That's What She Said

Picture from www.dumpaday.com. 

A little while ago, I mentioned a matchmaking attempt by one of my friends. I can officially write it off as an epic fail.  Why you ask?  Cue dream sequence here...

Picture it, Upstate New York, Spring 2013.  A gentleman whom we shall call *Tommy and I have been playing a mean game of cat and mouse.  Finally we decide to meet.  At this point, we have had one in-depth telephone conversation and a string of text messages that were, well, okay.   Lunch seemed like a safe bet.

I picked a hip, up and coming part of town for the event.  He arrived dressed in a black v-neck sweater, dress pants and casual shoes. I gave him a mental head nod for his style.  That was about as good as it got. 

Our original meeting place wasn't what he wanted, so we ventured out amongst the sea of restaurants to find a more suitable location.  Settling into a low-key Thai restaurant, we asked each other the customary questions: how has your day been, what are your plans for the evening, do you have any communicable diseases (okay, so maybe not the last one...gotta keep you on your toes).  All was well until he asked me about work. Somehow the conversation took a horrible turn for the worst:

Tommy:  Tell me about your job. 

Me:  Well, I work in *****.  It looks pretty small on the outside, but it's a lot bigger inside. That's because... 

Tommy:  That's what they say about me.

Me:  What? 

Tommy:  That's what they say about me.  Oh, that went over your head.  Let me tell you something about me, I make dirty jokes about 90% of the time. 

Me: Ummm...okay.  The company itself is multi-national, but it's not too big. 

Tommy: That's what she said. 

Seriously?!  There's no way we could ever date.  I couldn't even get through a conversation with him, let alone a relationship.  He was two seconds away from balancing a spoon on his nose.  Fortunately, neither one of us followed up after  lunch.  Perhaps my inability to participate in witty repartee was a turn off. 

An Offer You Can't Refuse...

For some strange reason, this story came to the forefront of my mind and of course I had to share it with all of you.  Back in my clubbing days (approximately 3.4 years ago) , I was out with a good friend of mine.  She looked absolutely stunning.  Her short pixie cut complimented her smooth skin and model-like frame perfectly.  I swear this girl could have stepped off of the cover of a magazine.

Apparently I wasn't the only person who thought so.  As we walked the familiar path from our illegally parked cars to our destination, a group of guys approached us.  Well, at least I thought it was us.  It was really just my friend.  The leader of the pack looked her square in the face and said, "You're so fine I want you to have my baby.  I'll give you the money right now and see you in nine months." Wait, what?

I'm sorry sir.  I think I misunderstood.  Did you really just proposition someone you don't even know to have a child with you simply based off of her looks?  What if she were a man-eating shape shifter?  Or a beautiful alien sent to procreate and take over the planet earth?  Or what about just good ol' fashioned crazy?  Now, I'm pretty sure this was just a conversation starter; however, where does one take a conversation from there?  The whole ordeal was pretty hilarious.  It got me thinking, what other outrageous pick up lines are going around these days?

Uptown Saturday Night

A couple of months ago, I had  reached a point in my singledom where the idea of meeting new people didn't seem horrible.  I had no plan in place; however, if someone intriguing came along then I would be open minded.  Browsing through Facebook one Saturday morning I saw that an acquaintance of mine was singing at a local event.  I saw the word "erotic" on the promotional material but thought nothing of it.

Later that day, one of my best friends asked me to come out for the performance.  I told her that I believed erotic poetry might have been involved.  She knew nothing about it.  I agreed to go.  As I was getting dressed, the thought occurred to me that this could be a chance for me to meet new people.  My level of excitement heightened. Decked out in black lace covered pumps, high waisted denim trousers, and plum lips, I was ready for action.

The venue was a coffee shop in an artsy part of town.  I immediately felt something strange in the atmosphere.  My friend discovered shortly before I came that this was, in fact, an erotic arts festival (confirmed by the many references to genitalia).  That wasn't it though - there was another vibe that I was getting.  There were men there, but I seemed to be attracting dreamy glares from women instead.  As I stared up at the rainbow colored flags dangling from the ceiling right above my head, I realized that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

A gentleman that can only be described as having grandfather-like qualities graced the microphone with his piece about the female anatomy aptly titled "It's Just P****".  After coaching each other through an overweight belly dancer's performance, the moment we had been waiting for finally came...our friend took the stage.  She was by far the STAR of the show.  We left immediately after.  On a positive note, I did receive some male attention.  A guy in peep-toe pumps said that he liked my lipstick!