baby i got yo number

I used to be the queen of handing out my phone number to anyone (typically dudes) who asked for it. When I was drinking. When I was sober I had a little more sense. As I've gotten older and thoroughly realized the quality of men who ask for phone numbers from highly intoxicated ladies I got better at saying no. Having a boyfriend also helps with this (It also helps that now it isn't a lie when I tell the dudes asking for my number that I have one. It must sound more convincing).

So despite not having given out my phone number to any randoms this year I still occaisionally get text messages or have missed calls from numbers I don't recognize. I'm never sure if it's from a long past random or someone completely unrelated to this but either way I typically ignore it if they don't leave a message or some kind of identifying information. This didn't work with a text I got today from someone who wrote, "Who is this?" Seeing as I hadn't texted or called this number EVER far as I could remember I wanted to text back, "Well, since you're the one texting me shouldn't you know? And who is this?" But I refrained since smart ass ness doesn't always communicate effectively through text. And what if it was someone I know professionally? Against my better judgement I texted back my name and politely asked who it was. Some dude named Nick. That was when I realized more than likely it was probably a long time ago random cleaning out his phone but I couldn't remember a Nick. And I have a cousin named Nick. Although he wouldn't have a California area code. Then, the dude proceeded to send me a picture message of himself that resembles a male glamour shot. That's when I realized why I have my no response unless I know the person's number rule and continuing to text the dude would be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. That didn't stop Mr. Nick from continuing to text me like he might get a date out of this random person he couldn't even remember meeting (not that I was any better off since even the picture didn't ring a bell). Since I haven't received a text in the last couple hours I think he finally got the hint.

online dating

I'm not currently online dating nor will I ever do it again. But I'm not ashamed to admit I've tried it. Mostly because I believe in the ol' don't knock it 'til you've tried it adage. But partly because I thought, why not see how else I can meet guys aside from the assistance of a shot glass and bartenders or running down the street (story for another time). It was this short lived experience that I've realized online dating is not the way to go. At least for me. And I don't think for most others either. No matter how many times Eharmony claims they have a great marriage success rate. Well, you combine enough desparate twosomes a decent amount will probably get married.

Okay, so maybe it isn't fair to classify all online daters as being desparate since I certainly wasn't desparate when I tried it (that's what I keep telling myself) but there are definite distinctine groups of men on these sites (or at least the one I ventured onto). The largest batch of guys I nicknamed the "no way in hell" guys. Obviously they weren't anyone I would have even considered dating and if they’d read my profile with the slightest bit of common sense they'd have realized that and never messaged me. In their defense, I recognize there might be a small amount of egocentrism on my part. They could have genuinely thought I’d be interested in them. But I wasn't. So those are the guys I didn't respond to. At first I felt bad because I thought, if they have enough courage to message me at all they deserve some kind of response. But after getting an obnoxiously large number of these I realized I didn't have time for all that (I had a real man to find on that site after all!). The reasons they weren't guys I would date were as varied as the guys themselves. Some I would have never been physically attracted to even with Will Farrell’s personality. Some had opening lines and/or profile descriptions that I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to come up with even if it was my intention to turn off every single person in the world. My favorites were (and yes, I wrote them down; they were that good): “I have less than nine percent body fat,” (Is that 8.2 or 8.76 percent then? And does anyone really care the exact body fat percentage of anyone?) and, “You aren't dreaming. I AM real. I know what you are saying. "He's perfect. It's too good to be true." (I'm hoping he meant that as a joke but I’m still counting it). Then there were the guys who despite my insistence that I am not on there for an intimate encounter, still thought I would bone them immediately (And none of these guys resembled Brad Pitt in case you were wondering.). And last, there were the dudes who posted all these shirtless, muscle pictures. Like the Shania Twain song, that don’t impress me much.

That summarizes the guys who I didn't respond to. Next come the guys who seemed cool at first. They're at least fairly attractive, appear to be normal, there's nothing necessarily jumping off the page but maybe they aren't very adept at advertising themselves. Fair enough. I still gave them a shot. Then, as soon as I'd agree to a date and gave out my number they'd text me like it was their job. One dude I agreed to go out with on a Friday called me and he seemed nice enough at first but then he made several comments during the conversation involving how he thought our first date should include a hot tub in his apartment complex. I said, how bout we meet somewhere for dinner not at your apartment since I don't even know you (word for word)? And then there was the one who mentioned an ex-girlfriend and a couple girls he'd met on the website, which are topics of conversation I don't mind coming up but not in a first conversation! And from a relentless texter, "Yea, I like you." Okay, dude you didn't even know me. There was an strong air of desperation oozing from this group, although, unfortunately most times I didn't realize it until I was already out with them.

Last, there were the ones with a lot of potential. The ones who I considered to be on this site for the same reasons I was, good-looking, no obvious hang ups, and actually had a personality I think I'd be attracted to in real life. It didn't work out with any of these guys, partially because I think most of them were just looking to get laid. One actually told me he was on there because his roommate had done it and got a lot of action. "Not that I'm on here for that reason," he quickly followed up with.

Needless to say I got the h off that site quickly and can now say I've done it, it doesn't work for me, and I maintain that living in the real world, enjoying your life is the best way to meet someone.

backing that arse up

I love to dance. Anywhere. Anytime. With anyone. Well, okay, almost anyone. I'm pretty adverse to dancing with those boys who think it's appropriate to approach a girl at a club by humping her butt. I like to be twirled, dipped, and don't even mind some dirty dancing once I'm comfortable with my dance partner (which comes after the face to face twirling and dipping); however, there's something entirely too primative about the butt approach for me. I'm really not into alpha males who are still in the beginning stages of human evolution. Particularlythose who love to advertise that at dance clubs.

That being said I still love to go out dancing. In fact, that's the only reason I enjoy clubs at all. Otherwise I'd be okay without ever experiencing that meat market. Other drinking establishments are different. Sure people go there to hook up but just as many go simply because they have a friend in town, it's someone's birthday or they've tired of drinking in their own home. It seems to me that the only reason to go to a club is to dance or hook up. Sometimes both happens. And that's fine. I'm not against people getting their groove on with random strangers. I am against the approach most men use to get this groove on (and really women too but that's not for this post). I've actually dated a guy I met at a club dancing... for a solid three months (long term relationship in my book).

And even with that experience I would still never expect to meet a man I could potentially have a relationship with at a club. A regular bar (or maybe a Snoop Dogg concert) for sure but not a club. This was never more obvious to me than this past Saturday when I went with a group of friends to a local club. I suppose I should keep in mind that this was a club notorious for a much younger, slightly less sophisticated crowd and it was the night before the big Vday so the vast majority of the people there were probably single, lonely, and looking to score. Or maybe those were just the ones I interacted with...

At any rate I was approached from behind by no less than two dozen males (and I know they were males even without turning around), asked for my phone number by at least half of them and some who had the balls to approach from in front, as well as invited home that night by two of them. The quickness in their approach to conquer was admirable. I'd never seen anything quite like it because although I was highly intoxicated I'm certain I wasn't giving off the have your way with me signals. Although I suppose high intoxication alone might give off these same signals. These men had no qualms about approaching those wearing a ring on the fourth finger of their left hand, those standing next to their large male significant other or those who use the word NO without mumbling (although slurring might sound like mumbling to some) over and over.

Now lest you think I'm getting a big ego about all of these men wanting to be with me I know it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it was me. It was solely because I have boobs and an arse... and other body parts. And the next day was the big Vday and they were lonely and horny. I know this because soon as I said the word no enough times for them to realize I wasn't actually saying yes they moved right on to the next gal with absolutely no shame in their game. And these gals were literally standing right next to me. Some of them being my friends. Needless to say I had to fight the extreme temptation to hand them my digits.



Sometimes you have to get onstage to escape the butt humpers

old(er) men

I'm fascinated by the sheer amount of older men who'll chase after younger women. Well, maybe fascinated isn't the best verbage, grossed out, repulsed, disgusted might be more appropriate. And by older men and younger women I don't mean 5-10 years, I'm talking more 20-30+.

It isn't even the age difference that grosses me out. I understand that love manifests in not entirely socially acceptable ways and that it's fantastic when two people can overlook our societal constraints and live happily ever after. I completely understand that sometimes you're working, volunteering, collaborating with someone not even remotely near your age group and feelings develop based upon shared interests, values, and just plain sexual attraction. What bothers me is when these men only seek out women significantly younger than them, like it'll keep them in Neverland or something. At that point the courtship feels almost predatory and dirty.

The inspiration for this post comes from a male senior citizen (I am not kidding, at least 65) that approached me on this recent past big Vday as I walked back to my car from surfing. He initially inquired about my surfing experience, which was fine. I typically have conversations with older men about surfing since they're about the only surfers I ever come into contact with (that and teenage boys; still can't figure out where all the guys my age that say they surf paddle out) and they're usually really fun and informative to chat with. Then, the senior citizen turned predatory and told me there was this band playing at a bar down the street that night and would I like to be his Valentine's date? Now, there's a difference between someone who's just teasing about such a thing and someone who's dead serious. I didn't sense any inkling of jokes in this man's voice or expression. My look of shock must have given away the fact that I wasn't entirely (or at all) interested because he followed up with, "Oh, do you have a man waiting for you at home?" The look of shock certainly didn't disappear as I wanted to reply, "Yeah, this look of shock has absolutely nothing to do with the obvious 30-40 year age gap here," but instead I just told him I had a handsome, much younger stud waiting for me at home, probably butt naked in my bed (Okay, I didn't quite say all that either.).

This isn't the first time this has happened to me. And I've seen it happen over and over to other young ladies. And some of them eat it up. Perhaps because they have low self-esteem. Perhaps they think he has money. Perhaps they know he has money. Perhaps they think it's funny. Perhaps he's Hugh Hefner (most disgusting person in the world aside from serial killers) and she wants to be a playmate. I don't really understand it because I get the "I want to puke in my mouth" feeling when approached. I can feel the desperation and it isn't attractive. At the same time I can understand it. They've probably been playboys their entire life and women their own age certainly aren't going to put up with that. At a certain point it becomes difficult to teach most old dogs new tricks. However, it still isn't attractive behavior. And so as not to sound sexist this goes for older women and younger men too. True love (regardless of age) equals cute while preying on those who aren't entirely emotionally capable of making sound romantic decisions equals not so cute.

homeless men love me

And so do teenage boys.

I'm not sure if it's like this for everyone else but I have distinct types of men (and I'm being generous with that term) who will always hit on me no matter the circumstances. Two in fact. The aforementioned. Let me preface this with that I do get hit on by other types of men but the amount varies according to the situation. However, these two types of men will hit on me whether it's raining or sunny (granted it's almost always sunny in SoCal), night or day, outside or inside, lookin' good or not lookin' so good...

Last week two homeless men passed me on the street and as I smiled at them as I typically smile at everyone because I think we all deserves at least one smile in ourday. One of them responded with, "Can we come home with you? We clean up real well, I promise!" I had to crack up because, honestly, that was probably the most creative pickup line I'd heard in a long time if not ever. Albeit, they did not accompany me to my humble abode.

Now the day before that I walked out of my apartment and was almost a victim of a skateboard hit and run. About eight boys (and I am not being generous with that term) on skateboards came down the sidewalk traveling somewhere around the speed of 35 miles an hour, which I'm guessing if they had hit me would do a decent amount of damage and being the age that they were it was highly unlikely they would have stopped out of fear of getting in trouble. As I stood there waiting for the next group to pass by me (they traveled in two packs) one of the boys asked if he could get my phone number. I swear to you this child was no more than twelve years old. I could have given birth to the kid if I'd been sexually active in the eighth grade.

And oh, these are not isolated incidences (Well, of course, since I've already said this happens all the time. I just needed a transition.). I had another homeless man (and I apologize if I was simply judging them on their appearance and they aren't actually homeless) offer to buy me a dress. More than a few have asked if they could come live with me. Kids who don't even yet qualify for a driver's license have asked for my number more times than I could count. And chances are 8 times out of 10 when I'm hit on while at a bar the guy's still an undergrad not on the Van Wilder path.

Now, I'm really not into homeless men. I'm sure they're really great people and from the conversations I've had with them most are very nice. It just seems like there'd be a lot of issues to deal with in such a relationship and I kind of prefer my dates to have their shite together. As for teenagers I have a strict 21 and over dating policy. If they can't get into a bar legally they can't date me. With that said I'm not opposed to being a cougar (although, I'm told I'm not old enough to call myself that and since I'm not actually sure of the textbook definition I don't know either) and have welcomed the opportunity to date the 22 and 23 year olds I encounter. In the past several months, though I've rethought that policy. I mean, if dating 22 and 23 year olds when I was 22 and 23 (or younger) didn't work out cuz they didn't feel like they had their shite together, what makes me think the 22 and 23 year olds of today are any better (although, I have two very positive examples in this area as both my brother and a good male friend of mine are in their early twenties and two of the most mature dudes I've ever met)?

Regardless I've been soul searching to discover why it is I particularly attract these two types of fellas. I've come up with the following conclusions: Perhaps I attract homeless men because I've never had much money and up until now, primarily focused on how little money I have (hence attracting those with the least amount of money). Or maybe I'm one of the only ones who smiles at them? As for the teeny boppers I s'pose I do look kind of young (But really a teenager? I'm flattered yet unconvinced.). It could also be that I feel very young. I certainly don't feel the late twenties age I supposively am so maybe they feel that energy. Or one other thought is that in the past (I think I'm over it now) I've had something of The Peter Pan Effect in that I don't want to grow up so perhaps I'm putting out that energy and attracting males who I definitely wouldn't get into anything remotely serious with (hence the homeless and youth of today), thus avoiding a relationship, which is certainly one of the most grown up things you can do. I'm starting to learn to strike a balance between the maintenance of youth and becoming a grown up. Still they continue to hit on me so all theories may be null and void.

blue eyes

Recently I met this guy at a club and we had a scintillating dance party. Mostly because he didn’t try to hump me in the butt when he made his approach. Also, he spent a significant amount of time twirling me around. There was the exchange of some entertaining banter (aka witty flirting) and he was cuter than most so I gave him my phone number when he asked for it. However, when he called me I couldn’t for the life of me remember his name so I put his number in my phone under the nickname “Blue Eyes”. But not to worry, I had a brilliant plan to figure out his name without directly asking. I’d call him during work hours and get his voicemail complete with his name on it. All would have gone according to plan had he not answered my phone call. Still, not a problem. The next time he called I purposely didn’t answer so he’d have to leave it in a voicemail. Indeed he left a voicemail but referred to himself as my dance partner. After about a week of corresponding without the use of his name (and oh, he knew mine) I finally got his voicemail. Finally I was going to find out the mystery name but then dammit, I couldn’t understand what he called himself on his voicemail! It took what felt like 18 years before he eventually left his name on my voicemail. Luckily I didn't have to introduce him to anyone in that time period. I was safe! Until I didn’t reassign the pseudonym his real name and forgot it again. Thinking I was doomed to repeat the previous week and a half and debating whether this is even someone I should hang out with if I can’t remember his name, it came back to me again later in the day. By that point, though, I had become quite attached to the pseudonym so I just added his name to it until I felt safe enough that I wouldn't forget it. Now I just need to figure out his last name…