son of a biscuit!! Seriously!? What does that mean technically speaking? Well, the papers are still being processed. So, once that's done then we have to wait a full month and then its final. May I ask...how long has this process been going on? Oh, about 6 months now. RED FLAG ALERT!!!!

Done and done! At that point, it was a lost cause. 6 months? Sounds to me like you are stalling it with the hopes that maybe a reconciliation is on the horizon. Granted, I understand the legal process and all the bull that one must go through to get a damn signature on that paper....I am a divorcee, remember? At that point, I just shut down, there was no need to go forward, no need to think about the possibility of a next date, no need to save the number in my cell, nothing. I will just finish this dinner and beat feet out of there with the hopes that he sees my smoke coming from my stilettos. As this particular date ends, I had to let him know that regardless of the situation, the idea of him still being "technically" married is so disrespectful to his soon to be "EX" wife that I can in no way go further in any type of relationship with him. Geeze....he did say that he understood and he respects my opinion. The end, right? Of course not! You didn't think it was that easy. I soon start to get text messages from him explaining and asking questions like if he wasn't still married, would he have a chance, etc. At that point, I could have either ignored him or for his sake told him that because he came into this situation still married regardless of the circumstance has set a tone that will not be able to overcome. I did in my nicest way possible share with him that because it was right thing to do. No other woman should have to be put into an awkward situation like that....it made me feel like the other woman. Gross! And after all, I was the other woman in my marriage for a number of years, so the idea of being that again was in no way a cool one. I would have much rather had a bikini wax from a woman named Helga who had a mustache.

My wife date 2! So this one was introduced to me by some close friends. He was by all means a pretty nice guy. I was really excited about this one...not that I am not excited about ALL of them, but you know what I mean. Coincidentally, I found out about his wife at the same restaurant and the SAME TABLE!! Talk about me not ever going to that restaurant again. I have banned it from any dates. So, again, same scene with the drink and salad...but this guy was at least up front and honest from the get go. He says to me, so I need to tell you something up front so you know because I don't want to be dishonest. Shit! In a matter of seconds, I had various thoughts running through my head of what it could be. A fugitive from justice, witness protection program, older than you told me, what??? What could it be?! I put my fork down as I needed to prepare myself for the truth.

Well, I am still married. And I wanted you to know up front. Okay.....so why again are you on a date with me then if you are still married? She has a lot of health problems and needs to be on my insurance so that's why. So, you are actually still supporting her in some way shape or form then? I guess you can look at that way. Ummmm....there is no guessing of that. You are dude! RED FLAG ALERT!!! In the most nicest and sweetest way possible and knowing who I am, I am the nicest and sweetest person around (which gets me in trouble I might add), I very kindly explained to him that regardless of why you still need to stay married, that I don't appreciate that concept of dating and still being married. I have too much respect for myself and any other woman who has no idea that her still married husband is on a date with me.

I raise my white flag...I am waving said flag! I am at a loss here. What does a woman have to do to meet a genuine honest man? I don't want a perfect one by any means. Those imperfections are perfect for me. I just want to meet one that isn't still "technically" married. Maybe that's a big request these days. Or maybe that's what we have become....a still married but looking society.

With love from a girl who's signature on that divorce paper is as dry as the Mojave Desert,

Sheri