Sunday, August 12, 2012

The Unofficial Guide to Reflect Unwanted Attention in Social Settings


                Saturday Night, Maria and I decided on a whim to venture out on the streets of the South Side to engage in a live erotic burlesque show, followed by some adult beverages.  After sitting through the 2 hour long show expecting to feel a bit frisky, I actually walked out with my brain being in a total mind fuck as to what I had just witnessed.  Still trying to wrap our heads around what the hell we had just paid $15 dollars for, we decided to stop at a couple of bars, considering we hadn't been out in a while.

                When we arrived at the first bar around 11:30, like any typical South Side bar, it was wall to wall people.  As Maria and I bought our first round, we surprisingly found a tiny area that allowed for some sort of personal space which is a rarity considering the bars in the South Side are so small that 50 people make it feel like you are in a mosh pit.

                As we sipped on our cherry vodka drinks, it felt as if we were in an alternate universe.  Its 11:45 on a Saturday Night, and we are just starting to drink.  Normally by this time, one if not both of us has crossed the border from buzzville to drunktown.  As we began to people watch, Maria and I noticed several things.  The most apparent was that drunk people are highly annoying when you are sober.  As we watched this spectacle of male and females, interacting with each other using alcohol as an ice breaker, this blog was born.

                When you are single, regardless of your mood that day, every time you walk out the door  to go out, as a female you secretly hope that you are going to meet someone that evening.  Whether it's a hot drunken one night stand, or a potential relationship, either way, it's like a cloud of unknown possibilities hangs over you.  There is however, that very rare occurrence where you actually just want to go out with your friends and have a good time, not looking for anything but bonding time.  Normally, it is on these occasions that you end up being freak flypaper, attracting the drunkest and most obnoxious person in the bar, who just won't leave you alone.   

                With the help of Maria, we have complied a list of things you should do in any given social setting, in order to avoid any unwanted attention that may come your way.  This will allow you to take control of any situation, and if played correctly, you will not be bothered by any member of the opposite sex for one evening.



Part  1 - Ways to "douche/cunt" proof yourself before leaving the house

                Think of this as a plan of action.  You don't want to be bothered.  You haven't seen your friends in a while, and you want to have their undivided uninterrupted attention.  Preparing yourself to be ultimate penis/vagina repellant starts at home and follows you to the bar.

Step 1:  Dress not to impress     

                Its very hard to not want to look good when going out, especially if going out is a rare occurrence these days.  As a human being, if you look at yourself and think "damn I look good tonight" chances are that feeling is going to radiate from your body.  This is exactly what you don't want, if you plan on not being bothered.  Douchebags and Bat Shit Crazies are as attracted to this as a coked out blonde in a flour factory.  I'm not saying go out looking like a homeless person, I'm saying dumb yourself down.  Don't put on that skanky dress that makes your boobs look fabulous, or put that polo shirt that shows off your psychique.  Wear something that either makes you not stand out at all, or stand out to the point where people scoff at you.  Pajamas are always my first option.   My second choice is just not matching whatsoever and appearing as if I am colorblind.  If you have the resources and knowing that you are going to a trendy club/bar, dressing in all black works too (and by dressing in all black I do not mean a dress for females, I'm talking black pants, black shirt, black shoes with no patterns or any kind of skin showing whatsoever).  In the winter, ski suits are a must have.  You may be hot as hell inside the bar, however, looking like the child from "A Christmas Story" deters anyone from seeing your actual psychiue, as well as creates a nice shock absorber from when some asshole or cunt bumps in to you because they can't drink, text and walk at the same time.



Step 2: Gas Up

                If your plans involve straight drinking, and no pre dinner activities, you have a great advantage.  Be sure, a couple hours before you go out, to eat foods that you know will make you gassy.  Know your limits though, stay away from anything that could give you a case of volcano ass.  You don't want to be shitting your brains out in a public restroom because that takes away from your friend time.  Nothing is worse than standing in a crowded bar and someone rips ass.  Where it is a genius way to obtain some personal space, it also ensures that people will not go around the area for about a 5 minute window.  Don't be coy and just bust ass everywhere .  Crop dusting is the best method to get you across a crowded room in record time.   Some creeper dancing with you?  No problem, you now have the ammunition to make him go running for the hills, without any hurt feelings.  Some annoying girl talking your ear off?  See how quickly she stops talking when she smells your new cologne "ode de ass".  You must take precaution and access the situation though.  If someone is shitfaced wasted, you could potentially start a chain reaction of vomiting, and ruining underwear is a lot less costly as ruining your Walmart sponsored outfit.   "What about my friends?" you ask.  Simple,  you deny the hell out of it.  Crowded rooms allow you to randomly point your finger at a total stranger, to which good friends won't question.



Part 2: How to not act in public

                In this section you will learn methods that may draw attention to yourself, however it is attention that will allow you to be left alone.

Step 3: Dance like everyone's watching

                Your at a club or bar with a makeshift jukebox or a Dj in a lone corner.  All of a sudden, a great comes, and you just want to shake it, but alone.   As a female, it is a golden rule to know 2 dances: the "I want to dry hump anyone right now" dance and the "I'm still a virgin" dance.  As a male, the 2 dances to know are: "The Motion of the Ocean" and "I Have an Uncontrollable Nervous Twitch."   Some people think that the way you dance is a mirror image, reflecting what you would be like in bed.  The key to being left alone is to appear that you are a terrible lay with no rhythm or concept of how to move your hips.  I am a huge fan of repelling the opposite sex by doing several old school moves: The Carlton, Sprinkler, Pinocchio,  Running Man, Lawn Mower, and my very own signature move "The Quagmire."  I have found that by doing these moves, rather than men licking their lips with naughty thoughts running through their minds, they actually scratch their heads, thinking What....The...Fuck...and move on to either one of my friends, or another group of unsuspecting women.   

                Normally in most cases, it is the men that approach the women when it comes to dancing, however in rare instances a sloppy drunk girl will head your way and try to do her best to gyrate on you.  This is where you observe who her sober friend is and hope that she is the designated babysitter of the evening.  If she approaches you from the front, instantly try to get a boner.  Do whatever you need to do and think about whatever you can to get it up.  From there start poking her with it, but not in her vagina area.  Poke her in the leg, stomach (depending on height), but most importantly I repeat not near her vag.  Next you need to put on your "O" face.  Make it aware to her friend that, "Yes this is the face you make in bed, and it's not something even a mother could love."  Not only will you look as if you have no rhythm what so ever, similar to that of a man that has never been touched, but you will surely get the attention of the sober friend, who will pull her away instantly, preventing her from a terrible drunk decision.



Step 4:  Got an Itch?

                This tactic takes a skilled professional to pull off because most of the time a fictitious story needs to involved.  This can be used when an unwanted conversation arises and you don't have an exit strategy.    Picture this scenario:  You are engaging in conversation with your friends, when you get interrupted by a drunk member of the opposite sex.  Irritated  and annoyed because you just want to have some "bonding" time, you realize that this relentless person will not give up without a fight.  The first step in this ruse is always the hardest, engage in a useless conversation.  Get about 30 seconds in, and squirm lightly, but not too much.  At the one minute point, while still staring in to their eyes, give your neither region a slight rub, but in quick manner.  The key is to make sure they have noticed.  For men this is easy because they scratch their balls all the time, like clockwork without even realizing it.  For women it is a bit trickier.  If you are male, you got this.  Remain to engage in the conversation, but start to scratch more and more during the convo.  For most women, this won't seem out of the ordinary, especially if they are really the baseball fan they "claim" to be.  If you are a female and doing this, you need to be more coy.  Make it appear as if you have just shaved and the hair is growing back.  This is where you have your out and have one of 2 options.  You can either  end the conversation right there by: excusing yourself from the conversation, stating that something is not right and you must go to the bathroom.  If the person you are trying to get rid of asks if you are ok, this is where the fun comes in and you can make up an elaborate story as to why you are scratching yourself.  You can always take the STD route which is pretty much sure thing, however, if you want to have fun with it, you have the creative freedom to make up anything you want.  Itching yourself in public may be a social "no, no" however it is recognized as the "international symbol for inappropriateness" making you less appealing to everyone. 



Step 5: Quack Quack (for women)

                Apparently there is an underground association of women traders who have prevented the memo about "duck" faces from reaching most girls ages 21-27.  I'm thinking about pitching this conspiracy theory to Hollywood with the hopes of it turning in to a Blockbuster sensation.  It's amazing that most women bitch about a man's unwillingness to communicate feelings, yet men have made it very clear on how stupid, childish and ugly women look when they make this face, yet there are a lot of women out there that insist on doing it because its "cute."  It's not fucking cute.  It doesn't make you more gangster, and it doesn't make you look pouty, it makes you look like a new breed of animal that is the main event at a freak show.   

                With all that being said, what a great way to repel penis then by doing this constantly, for hours while you are out?  No guy wants to look at a girl that looks like the angry spawn of Daisy Duck and Nemo the Fish.  For most of the women out there, the amount that you do this already has given you an unfair advantage to remain in this position for longer.  While writing this section, I have been building up my stamina, only find out that in 2 minutes flat my top lip is already cramping.  As I wipe the drool off my lower lip, due to the inability to feel it at the moment because it is numb,  it has dawned on me how well this tactic does in fact work. In 2 minutes of me experimenting with this, I actually began to become hungry for some bread.   Where I will always be an advocate for singles, regardless of my relationship status, I think I just discovered the correlation between female duck faces and single people.  Until you stop the duck faces,  you will be single, so in theory save yourself the $35 bucks for a dating website and just give it to me.



Step 6: Be entirely unapproachable

                I used to hear this a lot from my friends.  "You need to make yourself approachable"  they would say.  When I would question them as to how I do this, a variety of thoughts came to mind.  Shall I wear a shirt that says, "Yeah, I'm that girl from that dating website, I ignored you online but come talk to me now."?  Should I walk in to a room full of crowded people and do a choreographed dance sponsored by Paula Adbul  holding a sign that says "Free for the Taking"?  Or better yet, how about I just make shoot a personals ad, buy local cable spots and run it on Comcast, announcing to the world "Hey Come Approach Me."

                Its extremely easy to be unapproachable, considering I had mastered that when I was single.  Half the time, you don't even realize you are doing it.  It's as simple as being on your phone all night, not making any eye contact with a single person, and even going apeshit on someone when they move past you and touch either on purpose or on accident.  These can be fun ways to repell anyone, considering you appear to be preoccupied.  Throwing in cursing like a truck driver, speaking in a language that you made up on the spot, and being super loud and obnoxious and you have a recipe for a unbothered night!



With all this being said, it has been a privilege sharing with you my tips and secrets on how to repell people.  It's great for those nights where you want to be the cat, and not the litterbox that the ghost of annoyance shits in. 



Keeping it Real -

Shelby
Special Thanks to Maria for helping compile the list

Monday, July 2, 2012

Match.com event - Shelby's version - PT. 1

    

                Unless you live under a rock, or do not have basic cable, Match.com commercials are everywhere.  Just recently they started promoting a "perk" that a paying subscriber can participate in called: Stir Events.  These events are basically singles events, that subscribers can attend with the hopes of meeting someone in a safe environment that they have either previously been talking to, or people that they haven't met on the site yet. 

                With my $35 subscription came a lot of potential dates, a few weirdoes, and of course the typical ridiculous over-under ratio of age.  About 2 weeks in to my subscription, I noticed this thing flashing at the top of my inbox, so like a curious cat I clicked on it to see what it was all about.  "OH MY GOD.. There is a singles mixer in my area?"  I thought to myself in the most unexcited sarcastic undertone.  How original...Match.com finally decided to do what Plenty of Fish users have been doing for years.

                The only slightly exciting part about the idea of this event, was that I was allowed to bring up to 3 additional guests that didn't have to be Match.com subscribers, so my first text was to Chuck, of course.  Half the time, I don't even have to ask him because I know he is down for just about anything, but my second guest took a little convincing.  I decided to ask one of my co-workers to attend as well, because she too had terrible experiences with online dating, and I have been trying to convince her for   months to start her own blog, because some of her horror stories make mine look like a church sermon.

                With 2 girls and one guy, I made the executive decision that a 4th person was not needed for this adventure.  I was slightly irritated at the timing of this event, considering it was 1. on a Thursday Night, 2. at a bar in the Strip District (second least favorite place next to ShadySide), and 3. It just so happened to be the day before I was leaving to go to Miami for the holiday weekend, which meant I could not drink my face off and be the entertainment.  Instead I had to play responsible adult, considering catching my flight at the ass crack of dawn was more important to me than making a drunken scene at a singles mixer. 

                As the days grew closer to the event, so did the RSVP list.  As of 3 days prior to the event, 89 men had registered.  I had no idea what to expect, considering there was no age limit to this thing, and all I kept doing was having flashbacks of the geriatric parade at the Plenty of Fish dance.  I kept thinking to myself, "What if they are all Manthers?  What if someone I intentionally ignored is there? What if this is a sign that I have officially hit rock bottom?"  As the day of grew closer and the number of RSVP's went from 89 to 120, I knew this was either going to be a good thing, or the worst idea ever. 

                Finally the day had come.  As Chuck and my co-worker arrived to my house, we began to strategize as if it were a championship football game.  Being that my co-worker and I thoroughly enjoy fucking with people, she proceeded to give the run down on her alias for the night.  Her name for the evening was Linsley. She was a trust fund child from down south who's family was in the racehorse breeding business.  One of their horses had actually raced in the Kentucky Derby.  Chuck and I decided it would be more entertaining to go in blindly (like we had done before) and see what we can come up with in an impromptu manner, because that is what Chuck and I tend to do. 

                We arrived at the event about 10 minutes early so that we could check out the "competition."  I wanted to get their earlier because I intended on leaving early due to my trip the next day.  When we arrived, there was a huge group of people standing at the bar, so assuming this is when the fun was to begin, we headed over and got our first round of drinks.  About 20 minutes in to it, we couldn't figure out why this group of people was so clicky, to the point where they weren't even talking to us.  It had appeared that all these people knew each other.  I instantly thought that this match.com event was not a singles mixer, but in fact a recruitment for an orgy.  Finally "Linsley" walked up to a random person to ask them what was going on.  Here, on accident, we had actually unintentionally crashed a company's after work happy hour. 

                Approaching the hostess again, she then directed us upstairs, to where the actual event was taking place.  After feeling slightly dumb and irritated, we made our way upstairs to find roughly about 20 people standing around, clueless as if they were at a middle school dance.  Boys were on one side, girls were on the other, and the atmosphere felt like a meat market. Walking in to this event was the equivalent of walking down 5th avenue holding a sign saying, "I'm single, and putting myself out there..yay."   Being there were more females than males, I really didn't like the odds, however every male that was there at the time stood there with their thumbs up their asses, almost scared to move as if they had just gotten an boner and didn't want anyone to see. 

                As we made our way to the patio, we noticed that this was the area where the people that were actually social were.  Linsey had managed to bring with her one of the best ice breaking gimmicks ever.  She had brought an old Polaroid camera, to which she had every intention of using it to hook people up.  If she saw 2 people in a deep conversation, she would approach them, take individual pictures of them, and make them write their telephone numbers at the bottom and swap.  This was pure genius.  It was at this point that we started making friends.

                3 drinks down, and I am starting to feel pretty good, also meaning that I need to eat something or we are going to have another speed dating experience.  Chuck and I headed inside to search for the food that was being provided to us.  Once we found the table that was about the size of my stove top, we were disappointed to find not actual food, but appetizers, and shitty ones that that.  A cheese and food plate that fed about 20 people, quesadillas that were cut to the size of pita chip, and make shift mini pizzas that a kindergartner could of made.  It was at this point I knew I could not drink any more vodka. 

                As Chuck and I loaded up our plates to the equivalent of a free sample day at a red-neck convention, a blonde girl in her mid 20's approached the table with us. Chuck will argue that this girl was a red head, which leads me to believe that he was drunker than what he appeared to be, but it was a blonde girl.   She was very friendly and warm, and introduced herself to us, informing us that she had came alone.  Being that I hadn't taken a charity case in a while, I felt it was my duty to let this girl hang out with us, also with alterier motives that her and Chuck would hit it off.  After we introduced ourselves to her, as I was trying to stuff my face, the three of us began chatting.  Before we could even say a word the first thing out of her mouth was, "There are so many dating websites now, there is even one for dogs.  I'm going to try to find my dog a boyfriend."  As Chuck gave me a WTF look, I instantly excused myself stating that I had to find our other friend, and left Chuck to deal with it as I walked away trying not to choke from laughter. 

                I made my way back on to the patio, to where I find Linsey is the life of the party.  She is now engaging in conversation with a mixture of both men and women.  Eventually Chuck and his new found friend emerged, and we all introduced ourselves accordingly.  Instantly our new blonde friend had forgotten about Chuck and moved on to an older gentleman of Indian decent, to which Chuck was relieved. 

                Another boy/girl friend duo had joined our group as well.  Instantly you could tell that the girl had a crush on her "friend" but for whatever reason was trying to be the "cool girl" by bringing him to a singles mixer.  Him and I started chatting, learning that we lived very close to each other.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his female friend gritting her teeth looking as if she was ready to attack me, so I kept a safe friendly conversation going trying to prevent a scene from the Jerry Springer Show. 

                As the night went on, more people started pouring in.  It ended up being a vagina fest.  There were women from all walks of life: Trashy, Classy, Cougar, and Average.  The male scene, although slim, had a broad spectrum, it was either Manthers or 20 something's...and Chuck.   Roughly at about 7pm, one hour in to this mixer, it was obvious that people were starting to get drunk, especially our new blonde friend.  We found her sitting outside on a couch, alone, holding her oversized drink with a glazed over look upon her eyes.  She was in her own little world, but it was ok, because at least people know her there.

                Part of the reason of me going was to meet up with a guy I had been talking to over the course of my membership.  He had informed me that he was coming, and where the emails were short, sweet and to the point, and I found it a little bit difficult to hold a conversation with him, I figured that at least I knew one other person that was going, and power by numbers is how I roll.  I decided to have 1 last drink, since the subpar food had sobered me up a bit, when out of nowhere, this guy walks up to me and says my name.  My first thought is, "Oh Shit, I've ignored this guy" as I mentally prepared myself for a call out, only to discover that it was my email buddy, to which I was happy that I had dodged that bullet.  I don't know what came over me at this point, but I went from being slightly drunk to overly mischievous.  My email buddy had brought a friend with him also.  It was at this point I had a brilliant idea.

                "How much do you like your friend?"  I asked him.  "What do you mean?" he replied.  "How much do you like your friend, it is a simple question."  I snapped back.  "Well he is my best friend, so a lot I guess?" he replied with a bit of confusion.  "I have the perfect girl for him, follow me." I said, as the evil voice in my head started cackling in laughter.  As I lead them through the crowd and outside, I walked straight up to my new blonde friend, unknown to my email buddies friend what was about to happen.  I then introduced everyone to her, and said, "I think the two of you would get along, why don't you sit down and talk," and forced email buddies guy friend to sit down next to her.

                It was painful yet hysterical to watch, and with each dirty look that his friend gave me, I knew I had done a bang up job.  She at this point was pretty shitfaced, and quite possibly slightly slurring her words, while his friend was pretending to be attentive not to be a dick.  It was at this point that I let my email buddy in on my scheme and informed him about her and I's first conversation.  He laughed, told me I was evil, and we proceeded to make our own commentary as to where we thought their conversation was going.  After about 15 minutes of chatting, I could tell that email buddy's friend was legitimately ready to kill me, so I did what any normal person would do, and proceeded to make the situation even more uncomfortable.  I proceeded to call over Linsey, which at this point she had forgotten her cover because I called her fake name like 6 times with no response, so I eventually went running over to her.  "How many polorids do you have left?" I asked her.  "I have a few, why what's up? she asked.  I dragged her over to the couch where the blonde and email buddies friend were.  "You guys seem to be really hitting it off here!  How exciting!  This is my friend Linsey, and she is going to take a picture of the two of you."  As email buddies face turned slightly red in hidden anger, he gritted his teeth, smiled, and like a good sport complied as they swapped pictures and numbers.  I had figured he had just given her a fake number, considering the circumstances.   Finally blonde girl had to pee.

                "I don't know you, but I already know I don't like you." Email buddies friend said to me.  He then proceeded to recap for us the conversation that they had, which spanned from her love of animals, to her entire relationship history.  "So did you give her a fake number?" I asked.  "No." He replied.  Confused, I let it go hoping that blonde would come back to continue my entertainment, however she did not.

                It was now 8:30 and 85% of the crowd was wasted.   It appeared as if 50% of the drunken crowd was socializing enough with each other, that potential dates (and or possibly one night stands) were inevitable.  The Cougars were on full on prowl, the Manthers were a bit more submissive.  Knowing that they really shouldn't tread in younger territory, they pretty much kept to themselves and just maintained the creepy, "I'm going to undress you with my eyes and that's it" approach.  Chuck at this point had met a different blonde girl, who seemed to be a fan favorite.  She was dressed as if she was going to Bar Room, looked like she hadn't eaten in about 3 weeks, and I'm going to go out on a limb here, but I'm going to assume that the carpet didn't match the drapes.  She seemed to be annoyed at something, maybe that she was getting hit on a lot, because her demeanor with Chuck (who didn't realize it at the time) seemed lacking any real interest other than the size of his wallet.    He did end up getting her number, which I was extremely proud of him for.  We had made a pact earlier in the night that if we did not get at least 1 number from this event, that we would both just call it a life and self proclaim ourselves as losers. 

                I got 2 numbers that night.  One surprisingly from my "neighbor" with the crazy eyed female friend, and my email buddy of course. 

                Linsey also did well, she ended up getting a number too, however, she did receive the title of "Life of the Party" that evening.  With us feeling good, confident and recapping the nights events, we drove away from the event trying to absorb and remember every little detail.

                Would I suggest a match.com subscriber to go to these events.  Yes.  Should you expect to meet your soul mate? No.  If anything, you are in an area with single people, mingling, making friends, enemies and even a potential drunken hook ups the night of.  Either way, it's a meat market free for all, and with the target on your back, you can either embrace the situation and make the best of it, or you can get someone drunk and hope they don't pull a coyote ugly on you in the morning.

 Next week - Chuck will be blogging about his version of this event...yay!

-Keeping it real



Shelby

Monday, June 25, 2012

Serial Dating 101


                Sometimes your friends know you better than you know yourself.  Instinctively, if you have had the same friends for several years like I have, you tend to be able to easily predict their next move in any given situation.  My friends are smart enough to know, that when it comes to my track record in the past 5 years of being single, being able to predict my next move when something doesn't go the way I planned, is expected.

                It has been a pretty shitty year in the love department for me, so when I finally had met someone who had actually sparked my interest, I found myself as about as excited as I would be if they were to invent a "New Car" scented douche.  Then as quickly as things went uphill in a positive way, they even more quickly went downhill faster than Amanda Byrnes career. 

                After being yet again at square one, I at least had one ace in the hole.  I had just ended my subscription to match.com, and had met several potential guys that I was interested in meeting, however just kept putting off meeting them because dating is exhausting and I was trying to find motivation.  Something such as getting my heart broken, not getting what I want, and or both motivates me.  When I told my friends about my newest failed attempt, they all knew that what was on the horizon for me, because like clockwork, I do it...Serial Date. 

                Serial dating is simple.  You line up as many dates in one week as you possibly can, with the hopes that you will meet someone who has the potential to make you forget about the previous person that dicked you over, or a great rebound at best.  For me, it is an avenue to keep myself busy and motivates me to not sit at home.  Being partially Italian, I am the type that if you fuck me over, chances are I'm going to never speak to you again, or completely forget about your existence on this planet.  If you go out on dates and don't find nothing useable, you still find a sense of accomplishment and pride in knowing that rather than sitting at home like a loser that is moping, you did at least try to put yourself out there.  I arranged 3 match.com dates for my week of serial dating.  After doing this, it helped me realize why I am happy to be single.



Date #1

                I had arranged to meet date number one at a cozy tapas restaurant in Shadyside.  (I would totally recommend it if I could remember the name of it).    I don't venture to Shadyside much, due to the lack of interest I have in people who tend to be on the snobbier side of life, so finding this restaurant was a bit of a challenge for me.  Being a seasoned pro at online dating, abide by golden rule #1: "Do not let a guy pick you up at your house the first time you meet him", so I told him I would meet him there. 

                Attempting to find parking on the main street of Shady Side is about as impossible as me winning a Nobel peace prize in Proctology, so when I found a spot on the main street, I took it as a sign that it was going to be a good date.  It wasn't until after I parked that I discovered the restaurant that we had agreed to meet at, was 8 blocks away.  Throw in a fast moving rain storm, and you have the beginning of the end of my luck.    I arrived 10 minutes late thanks to my fantastic parking job and ninja-like rain avoiding skills.  As I walked in, I saw one young man sitting at the bar and only assumed it was him, because after all of the connections I had made on match, the men started blending together and I forgot what some of them looked like.

                He was not a bad looking guy.  He had blonde hair and blue eyes, which really isn't my type (Unless your name happens to be or you look like Channing Tatum).  He was dressed very well wearing a purple sweater and khaki's so I had assumed that he was coming from work.  As we made our way to the table, I was slightly nervous considering I was stone cold sober, and I was on a mission to bounce back.  As we sat down, I immediately started engaging in conversation, hoping that it would get things rolling and lighten the awkwardness. 

                The conversation was very adult like involving alot of getting to know you general questions.  He reminded me of a tv character, however I couldn't put my finger on it.  I started thinking his demenor reminded me of Allen Thick's character from Growing Pains.  He was very mature, spoke well and seemed to be just an average normal guy.  For me though, it just wasn't enough, and I didn't really feel any spark.  He proceeded to tell me that he worked with inner city kids who had addictions.    Instantly it dawned on me who he reminded me of, the white version of Carlton from the Fresh Prince.  This is when I spaced out and started envisioning the look on these inner city kids faces when he walks in to the room for the first time, and started laughing in my mind.  I found it very hard to believe that teenage badasses (in their own minds) with addictions would give this straight laced polite guy any respect.  He had alot of enjoyment in what he did, and I had nothing but respect for him, however I would of loved to visit one of his sessions and be a fly on the wall..

                As the date went on, and the conversation started getting a little static and dry, I started to divert the conversation about "getting to know" each other, towards the annoying group of 6 women and 2 gay men sitting behind us being drunk and obnoxious.  I am convinced that thanks to Sex in the City, when large groups of 4 or more women get together and you throw in a couple of gay men , they instantly think their lives are the spin off series.  I enjoy girl talk, sharing sexual escapade stories and having the mindset of a female version of Family Guy's Quagmire, however, when you are on a first date with a guy you have no sexual or emotional feeling for, once the sex talk hits the table, well that shit is just cray...

                I can deal with a little boring, that is good for me considering my life is always chaotic and unorganized.  I can deal with acting prim and proper in public as long as behind closed doors I can be a closet pervert, but I cannot deal with a straight man's gay man's impression....especially when it is dead on.  For me, this is an instant lady wood killer that there is no coming back from.  As he did his impression of people at the table, I knew there wasn't going to be a second date, so I decided to make sure to save us both the trouble and aggravation of wasting each other's time.  Completely sober, and very tactfully, I explained to him that I have several gay friends, and his impression of gay men was very prejudicial  and I was very offended.  He apologized, asked for the check and we went our separate ways. 



Date #2

                I was quite excited for this one.  We had been talking since I had gotten on Match.com and had even upped the ante to exchanging real emails and a few phone calls here and there.  His emails were always off the wall and a little quirky, but I figured he was just more of an "in person" person.  I knew I was going to like him, considering he shared with me some of his favorite horror stories about online dating, so I knew he had a good grasp of it and was realistic.  Our big date consisted of meeting at a local coffee shop to keep it low key. 

                I wanted to make sure that I was on my A-game for this once, since there had been an excitement building up to meet him.  I spent an abnormal amount of time getting ready (like 1 hour to be exact) making sure that I had the perfect outfit, shoes etc.  I decided to wear my nicest pair of white pinstriped capris and a nice halter top that showed just the right amount of cleavage to make me look respectable and not trashy.  I felt I could of been the poster child for a Calvin Kline ad campaign. 

                I arrived 15 minutes early to the coffee shop.  It was 8pm, so the idea of coffee for me that late was not an option, unless I wanted to be up all night long.  I noticed a new drink that they were featuring that was similar to that of a chocolate milkshake, and immediately made my purchase.  As I walked outside to grab a table, I noticed an unfamiliar scene, a rain cloud heading in the direction of the coffee shop.  Trying to remain optimistic I sat outside and patiently awaited his arrival.  As I sipped on my coffee-less milkshake drink, I was unaware that it was leaking..all over my white pants.  With 5 minutes until his expected arrival to go, my drink managed to drip in 4 different locations on the front of my white capris, not to mention the even larger splash I acquired from running back in to the coffee shop on account of the torrential downpour that had started, so I went from Calvin Kline model to Quad Riding for Dummies, in the course of less than 10 minutes.  As I stared at the brown spots all over my white capris, I tried not to think of it as an omen and saw him make his way to the door.

                He was very good looking.  He was dressed as if he was going to a nice restaurant and not a coffee shop, but I didn't mind, I had figured he had just came from work.  He was Italian, nice build, great smile and had a natural dego tan, so naturally right off the bat I was intrigued.  I kept thinking that this was looking promising at face value, now let's see if he is just quirky or weird, so the conversation began.

                We were getting along very well, laughing, cracking jokes...he was actually very witty.  We spoke of topics about everything from how there should be a weight limit on yoga pants, to how there should be an age limit on all things affliction.  He was walking that fine line between cocky and cotnfident, which was fine because he could back himself up.  We also discussed different topics such as conspiracy theories, histories mysteries and even the topic of mail order Russian brides.  It probably sounds a little weird to chat about such stupid topics on a first date, but I find that more interesting and shows more character that the boring getting to know you questions. 

                We were exactly 1 hour in, and I felt like we could of chatted for several more  hours and lose track of time, boy was I wrong..Literally, in mid conversation about yet another random topic, he stops the conversation, looks at me and says, "Ok well I think I'm going to go now."  I can imagine the look on my face was the equivalent to that of a confused puppy that hasn't identified with the name you are calling it.  I gave him the same look my dog gives to me when he looks confused.  I looked at him and said, "Well this has to be the shortest coffee date in match.com history."  It was at that point, he seemed really repelled for whatever reason and was trying to now full blown practically run away from me.  I was so weirded out, I couldn't wrap my head around to what had just happened.  As he pulled away, I got in to my car, still dumbfounded.  I kept thinking to myself, "Was it the fact that I look like I rolled around in mud?  No, he told me I was very pretty.  Did my makeup run during the rain storm that made me look like the lost member of Kiss? No, make up is fine.  Do I have something in my teeth?  FUCK."  Completely forgetting that my drink had chunks of Oreo cookies in it, I managed to be so nervous and not pay attention, that I had black specks of cookies all over my pearly whites.  My teeth had looked like I had sprinkled them with pepper.  I don't know what I was more pissed off about, the fact that my teeth had looked like they had been seasoned with pepper, or that my date lasted as long as it took me to get ready.  Needless to say, I never heard from him again.



Date #3

                Still trying to overcome the embarrassment of the night before, it was now time for date #3.  We were meeting for dinner at chain restaurant and I was not excited at all.  At this point, I was exhausted, and reminded as to why I hate serial dating.  For the most part, I am a homebody Monday-Friday.  To get me out of the house during a week night, that is a rare occasion.  Being that it was a Friday night, I was still exhausted, unmotivated and just wanted to get this over with so that I could go back to being a hermit and alone. 

                Again not remembering what this guy looked like, I was greeted at the door of the restaurant by him.  It's amazing that they remember exactly what I look like, however I blame drinking for lack of memory.  He was decent, clean cut, wearing appropriate chain restaurant attire.  We sat down and he told me if I wanted to order an "alcoholic beverage" I could, to which I declined.  Right off the bat we started with the mundane "getting to know you" conversation. Right off the bat, I learn that he works for the same company as the gentlemen that I went out with the night prior, however it being a big company, there was little chance of them knowing one another. 

                He was extremely nervous and I could tell.  He was using his hands while talking alot, massive gestures you would expect from one of Italian decent, however I soon learned he wasn't Italian at all.  He also had a slight eye twitch, that I couldn't figure out if that was based off of the nervousness or if he had like turrett's or something.  I was very distracted by this twitch, and secretly counted and learned that his eye twitch was averaging about 8 per minute.  He seemed to have a very good heart, good morals, and was just an average all American guy.  I tried to see if I could use some "Shelby sarcasm" on him, to which it was him looking at me like the confused puppy this time around.   I knew I had to turn off the sarcasm and play nice, which instantly lead to nothing more than the friend zone.  With the hopes that he was getting it was heading this way, I proceeded to ask questions that you allergy do not ask someone  you are interested in, but questions that friends would ask each other.  "So why are you single? When was your last relationship?  What was she like?" and the ultimate "I'm not interested" question: "So how is match.com working out for you?"

                In a 15 minute conversation I had learned way too much already.  He only dates "older women" because he finds them to be more mature than girls "closer to his own age."  I politely asked him how old he was to which he repiled, "26."  Slightly irritated because I don't think any girl on this plant enjoys being referred to as an "older" woman, he then informed me that he has been on a ton of dates with girls, and after 1 date they never talk to him ever again and he just keeps striking out.  I felt really bad for him (believe it or not, I do have a heart), and instantly felt the need to share some "Shelby knowledge" with him.   My first topic of discussion was not to mention that you date "older" women.  I said to him, "I'm 29, yet you made me feel as if I am 62, by your comment.  You were a Sophomore when I was a Senior.  Where you are politically correct by calling me older, I do not need to be reminded of it."  My second piece of advice; "Be a little less vulnerable."   This poor guy wears his heart on his sleeve and it was very apparent.  I don't think he had an asshole bone in his body.  Arguments are welcome, however, I am not the type that likes to walk all over someone and know I can get away with it.  I need someone who is going to put up a fight and bite back.  This kid was a very big submissive who reminded me of the person that I was 5 years ago, and where my heart went out to him, I can see why possibly alot of the women he went out with didn't go out for a second date. 

                This is where it peaked.  I asked him when his last relationship was and he informed me that it was in High School.  Making him single for 8 years.  It explained why he was so nervous and the potential twitching...this poor guy just wants to find someone.  He then proceeded to tell me about his last relationship.  His last girlfriend (in hs) was a big emo/goth.  They were like night and day, that's why it worked, however a few months in to the relationship, he had noticed some "scars" on her arms.  When he approached her about it she flipped out on him and denied cutting herself.  Fast forward to Easter Sunday, where he decides to break up with her because she wants a promise ring, and he's not ready for it.  While she is standing in the kitchen, she jumped at the opportunity to cut the ham being that she was a pro at cutting things apparently.  With a knife in her hand, he decides to tell her that he needs some "space."  Clearly no one taught him to break up with an emo girl with a knife in her hand.  She proceeds to lunge at him with the knife, slashing his right thumb causing not only nerve damage, but to also turn him in to a permanent left handed user. 

                After thinking this was the end of the story, he goes on.  Apparently the "cut my boyfriend in the thumb," trick worked, because they decided to stay together.  Finally they break up for good in the early summer.  In a desperate attempt to get back at him, she decides to break in to his parents house (using the security code), and takes her new boyfriend of the moment up to his room, and starts having sex on his bed.  He then walks in to his room, only to see his newly ex girlfriend giving it to her new boyfriend reverse cowgirl. 

                It was right around this time that I had finished up my French Fries and I was sitting at the table absorbing all this information.  This kid was not only emotionally scarred from his previous relationship, he was in fact physically scarred.   

                Thinking that I had safely planted myself in the friend zone, he then hits me out of nowhere like a freight train with, "Well I think this date went very well, would you like to go out for a second?"  Fuck, what do I do now.  I feel bad for this guy because he has had quite a rough journey, yet there is no spark or romantic interest whatsoever.  If I never respond to this guy, he will feel as if he failed yet again.  I told him maybe we can hang out again, but I am extremely busy (which wasn't a lie) and I would let him know.  I never thought in 1 date I would hit a gray area...I think I'm going to suggest we go speed dating...



Keeping it real

-Shelby

Monday, June 18, 2012

Recent Craigslist Postings in Pittsburgh


It's been a while since I scoped out the Craigslist relationship section.  I decided to check it out to see what I had missed.  At one point, people were smart enough to post in the appropriate sections, however something in the tap water must of made Pittsburgh Craiglisters even dumber.  Here are some of my recent favorites.

Women for Men -

Are you man enough? - 28 (South hills)


Date: 2012-06-15, 6:52PM EDT



I am looking for a guy that will experiment with toys and strap ons etc
All must be safe. I'm horny right now so don't email me unless you're free n ready to meet

Dear Strap on Sally
           
            What the fuck is wrong with you? Were you just sitting around one night thinking to yourself,  "Well I'm sick of meeting guys with fetishes in bars, so Craigslist seems to be the next best solution, what a great idea!"  Since you are asking for a man to be a submissive, I highly doubt he is going to be man enough to demoralize himself to stick a butt plug up his ass, because apparently in your twisted version of reality, all straight alpha males love inserting things up their asses.  What I don't understand is, indeed the need for a strap on.  Are you a "one hole isn't enough" type?  Or have you so much fun in your life that your vagina is the equivalent of throwing a baseball in to a soccer net?    "All must be safe" huh?  Believe it or not, according to Google, and we all know that if it's on Google it must be true, there are actual documented cases of people choking to death via sex toys.   I hope with after each pathetic encounter you have with some sad desperate man, you wash your toys with soap, dip them in hydrochloric acid and crawl in to the fetal position crying yourself to sleep because of what your life has become...a craigslist posting for sex.  You make even a normal girls vagina want to throw up. 


Cinderella's Missing Slipper - 19 (Perrysville Pa)


Date: 2012-06-15, 3:57PM EDT




I am 19 years old and I am looking for a fairytale love. I love romance books and movies, love any type of music except rap, blues and jazz. I love to sit on the beach and just enjoy life. I love watching tv cuddled in someone's arms, going out with friends and sometimes skating and (doing guy things whether you believe it or not). I am sometimes shy but I open up quickly. My age limit right now is 25. I want a man who will tell me his dreams and listen to mine, and support me with everything I do. Someone to take care of me when I'm sick, and hold me close when I wake from a nightmare. Someone who loves taking walks on the beach and watching the sunset, and someone who's not afraid to mention my name in a conversation with his friends. I want someone who will look me in the eye and tell me things that I need to hear, even if I yell back at him and curse at him, because he knows that I need to hear those things. I want someone to catch and dry my tears away and do things that make me forget about what made me angry. And finally, I want someone who will love me enough that one day, I'll walk down the aisle and look him straight in the eyes, knowing that he's mine forever and no one else's. I want him to be brave enough to say the words "I do" and not just because he has to or because he's playing games with my heart. Could this be so hard to do, or is this asking for too much?


Dear "Taylor Swift didn't write that song about your life"
            Ah to be 19, stupid and naive again.  I can't wait to check back with you when your 26, after  having kissed several frogs, only for them not to turn in to real life versions of your prince charming, but more like a hobbit.  Clearly you are not cultured and cannot dance if you do not listen to rap, jazz or blues music, so don't expect any guy to escort you on to a dance floor.  Where you may find ballroom dancing romantic and think you are elegant, the reality is you probably look like your having a seizure and  the guy is only dancing with you to get entertainment.  Clearly you have been too busy fantasizing about your prince to realize that we live in Western PA and the closest quasi beach is 2 hours away. Unless you plan on moving to the territory of Erie or the land of the East Coast, the only sunset you will watch in similar setting will be in a sandbox at a playground.  From the list of requirements that you describe, it sounds to me that there is a reason that you are single.  You sound like an attention starved stage 5 clinger.  Cancel the lifetime movie network, stay away from any and all romantic comedies via movies and books, and stop wishing on stars and praying to your fairy godmother to send your love.  You describe your ideal "man" as a  hybrid of a fictional Disney Prince and a gay man, so to answer your question...YES you are asking for too much. 


Drink hangout tonight - 29 (Brookline)



Date: 2012-06-15, 7:05PM EDT



Hi
I am free tonight to drink hang out maybe fuck around.
Dear Pittsburgh's Finest -
            I am super excited that you didn't have the guts to post a picture of yourself along with this ad, it was smart of you not to out yourself as being an alcoholic whore that lacks any kind of self respect.  There is a huge difference between going out, getting drunk and by chance encounter fucking around, vs. holding up a sign in front of random strangers that points straight to your vagina that reads: Open for business, just buy me a drink."  I would expect this behavior from a naive 21-23 year old who is attention starved and has unknowingly self destructed all of her previous relationships, however the fact that you are the same age as me, makes me realize how uneducated you are on the opposite sex.  Clearly every interaction that you have had with men has resulted in disappointment and failure.  You have probably been ignored so many times after sleeping with a guy one time, that even your once reliable "go to penis" is ignoring your calls, which has now resulted in you sitting at home on a Friday night looking for drunken Craigslist wang.  I don't know about you, but I thoroughly enjoy getting drunk with people I have never met before that are completely aware of my loose morals that I so graciously broadcasted on the internet for the world to see.  I'm going to suggest to both the city and any alcoholic beverage company (your choice of course) to create a bronzed statue of you that is going to be placed at Google's Pittsburgh offices for your "Vaginal Contribution to Pittsburgh's Dumbest and Horniest Men." 

Men for Women

Kissing & more, but no sex - 29 (Cranberry)


Date: 2012-06-18, 12:36PM EDT


I'm a young reasonably cute skinny guy, looking for someone that's interested in a purely physical relationship that doesn't go all the way. Is anyone out there looking for the same?

Dear Mr. I Still Have my V Card -
                I find it slightly adorable that you are so naive to not only to female anatomy, but also that you unintentionally just told every female on craigslist that you are quite possibly a virgin.  It is rather impressive to  be a virgin near 30 so where I commend you for that, your stupidity in turning to craigslist to find a girl that is just as big of a prude as you makes me chuckle.  You will probably get a lot of responses from like 14 and 15 year olds lying about their age to you that are finding the pressures of today's society too much to deal with and are fearful of being called a slut, tramp, whore,  and 7-11 vagina . Considering you probably one of the only 29 year olds in the tri state area that still relates sexual activity to the "base system" , I'm sure you will find it very easy to communicate with these girls that are of jailbait status, I mean you don't need to understand the game of baseball to get the system.   If you are saving yourself for the right girl, that's fine, but stop being cheap and set up your Christian Singles profile rather than trolling for "pure" women on a site that is known for sexual encounters, fettishes, and downright weirdness.  Did you just discover your penis on your 29th birthday and aren't sure exactly what you are supposed to do with it?  Is it so small that it can be mistaken for the heel of a stiletto?  Do you have improper blood flow issues down there?  These are all scenarios that I'm thinking in an attempt to what your prerequisites for intentional blue balls are.

pantyhose/stockings woman - 25 (south of Pittsburgh)


Date: 2012-06-18, 11:42AM EDT


So I was searching through CL and came across an ad in another city posted by a woman dealing with pantyhose and stockings and it got me thinking if anyone would respond to an ad if I posted one. I am a 25 white male and i love a woman who wears pantyhose/stokings with a dress or skirt. I am recently single and looking to explore this as most women i have dated have not worn them. If you do please send me a message whether ur 19 or 49, single, divorced, married or pregnant. I would love to talk to you and see what you have to say, show or whatever and see where we can go from there. Please put "stockings" in the subject line. I do text so if you want to text, send me your number. Tell me a little about you such as your name and age and if you want, include a pic.

Dear Spawn of Santa
                The reason that I am convinced you are the son of Santa, is because you mention that you were searching other cities when you came across a similar post.  I would expect a man that shares the DNA with Kris Kringle, would enjoy getting a jumpstart on the holiday season by trying to find out where stockings are in other cities, only to later use it as a keyword search in your own city...Recently single, no kidding?  I can't imagine any girl that wouldn't enjoy wearing stockings during the abnormally warm spring and now summer that we are having, because nothing makes a lady feel sexier than getting ready to have sex and being covered in leg sweat with a side of swamp ass.  Or quite possibly in your case, from what it sounds like it probably takes a girl more time to get the pantyhose on than it does to get you off, which is not an even trade.  If a girl works in a professional setting or is going to a function that requires them that's one thing, but overall stockings are life's way of saying to females, "In addition to your period, this contraption was also invented to make you feel miserable being a female."    Unless you intend on finding a stripper that has an arsenal of them for her "performances,"  I highly doubt you will find any Pittsburgh girl willing to do this until the Fall/Winter months.  Maybe you should expand your craigslist search to Alaska, the North Pole (however be careful here because you may hit up your sister), or anywhere that has a year round climate of below 40 degrees.

You don't think I'm too rough, do you? (Pittsburgh)


Date: 2012-06-18, 12:10PM EDT


It's what you seek and it's what you have wanted. It's what gnawed at you when you were bored out of your mind during vanilla play with a sensitive guy. It's what you fantasize about when you close your eyes. So, here are a few questions for you for during and after we play from a man who will use you and control you the way you have always wished for:

Pulling your pretty hair is not abuse. It's just a friendly reminder.

My fingers groping under your clothes are not aggressive. They're just seeking out your softest parts.

My hand resting on your naked throat is not there for choking. It's just there to help you stay quiet and still.

I'm not going to spank your bare ass for punishment. The spanking you get is just to encourage a little discipline.

It's not about who's dominant and who's submissive. We just both know that sometimes a girl has to be treated a little rough.

Don't we?

If you have a sincere interest, if you are obedient and you are responsive, you must do this for yourself and reply with YES in the subject line.
Dear Donnie Dominant -
                I don't appreciate your assumptions.  At the moment, what I seek and what I want is a vodka red bull and pizza from Buzzi's, strike 1. Strike 2 comes in the form of my mind wandering from while receiving "Vanilla Play" from a sensitive guy.  Unbeknownst to you, I would never fool around with a sensitive guy in the first place, because I am not attracted to men need to use tampons more than I do for their bleeding non-existent vaginas.  Also, at any given minute even if  I am alone or with someone, the thought of my on stage encounter with Vanilla Ice pouring Jagger down my throat 2 years ago works better than any porno I have seen to date, and it wasn't even sexual.  Strike 3 is that you think I have to close my eyes while fantasizing.  Clearly you have been too worried about creating your "How to fail at convincing a woman that I'm not too rough" list, you have forgotten the art of "eye fucking".  I'm guessing from your pathetic attempt to "spin an argument" that you are probably a Lawyer, and not a very good one at that.  With that in mind, here is my rebuttal to your "list". 
1.  I actually quite enjoy my hair.  I don't pay money in the form of washing, coloring and cutting my hair for you to pull it.  If I wanted to get my hair pulled, it would be more gratifying for me to travel back in time to elementary school and pick a fight with another girl.  A smart dominant would at least have the courtesy to pull on only the gray ones, which I'm sure you do not take in to consideration.
2.  Groping is a strong word and should not be used in conjunction with the word soft.  That's like saying "Pretty Ugly".  I don't enjoy waking up to bruising, cramping and the feeling that your nipples are going to fall off after a night of "fun."  When done right, and you walk funny the next day, that's enough of a painful reminder.  Your argument does not stand a chance here, because i'm sure if I groped your balls very hard, you would be crying like a little bitch, and would more than likely go instantly "soft".
3.  I was unaware that for the past 29 years, if I do not wear a scarf 24-7 that my neck is in fact naked, so thanks for bringing this to my attention.  Rather than being a dick and "pretend" choking me, why not politely ask me to be quiet.   Obviously your mother did not teach you that you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar,  which your mommy issues are a completely different topic.  I would love to feel your manly hands on my neck, so that I can reciprocate the favor to you by placing my taser on your dick. 
4. Considering I was never spanked as a child and I turned out ok, I don't need discipline.  Now if I piss on your carpet, shit on your kitchen floor, or rip apart your furniture, then I have no problems allowing you to come at me with a spray bottle or a newspaper.  If parents are getting arrested for spanking their children, what makes you think spanking a grown adult out of "discipline" is a good idea when we are old enough to know the value of a backhand.   
5.  Sure, girls like it rough.  Sometimes we are in the mood to be thrown around like a rag doll and ravished, but you know what?  Other times, we like it passionate, sensual and normal.  Clearly your entire post is directed towards being a dominant, so I'm sure it would be a cold day in hell before you would let a girl put you in a pink tutu with a dog collar and make you walk around on your hands and knees.   I envision you as being the straight version of "Mr. Slave" from South Park, which is actually not as exciting as the cartoon. 

Keeping it real -
Shelby