During my mid 20s, unlike a lot of girls who even to this day are in denial, I accepted the hard cold reality that I will never date or marry a professional athlete. Some girls are just blessed with quality looks and perfect bodies, others are just normal and average. The ugliest of guys can turn attractive to any girl upon discovering that they not only have money, but are popular on a national level. Where mostly these guys have a money hungry skank parade following them everywhere they go, others are humble and do not indulge using their popularity to bang as many chicks as possible.
Since I've never dated a huge name in the sports world, my life took a turn in to the semi pro realm during my mid 20s. For those of you that don't know, I had a very promising singing career back then. Not only had I released a 5 song demo that was being shopped around to other singers to cover, but I had also become a National Anthem singer. The gigs ranged from semi pro boxing matches, hockey, soccer and even 2 Pittsburgh Penguins games. Looking back on those golden years, I encounter some strange individuals, that lead me to believe that looks and money aren't always everything. Here are some of my experiences:
The Hockey Player
During my singing career, I had landed a national anthem gig for a semi pro hockey team. I had never been to a real hockey game before, so I found the idea of men basically beating the shit out of each other in an attempt to score a goal rather sexy. I had had my eyes set on this one absolutely gorgeous player. Of course, being attracted to power, he was the co-captain. He appeared to be around my age, and by looking at the program, I understood why I was attracted to him...He was not from Pittsburgh. He was build like a brick shit house, and his ass was perfection, especially in his uniform. Before I even knew there was a term for it, during every game I would "eye fuck" the hell out of him. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, this wasn't just lust, this was an animalistic attraction. Finally, on the verge of giving up and my 4th singing appearance, I was stoked when a team staff member approached me right before I was about to perform, telling me that my dreamboat player was asking about me and wanted my phone number. At this point, I was the happiest girl alive. With all the confidence in the world, and giving one of my best performances, I patiently awaited to hear from my hockey player. Like any normal guy, he abided by the 3 day rule. When I received the call, I felt as if I was 16 again and crushing on the captain of the football team. When he asked me out, I couldn't wait.
The date was set, so I put myself in to A-game mode, and made my way to the Wexford area to meet him at the house that he was staying with his "host family." When I pulled in to this neighborhood, you would of thought I had entered heaven. The houses were at least 750k mansions that were just stunning. When I arrived at the house, I had instant lady wood. It was the nicest house I had ever been in. Greeting me at the door, he was wearing a white t-shirt (the type that a guy would wear under a shirt, and a pair of denim jeans. Not that I was wearing a prom gown, but I definitely felt over dressed considering his attire, thinking we were going somewhere nice. He then proceeded to introduce me to his "host" family's nanny, who thinking about it now really resembled Tiger Wood's ex wife. She was polite, and I could only understand every third word she was saying, but he proceeded to give me a grand tour. In addition to the 7 bed rooms and open spiraling staircase in the living room of this house, it also had an indoor pool, bowling alley and movie theater. Knowing that he was only staying there during the season, there was still wow factor to him at the simple fact that he inhabited this house. After the tour, he asks me if it's ok if we go run an errand real quick. Still in awe about this house, I agree and it was at that point that things started going down- hill very quickly. We hop in to a beat up mini-van (it was more brown than white considering the rust that had been on this thing) and like two Mexican illegal immigrants, we make our way down the highway. As he is driving (and mind you we are both 20 at the time), I notice a cooler in-between the driver's side and passenger seat where a console used be. I asked him what the cooler was for (thinking maybe he was an avid fisherman or something), to which he proceeded to open it up to show me an entire case of Budweiser...on ice. While driving he then cracked one open, and pounded it before we even got to our location. Confused and a little terrified at the fact of what may become, we ended up at K-mart of all places. Sitting in the parking lot, he then pounds another beer, and tells me that he will be right back, leaving me...in the car...underage...with a case of beer and 2 open containers.
I start to freak out a little bit, and started to think "ok maybe he is just nervous, but this is even a little weird for me." Finally 10 minutes later he comes back with nothing. At this point, I am super confused as to why he incorporated a trip to K-mart in to our date activities and didn't even purchase anything. In addition to the drinking, he also was a chewer, so seeing something bulging from his pocket didn't really phase me I just assumed we were making a chew run. We then arrive back to the mansion, where as he is getting out of the car, rather than a can of chew falling out of his pocket, I am stunned to see a box of condoms laying on the ground. Not only was I on a date with an underage alcoholic, but I had also been invited to attend my own condom run. Looking down at the ground, and livid I asked him why he felt the need to have them, to which his response in a cocky tone was "We'll you know, just in case," and winked at me. At this point, dumbfounded by how non chaliant this guy was about the condom thing, in a polite way I told him that would not be happening. Convinced that his good looks and cocky attitude would get me to give it up, he started to play nice and asked me to come inside and watch a movie in the theater. After informing him that he will not be getting laid, he seemed ok with it and we proceeded down stairs.
It was the first time I had ever seen a screen that retracted from the ceiling in someone's house. It was so cool. Equip with leather couches, we proceeded to watch the movie, while I maintained a safe distance away from him. Eventually in a horrible attempt to recreate a scene from Full House, he inched closer to me and put his arm around me. For having a shitty personality, he had the body of a brick shit house. With a beer in one hand, and his other arm around me, we started watching Office Space. 10 minutes in to the movie, and up to his now 5th beer, the liquid courage started setting in. One minute I am snuggled up next to a sexy yet sort of douchy semi pro hockey player, then next thing I know, out of nowhere I'm getting mouth raped by this guys tongue. I don't recall what was worse, the fact that his tongue provided my teeth with an impromptu cleaning, or the fact that his breath smelled like what I imagine leather soaked in urine tastes like. Then the dry humping began, and at that point I felt like I was making out with a rabbit on steroids. When he started getting handsy, I stopped him. Still being naive and in my early 20s, I was still in the mind-set that by telling a guy no, he will respect you more and my body was a temple blablabla. Mr. Hockey Player didn't like the word no. After giving me 7 reasons why I should in fact have sex with him, I politely excused myself from the room, ran as fast as I possibly could out of the house and left. I never expected to hear from him, nor wanted to ever again. A few games later, he actually got traded and had a successful semi pro career until 06. That is where his google trail turns cold, and I now envision him being an overweight copy machine sales man with a drinking problem...
The Boxer
I had a pretty steady gig singing the anthem for boxing matches that took place at a casino. The fights would take place every two months or so, and being that 85% of the boxers were local, keeping up with that strategy, they brought in me, a local singer to perform the anthem before the main event. I had been singing at these matches for a little over a year, and networked my ass off making a ton of connections and friends. One night, I spotted a local boxer, who I had heard of before but had yet to officially be introduced to. He was pretty cute, and normal looking. Dark hair, blue eyes, and judging by the amount of chest hair he was sporting, I would make the educated guess that he was Italian. Every fight that I had previously watched of his, he had won, which turned the hotness factor up to full blast. My good friend Leah had been dating a boxer who trained with the one I had my eye on. I begged the guy that Leah was seeing to pass my phone number along to the Italian boxer. He told me he'd see what he could do, and 2 days later I received a text. Super excited that things were actually working in my favor, we began to text for a week (at which he was funny, easy to talk to and very humble). He finally asked me out and we began to plan our date.
Being that in my mind, this was no ordinary guy, but in fact a semi pro boxer, I made sure to have my A game ready. I begged Leah to come over to help me with my outfit, hair and makeup. Once everything was assembled, I went on my way to meet him at the halfway point between our two houses.
When I arrived in a fast food parking lot, he was waiting for me. He was all decked out in his white shirt and Guido gold chain rocking Jesus on his necklace. He was a lot taller in person and had the prettiest blue eyes I had ever seen. I was instantly smitten. I immediately started thinking that if this works out, him and I would be the "Zack and Kelly Morris" (Saved by the Bell) of the local boxing scene.
That's when he opened up his mouth....For someone sounding normal via text messages, he was completely opposite in person. Where I don't remember the conversation, the only normal moment I remember was him telling me that he was 27 and was considering retiring within a year. Other than that sentence, the convo was all over the place. He would begin a sentence with one topic and end with something completely different. He would be in mid sentence and would pause and break out in to laughter for no obvious reason, claiming that he was thinking about something funny from earlier in the day. A few times during our date, I even caught him talking to himself. After the 3rd time mistaking that he was talking to me, and he was in fact talking to himself, I had a brief moment of clarity and thought to myself, "Jesus Christ this kid is like Forrest Gump, I think he has gotten hit one too many times in the head."
Upon concluding of the date, he brought me back to my car and proceeded to kiss me goodnight. I felt the need to pity kiss this one, because there was something obviously wrong with him and I felt bad. What started as a pity kiss, he attempted to turn into a "let's make out on the hood of your car," in which I wasn't having it. I said my goodbye and instantly called Leah to fill her in on every play by play of the evening.
That next week, there was a fight. The boxer and I had been in contact all week, however it was very limited contact. I didn't want things to be weird or awkward considering we would in fact run in to each other at these events. Being that it was the eve of a title bout, there had been some interviews in the local paper that I didn't bother reading because I figured it was stuff I already knew. That night, my mom, dad, Leah and myself headed down to the Casino to partake in some pre fight gambling festivities. We drove separately because Leah and I wanted to go to the after fight parties. As I was sitting at a slot machine next to my mother, she informed me about the news article. My own mother informed me that the boxer that I had previously gone out with a week before, was not 27 but in fact in his late 30's, and his girlfriend was also interviewed in the newspaper showing her support. Being livid, and Leah laughing her ass off uncontrollably, I decided to send a polite yet sarcastic text to the boxer calling him out on everything. Since he already thought he was in outer space, he proceeded to laugh about it and not really grasping the severity of how pissed I was. Leah's boxer had been acting a little shady too that week, so she decided to begin drinking well before the fight to calm her nerves. Normally, during almost every singing event, my mother and I would bump heads at times, her being more nervous than me and me getting annoyed because would dictate to me what I should and shouldn't do before my performance.
That night, Leah was the greatest buffer ever. Belligerently drunk and making a scene, my mom had a new person to shift her nerves towards with Leah. After singing was done, and considering I drove us that night, Leah waited to hear from her boxer. A half an hour went by, and no word. Finally Leah decided to call up to his hotel room to see where he was at, when she received the shock of her life. A young lady answered who proceeded to tell Leah that she was the boxers girlfriend. In a moment of drunken clarity, we proceeded up to the boxers room where Leah and the girlfriend proceeded to exchange timelines discovering that they were in fact being played. Enter sudo boxer. Upon seeing both of the women he had been dating in the same hallway, the mental picture of his "Oh Fuck" face will remain in my distant memory.
Pulling Leah's drunk ass down the hallway, I got her in the car and we started driving home. We later found out that that evening the boxers actual girlfriend ended up beating the shit out of him. Just when I didn't think the night could get any worse, it did...
Driving on back roads from the casino, there is little to no street lighting, which leads any cautious driver to turn on their high beams. Unbeknownst to me, I was unaware that it was illegal to drive with them on, especially when the car passing you in the opposite direction on the 2 lane highway happens to be a cop. I get pulled over, and have an underage drunk person ready to pass out in my front seat. Begging Leah to just keep her shit cool, she sits up stone cold staring straight ahead and does not make eye contact with the cop. Upon giving him my registration and him walking back to his cruiser to run my information, the events of the evening and the nerves of getting pulled over got to Leah. She proceeded to start throwing up, in the front seat of my car catching it with her hands and then trying to throw it out the window as if it was a soccer ball and not liquid. Fortunately the cop let me off with a warning, and the entire experience turned in to a memory that I had hoped to forget.
The Football player
One random Friday night, Maria and I decided to go out to a bar that we normally wouldn't frequent, just to break ourselves from the monotony of the South Side scene. We ended up at a bar past 15th street, which was unheard of for us. The bar was jam pack (then again, it was so small that 30 people made it seem busy), but luckily we managed to find 2 seats at the bar. Sitting down, we then noticed a group of guys next to our seats that were well beyond wasted. Being a little loud, they weren't really harming us in anyway, but it was clear that they had been drinking for quite some time. All of a sudden I noticed a decent looking guy heading our way. He really wasn't my type at all, he had slightly balding blonde hair, and was wearing an Affliction shirt, which for me is the ultimate vagina repellant. Being in a good mood, rather than being so cynical, I decided that if he did talk to me, I would play it cool. Eventually he made his way over and he was even cuter up close. Excited that he may actually be a normal individual I was then discouraged when he came up and started talking to us, but directing the conversation more towards Maria's than me. He opened by apologizing for the guys behind him, claiming that they were his friends and if he needed to keep them in line for us he would. Assuring him that they were not a bother, the conversation continued...with Maria....
There is nothing worse than being single and out with your friends when you spot a cute guy, only for him to approach one of your taken friends and not you. It's almost like God's way of smacking a single person in the face, with your friends unintentionally doing it. The interesting thing is, a respectful guy, once he knows a girl is taken will back off, which is what this guy did, shifting his attention to me. Nothing is a bigger turn off than feeling you are second best to one of your friends, but to witness it first hand...that only means game on for me.
Now that the attention was focused on me, because knowing that I am single, I am all of a sudden more appealing. Knowing this, I tried to play nice and give this guy the benefit of the doubt, but secretly knew that after this night, things would go no further. Making general conversation, and visibly seeing that he was getting drunker by the second, he was very reluctant to tell Maria and I what he did for a living. Maria and I had to pretty much pry it out of him, for him to finally tell us that he was the Quarterback for a semi pro professional flag football team. From the minute the words Quarterback were spoken from his plump luscious lips, it was as if we had invited a Vampire in to our conversation. During the next 10 minutes of our conversation he used the word "Quarterback" at least 8 times. Being that he went from being super modest to semi cocky by allowing 1 word to be entered in to the conversation, I decided to drink more with the hopes of playing nice. That didn't last very long. Upon abusing usage of the word "Quarterback" for the 9th or 10th time, I looked at him and said, "Wow, you really enjoy being a Quarterback don't you?" To which his response was, "Well yes, I do. That's why I don't tell people up front. If I would of walked up to you ladies and introduced myself as a quarterback, what's the first thing you would think?" Staring in to his pretty blue eyes, not sure how I wanted to answer this question, I looked him with a stone cold stare and said, "Rape." As Maria almost spit her drink out of her mouth in laughter, he looked at me with a stunned look on and his face and said, "That's not very nice." My reply was simple, "You know for being a Quarterback, you really don't have thick skin do you?" Knowing that I may make this poor guy cry, I decided to lay off the sarcasm and try to be nice. Maria and then got formally introduced to the guys behind us turned out to be fellow teammates.
His teammates were cool as hell. There were 4 or 5 of them at the time in one group and they were so nice by buying us shots and talking to us. I thought that maybe I had found new friends that could adopt me as a little sister, considering I always wanted a brother, and what better to have a football team protecting you? That's when one of the super drunk members made me lose faith in all humanity again.
I have my back turned to the group so that I could focus on the Quarterback, when the next thing I know, one of the players wraps his hands around my upper body and is literally hanging on me. Not being formally introduced to this one, I only knew that he was the loudest and drunkest and could hear his entire conversation about his proudness for Black History Month from across the room. With his arms slowly getting tighter and tighter around my upper shoulder area, rather than introducing himself, he looks at me and then Maria and says, "I'd do you so hard, I'd break your hips". Shocked and blindsided by this comment, Maria and I just laughed it off, while the Quarterback kept asking us if we were ok and he would make him go away if he was making us feel uncomfortable. In the spirit of the moment, and the influence of the vodka spirits that I had been drinking like water, I decided to be nice I mean I did have a Quarterback to impress, and rather than starting a war, I decided to use poetry as a form to keep the piece. I then proceeded to recite the lyrics to TuPac's - "I Ain't Mad at Cha" in such a way that went from a rap song to a spoken poem. You would of thought I had turned in to a priest, because he was praising every line I was saying from the song. The Quarterback turns to Maria, who has tears forming in her eyes and asks her, "Is she always this sarcastic?", to which she replies back, "You ain't seen nothing yet."
We then proceed to another bar, were we actually get separated from the boys. They were having issues getting in and Maria and I were too cold to wait, so we just walked in expecting them to follow. I was a little bit pissed that I had not gotten the Quarterbacks phone number by this time, but I blamed it on fate and got on with it. 20 minutes later, we spotted them, and my Quarterback came over. He was drunk out of his mind at this point, assuring me (without me questioning) that he was in to me and not Maria, and he wants to take me out and he really likes me. The 17 year old version of myself was dancing around as if I had just got asked to prom by the most popular guy. The 28 year old version of me was facing the reality that I was actually taking advantage of a drunk guy to lift my self esteem. For a minute, I felt a sense of self loathing, but after doing another shot, I bounced right back. Eventually, the inevitable happened, and a fight broke out with the team and some random guys, causing my Quarterback rush to his teammates side, promising me he would call the next day. 1 text message...that was all that I ever received from the Quarterback. Where deep down, I could tell that he wasn't serious at all about getting to know me and that I was just a random girl that he met out drunk one night, I think the worst part of all was that I came to find out though a bit of light Facebook stalking that he lied about his age. He told me that he was 27 (making me feel like a predator), when in fact he was in his early 30s. Why anyone would lie about their age to someone who is within a year or two of it, is beyond me. I should of followed my initial instincts that I had learn the hard way a few years before, "Never trust a man who wears Affliction clothing and claims to be an athlete."
Keeping it real -
Shelby
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