Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Goldilocks and the 3 Bears of (not) Christmas Past

For those of you who are used to my blog posts being short and funny, and have therefore come to expect it, I apologize. If I were Tucker Max, I could no doubt turn this tale into a laugh riot and a half, but alas I am not. It contains some rather personal and painful things for me, but it is what is happening in my life right now and it's one of those things that needs to be put to the screen.

When I was 20, I was staying in a small condo with the girl I was dating at the time. One day in the small parking lot outside of the front gate, I found a dog named Tiny wandering around. Tiny was HUGE, black and white, fluffy with huge eyes and soft ears.

I have always had a bit of a thing about dogs since I had always wanted one and when I finally did get one when I was about 8 (a golden retriever puppy, I named Ruff Ruff) she was promptly given away by my grandmother while I was at school one day. I was scarred and desperately wanted a new dog every day after that.

I got the phone number from his tag and called Tiny's owners. The man I talked to was at work and hadn't even realized that Tiny was gone. I kept Tiny for the day, feeding him raw hot dogs and taking him for walks with a piece of rope tied around his collar.

When I returned Tiny, the owners thanked me and explained the gate was broken. The kids were happy to have Tiny back. I was the hero.

The second time Tiny showed up at my place, the same scene went down. This time I urged Tiny's family to fix the gate. It became routine. Every few days Tiny would come spend the day with me and I'd take him home in the evening, urging them to fix the gate.

After several times, I was going out to check the mail and it was no surprise for me to see Tiny on his way to my front gate, only this time Tiny was limping. He had been hit by a car and he fell down at my feet and died in my arms.

I'm 29 now and it seems I'm still taking in strays. I woke up from a nap on a Tuesday evening with a message on my phone from Tyrone (names changed to protect the innocent) inviting me out for some drinks. Since he was buying I rushed to the bar. Tyrone, Gorton and Garth were waiting on the patio along with a girl I didn't know.

It turned out that Tyrone had met her before anyone else arrived when she offered to share her ashtray. She lived in Glendale and had taken a $50 cab ride to get there. It soon became evident that she was a drinker to compete with and more than just a little crazy. She got drunker and drunker as we skipped from bar to bar passing out in each can ride but always pulling it together to an incredibly sober like state walking into each bar until we got to the Bikini Lounge.

For those of you not from Phoenix, the Bikini is a bar with a tiki theme and a history and reputation in Phoenix as the dive of all dives. We walked in and she promptly passed out in my lap after telling Brook what beautiful hair she has and running her hands through it. My wounded bird syndrome kicked in and I was now her protector but even a protector needs a piss and a smoke now and again so after awhile I asked Dylan (who had met up with us at some point in the night) to keep an eye on her.

After explaining to two guys in the bathroom that, "No, that girl isn't giving me oral sex under the table." "No, I didn't know her before tonight." and "No, you can't take her home." and having a cigarette, I came back to the booth and found only a guy I didn't know sitting there. I rushed outside and found her, wide awake and soaking wet. The bartender had seen her asleep in the booth and splashed her with cold water.

We were drunk enough to be convinced that she had sobered up enough for another beer and stopped at Sidebar and by the time we were done, she was passed out on the side walk out front. I fire man carried her to the cab and threw her in. We dropped off Tyrone at his place and I took her back to my apartment. The cab driver helped me hold her up so I could get her over my shoulder and slip her shoe which had fallen off into my back pocket. I helped her change into a pair of pyjama pants and put her to bed.

In the morning I cooked pancakes but Goldilocks wanted vodka. After a bit of conversation I realized that she was a very cool girl with great taste in music, a massage therapist and coming down off of heroin. She was drinking to ease the withdrawals and keep her mind off of the drug.

Maybe I'm an enabler or maybe I'm just a sucker but I poured her a vodka and another and another and she took me out for beers and spent a second night. The next morning I started to wonder if I had a new roommate as she didn't seem to have any intentions of going home but she finally called her sister in Scottsdale as she was supposed to stay the night with her so she could get her to court in the morning. Court for her DUI related accident.

That's why she'd taken a cab. She had told us the previous night. I tried to avoid the topic mostly because 8 years ago my sister and her husband were killed by a drunk driver. She was pregnant and my nephew was in the car but survived with only a broken leg so the topic was a bit awkward to say the least. I put Goldilocks on the bus and life resumed as normal.

She called me on Saturday. She had made her court date but not without incident. She told me that when she got off of the lightrail at one of her transfers she spotted Tempe Tavern across the street and decided to stop in for a drink. 6 hours later she was still there, her sister picked her up and dropped her off in detox then picked her up in the morning for court. She was now sober and we agreed to see a movie on Monday since she would be downtown to get her phone out of her car at the impound lot.

Monday rolls around and I hear from her. She's gotten her phone back and decided to celebrate at the bar, forgetting about our movie. I tell her I can't make it out as I am sick as a dog (true story) but within half an hour worry myself into an unbearable level of guilt and get on the lightrail to meet her at Tempe Tavern.

When i got there she was six beers in and had probably 5 more as I fended off the daytime regulars who were trying to take advantage of her inebriation, putting my arm around her and putting on my best tough guy face (thankfully I hadn't shaved in a week). I texted Garth and he comes down to have a beer then helped me get her the hell out of there. She agreed to go back to my place.

After about a half an hour she claimed her sister was coming to pick her up though based on the way she hid her phone while texting I can only assume the person who actually picked her up was someone who would buy her more drinks.

Three days later I get a call from her again. "Can I stop by?"

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, sort of..?"

"Where are you?"

"Tempe Tavern. I just...Can I stop by?"

"I guess."

"I'll be there in an hour."

Two hours later and she isn't responding to texts and my phone calls are going straight to voicemail so despite still being sick I jump on my bike and go looking for her. Up to this point, I had been using the Tiny story to explain why I kept trying to help Goldilocks but as I was riding to look for her I had a pang of a familiar fear that I had forgotten about since childhood.

Growing up, my mom was a junkie. Meth. I never saw her use drugs and I never saw her high but that meant I also sometimes didn't see her for days at a time. I was a fearful and sensitive kid and often worried about what might be happening to people when I couldn't see them and was always afraid that my mom was dead until she would turn up again as though nothing had happened. My mom is cleaned up now and a great mom and I have come to terms with all of the past stuff and it usually isn't a big deal but I had somehow pushed this fear out of my memory. Suddenly it came to me sharply and I felt a bit ridiculous for using the dog story.

With some quick mental math, I found Goldilocks at one of the two bars that are within walking distance of the lightrail stop drinking beer with a friend who she said she had known for years and had met her at the lightrail stop. "Order a beer." she said.

"No thanks. I need to get home. I just wanted to make sure you were alive." and I rode away.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Online Dating: The Username.


I like online dating. I don't know why it has such a stigma attached. Looking at someone's online dating profile is like reviewing an application to date you. What could be better than that? You get to make sure they meet minimum requirements before inviting them in for an interview/ first date. You get to see their grammar and punctuation put to use if that sort of thing is important to you.

That being said, I don't think a lot of people really think through what their dating profile says about them. Case in point is the user name. A user name doesn't have to be spectacular. I doubt that there are that many people who has messaged someone then gave them wild sex and went on to marry them and have their babies based on their awesome OKCupid user name, but I for one, have avoided someone who had a bad one. Here are a real examples.

Givesgooddates - Does this name give anyone else dirty thoughts? How many guys is she giving good dates to? If she gives dates that are so good then why is she still single?

yanks4life - I am pretty sure she means to tell us that she's a big fan of the New York Yankees but we are all thinking about hand jobs now right? Come to think of it, that's probably less offensive than being a Yankees fan.

corrie1976-2011 - I checked her profile and it says nothing about her being dead so I have no idea WTF this means. She does use "LOL" 5 times in her profile, so maybe it's a joke I'm missing since she is obviously hilarious. Maybe the "LOL"s are masking the pain and the predicted date of her demise is a cry for help.

dreshatesyou - She hates me already? All I did was read her profile. Hating me from the onset only attracts me if we meet in real life.

Starting_Again4u, bubbly_4u, be4u4u, Thaea4u, Brn_eyed_Girl4u, etc. - I absolutely hate the inclusion of "4u" in user names. First of all I hate abbreviating words as letters and numbers (unless you happen to be Prince). I can understand for something you want to keep short like a dating profile user name but "4u"? 4 who? Is it 4 me? You don't know me. Maybe it's 4 everyone. Who are u 4?

tightlikespandex - Is she talking about... umm... ok.



Friday, May 6, 2011

Product Recommendation: Just a Drop

For my birthday back in November, my good friend Julia gave me a few little goodies. I believe that this one was meant as a gag gift but it has proved to be one of the most genius products I have come across.

What is Just a Drop? It's a courtesy flush in a bottle. I have a very small apartment and the bathroom is off of the kitchen. When you have a lady friend over and you are cooking for her, nature is not necessarily going to hold her call. Just a drop of Just a Drop into the toilet from the conveniently pocket-sized bottle pre-use holds in the odors. It's like something James Bond would have Q create.

I have since bought a second bottle for travel purposes to avoid the extra faux pas of wrecking someone else's bathroom. This shit is brilliant.

*Addendum -- I can't believe I forgot to mention this, but it comes with a handy little travel pouch. Classy!

Monday, March 14, 2011

Celibacy: Last Day

BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH.

I am aware that my celibacy is a slightly short month... like a February. Black history and celibacy get the short end of the stick on this one, but the symbolism of Valentine's day to the Ides of March is too good to mess with.

Tomorrow is the Ides of March. The date Julius Caesar was stabbed and killed. I don't know about killing, but ladies, beware the Ides of March because some stabbing is bound to go down. Heyo.


Monday, March 7, 2011

Celibacy: Day 21

I'm sure you're all wondering how the date went and I am sure you are wondering because you're concerned about my general well-being and happiness and not because you are the type to stop and photograph a train wreck. You hope that it went well and that I maintained my celibacy, despite having a deep and meaningful connection with this girl. You all hope, in fact, that my celibacy simply strengthened our bond and opened my eyes to the path to love. Right?... Liars. You're all full of shit.

I should start by pointing out something that I learned about OKCupid and the graph in my last post. It wasn't a graph of her compared to me, it was a graph of her compared to the average OKCupid user so my last entry was full of some bullshit and I retract, correct and apologize.

The date went fine, though awkwardly. She was even prettier in person which of course turned me in to a bumbling idiot, but I managed to keep my shit together for the most part. She taught me to play an Italian card game called Scopa. We played cards and chatted over coffee. Nothing of note to the positive or negative.

Normally if a first date goes well I will go in for the kiss. If it doesn't go well, I will go in for the kiss anyhow because what have I got to lose? Certain things can throw this off like a borderline OK date with a girl I'd like to see again and celibacy.

I was clever and charming with some post date texting, securing a second date. But then...

By Monday i was firming up a movie and some drinks when I got an email from her giving me the whole "in full disclosure." Apparently a casual relationship she had been in went beyond casual over the weekend (I have that effect on women). Anyhow, we decided to do the movie anyhow, just with the good ol' "as friends" tacked on.

I didn't receive much lady advice growing up but one thing than was instilled in me was "bitches be crazy."

Yours Celibately,
Me

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Celibacy: Day 17 - Date

I'm a sex on the first date kind of guy. Not one of those guys who dumps a girl who won't put out on the first date, but I'm nothing if not a man of passion and most of my best relationships have started with first date sex. I have no qualms about it and have been known to get stuck in the friend zone when it doesn't happen that way.

I have a date this afternoon with a girl from OKCupid who is rather adorable and innocent looking. Then I clicked the tab that shows this graph.

For those of you who don't know, OKCupid has a bunch of questions that you can answer about various topics to determine your personality so that it can compare you with easy to read graphs. The one here shows which personality traits she is rated higher than me on and by how much. More sex-driven, passion-driven, kinky, experienced in sex and sloppy?! How is that even possible? I am in for a world of hurt.

I am now pouring a little Bailey's in my coffee and hoping that you'll join me in toasting day 18 of celibacy.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Celibacy: Day 16- Still At It.

I haven't posted in a few days and you all thought that meant I had failed didn't you? Well I didn't. The force is strong with this one. Nature did however handle the problem on its own but I will spare you the details since for the people that I know, this blog is gross enough as it is, but it was then that I realized (Have you ever noticed Carrie Bradshaw says that in every single episode of Sex and the City?): Celibacy is a load of shit.

I didn't realize that celibacy is a load of shit in definite terms yet. It just hasn't really done what I expectected. In fact, it has done the opposite. Instead of clearing my head and allowing me to concentrate my energies on things besides sex, it just makes me think about it more. It's the slingshot effect. The more I try to pull myself one way, the farther I am going to shoot the other.

On day 13, I thought I was going to lose it. I was going a little nuts and was starting to worry about the effects, but when mother nature gave me the happy ending package, I felt clear headed (pun intended) again. I will give it the additional 2 weeks mostly because I want to prove that I can do it but also because it may make differences in things that I haven't experienced yet in my 16 days of celibacy. For instance, I have a first date tomorrow.. with a very attractive young lady.. who I will not have the sex with...