1st time for everything

so last night was wednesday. today is thursday.

now you're up to date.

wendesday nights are my one night out a week. i go to the same bar, listen to the same band, chat with the same bartenders EVERY. WEDNESDAY. i call it my #wednesdaynightshenannigans. there's usually not actual shenannigans happening, it's just the idea that there could be.

i know all the bartenders by now. i'm friends with the band (that's why i started going years ago). i know most of the other usuals.

IT'S MY FUCKING CHEERS.

so. last night i'm in my happy little zen spot and unknown asshole sits down next to me. not a big deal. it's the kinda place that people from out of town gravitate to- mellow atmosphere, good music, close to most of the downtown hotels. i've had some fun conversations with people in town only for a few days- all sorts of interesting occupations they travel for.

asshole last night started off pretty rough- right away wanted to see my tattoo. ok. i have tattoos, people like to look. THEY'RE NOT BRAILLE. they're not scratch and sniff. THERE'S NO REASON TO PET THEM. oh yeah. holding, petting, generally creeping on my arm. and then my wrists. THANK HEAVENS the others were covered or not visible at least.

DEEP BREATH.

so, he backed off and we actually had an interesting conversation. then he started creeping up on me again. and i tried to very politely make it obvious i was not open to this- kept my arms crossed, leaned away from him, looked straight forward the whole time.

towards the end of the night he started this sentence: "...so, I have a really nice room at Hotel Lusso..."

OH. FUCK. NO.

i tried to deflect- oh, i've heard that's a good spot to stay when you're in town. better than the super 8 ha ha. 

subtlety is lost on this asshole.

"You should come back with me and explore this connection more."

umm...yannno. NO. HELL NO.

told him i was flattered but would have to decline.

FOUR TIMES IN A ROW.

not getting the hint: if i won't go back to his room, how do i feel about public displays of affection in a bar? 

i'm not that girl. sorry.

"really? i don't even get a kiss?"

seriously- what part of NO isn't sinking in?

and it didn't end there. it kept on for another 45 minutes with him getting more and more aggressive about it.

at one point i even pulled out a pretty good standard deterrent for extreme cases: "I have a submissive at home and have to stay within the confines of that relationship."

this USUALLY does a few things: it's not only a form of a relationship they're treading on, it's also a fetish or unusual type of relationship that makes *most* people uncomfortable. if you simply say boyfriend, guys like this will just keep on- oh, you don't have to tell him, i'm better than he'll ever be...the usual bullshit. so i usually go straight for the jugular pulling out the "submissive" word. *usually* works just fine.

not this time. this guy starts in about wanting to be cuckold.

OH. SHIT.

so i keep politely refusing. NO, i will not change my mind. NO, i'm not going back with you.
 
then this bomb dropped: "i've never been refused before."

isn't that what serial killers say?

immediately the hair on my neck stood up.

OH. HELL. NO.

and the asshole is still UP ON ME. and my bartender is watching and letting me know if i need help he's ready to bounce the asshole.

i'm getting very uncomfortable at this point. the guy is still touching me, RIGHT IN MY EAR to talk to me, generally being a creep. i'm trying to be polite, don't want to cause a scene, this is MY bar after all- he's only here for one night, i'll be back next week.

i would like to escape to the dance floor, but i know he'll follow. i would like to leave, but i'm worried he'd follow there too.

FUCK.

he asks AGAIN if i'll go back to his room with him. this time, with the bartender paying FULL attention, i said: "why would i go back to your room? i'm not the girl to go back the room of a traveling sales man and be his free hooker for the night. i deserve better than that and i'm not going with you."

my bartender knew full and well at that point what was going on and really started to watch me. i'm actually so uncomfortable i'm shaking. this guy is just NOT backing off.

and this guy FINALLY backs off a bit.

THANK HEAVENS.

so i quickly pay my tab, grab a friend of mine in the crowd (who happens to be a sturdy guy who works out often and plays semi-pro football) and ask him to walk me to my car.

YES, i asked someone to walk me to my car.

i've never been legit worried about some creeper in a bar before. this guy just set off all the red flags though.

i got home and i was SHAKING. that guy really got to me. he wasn't drinking at all, he was just that creepy of a guy. and to not take a hint. AT ALL.

and i felt so guilty- i know my bartender was being AWESOME and watching out for me. i felt bad he was worried and had to watch out. i feel bad that i didn't squash it the first time asshole tried to touch my tattoo. i feel bad that i wasn't less embarrassed and more vocal about telling him no. why should i be polite when he's trying to make me a free hooker? i was angry that he even thought it was ok to proposition me AGAIN after the first time.

it was honestly the first time it had ever happened. i've had guys try to pick me up before but backed off after i said no once. i've had drunks try to be all suave and it's painfully funny to watch. i've never had someone completely sober be so aggressive about repeatedly trying to pick me up. that doesn't happen to me. i'm the chubby brunette they chat up while they're waiting for the hot girl to get there (not tearing myself down, it's the truth- i see them scanning the door every time someone walks in/walks by).

i've NEVER felt threatened enough to have someone walk me to my car. i'm eternally grateful a friend that i trust was there and willing to help me out. i'm glad i was able to quickly pay my tab and sneak out while asshole went out on the dance floor. i'll think twice about having a conversation with a stranger that sits down next to me. and i HATE that. i like talking to all different people. i like finding out where they're from and why they're in town. but honestly it will take some effort for me to be willing to do that again.

i just- THAT'S MY BAR ASSHOLE. that's my zen spot. don't come in and try to shit all over it. you'll probably never step foot in there again. i'll be back every week. don't you dare ruin that for me.

ok kids. this is an URGENT s.o.s. for help and a preemptive date blog all in one:

there’s another fish. heaven bless the full moon and all the crap it’s bringing out…my blog is LOVING it.

so- fish:

WAIT: back up…there’s one other fish in there- cue “biggest contradictory asshole in the pond”

and we’ll back up and tell the story now:

email from fish: “hello. you have really sexy eyes. and a nice top. i would like to see more.”

um. nice. haven’t we been through this before? i selected the most docile, plain, NON-SEXY pictures of myself i could find. one in sunglasses, one at work, and one at a friend’s birthday party. NOTHING DIRTY. no centerfold material, no questionable strapless tops (ok…the dress is strapless, but it’s a ¾ body picture…from far away…).

*sigh*

so i look at the fish’s profile out of sheer curiosity- “i’m the most respectful, nice guy. i would never do anything evil or degrading or mean to people”

so. being me. i email the fish back: “well, aren’t you the biggest contradictory fish in the pond. (played back his own words for him). piss off.”

fish: “you’re a bitck. that’s Russian for…well, you can guess.” (**editor's note: this is the first time i've been cursed out in russian...YAY me...i think...)

me: that's russian for YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE? i couldn't agree more. don't you hate it when someone calls you on your bullshit? perhaps you should remove your head from you ass before you email people.

so. there’s another fish out of the pond. cracks me up. so much for the nicest guy…ha ha ha ha ha…all the bullshit they put on their profiles because women are obviously stupid and we’ll never see through that…ever…at all. fucking idiot.

SO.

back to the s.o.s.:

fish: 40ish, landscaper, virgo, not my type, but not terrible.

initial emails were decent, good sense of humor, full sentences…showing promise.

THEN the freak flag comes out- decides that we should “accidentally bump into each other monday night” and if that works well he wants to go out again friday. REALLY? planning TWO already? we’ll give him points for courage.

then i read through his profile- the “first date” section- FREAKING NOVEL. and this is coming from _ME_. seriously…slightly creepy…goes through the whole date IN DETAIL about how it will go, what they would order, where they would go for a walk, the type of car they would both drive…little over the top there…

BUT…points for creativity…so…you know…how bad could a 30 minute date be?

so i email back- “where am i “accidentally bumping into you” and what time?

and here’s where it gets strange (well, more strange):

“Well Sherry, I remember it this way... You stop into PF Chang's (across from the Mall) for a tall iced tea 'cause its soo hot that Monday. I am at the bar/lounge & take notice of the pretty girl that just walked in dressed in a cute little outfit. I walk up to you & accidentally bump into your right arm... The rest will be history!”

630ish? PF Changs Lounge?

Berry

and yes, that’s his real name…sherry and berry…ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

but…the email…creep anyone else out? does it make you wonder at all if he has THE REST of the story already planned out?

“then i gently smother you with an ether soaked rag and assist you into my waiting vehicle. you awaken as dirt is being shoveled over you in the back woods of one of my “landscaping” jobs…”

i mean SERIOUSLY…is this freaking anyone else out at all?

*cough*

i think i’m getting sick…

*cough*

dang summer colds can sneak up on you real quick…

back to the point- do i go? to get what you KNOW will be a good story for ya'll? or do i NOT go to avoid BECOMING my own "breaking news at 11" story?

this is why tuesdays: fishing

so, i was talked into suckered into joining a free dating site.

~sigh~ i'll wait while you go get the popcorn. it's gonna be a good one.

so, all the dating sites in the world- they're ALL THE SAME. same people, same badly spelled profiles, same HORRIBLE pictures. it's terrible. really, really terrible. but, due to a lack of friends with "let me set you up" schemes, and lack of time to go douche hunting at the local bars, i'm stuck fishing online...cause that's what it is: plentyoffish.com fishing. HORRIBLE.

it's this gem of a site where i dug up "hmmmmm..." guy. oh yeah. que.all.eh.tee.

so. being gifted with an abundance of perserverance stupidity i've stuck with it hoping for the ONE GOOD CATCH. but alas, much like "the one that got away", there are none to be found. instead, i shall regale you with tales of that i have found.

ready?

fish #1:
first email: those are huge!
what? maybe he's...hmm...check my profile...nope...normal pictures...what the hell is he talking about? what are huge?
for clarity, here are the pictures i posted of myself:

as you can see...nothing scandalous, nothing racy, nothing flashing anything...just me. so WHAT are huge? i'm not understanding. i'm sure he's talking about the girls...but really? there's no money shots...nothing to display them...AM I MISSING SOMETHING?
so, giving asshat fish the benefit of the doubt i email back:
me: my sunglasses? i guess they're big, but not too much.
asshat fish: ha ha, you're funny.
me: so i've been told a time or two.
ahf: so, what are you into?
me: reading, movies, usual stuff. you?
ahf: i like to read too.
me: have you read anything good lately?
ahf: you know, let's just cut to it. you gonna show me your tits or what?

~snarf~

wanna guess what my answer was?

moving on. i know. you're shocked i let that catch get away. i'll give you a moment to recover.

*hmmmmm....*

moving on? so. first thing i do when the rare email comes in is to check the profile FIRST, before wasting any time reading drivel. so, email from fish #2 comes in: i check the profile and it is *shock* all spelled correctly and in regular human language. passed the first check point. stats seem mostly normal- likes to do normal things, no drugs, owns a car (yes, these are real profile questions). the about me section say he knows how to treat a lady with respect, is interested in having a good time and getting to know someone for who they really are. ummm...BULLSHIT. but you know...let's check the email just in case:

dipwhip fish: hey. your hot. waz up?

*blink* WHAT? what happened to treating a lady with respect? if THAT is treating a lady with respect...i think i found out why he's still in the pond. and what happened to the smart person that was able to string together enough letters to form an actual sentence in a real paragraph for the profile? and what happened to the person that knew the difference between your and you're??

~sigh~

and the last one for tonight. best for last. just for you my pets. fish #3 goes by the name drdondac1. hello doctor don. hmmm...normal profile...emailed a few weeks ago...normal conversations. would like to get together for coffee...blah blah blah...all seems normal. was able to keep up with quips and jokes. this fish *MAY* have some potential...hmmmm....(yes, i did that on purpose). so, drdondac disappears for about 2 weeks. whatevs. no skin off my ass. moving on.

OH WAIT.

email from the good doctor last night. apparently he's been in tennessee on government work for the last few weeks. so. what we're going to do now is give you the email exchange, and then we'll play: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? (and all the emails are word. for. word. nothing has been changed or paraphrased...it's as real as it gets.)

me: what is tennessee like anyway? i've never been there...anything exciting in the middle of all the work?
drfish: green
me: green? hmm...that happens to be the color i'm adding to my hair this friday. well, emerald.
drfish: wow. love to see that.
me: i'm pretty excited...getting the style changed for the first time in a few years, adding in the emerald instead of the usual purple. good to change it up now and again! something new for summer. what do you like to do away from work?
drfish: keeping natural down below or changes too?
me: wow...cuttin right to it huh?

drfish: sorry Im very straight forward but dont want to offend you sorry
me: i don't offend easily...just think boys are funny. truth? not much to make changes to.
drfish: Why not ? Little girl style?

~vomit~

ok. so. besides the fact that ya'll got a TMI in there with all that...ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? now, i understand that most people would have bailed after the first red flag question in which he completely ignored my trying to have a normal conversation and  jumping straight for the basement. BUT...you know...i thought i could steer the conversation away from CREEPY a bit and go back into non-freak range. i dared venture an email or two further...

i should have known better. once they turn into a freak you can never uncross that line. but i tried to...you know...move on...but then LITTLE GIRL STYLE? i'm sorry. my radar must be broken. i completely missed the I'M A CREEPY PEDOPHILE beacon that must have been running on FULL BLAST this whole time. caught it now. "little girl style"??? did anyone else throw up? everything from the last year?  seriously. i think i just lost about 15 pounds. WHO THE FUCK CALLS IT "LITTLE GIRL STYLE"??? you fucking pervert. creeped me the fuck out.

so. needless to say: i'm giving up fishing. apparently the spokane fish pond is a toxic chemical dumping ground. mutated, freakish, dear god what is that thing? fish.

~vomit~ sorry...just can't get that last one out of my head...WHAT THE FUCK?

so. all this is to say: i'm sorry kids. it may be a while before you get another terrible date story from me. i know. it breaks your heart. but what can i do?