Friday, July 11, 2014

Life Lessons I have learned on the bus

                   6 months ago, if you would of asked me what I thought about city transportation, I would of given some bitchy response that would have been perceived as it being beneath me in almost a mean girl sounding undertone.  I would of  said something along the lines of, “Why do I need to take the bus when I have a car?”  I even remember in my mid 20s getting in to a heated argument with a guy I was dating because he didn’t have a car and lived his life by a bus schedule, and at the time, I never really understood his point of view.
                When I obtained a job that landed me working right in the heart of downtown I was faced with the ultimate decision as to how badly I wanted the Pittsburgh Parking Authority to fuck me without at least offering to take me to dinner first.  I was torn between the choice of a purchasing a parking pass for an over-priced, over-crowded downtown garage that the parking spaces are not “one size fits all” and are full of Lexus and Audi driving pricks that feel they have a special sense of entitlement to park like a degenerate assholes and take up 2 spaces to “protect their investment,” or go completely out of my element and choose public mass transportation.  So I decided to choose the latter.
                When you are newbie to mass transit, the first step is to try to figure out your route.  This is quite a painful process especially when you have no clue what the hell you are doing, and the cities transit website is confusing as hell.  Trying to figure out the damn bus schedule for the city of Pittsburgh is about as difficult as trying to describe color to a blind man.  I even recruited Chuck’s help to try to help me crack the elusive bus code, and after a solid hour pow-wow that involved yelling, screaming, thoughts of sending a nasty email to the port authority, we figured out the best schedule that I could take.
                I remember my first bus ride was like the first day of Kinder garden.  I was overwhelmed with emotion.  What if the bus doesn't come?  What if I don’t get off at the right stop?  What if no one pulls the cord?  Will it still stop anyways?  I was on the verge of a panic  attack during my first ride.   I knew nothing of any rules, proper etiquette, or even carry on rules.  Was this similar to an airplane where I can only have 1 bag per person?  Will I get yelled at for having a lunch bag and purse?   
                After getting comfortable and observing my surroundings, I slowly began to blend in like a chameleon.  I discovered the hard way in the first month that you don’t talk to people nor make eye contact with anyone before 7:30am because everyone on the bus would much rather wear ear buds and facebook stalk than have a conversation with you.  I also learned that if your ear buds are up too loud, people will ask you to turn your “sinner” music down.  I also learned that apparently if the person sitting next to you does not like the scent of your body spray, they will in fact move to a different seat, stare at you and talk about you to the new person sitting next to them.

By the time spring came, I felt that considering I had been riding the same bus and started seeing some of the same faces during my commute that I had been grandfathered in to the route.  When I started to see the same people every morning, I began to make up nick names for them in my head, and when I would have a bad morning, I would feel a sense of belonging knowing that the likes of “Narcoleptic Ned” ,  “Jerry O’Connell Look-a-like and “Skinny Asian girl who’s body I want to swap” were all my bus peeps, even if they didn't know my name, we were a family.
Aside from my imaginary bus family, it is also a 25 min chance for me to gather my thoughts, get my mind awake and when that happens, I tend to get the most random thoughts and ideas.   Some days, when I am feeling confident that I am looking like a hot business women, I will stand up in the middle of the isle 1 stop prior to where I get off and visualize myself as if I am a hot pirate (Kinda like Penelope Cruz in the last Pirates of the Caribbean movie) and I have just commandeered this bus and I am demanding the driver to drop me off at my final destination so that I can go downtown to pillage.  Another time I had a random thought when I noticed there were 7 men standing in a row in the isle way.  All I kept thinking is how if the bus came to a sudden stop, it would go from “Typical Monday Morning Bus ride” to an Accidental Male orgy on wheels.  Then I had the pleasure to witness what may have made Guinness Book for “Longest attempt to take a  selfie and still fail” Timed at 27 Minutes. 10 attempts to which each picture looked exactly the same as the one before, 1 facebook post only to be removed to make 5 more attempts and re-post on Facebook.
                There are also some life lessons that cannot be observed, they have to be lived through….

Lesson #1:  The Bus Stops for No One
                Upon the beginning of spring, with the help of my steady income and personal stylist (Pintrest) I decided that at 31, I was going to start to be more fashionable.  With that in mind, I went on a $800 shopping spree to bulk up my closet with pretty much a diverse selection of Wedges, Blazers and colorful shirts.  I set a  goal to obtain every color of the rainbow in wedges, and managed to succeed with the likes of the internet and Ebay.  I have never been a stiletto girl ever.  I own 1 pair of heels that I would get made fun of for repeatedly because they were by far the most comfy but ugliest pair of heels on the planet, so I basically had to reteach myself how to walk in Wedges.  After about a week of twisting my ankle and blisters galore, I finally mastered the art like a champ and no longer looked like a baby giraffe trying to take its first steps. I was feeling good, confident and was on a total power trip, and would determine that If I could make the 1 block walk to the bus stop without twisting my ankle, it was going to be a good day.
                The bus was late as usual and it had begun to rain so I literally hurried on to the bus hoping that I didn't look like a drown rat with great looking wedges.  I placed my card  on the unit that registered fares and noticed that there were no seats available up front, so instantly I heard Outkast's song playing in my ever running mind instructed me to, “Ah HA hush that fuss, Shelby you need to move to the back of the bus”  so I did.     As I was heading towards the back I always try to get the seats that are at the very back at the bus, because they vibrate.  Yeah I said it…and now I will probably never get that seat again.  Those seats were taken by other like-minded women that day, and there was one seat available in the middle of a 3 seat configuration that had a pole attached to it.   There was a guy to the left who resembled a young Abraham Lincoln.  He had a long beard that had a hint of red and brown in it and was wearing a business suit.  If he had a Mr. Peanut hat, he would have been fully ready for a civil war re-enactment outing.  To the right was a mid 20’s casual dressed girl that was nose deep in her phone and ear deep in her headphones.  During this entire time, an elderly lady had gotten on behind me so the bus was at a compete stop and I had no problems getting to the back of the bus.  As I reached the top step of the back of the bus that lead to this 3 seat configuration, the bus jerked forward.  It was as if the bus driver had hit a hidden NOS switch and we were about to go head to head over a set of train tracks against Vin Diesel.  When the bus jerked forward, I lost my balance and headed straight for honest Abe.  When you are in a life and death situation such as this, it is human nature to instinctively put your hands out in order to prevent any direct confrontation ,however the only thing stopping me from supermanning this poor dude was the pole.  And that’s when it happened.  Both of my hands grabbed the pole and channeling my inner stripper, the momentum from the jerk of the bus caused me to spin around and I ended up reverse cowgirl in this poor guys lap.  As I looked down and saw his wedding ring, I felt even worse knowing that I accidentally had just given a married man a partial unintentional lap dance.  Face red as all hell, and the entire bus laughing hysterically at what had just happened, I kept apologizing and sat in my intended seat.  Not helping was realizing that my ear buds were up exceptionally loud and I was literally yelling my apology to this man, drawing attention to myself from now both the front and back of the bus.  I sat in silence for the next 25 minutes and literally ran off the bus as quick as I could.  I purposely took the earlier bus for a week to avoid seeing his guy.  Then exactly one week to the day in  the same seat was honest Abe.  I had been lucky enough to get the back seat, so I put my sunglasses on, ear buds in and let the bus ride me to work, only to open up my eyes, and see Abe staring at me with a shit eating grin on his face…

Lesson #2. Don’t Fall In Love with Strangers
                Every Friday is casual day, so therefore we can dress down.  Lately dressing down for me consisted of a consultation from Pintrest on what to wear with “Dark Jeans” and just do nothing with my hair.  I figure its Friday, I want to under achieve and it’s a short work day, so no need to go all out, so I took advantage of the opportunity to sleep in an extra 10 min and have a wild child hair day.
                The ride started out as normal as it does.  A few familiar faces getting on at the same stops, so naturally I would wish them a good morning in my head.  I have a few ballerinas that live in my neighborhood so I am always excited to see them get on the bus and visualize the all girly idea of what it would be like to be a ballerina, and there is always one particular stop that like 4 of them get on at.  As we pulled up to the stop, I had noticed the girls, but a newbie in  scrubs, which made total sense because it was near a hospital, but even as the bus approached and prior to it stopped I got a glips of him from afar and I was stunned.  He was by far the most gorgeous man I had ever seen, no joke.  He had dark hair and pericing blue eyes, that were even brighter conserving hew as wearing baby blue scribs.  I have only been hot and bothered 2 times in my life by a man.  The first was a gorgeous bartender that I met while traveling in NYC, and now this guy.  He got on the bus and sat 4 rows ahead of me, so all I could see was the back of his head.  Even the back of his head was beautiful.  And for the next 25 min I began to visualize our future together.  He adored me, as I did him.  He always put me first and swept me off of my feet.  He was fair and mature and was never greedy.  The way he proposed was right out of a movie.   Our wedding day was on a nice fall day.  The weather was not too hot and not to cold, it was a perfect day.  My girls were wearing red, and my dress had matching swavarski crystals to match the 5 carat ring that he put on my finger.  It was a parade of beautiful people, and we were surrounded by friends and family in an intimate ceremony in the rose garden.   Then I dreamt of our children and what they would look like.  They would have his eyes, my nose and they would be exceptionally gifted in sports and academics.  Ariel (our daughter) and our son (JR) were raised in home full of love and nurturing.  Then I fast forwarded to our Notebook ending where we were just so much in love that we died in each other’s arms at the ripe old age of 90.
                So finally after I pulled my head out of my ass and realized that my stop was coming up soon, I wanted to position myself in front of him so that I could get a better look at Mr. McDreamy’s face.  So I got up and I stood at the front of the bus, appearing as If I was getting off at the next stop.  I don’t know what came over me, considering it was 7:30 am and I had no Vodka in me, but I decided to tell him how gorgeous he was...which ended up being an awkward disaster.  He must had been working the night shift because he had his head down as if he was trying to sleep.  I started to wave at him to get his attention and tried to do it discreetly because I didn't want the entire bus to watch me profess my love to a total stranger, but he wasn't looking at me.  So I had to get closer to this beautiful creature, and it was similar to approaching a rouge tiger in the wild, you don’t know if it’s going to lick you or maul you.  So I finally get him to look up and holy mother of god his eyes, are a blue as the sea and they pierce right though me and it happen…I start to get awkward and can’t talk.  I say, “You are gorgeous” and he smiled, which his smile was perfect, literally perfect teeth, and he says, “I think you may need to get your eyes checked because I’m really not.”  I replied, “Hey normally I get tongue tied and I can’t talk to such gorgeous men and then things start coming out of my mouth I can’t control…”  and I kept going…total diarrhea spewing out of my mouth…I blacked out at the embarrassment of my inability to be able to talk to him like a normal human being but remember picking back up at, “So thank you for making my morning brighter.”  I should of ended all of it with Giggity because that’s how I felt.   In my black out I hadn't realized that there were 4 people observing this horrible attempt to talk to an attractive guy, and a woman who witnessed the whole thing said to him, “Awe that was cute.”  I didn't stick around, I literally ran off the bus as fast as I possibly could and didn't turn back.  I haven’t seen him since.  Chances are I probably scared him off of riding that bus, so I had to change my notebook ending to divorcing him in my mind.  It was very painful, and something I struggled with getting over.  We had to share custody of Ariel and Jr and all of the assets got split in half.  It was a very amicable divorce, and we remained civil towards each other for the kids sake. 

Lesson #3.  Don’t Drink and Ride the Bus
                It was 3:30 in the afternoon and I was on my way home after getting out of work early.  It was a beautiful sunny day, and I was lucky enough to grab the bus as I was getting to the stop so I didn't even have to wait.  It was like the Cosmo’s were saying, “Shelby we are going to get you home super early today.”    The bus was actually very low as far as occupancy went, maybe 20 people if that were on this bus, it was nice because I had pretty much the choice of any seat that I wanted, so I chose to sit about 4 rows from the front door and 1 row from the mid door considering the very back vibrating seats were fucking taken.  With my earbuds on, I drifted away in to the sounds of my Ipod, as I always do and un winded organizing my thoughts and running through my list of things I needed to do when I got home.    I remember my mom telling me she didn't think I  was a good idea to wear my head phones because I always need to be “aware of my surroundings” and I did what any daughter would do, laugh at her and ignore her warning. 
                We were mid route when I noticed the people in front of me looking behind me in disbelief as if something was going on.  Trying to process what exactly was happening, I turned around to see a drunk man punching the shit out of another man sitting next to him.   Guy “A” was literally beating the shit out of Guy “B”, and “B” was so drunk that he wasn't even fighting back.  They had been sitting together the whole time, and were even talking to one another when I first got on the bus, when I started to remember, and now “A” is taking his elbow to “B”s head.  I was close enough to all of this that if I would o f had a cardboard sign I could have been a ring girl.   As “A” is elbowing “B” in the head, he slurs, “I told him not to fuck with me” to which an off duty security guard steps in to observe what is taking place.  “B” is now out cold, slouched down in the seat, unconscious.    Sheer panic sets in and my adrenaline starts pumping.  I’m literally dumfounded and really hoping that this is a new version of an Impractical Jokers spin off, because this fight literally was contained in the seats they were sitting in.  There was no craziness across the bus, or innocent bystanders being pushed.  It happened in a 1ft by 1 ft space.  Just as quickly as the fight started, “A” stops, as if a switch had been shut off in his brain and he is just standing there looking around at everyone.  I had my sun glasses on, but I made eye contact with him once and I almost pissed my pants fearing that he was going to come at me next, and I have never hit anyone in my life, so I was questioning myself, “Have I really watched enough episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to be able to apply it to a real world situation?” 
                Fortunately and Ironically, the cosmos responded by the busses not running according to schedule and a bus that goes on my same route was directly behind the bus I was on, and made the executive decision to get on the second bus.  Only 4 of the 20 people got off this bus.  Myself, 2 others got on the second bus, and the 4th lady said – direct quote, “Screw this I’m walking, I don’t have time for these drunk n****a’s bullshit”.  Myself and the 2 others that got on the second bus had a pow wow and relived what had just happened, when without any warning, guy “A” tried to get on the bus that the 3 of us intentionally got on to get away from him.  So now guy “A” has followed us on to the second bus, and the bus driver is telling a guy that just beat the shit of out the guy sitting next to him that he can’t get on this particular bus.  I again begin to have another panic attack and try to rethink that scene from that one Sandra Bullock Movie where she talks about “T.I.P.S”  and as if a miracle happens, the guy turns around and leaves and begins to walk away.  So me and my 2 new friends begin to recap what just happnened and try to figure out 1. Why the remaining 15 ppl chose to stay on the bus while the paramedics were being called.  2. Did guy “A” really just walk away? Considering I would imagine fighting on a bus is a crime? 3.  Are we on a hidden camera show?  4.  That was by far the most isolated fight I have ever seen.  5.  What did “B” say that caused “A” to go bat shit crazy on them.    As my stop approached, and I bid my new friends goodbye, I left them with one last revelation, It was 3:30 in the afternoon and I had just witnessed my first city bus drunk fight.  They congratulated me, we high fived each other, I thanked the bus driver for rescuing me and laughed the entire way home.

Keeping It real

-Shelby

Thursday, April 10, 2014

To Catch A Player - Vol. 1


Ironically I know I said I was going to take a break from this, but there were just a series of hilarious unfortunate events that have occurred in the past couple of weeks that are absolutely blog worthy and needed to be shared.

                Now before all you “nice guys” start crying and need to change your tampons about how bias this blog post is going to be please note that:  I am not saying that all men are this tooltastic.  Yes, I know there are nice guys out there and no I don’t know why they get overlooked, these are just unfortunate examples of your kind that give you a bad rap.  If you have your own horror stores to share about women that you have encountered via online dating, I encourage you to get a hold of me so that I can share it with the rest of the world.  PLEASE, I’m begging you to share, so that I can stop listening to the whining of men that think I’m bias in the blog.  Show me that us women are just as dirty, scandalous and skeezy!

                One of the greatest things about hanging out with other single women, is that chances are now a days you and at least one of your friends are on the same dating website.  In my case I have 4 female friends that also use POF (3 of which I actually met on POF via hosting events)  so it’s nice to have people to compare horror stories with.  My friends and I have a great system of cross referencing (up until I hid my profile).  When we got a guy that we were considering going out with or talking to, we would send their profile to get their opinion.  It was at that point we could determine if any of us had previously chatted/gone out with that guy.  It was almost as if we were generating our own background checks for online dating and it worked out in our favor for a while, until unfortunately one slipped through the cracks.

 

The Blasian Asian

                I have nothing against men of Asian descent by any means necessary, I just have never really found them to be my cup of tea.  I have always leaned towards the tall, dark and handsome Greek/Italian looking boys.  Occasionally a Serbian or Pollock gets thrown in to that equation, however I have really only a couple of times ventured into the blonde realms. 

                I remembered on both accounts getting messaged by this guy who was half Asian, and you could tell simply because he had some of the facial characteristics as well as “woo” in his profile name.  I simply just did what most of the bitchy women on any dating website do when they are not interested in someone, and just ignore them completely.

                I remembered this one in particular because he fell in to my own created category of “Having a conversation with yourself” (he had messaged me multiple times to which I had never responded, so in theory he was pretty much having a conversation with himself. 

                So I get a text from one of my friends who tells me that she has a date with this guy from POF and she will keep me in the loop as to how it goes.  At this point, I didn’t even think to ask who he was and look up his name because the date was already happening with her, and the thought didn’t really cross my mind, because she was really good at “screening” people.  So when she came back and told me that the date was a disaster, of course I wanted every little detail as to what happened.  She described him as being great on paper: an American/Asian male who looked just like his profile pics, he was attractive (to her) in person, had a good job, no children, lived on his own and seemed like a stand-up guy.  Apparently when he opened his mouth is when things started going downhill.  They were at Dave and Busters walking around the game room and approached a Zombie Shooter Game.  The game had a warning advising pregnant women not play, to which he tried to be funny and made a comment about how she shouldn’t play the game then…  The first time it happened, she thought it was a little weird, but laughed it off (can I mention that I give my friend a lot of credit for not crushing his adams apple with her bare hands?)  but apparently the “jokes” kept coming…and after about the 5th or 6th pregnancy joke, my friend said something to him about it, to which he backed off, but really,  I don’t think anyone could of dug themselves out of that hole.

                After she gave me this recap I asked her if she was going out with him again, to which she responded “Probably not”.  I was shocked that there was even a “probably” in front of the not part, however again, she has exceptional patience and a higher threshold for BS than I do.  Life went on as usual. 

                Her and I got together over that next weekend and went to watch a friend of ours band perform at a local dive bar in the area.  Since we have become pretty close in the last couple of months, our filter levels about conversational topics have become non-existent, and a reoccurring conversation starter with her lately has been, “So I have a POF date this week.”  Thinking nothing of it, I ask the normal basics, Who, what, what, where and when and to my surprise she tells me that she is going out with the Asian guy again.  “The one that made the pregnancy jokes?  Several times?  That one?” I said to her with a confused look on my face, to which she replied, “Yes, that one.  I talked to him after and he said that he was very nervous and apologized and wanted to go out again.” 

                It was mid week and she texts me to tell me that the date went better this time around and she thought maybe she was really starting to like him.  Happy for her, I asked her to send me his screen name, I wanted to check this guy out for myself.   To my surprise, I knew who he was, considering he was Mr. “Let’s have a conversation with myself.”  I chuckled and told her that he had messaged me before, but what I didn’t realize that he had ironically actually sent me a message while her and I had been together that past weekend.  Being the message was sent between the disaster date and their second date, she really wasn’t upset or anything, I mean online dating has become so “On to the next one” that there really is no territorial right until it is discussed. 

                Then Friday Night happened.  Another friend and I were having a girls night slumber party, when I got a random text from the girl that had gone out with the Asian.  Apparently the Blazin Asian went stage 5 clinger on her in the course of 2 days.  Not only did he want to skip over the dating part and become an official couple (after 2 dates), he also wanted the two of them to move in together because he wanted to buy a house and didn’t want to do it until he was in a relationship   She had mentioned they were going out again over the weekend, to which I told her she will probably get a proposal, and started considering what color the bridesmaid dresses would be.  My advice to her was to run away as fast as she possibly could and not go out with him again.   I also said he needs to know his roll and slow the fuck down.  What made this even more interesting was when I showed my friend who’s house I was staying at his picture, she also confirmed that he had messaged her before as well.  So it was decided at this point that either he was 1. Extremely desperate for any kind of human interaction  2. A total douchebag  POF “player” who was doing a terrible job at it or 3. Had the worst ironic luck in Online Dating history .    The friend that had gone out with him assured me that she had the situation handled and we moved on from the convo.  That next night turned in to a random girls night and she informed me that they hadn’t spoken since the previous night and decided that she was more than likely going to move “on to the next one.”

                At 7:45 on Sunday AM apparently our 4th friend who we hadn’t seen in a while sent a mass text to everyone but my friend who had dated the Blazin Asian, about an encounter she had with a creepy guy on POF on Saturday night warning us not to talk to him if he messages us because he was asking her to send him “inappropriate” pictures.  Out of the thousands of men on this website living in the Tri-state area…I’m reading her text and the screename she sent is the Blazin Asian’s.  I seriously cannot even make this up if I tried.  Within 2 weeks, one guy had messaged all 4 of us within a 2 week window online, on Friday night he is professed his undying love for the girl he went out with twice and then turned around on Saturday and asked another friend of mine for naked pictures.

                Wrapping my head around this hilarious situation, I do feel bad for my friend who actually went out with this douchewad.  This guy is defiantly dirty.com worthy.  Being that the 4 of us look completely different (Hair, body types, ethic backgrounds), it is clear that this guy is not by any means “nondiscriminatory” he is truly  is terrible example for men anywhere.  We are smart enough to know that not all men are this scurvy, however ladies of Pittsburgh, please be on the lookout on POF for an Asian man with “Woo” in his name, he will literally love you long time, which in his mind is only for 48 hours.

 

Your Hair Smells Pretty

                In addition to an eventful girls night while discovering that the Blazin Asian was the World’s Worst online dater, one of my friends encountered the world’s “Worst way to pick up a sober girl”

                It was around midnight and me the girls decided to leave the bar that we had met at, and headed to another trendy place not too far away.  For whatever reason, it was not a happening night in the Robinson area, most of the bars were dead, so we found ourselves at a desolate Robinson bar at 12:30 on a Saturday night.  Being that we each had driven separately, we were not drinking, so we pretty much just went to our final destination to people watch and prove a point to ourselves that we were not old and could still stay out till 2 am. 

                When we walked in the door  it wasn’t wall to wall people, but a nice mix of 20 somethings – up to 50 somethings.  We made our way to the corner of the bar where one of the girls I was with was meeting up with some people she knew, so when we spotted them, we had a group of about 6 of us.  As we observed the dance floor, it was a very different extreme.  The dance floor had 2 age groups, 1. “I’m a 21 year old drunk girl I don’t give a fuck” and 2. “I’m a 40 year old drunk man alone at the bar about to channel my inner quagmire.” 

                As we watched this older gentleman prey on these young girls, his approach was really weak.  I believe he had drank himself in to social awkwardness.   He was “that guy” that stand really close to a girl on the dance floor but doesn’t dance, just stares and hovers?  Yeah..that.  So as we watched  every 21 year old on the dance floor who had a sober enough friend to know better drag her drunk friend away from him, eventually the dance floor became empty.   As all of this was going on to the right of us, to the left side we had one of our friends hitting on a married cougar who’s husband was literally sitting next to her.

                This woman knew exactly what she was doing, and it was questionable that this couple may have been swingers.  She looked 35, but you knew she was older.  She was wearing a body hugging white dress and had moves that would make Miley Cyrus put her damn tongue back in her mouth.  She was hot and knew it, and worked pretty much every guy in the room with her eyes.  She is a vision of what I hope to look like in 20+ years. 

                When the cougar was done dancing, she began chatting up our friend “Jersey”.  He was a friend of our friends who was a displaced Jersey guy and absolutely gorgeous.  All three of us girls  were trying desperately to keep his attention, and where it worked for a while, he would eventually divert conversation back to the cougar, so eventually we realized that he didn’t care that 3 single women were drooling over him and vying for his attention and just gave up and let the cougar win. 

                As we stood there and watched our hearts sank as he started flirting with the cougar, I had noticed out of the corner of my eye the drunk guy from the dance floor hovering behind us.  I knew what was going to happen next, it was just a question as to which one of us was going to get victimized.  As I watched him stare and observe, I warned my friend to the right of me and shifted that way hoping that I would be out of the line of sight…and that’s when it happened.

                Let me paint you a picture and put yourself in to my friends shoes.  You are leaning against a bar facing the bartenders, trying to get their attention for a drink.  The next thing you know, you feel a body press up against you from behind (like no space between you whatsoever), and hear a guy whisper in your ear as his Miller Light breath breezes across your cheek “Hi There”.  This guy broke every personal space rule every known to man.  Creeped out, my friend lied, grabbed a male friend that was with us, and lied her ass off about him being her boyfriend.  Did that stop him?  Not at all…he kept talking to her.  After a very brief conversation, he moved back in to his space behind us, and yet again observed who his next victim would be.  Approximately less than 3 minutes later, he did the same approach to our other friend…who was standing right next to the girl he had previously hit on.  He went nose to ear and body to body with her and I lost it.   My poor friend was terrified, so we grabbed her and went to the dance floor, but unfortunately…he followed.  So here we are, feeling like we are 25 again doing scare tactics to make guys go away.  (Dancing with each other, doing very dorky moves and rotating positions almost like playing musical creeper).  Nothing was working…he stood there and just stared at her like he was going to tie her up in a basement.  Somewhere out there, someone was looking out for her.  As we ran away, a bouncer grabbed him and kicked him out.  I didn’t think you could kick someone out of a bar for being “creepy” but apparently this guy did. 

                So I’m sure you’re wondering about the cougar and her husband?  We after she lost interest in Jersey, her husband went to the bathroom, and she had already moved on to another guy who happened to be sitting on the other side of her.  So to paint you a picture it went

 

          X                             X                             X

                                                Other Guy                      Cougar             Cougars Husband

While her husband was in the bathroom, her and her new friend engaged in a very flirty conversation that landed the guy having his hand on the small of her back.  It was funny how once her husband turned the corner and was in the line of sight again, his hand disappeared back to his own area?  Weird.  How is it that I can’t even get a second date with a guy, but this bitch has 3 guys stumbling over her engaging in some sort of weird live episode of “Desperate Housewives of Robinson?”  

As we all left, Jersey decided to give one last stitch effort in whatever game she was playing.   We gave him the 5 minute friend rule (where you wait outside for 5 minutes and if they don’t show up they are on their own).  He never came out.  We are not sure what happened to him, if he made it out alive or if the cougar ripped him to shreds.  So I shall dedicate the ending of this blog to our new friend Jersey – the guy that chose to go for a 3 way with a cougar and her husband vs. his choice of 3 single ladies that are all tigers in the sack.  Hope to see you in the jungle again someday!
Keeping it real –
Shelby

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

The Day Plenty of Fish Broke Up with Me


                A couple of  Wednesday’s ago was like any other day.  My alarm went off at 6:30 am,  half asleep I grabbed for my phone, got out of bed, tripped over about 5 different things on the floor while I waited for my contacts to catch up with the rest of my body and headed for the shower.  During this self-created bedroom Double Dare-like obstacle course, like a creature of habit, the first thing I check on my phone is my POF inbox.             
              
                 I had been having issues with my profile for a couple of weeks.  I would check it before bed and everything was fine, but at some point in the night my profile would be switched from active to hidden, causing me to not show up in searches for certain periods of time.  This happened for about 2 weeks, so every time I would complete the obstacle course, I would have to reactivate my profile.  I really didn’t sweat it, I just figured it was a glitch in the system, and a couple of my friends suggested that I change my password, but I figured it would work itself out considered I had this user name for 7 years, it was nostalgic to me.
              
                 So you can imagine my confusion at 6:32 am when I’m trying to log in to my account, and it’s not recognizing me as a user.  I was as confused as a bi-sexual at a transgender convention.  After several attempts, I tried the “forget your password” function, thinking there was a major glitch now.   I plugged in my email address and I still didn’t exist…WTF.  In a last stitch attempt to figure out what the hell was going on, I texted Chuck and asked him to find me, to which he informed me that I did not in fact exist. ..and that’s when I had an epiphany:  Someone had reported me and my profile had been deleted from POF. 
               
                  I had heard stories from people that actually knew that this had happened to before, but I didn’t believe it.  I put it at the level with a  Lockness monster or Bigfoot sighting; it was only a myth; and this would never happened to me?  I’m like an internet superhero, saving people from one douchebag at a time.  How dare someone report me for “inappropriate conduct” when they haven’t even seen me drunk. So I started thinking back to the past couple of weeks, and  I had a feeling I knew who it was.  I had only really pissed off one guy within the past two weeks that was capable of doing something so childish; and in my defense, he wouldn’t take No for an answer and believe it or not I was very polite about letting him down easy at first, but he kept going on and on and I had to bring out the big guns on him.
             
                  I don’t think it was the action of getting deleted that hurt my feelings, it was the way POF goes about doing it that hurt my feelings the most.  They way that POF broke up with me reminded me of both of the previous relationships I have recently been in within the past year.; 2 men and one website basically break up with me by  pretending that I don’t exist and just straight up ignore my existence on this planet.  Yay!  There was no email, no phone call, no closure what so ever as to why I was denied access to my account of 7 years.  After 7 years, POF made me feel I was walking around with a Scarlett P on my chest – P for pervert. 
               
                 I decided to put my big girl pants on, suck it up and reclaim my former profile to its righteous status.  It wasn’t until I got about half way in that I realized I had had a 2nd account from when I had been blogging about the men in different cities and it was game on.  It was the exact same profile as before (with my infamous “Do not message me if” rules) all it needed was a couple of pictures and I was ready to go!  So with a new outlook on how the day had begun, I updated my profile and continued my day as planned. 
               
                As I stepped off the bus to walk to my destination, I felt my phone vibrate.  As I grabbed for it to see what was going on, I had received 30 new POF messages within the duration of the 25 min bus ride.  Apparently, men thought that I was a new user and once again my inbox had been blowing up.  With my former profile, things had been a tad slow; I had either ignored or talked to most of the men on the site already.  But with the name change (Same pictures, mind you)  I was like the equivalent of a big juicy hamburger to a person who is cleansing. 
                    As usual POF did not fail me.  I got a lot of men that forgot I had ignored them before, a few guys 
that recognized me and asked me what had happened, and of course the blog worthy ones.  Apparently If I ever
 find myself in a position where I need good material, all I need to do is just create a new profile.  Fast forward a 
couple of weeks later and it turns out its been a rough couple of weeks in the dating department. Sadly the "on to the next one" mentally is becoming a thing of the present for me. In three weeks I had met 3 guys, all to which I felt had great potential. Great convos, one was even an old college crush who I reconnected with, another who I
 felt like was the male  version of me, and the other was just absolutely adorable in the conversation.   Don't let me fool you though, it is in my nature I do what I do best and I managed to send  2 of them running for the hills in
 the same night thanks to a vodka induced haze I put myself in to at a black tie event (to which both of them
 ironically were in attendance)  The third and newest blow came by the adorable one who was by far the most good looking guy who had ever been dumb enough to go out with me. I knew he was too good to be true considering he disappeared very quickly after the date. So three disappearing acts in 2 weeks. That has to be some sort of record right?
                     Eventually you feel defeated, failure is the result, not the option and you start taking it to heart. I
 am clearly aware that I am not perfect, however my uncanny ability to repel penis has become so unintentional
 now that I can’t even control it. Striking out is one thing but I am to the point where I'm sitting on the bench at a kindergarten t-ball tournament. I think my profile getting deleted was a sign by the Internet gods telling me it's
 time to quit online dating for a while. It only took me 7 years to realize it, but I’m starting to think online dating isn’t for me. My suspicions where  correct I had a  hormonal melt down Chuck and he told me to take a break. So unless life gets interesting or people submit their horror stories directly, unfortunately this may be the last blog for a while. 
                    Fighting to get back to my old self and mend my broken heart took a lot out of me. I really don't have much fight left in me when it comes to rejection anymore. I have always been the type of person that I'd much 
rather avoid a conflict then deal with it  head on. So if I have to remove myself from online dating to prevent myself from meeting people that I'm to get rejected by anyways, might as well do it. I probably sound like a huge 
Debbie downer right now , and it's just a reality of being single.

My friend Lauren and I were talking one day, (she is also on POF) and we were comparing notes. She wasn’t
 having much luck on there, and asked me what my secret.  It got me thinking to do some research on my own 
stats, and this is what I came up with in 7 years of online dating (these numbers are so not accurate I have a
 feeling…there has to be more)
47 phone numbers I have acquired from Pof alone
20 from other websites/apps

Of those numbers:

22 dates (that I can remember, considering the contacts in my phone that have not transferred with new hardware, and that really does seem low considering I was going on like 3 dates a week at one point) 
Of those dates: 1 year long relationship that was derived from match.com 

So yet another argument in favor of me canceling my account.  In 7 years I ended up with 1 relationship that started like a fairy tale and ended like a horror story
 
So in conclusion, I would now like to highlight some new messages that I have received this time around.  Some are just conversations, others I put my 2 cents in.  I will only blog now if things happen to me in real life, so
 chances are you won’t be hearing from me for a while  Who knows, I may get bored in a week and rejoin or maybe in 6 months, the point is, if you are like me and feel the defeat, know that at least you are not alone…You can join myself and apparently these people who clearly should not be online dating…

Hungry?  Why Wait…




Dear Forever Single:
                Thank you for covering all of the bases here in your initial message by telling me that you would kiss ALL of my lips.  This poetic description reminds me of an un-recorded Boys II Men song   The profile headline really says it all.   I really am starting to think that you are the poster child for being a walking version of  “emotionally retarded but all  vagina’s sound neat.”   You really are a lady killer aren’t you?  Because you literally just killed any desire that I have to get myself off later.  I feel like the only lips that you will be coming in contact with for the rest of your life are your own and the only thing you will be eating is dinner for 1 at 4pm at Denny’s.The lol after your eating comment really changed my mind about you though.  We all know that when you add LOL to the end of every sentence that it instantly turns funny right?  Just like this:  You are truly an asshat lol.  I really hope that you get your tongue stuck in a light socket lol.   Please move to Antartica lol. 

You can’t fix stupid…



Dear Smarty Pants
                It’s very clear your level of intelligence here and you have taken stupidity to a whole new level. Unless you have the ability to telepathically  send messages via the internet with your mind…You are a member of this site.  I’m not sure how drunk or stoned you were when you first “didn’t become a member” but you know that part when you had to fill out personal information, upload a picture and click “Yes” and agree to terms and conditions?  Yeah, that magically gave you member status jackass.  So the fact that you want to be instant facebook friends, pretty much showed you were trying to beat the house that is showing a pair of aces, and you are holding a 9-high.  To add insult to injury, even if I wanted to be your facebook friend, you didn’t even list your  full name in the message, so I couldn’t find you if I tried.  I would avoid any jobs that require any kind of technological/internet based experience, because I feel like if I told you to shut off the internet, you would spend a very long time looking for its off switch.    


This one came directly from a friend:







Her and I’s convo as this is taking place…






Horny and Confused

3/14/2014 4:08:39 PM
You wanna make $2504


3/14/2014 4:09:37 PM
So exactly 2504? Is the extra $4 overtime?


I meant $250 lol

3/14/2014 4:11:55 PM
Whoa. That's a bad extra digit to add...what does this consists


Just sex both oral and regular. 
Is that ok or you just wanna do the head for $200


3/14/2014 4:22:46 PM
Is this a joke? Am I being punked? Is Ashton going to jump out of the cubicle next to me?

No lol. Look i ain't rich. $350 Is the highest i can go.

Well???
All i want is a blowjob


Dear Daddy Blowbucks:
            I can look past the fact that you are trying to get a BJ on a dating website.  I think it’s really cute that you like to negotiate.  What I am super pissed off is the fact that you think I am only worth $350!?!?!? I did some price comparison and asked a couple of friends what as well as some C-squad strippers and actual East Liberty Prostitutes and they all agreed that you are trying to low ball me.  Clearly you know nothing about acquiring the services of prostitute.  I would really love to know how this came about.  Did you decide to wake up one morning with the genius idea to turn to POF for your Blow Job needs?  Was Craigslist just not working out for you?  Did you “blow” it with all your other options?  You clearly “suck” at this, considering you are just making up your own prices.  Listen my brother from another mother, maybe you should start small with some crack whore that’s looking for a drug exchange…If you are looking for Pittsburgh’s very own version of the Bunny Ranch, shall I suggest you start on the North Side?  Nothing says good oral like a good toothless crack whore right?



Before I leave you for a while on a more serious note:  


For those of you that don't know this is Chuck, my best friend.  Why is in he in a dress?  He is raising money for the Mario Lemiuex Foundation/Pittsburgh Marathon.  After he hit a particular goal, he agreed to wear this hideous thing to a Pen's Game.  I am asking all of you to please help him reach his goal of 5k by donating something.  Even if its $20 just to support this great cause.  If he hits his goal, he is considering dressing up like Wonder Woman.  Who wouldn't want to see this.  I will also consider going out with someone of your choice, if you donate $20 or more to this great cause.  Set me up with the worst of the worst, a $20 donation gets you the ability to set me up with 1 person of your choice (within the Pittsburgh Area).  Here is the link to donate...Click Here


Keepin it Real...Until we meet again...


Shelby

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Lonely Heart’s Club

With one of the darkest days of any single person’s life approaching (Valentine’s Day), I felt that it was only proper to blog about how terrible it is to be single 1. Near, around, and on Valentine’s Day; 2. In general.  Now if you are single reading this, you already know.  You have been haunted by the larger than life stuffed animals that fill shelves upon shelves at the grocery store, the cliche jewelry commercials that no matter what station you are on, you can’t hide from, and of course the day to day struggle to not self-indulge in chocolate covered everything because you know that you will not be receiving it as a gift and only as a gift to your ever growing waistline. 

For those of you that know me (which that number has dwindled significantly within the past year)  I began hosting singles events through Plenty of Fish’s website.  My events usually target 25-45 year old men and females and are hosted somewhere in the South Side. The first two were total sausage fests.  My intentions were not in anyway focused on me finding someone.  While I was still struggling to get over my ex, I actually began dating someone new, but unfortunately he was not the solution I was looking for to cure my broken heart, and after that experience, I literally had given up for the time being on me finding love again.  My primary focus was to help others possibly experience one of the greatest feelings in the whole wide world.  Some people go their whole lives without feeling it.  Trying to revive the optimistic Disney princess side of me that had been buried by evil and poison, I set my sights on helping other people get their happy endings.   I will say to the people that did have the balls to show up and really put themselves out there, I have nothing but high levels of respect for them, which is why there will never be a blog about what goes on at these events, because after seeing people who are similar to me and my situation (lack of single friends, had epic revelations in their lives, got their hearts ripped out, etc), I now know that where there is a large group of people entering the lonely hearts club, I am not alone.

After reconnecting with an old friend and telling him the rollercoaster events of my life in the past year, he really put things in to perspective.  He said to me, “Shelby, you are fortunate though... you got to figure it all out... and you got to basically hit the reset button.”  And it was so true.  In 1 year, I have acquired an entirely new group of friends, been through mental hell and back, and eliminated all negative variables in my life.  I now understand that I am exactly where I am meant to be.  

Unfortunately though, with hosting events comes great stupidity and great unwanted attention.  When you host a party on POF and you get a certain number of RSVP’s, you then have the ability to mass message people that are within 10k of your event…or so they claim.  Turns out, that it doesn’t stop at 10k, its more like 100k.  So after my first event, I found myself messaging everyone on the website, literally from Wheeling, WV to St. Clairsville, OH within a 25-45 age range.  So in summary, I basically mass emailed roughly thousands of people about this event. 

By doing this, unfortunately you see the good, bad and ugly side of online dating.  Some men, see a message from you and automatically think that you are messaging them to get to know them, which in return results in a lot of messages back, or straight up messages asking you out on dates.  Others, call you a psycho and ask you to stop sending things to them.  You also get really dumb questions like “Are you going to be at this party?” and “Are you single?”  Within minutes of sending this message my inbox blew up.  I literally  had 200 new messages within a few hours so as far as my friends telling me that I need to “Put myself out there” yeah…go hard or go home right?  Eventually you get so annoyed, and so bothered by the messages you just feel the need to respond back.I share with you now, some of my favorite messages that I have received/responded to while trying to host singles events:

Mr. I Don’t Have a Clue:


Clearly common sense is not a strong point with this one.  That and the fact that he is 23.  Notice how I try to divert the conversation to reflect that “Hey I wasn’t talking to you, I was inviting you to a party so you could meet someone who is so very not me,” but he didn’t get the hint.  His persistence is more annoying than anything, considering he tries to continue the conversation with, “So are you single?”  No, I’m just on a dating website because I enjoy stalking people from afar. I have no life so my other hobbies include printing inspirational cat pictures and framing them and recreating a life size sex doll of Justin Timberlake,  but I’m not at all single, being on a dating website, where it clearly states that I am looking to date someone in my profile.  Dinner with you scares me, considering I’m worried that you will ask me dumb questions through the entire dinner like, “How do I use a fork?”, “Did you drive here?” or “So, You like Food right?.” 


Mr. I Can’t Handle Rejection:


 This is one of my favorite ones simply because it showed 50 shades of fucking crazy.  You see leading up to this conversation, the gentleman asked me out, to which I politely (yes, seriously) declined due to 1. I was not attracted to him and 2. He lived out of state.  With that being said, he began to bombard me with messages as to why I wouldn’t give him a chance.  After ignoring him for a few weeks, my mass email about the party went out and the above was the result.  Just the simple fact that he called me a douchebag, makes me laugh so hard that I can’t even write a witty response.  It’s pathetic enough that he couldn’t handle rejection by a girl that he had never met before, but the fact that he wanted to engage in an internet argument was about as useless as a priest judging a bikini contest.  I think you my friend are the one that should be endorsed by Summer’s Eve.  Can you tell them to hurry up and make a “New Car” scented douche already?  Thanks!



Rub-a-dub-dub




 So yeah, Rub Powers eh?  I can honestly say that this is a whole new world for me.  Is this the equivalent of dry humping?  I was unaware that my vagina had special powers?    I mean I can’t fly because I have one, I do not have the ability to read people’s minds, and I certainly do not have the ability to cast a love spell over anybody, so I’m not really sure where you are going with this Mr. Bump and Grind.   I mean the only thing that is special about it is that it can bleed for 5-7 days and not die?  Does that make me immortal?  Do you think that you are a vagician?  Because the only magic you will be making involves your winky and your pinky. I’m starting to question that you may be a love child of either  Austin Powers or Glenn Quagmire, either way unlike them, you will more than likely be spending your Valentine’s Day alone…



Short, Sweet and To the Point


 There is no need for an explanation – Shelby -1; Every douchebag that puts up a shirtless pic -0.  I promise to all my readers that I will continue to keep fighting the shirtless mirror bathroom pic/duckface war…one picture at a time. 




Learn When to Stop…Please



 You would think that when someone says to you, “I appreciate your interest in me, however to be brutally honest I am not looking to date right now.  I am focusing on hosting events and helping others find happiness” that that would be a cue to walk away.  Not Captain Crabs, he has to take it to the next level of creepiness.  With his age set as 32 and his face looking about 16, the thought of him asking me about my sex life made me feel like a pedophile or even worse, a Beiber fan, I had hoped that “Have A Nice Day J” would be a great cut off…nope.  He had to take it even further in to the realms of total creeper.  Calling someone gorgeous is one thing, however referring to a pair of boobs in a singular term is a bit confusing.  If you are going to complement my “breast” could you please be a bit specific?  Are you a fan of Amelia (Left) or Gretchen (Right)?  Which one do you feel is the perky cheerlearder vs. the bookworm?  You must be a virgin because clearly if you think that it is a choice to “sport” something that is permanently attached to your chest and requires surgery for removal.  Oh and by the way you can take your J and…well never mind, you may get a hard on talking about its upper lip…




No Vacancy


Happy Valentine's Day/Singles Appreciation Awareness Day Everyone!  If you are single, living in the Pittsburgh area and want to attend my Vday Singles Party please email playettechic@gmail.com for more information!


Keepin It Real


Shelby