Gold Lame

I set up a date with a guy from Lake Arrowhead. He had a somewhat decent profile from what I can remember and one decent picture. “Gold Lame” was a doctor (I thought I’d hit pay dirt), said he drove a sports car (which didn’t make much sense considering he lived in the mountains) and had a daughter (could be worse. He could have had two). When he arrived at the restaurant it turned out that he was the shrink for a mental ward, drove a Mazda four-door and wasn’t yet “fully” divorced from the mother of his kid. Not that any of these points alone were bad (except for the not yet divorced part) but it just showed his propensity to stretch the truth. Add all this together and include him wearing a gold lame shirt to lunch and I’m sure you can see where this date was headed.

Now, I firmly believe you can pretty much decide within the first few minutes of meeting and talking with someone whether or not they are someone you would like to pursue further. I determined right away he was not of that sort. We swapped small talk and waited for our order to be taken. We weren’t waiting all that long before “Gold Lame” showed yet another red-flag. He became highly agitated and decided it was time for him to go hunt down the waiter. I’m not the most patient person in the world but even I wasn’t unhappy with the service. We really hadn’t been waiting all that long. He found the waiter and brought him back with him to our table. As the waiter took our order it was very clear how irritated with him he was. I’m 100% certain that there were a little more than carrots and dressing in our dinner salads that evening. My date’s clear lack of respect for people in the food service industry turned me off more than his wardrobe from 1984.

I figured the date would be over before I knew it so I just decided to ride it out. We received our DNA salads and the conversation lulled so we could eat. I looked up at “Gold Lame” just in time to see him shoving a huge forkful of lettuce into his mouth and a leaf falling out of it. I’m sure it was just bad timing as this guy didn’t seem like the sloppy type but he may as well have eaten a booger. In addition to his rudeness with the waiter and his wardrobe it was quite apparent to me that there would be no second date, at least as far as I was concerned.

Towards the end of our lunch though, he began referring to future events. He mentioned how he loved visiting Pasadena. Then, as if things couldn’t get more awkward for me he said we should continue hanging out all afternoon. He suggested us going for a walk through Old Town then actually getting dinner and having a few drinks. I didn’t want to spend another five minutes with this man let alone spend the whole day with him! I only hope I didn’t stutter too badly when I lied about meeting a friend later when all I really had planned was an evening of take-out and online soulmate searching.

Due to the overwhelming abundance of boring, run of the mill online dating profiles, I decided to write one that actually reflected my feelings. And if you will notice, I not once mentioned the detested phrase "I love to have fun"...

About Me:

First off, I’m a mess. I drink too much. I smoke too much and my favorite TV show is “Cathouse” on HBO. I’m not particularly fond of babies that cry, even if they are related to me (although my sister swears I’ll be more tolerant once I have one of my own). I’m in debt up to my ears and can’t seem to hang on to a dollar to save my life. If it’s in my wallet, I can guarantee you that it won’t be there long.

I’m narcissistic and insecure. I love the outdoors but not if it’s too hot or too cold. I don’t care to be out of my comfort zone and don’t like to be inconvenienced. I’m very selfish and will often think of myself first. Unless I really, REALLY like you. I love my family but don’t really want to see them. I’m still slightly hung up on an ex and I’m highly oversexed. I bore easily and don’t care for rejection. Much like “The Godfather” I’ll only ask once.

I’m lazy and once I’m off of work I don’t really want to do much of anything. Education is not that important to me and I don’t consider ones education to be a deal breaker. To say that I have issues is an understatement. However, I do have this to offer. I am fantastic in bed and I’ll make you laugh as I don’t take things too seriously.

What I'm Look For:

I want a man with a full head of thick, dark hair. Cut short. 6’ plus. Olive skin. Big biceps, tight ass and six pack abs. I also love me some chocolate. In such case, hair is optional as long as you have amazing traps. Somebody sarcastic with a slightly romantic side. But not so romantic that he sings to me or recites poetry because that will make me laugh instead of swoon. He doesn’t have to love his job just as long as he has a lot of money to spend on me and support my knitting habit.

If he’s sober and doesn’t drink we won’t match. If a non drinker says he doesn’t mind you drinking he’s lying. The drunker you get the more judgemental he will get. You call when you say you’ll call. Oh yeah, and you love to give massages but don’t like to get them because I hate to give them.

I want a man with no ex girlfriends/wives or children. Preferably a virgin so that I can mold him to my specific likes and dislikes. A man that hates videogames would be ideal because I like sex too much. One more thing, IF after I have just posted 987 photos on Match (Plenty of Fish, Yahoo, Etc.) and we get to talking and/or emailing PLEASE don't ask me if I have any more pictures. Especially, if you have none or one posted yourself. If you do ask me this then you are a retard and good luck getting to first base.

My Ethnicity:

To put it simply, I’m a mut. I’m a quarter Slavic and the rest is a mix of English, French and some other western European countries.

For Fun:

I love to watch people and make fun of them. I adore knitting but only knit scarves because I don’t have the patience to learn how to follow a pattern. Scarves are pretty basic and straight forward. I feel at home in craft stores and have bought so much crap that I could and should actually open up one of my own. I also love to paint, draw and write. I love to talk about myself and watch documentarys on MSNBC.

Favorite Hot Spots:

I love the beach but only if it doesn’t have any sand. I love to party with friends but prefer smaller settings. I don’t particularly feel the need to be stuffed like a sardine in the highly pretentious Hollywood club scene. If I can’t make my way through the crowd to the bar than what good is it to be there? I also don’t consider standing for 5 hours in heels to be much fun either. No seat, no go.

Favorite Things:

Money, yarn, wax, sex, TV, music, bath and body products and eyecream. Not particularly in that order.

My Religion:

I’m not particularly religious. I’ve never been baptized and if I’m going to hell because of it then I’m sure I won’t be going alone. Although, if there is a God and I get rejected at the pearly gates I’m sure going to be upset with my folks for not taking care of that when I was a baby because I don’t particularly care for extreme heat.

My Education:

I graduated high school, what more do you want? I went to college for a few days. Wasn’t my cup of tea. Does that make you love me any less? At least I know the difference between “there”, “their” and “they’re”. That’s more than I can say for many of the profiles written by people claiming to have “their” Bachelors degrees. If you actually consider “kewl” as an abbreviation for “cool” than we shouldn’t be dating also.

Last Read:
My profile because after reading hundreds of others I’ve come to realize that mine is the only one worth reading. At least mine is honest.
___

And YES, I did actually post this on all the above mentioned dating websites. The responses were far more interesting than you'd imagine...

I went for a nice walk at Griffith Park this evening with a blind date. I needed to get out of the house and get some fresh air since I have been so miserable lately. After our walk, my date and I decided to grab some coffee at Starbucks. We hit up the local strip mall and right next to the Starbucks was a Quizno’s. That was when I made my mind up. As much as I hated to actually spend money on going out I figured that the $10 I had left in my wallet wasn’t going to help me out of my current predicament anyway. So, fuck it. I decided to treat my constantly upset, stressed out stomach to a meatball sub and some soup. Mmmm, broccoli cheddar soup. Quite possibly the best soup in the world. Almost better than sex soup. Wait, depending on the guy…BETTER than sex soup. I was gonna have me some balls and soup.

I couldn’t tell my date about my decision because I had already told him I had no cash on me for coffee so he would pay. A little white lie, but not that far from the truth. I had, after all, driven out to see him down in Hollywood. And I hate driving into Hollywood. After coffee, my date left to go to Ralph’s since he needed to pick up some stuff and I made my stealth get away. That probably wouldn’t have looked too good had he seen me buying food right after lying about my lack of funds.

Excited about my dinner I snuck my way into the sandwich shop with the stealth of a black panther. Being careful not to catch the attention of my departing walking mate. Once inside I made my way to the counter. I needed to make this food purchase fast.

“Hi. Can I get a meatball sub?”

“I’m sorry, we don’t have meatballs right now”.

Hmmm, ok….? That was the first sign I should have made a B line for the door but I was there and they still had my better than sex soup. Something else would have to suffice.

“I notice you are still offering a large sub for $5. Does that include any large sub?”

“No, just these on the Value Menu.”

Ok….? Hmm, which one of the five subs listed should I opt for? So many choices, what should I do? Of course, as if to mock me, my beloved meatball sub was among the five staring back at me. So really, I only had my choice of four. I wasn’t feeling ham and cheese and I didn’t want the turkey. The chicken wasn’t screaming out at me either so I decided to go big and check out the rest of the menu. How much more than $5 could a sandwich cost anyway? I opted for the Black Angus Steak Sandwich.

As he was making my sandwich, I told him that I would also like a cup of the broccoli cheddar soup.

“We aren’t selling any soups right now.”

WHAT? WHAT? No meatballs AND no soup? The only two things in that entire stupid place I wanted were NOT being sold THAT day. Dumbass behind the counter just looked at me as I’m sure my disappointment was quite obvious.

“I don’t know why. We just don’t have it right now.”

So, that answered that. I was stuck. Suddenly, Chinese was sounding really good to me but my sandwich was already rolling through the toaster. Ugh!

Crestfallen, head hung in defeat, I walked to the checkout counter. That’s when I saw the sign by the register that read “We do not have any meatballs or soups available today”. In all my excitement I had raced straight to the sandwich making counter. Completely unaware of the disappointment that lay ahead.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” dumbass asked.

Yeah, how about some fucking soup!?! “No thank you”.

“That will be $8.18.”

Not only did I have to pay three dollars more for a sandwich that I didn’t even want but I wasn’t even getting a side or drink. What the hell do they make these sandwiches out of to dignify charging so fucking much? Do they lace them with blow, pot, E? I know the bread is good but unless it is made with Cristal and yeast these people are committing highway robbery. In addition, I had to use my last “saving for laundry” quarter due to the .18 cents. Damn them. Damn them all to hell.

And just in case you were wondering, the Black Angus Steak Sandwich sucks.

Dear Karma,

I’d like to have a one on one conversation with you. I’ll buy you a drink, cut you a line, drop you a pill, whatever it is you need. I’ll do anything to get your attention.

I realize that you have your hands full kicking my ass around and ruining my life but I’d like to explain a few things to you and perhaps, just perhaps, sway you back to my side of the fence. And to show you that I’m serious, I’m willing to give you a few people that you can focus your energies on instead.

The Ex boyfriend. I knew him for approximately six years before we actually started dating seriously. He was a Taurus, I’m a Sagittarius. I should have taken that as a hint we wouldn’t make it in the long run. We dated for two solid years until he broke up with me over the phone. I didn’t even get a post-it. We connected a year later but after telling me he was still in love with me, he eloped with another girl because she was of the same ethnicity. People think being white is a free ticket to the world. Screw that. However, he still wants to be “friends” because he cares so deeply for me. In fact, he often tries allowing me to show my deep gratitude for his care by ripping up my knees and giving me lockjaw.

The Ex-boss. This douchebag had his sister shitcan me out of the blue saying “business was slow”. Come to find out he had hired an ex girlfriend to work my position less than a week after my “dismissal”. I should have seen that one coming too considering he had asked me out at least twice before and I had told him no on both occasions. He then called me a month later to see if I would be interested in picking up some hours while his sister was on vacation for a month. I resisted the urge to tell him to fuck off but instead just said I was unavailable. Unfortunately, a few days later I did become available and sent him a nice email letting him know my circumstances had changed. He never bothered replying and I later heard through the grapevine that he had hired the employee before me (whom he’d been trying to get rid of for almost a year) to cover for his sister. And I must not forget that he actually offered to pay me to loose weight! Heaven forbid he take his own advice and go for a walk once in a while.

Nigeria. If I get one more scam response to a serious job inquiry I’m applying for I will promptly sell my overpriced, undervalued car, fly to Nigeria and kick some ass. No, I’m not interested in taking your $4000, keeping $400 of it and Western Unioning you the difference. Only to find the account you sent me the money from in the first place belonged to some poor schmuck that was too dense to realize that if it’s too good to be true…IT IS! And NO, I will not give you $14,000 so you can give me $2.5 million. I've got an idea. Why don't you just deduct the $14 g's and give me the balance. Sound good? Good.

HSBC Auto Financial. I’m just mad at them for actually expecting me to pay for my car. I really have no legitimate gripe against them except that I’m paying double what the car is really worth.

Spencer Pratt. What a fucking dickhead. If I actually need to explain anything about this egotistical, bible thumping, disrespectful douchebag than perhaps, Karma, we REALLY need to talk because you are severely confused.

See Karma, I’ve done most of your homework for you. Now, could you please get off my back for a minute? I can barely take a shit because you are riding so far up my ass. But alas, I’ve got to run. I need to write a letter to God apologizing for getting his son killed. We have to work a few things out also.

So, it has been suggested to me by a very near and dear friend (I’d swear she was my Gemini twin if she were also a blonde) to start a blog. It has come to her attention that I seem to have a plethora of things to say on any given subject. With this I’d agree.

Being as this is my first blog entry I’ll start with today, move backwards to give you my history. Then hopefully move on to bigger and better things.

Today sucked. This a game I like to play with above mentioned friend. We compare notes, bitch about the days wrong doings and how much God has come to dislike us. She thinks she was Hitler in a past life. I think I was Judas. See how it works? I won that round.

At this point in the game, I’m 31, just lost my job AGAIN, in desperate need of making this months rent (with was due today), have no significant man in my life and am at home alone watching “Trekkies 2” for the umpteenth time on Showtime. I also had the glorious opportunity to chat with my Indian representative at HSBC Auto Finance after receiving a notice saying they were ready to repossess my lovely ’05 Toyota Corolla. Which, I’m paying entirely too much for because I have an APR of 196% due to my shitty credit.

On a good note, I have a great rack, a ton of blonde hair and amazing eyes. I also have a very active and glorious sex life. All is not lost.

As you can probably imagine, most of my entries will revolve around the male of the species and my interest in acquiring one or more of them for my permanent collection. I don’t mean creepy, chained to the basement kind either. I’d opt for ladies but I have no desire to Dine at the Y. Sorry, but if I “ever change my mind” I’ll be sure to “give you a call”. At this point, my family is seriously getting on my nerves about becoming an old maid and I do get a little lonely from time to time. Sex is awesome but I get bored of having to ask men to leave. “What is your name again?” is not the best way to start the morning.

So, how did I do so far? I’ve either driven you to the brink of desperation (in which case, say “Hi” because chances are I’m standing right next to you) or you are curious to see how I’m going to dig myself out of this mess and end up on top. On top of whom? Not sure yet.

Also, I find it only fair to give you a heads up that I’m a fairly open book and as I long as my dear grandma isn’t reading this I will continue to be so. So, if bad language, graphic descriptions of my many sexual escapades and ridicule of others tripping offend you than you should probably move along.
Cheers!