One Headlight

First and foremost, let me preface this story with a disclaimer that I am in no way a shallow, snotty or egotistical person in ANY way. Nor am I a money grubbing woman looking for a sugar daddy (although how awesome would THAT be?!) Seriously, who wouldn't want a man throwing cash at you for the sole purpose of being their mate even if for a short time? You know as well as I do that we always joke about it and I have to wonder what I would do if propositioned as such....hmmmm. Now that I have gotten the disclaimer out of the way, onto the real reason it is titled "One Headlight".

As with most of the men that I date whether one date or multiple dates, I met this one on-line while doing a little man shopping one Sunday afternoon. Lately, that's all I had been doing was shopping for men, but at least it was much less expensive than a new pair of shoes or a great pair of jeans that make your ass look AMAZING! But I digress....lets call him "Neon". Now Neon and I did the usual chatting back and forth for a while and talked on the phone a few times before we agreed to meet for dinner. Meeting at a local restaurant where we both agreed was a mutual and safe meeting place (after all you can never be too careful or overly cautious), I was the last to arrive and that's exactly how I wanted it. Truth be told, the reason for that is in the event I walk in there and find myself in a pickle that I do not see ending positively, I have the advantage of being able to escape rather quickly. Not that I have had to do that, but I think its a must to plan for such an occurrence. Surprisingly though I was pleasantly surprised to have had really enjoyed myself, the company and conversation. He was my "type" whatever that "type" was at the moment. Once we parted ways, a second date was definitely in order. Good sign and no red flags!

Second date started with me having to make the arrangements for the time and location, I wasn't too thrilled about that, but whatever. At least take the time to put a little effort into it. Oh and I drove....even better. But prior to that whole me driving thing, he had to first get to my apartment and go from there. First of all, he was 2 hours late....2 HOURS LATE! Seriously? Yes....2 whole hours, 160 minutes, 7200 seconds late. It was supposed to start at 6, but 6 turned into 8. As I was talking to him on the phone and giving him the directions and "guiding" him into my apartment complex, we were talking back and forth about the area and he said "I think I am close to your place, I just passed the mailbox". Hmmm.....all I see at that moment is a car with what looks like one headlight out and its making a squeaking noise. "Great! I don't see you yet." "I just pulled into a parking spot." Oh.....okay....you are the vehicle with the one headlight, squeaky noise and the dry rotted car bra....okay. (Jeni, the co-writer also had a story of a car bra, see it happens everywhere!) Oh wow...unusual I thought for someone of such stature in the job they said they had. But hey, who am I too judge, right? So, as you can see, I had no problems driving to dinner.

While driving and making conversation, I noticed that he was extremely nervous, I mean bad! He claimed that he hadn't done this in awhile. He was so nervous that it made me uncomfortable. Bad sign...red flag. It was in this same conversation that I started asking about his job, what he did, etc. It was then that he revealed to me that what he said he was on the "profile" didn't quite match what he in actuality was. There is no way that his occupation could have topped the one guy I met who said he was a part time astronaut and foot model. Yep..that happened. Now I don't care what your job is, other than a part time astronaut and foot model or if you even have a job, or that you are in between jobs. Whatever...the point of that matter was that he led me to believe something that he truly wasn't. Essentially, he was claiming to be a CEO and turns out he was really the copier. He tried to pad his portfolio with stuff that didn't matter. I swear, this whole leading me on thing to believe something is really starting to piss me off. Bad!

Since I was the one driving, I had the advantage to end the date early. I took "Neon" back to my place and we just simply parted ways. As I watched him drive away with one headlight and squeak every time he went over a speed bump with a dry rotted car bra flapping in the wind, I just shook my head and thought about my standards. Maybe my standards of honesty and being yourself and following through are way too high. Then again I am not sure how much more honest you can be with one headlight.

With love and high beams on,

Sheri

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

I don't think a Kleenex would help this one.....

Hi all!

Below is a guest blog from my friend Heidi who told me this story while we were in the airport drinking a cocktail before a flight to Reno this last July. Heidi is married to an awesome guy, has 3 amazing kids and hasn't dated for a couple dozen years at this point. She told me that she actually couldn't talk about this event for over 20 years because she was so horrified. She's a damn good storyteller and by the time she got to the punch line I almost fell off my bar stool laughing...I hope you enjoy as well!

Jen

I was the fragile age of 17. Senior in high school and full of excitement and anxiety. There was a boy a year or so older than me that I really was infatuated with. I had given the message, through friends, that I was interested in him and patiently waited for him to ask me out. When weeks went by and no invitation I figured he needed to know me better and I was going to take matters into my own hands.

My friends parents were going out of town and we figured if we threw a party he was sure to be there. Party plans were under way and the excitement was building. I knew this was my big night! I had figured out exactly what to wear, lied to my parents (sorry mom) and was ready to meet my new man. A day before the party day I woke up with the cold of a lifetime. I could not breathe and my head was full of gallons of mucus...

There was no way I was missing the party and spending the evening with the object of my affection. I rested up and got ready for the evening with great anticipation. We set up the house for the party and we were underway! An hour or so into the party he arrives with a few equally studly friends. Soon myself, a girlfriend, he and another boy were all standing in a circle talking. Here was my BIG chance for him to get to know me! We visited and giggled for a bit and then I felt a sneeze coming on......I put my hands together in the mannerly triangle and Kerchew! It was a major sneeze. As I looked up to meekly utter a shy "excuse me" I felt something wet on my face. I quickly realized I had an eighteen inch snot rocket hanging from my nose! What do you do with that? Seriously, I had no Kleenex in hand and what do you do next?

I exited the area and ran to the bathroom to get rid of my temporary appendage. Needless to say, I never went back into the party area and quickly made my way home.

I was so relieved to meet the love of my life a few years later and realize that that boy was not really worth it after all....

Truth in advertising

I am a realist.....I know I am far from perfect in a lot of ways. My curves have gotten more abundant as I've aged, I occasionally get acne, I snort when I laugh too hard, I have a tendency to interrupt people when I get excited about something and I snore after drinking too much wine. But I am honest in my faults and tend to look at them more like special quirks that make me who I am.

After a few interactions with guys I met online that didn't quite measure up I actually had my best male friend (and former boyfriend from a zillion years ago) look at my dating profile and asked him "Is this a good representation of who I am?". He knows me inside and out so when his reply was a solid yes...I felt pretty good because I do NOT want to be one of those people who show up for a "blind" date and have the other party reeling because what was delivered was not at all what was advertised. I get annoyed because not only is this dating crap hard, why would you making it harder by saying or showing that you are something that you are most obviously not. If I have to find a guy online, why not give him exactly what he is gonna get? So my profile pictures show me as is....full figured in a bathing suit (tasteful, mind you)....smiling and sticking my tongue out, hamming it up after too many beers....with makeup and without...fishing, camping and playing....you know??

So unlike the Forrest Gump "box o' chocolates" ism.....You actually do know what you are gonna get.

In one such situation I had corresponded with a very nice guy from a dating website and after finding out that we had a few things in common like a love of reading and for driving up the coast for the day just to get away we decided to meet for coffee at the local Coffee Bean.

I drove up and got out of my car and he was waiting for me on the patio, with a coffee and a copy of Dante's Inferno on the table. And low and behold he actually looked like his picture! Dark hair, blue eyes, about 5'10" with an average body and a solid handshake. He apologized for not ordering me a coffee as he didn't know what I wanted and offered to buy me my choice of beverage. Nice start!

We grabbed a tea for me and we sat down and started chatting and after a few minutes I started to notice some things that were missing as he spoke. They were small things, not super noticeable at first. But as he got more animated and comfortable it was more obvious that he was missing at least 3 teeth on the top of his grill. And as I tried to get a better look while not being obvious about it I realized the rest of his grill was in piss poor shape.

I know that not everyone is blessed with good tooth genes, nor can everyone afford to have pearly white veneers or implants. But for crying out loud....WHY in gods name would you think that this an OK to hide or breeze over when you are advertising yourself????

As soon as I reached the count of 4 teeth I decided to cut my losses and get the hell out of Dodge before he thought that there was any chance in hell that he was getting his mouth near my mouth. Because really??? No way!!! As he walked me to his car he pointed out rather excitedly that we both drove Honda's and wasn't that a coincidence?!?!? Being that his was a 1985 Honda CRV with a black bra (yes, a bra-I didn't know they still made those!) on the front I was pretty happy about the tooth thing because if it was up to me I would have rejected him for the car and bra alone and that might have made me a materialistic be-yotch instead of just someone who values good dental hygiene in her future mate.

Yours in blessedly good hygiene,
Jen

Business Card Man

Hmmm.....where do I begin with this fella? Well, picture it...a sunny day in San Antonio. I am as usual enjoying the splendor of the sun and getting my bronze on. You know, my golden highlights on my sun drenched skin? Yea well as I am laying by the pool and discussing with the girls all of the days events and blunders, what are we eating for dinner, what am I going to wear, the usual topics of conversation, in walks in a very handsome man whom I had already checked out in the lobby of the hotel in which we are staying. (Just because a girl travels doesn't mean she cant date on the road!) This man was beautiful to say the least. Well as "beautiful" as any man could get. You know the type right? Muscular, tan, tattoos all over, blond hair, blue eyes, tall, etc., etc. and blah, blah. blah. Now when I had first noticed muscle man, I was quite enamored with his looks to be quite honest with you. I saw him in the lobby and made "eye contact" with a smile that showed I was interested but not wanting to be too pushy either. Granted if he wasn't trying to check in and get himself settled, I would have just walked right up to him and start a conversation, because that is just how I roll.

Now over the course of a few days, I saw muscle man in passing and said my hellos, how are you doing today sort of things to get the conversation ball rolling. But, he never bit it so, I just dropped it. But as I am laying by the pool, he walks in and I had to strike at that moment. It was now or never. I walked past muscle man and just started a conversation. He asked me to sit and we talked for a very long time. Now keep in mind the whole time I am talking, all the girls are sitting behind me and I can feel all the eyeballs on me. The conversation was great! Had stuff in common, liked beer, all the important things. As the night set in, it was time to get going and get ready for dinner. But, he asked me if I had any plans for the next evening and would I want to hang out. He wanted to go to a local dance hall that had a mechanical bull...he had me at mechanical bull. Well, how am I to get in touch with him you ask? Well, I could just call the room, but that is just silly and down right dangerous...stranger danger! Hey, I have an idea!! He says, how about I just leave my business card at the front desk and you can come back down later to get it and then we can chat? Light bulb of an idea! Ingenious I tell ya!

Later that night, all us girls are taking over the lounge area in the lobby like we normally do because lets face it, we are kind of a big deal (Not really, but a girl can dream) and as we are still discussing Lord knows what, guess who happens to be coming down to hand over his business card to the front counter? Yep! Muscle man! The thing that I had noticed however was that he had a stack of business cards in his hands. But I didn't think twice about it because hey, he was beautiful! So, of course I walk up and he passes his business card to me like its a pseudo drug deal thing going on. We chat a bit more and immediately head back to the girls to facebook stalk him. Hey, you know you have all done it! At least I admit it! All looks normal, typical pictures with scantily clothed girls in bikinis. Nothing out of the norm.

As the evening arrives for me to "hang out" with muscle man, I am not sure why, but I am not feeling it. I am not feeling the excitement of the company. But as a nice person and one who always tries to follow through, I had to. Who knows, maybe this may end up being a great evening if nothing else but fun! So, after I get back from dinner with the girls he is waiting for me in the lobby and dressed to the nines in cowboy attire. I was totally not expecting that AT ALL. I mean a bolero dude? Really? Whatever. Lets roll! So off in a taxi we go to the dance hall. Its college night at the dance hall. Oh joy! Tiny people dressed in daisy dukes and cowboy boots with big buckles, drinking PBR and twirling their hair. (I twirl my hair but not dressed like that, so its totally cool). Before I head over to the bar to gather my own adult beverage, I first must head back to where I left my shoe on the floor. It was so sticky there from all the spilled beer, vomit and I don't even want to know what else that my feet were sticking to the floor. I had to make a conscience effort to pick up my feet. Yucko! Shoe was back on and I had nice cold one in hand.

Conversation started out great then ended up as follows: "So, you said really liked living in Washington huh?" Yep. Its cool. "Well that's great! Whats your favorite part? The outdoor stuff or weather?" I guess I like both. "Oh okay, well any big plans coming up that you are looking forward to doing there?" Nope. Not really. "Okay then." Hey do you want to dance? "Yes!" (That way I don't have to talk to you anymore and try to pull any hint of interest out of you) (I am also thinking, what time is it, time to leave yet?) A few dances later and a couple of trying to show off that he can dance with a bolero on twirls, I mention that I have an early day tomorrow. Hint taken and we depart without ever getting on the bull. Sadly. I am pretty sure I would have had a much more interesting conversation with the bulls ass than I had with this guy. He was pretty to look at but ugly to try and converse with. On the taxi ride back, which by the way he had already gotten into before I had even returned from the bathroom. He called me as he was in the taxi and said, hey look to the right, I am in a gold van. Oh, okay....thanks ass! For a brief second, I was pretty sure that he had ditched me and I was already thinking about my revenge. Maybe a few business cards to be copied and handed out to various girls looking for a good time. Maybe....

Alas, finally back at the hotel and we part ways. Thankfully! The next day a friend of ours in the same group comes up to us and explains that this nice guy was just talking to her and said that he would love to hang out with her sometime. She couldn't so she told him that she knew of some other ladies that may be up to hanging out. I had to ask....what was his name? She said, oh well, I have his business card here. Imagine that...it matched the same one I had!

Oh muscle man, you have been downgraded to business card man and while you may think your plan of handing out your business cards to women is a perfectly sane and appropriate way to meet women, I must tell you that women talk and we talk about men. Especially men in the same hotel amongst the same group of women. I mean, how tight was that bolero anyway?

I only saw business card man once more in the lobby that week. Not sure if it was the I have eye balls on you gesture I gave him OR it could have been that the very business card he gave me was left in the lobby at the front desk for him to pick up. (I kept that little piece of info to myself...until now of course).

With love and big buckles,

Sheri