Red Flags

I ignore red flags MOST of the time.

Some guy calls his ex-wife a narcissist and I look the other way.

Another guy tells me I have a lazy eye over drinks and I laugh and make excuses.

So when the newest guy made a joke about my sister and I in a porno together, I ALMOST let it slide.

ALMOST.

But I didn’t.

I called him out on it.

I’m not sure why I didn’t let it slide.

Actually I do.

I made excuses for one guy’s behavior not too long ago and he lived up to my (ignored) first impression of him.

So this time I didn’t want to ignore it.

Yeah, I GET THAT IT’S A FUCKING JOKE.

BUT IT’S A DISGUSTING ONE!

Who, when trying to put their best foot forward upon meeting a new woman, makes a porn joke about her and her sister?

Who makes porn jokes BEFORE the first date?

A man with his mind in the gutter?

A man with no manners?

A man who clearly is suffering from a lack of social skills?

Regardless of WHY he did it, the end result is the same.

The fucking hammer has fallen and YOU HAVE BEEN VOTED OFF THE ISLAND!

Barbara would be so proud. . .

Poly or no?

I have a friend.

We’ll call him ‘Sam.’

Sam wants me to set him up with all the single women I know.

The thing is, Sam is poly.

At least Sam claims he’s poly.

[I personally think he’s flexible, for the right woman.]

All the women I know are monogamous.

Definitely NOT poly.

Anyway, Sam is upset that I offered to set up my friend Rob with two of my single girlfriends.

Beyond the fact that Sam is 10+ years older than Rob and simply less appropriate for the 30 – 40 year old women I know, Sam is POLY.

He likes to point out that I don’t believe he’s poly.

I like to point out that it doesn’t matter what I BELIEVE, it matters what HE BELIEVES.

So no, I’m not going to set up a monogamous woman with a poly man.

And, just so you know, I think it’s a wee bit deceptive that Sam’s online dating profiles don’t specify that he’s poly.

Now.

I COULD BE COMPLETELY WRONG ABOUT THIS, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that his lack of success in the dating pool could have something to do with the fact that he’s fishing in the wrong fucking pool with the wrong fucking bait.

Just saying.

When you start hitting on friends

He’s single.

I’m single.

We’ve known each other for decades.

He’s a decent guy.

I’m a decent (if slightly naughty) gal.

So when I found out he’s single, I took a leap of faith.

You see, the guys I meet online who are good guys are few and far between.

The Swede and basically NO ONE ELSE.

So even though I’ve been friends FOREVER with this guy I thought, “Why not?”

So I told him when he’s in a good place for dating, we should go on a date.

I suspect he will not take me up on my offer.

And that’s okay.

Going from vanilla relationships to me is like switching from the kiddie roller coaster to the Sky Scream – it’s a real mind fuck and you just may puke but it’s also quite exhilarating!

So I put it out there in the universe.

And even if he isn’t the man for me, someone decent will come along.

I’m keeping my eyeballs peeled for him.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I know I said I would STAY AWAY from policemen.

My ex-husband was a police officer, after all, and look how that turned out.

It’s not that I dislike policemen.

Not at all.

I admire the work that they do – keeping the peace and maintaining law in society.

Every day, they see people having the WORST day of their lives, which can’t be easy.

You couldn’t pay me enough money to do what they do.

Thank you, I’ll keep on planning events and balancing the budget.

Which is why I’m shocked that I like Chad.

Chad is a DOUBLE WHAMMY.

He’s a cop and was in the military.

The Air Force to be exact.

Actually, he was a policeman in the Air Force.

I find this combination of careers oddly fascinating.

Lord knows I have loved me some military men in the past (you know who you are).

And I do know some very upstanding police officers (Hi Jon).

But usually, I hear the word “police” and I run the other way.

This time around, none of my warning bells were going off.

Chad sent me a picture of himself, which looked oddly familiar.

A man, dressed in blue, with a navy ball cap on. . .

Looks like an academy photo, smells like an academy photo, MUST BE AN ACADEMY PHOTO.

I freaked out (a little) and said, “You’re not a cop.”

He replied with the EYES WIDE OPEN emoticon.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Confidence

He has confidence, I’ll give him that.

I was texting with a new man when I decided to send him a full length picture of me.

Just so that he could see what I mean when I say I’m a curvy girl.

Thick.

It’s used as a catch all phrase for women size 10+ and there’s a lot of diversity so in order to make sure we’re not wasting each other’s time, I usually send my photo to the men before I go out with them.

His response?

“I’m going to be making love to you a lot. . . I’m just gonna be upfront with you”

Oh my!

My initial reaction was, “Yeah, you wish!” followed swiftly by, “Please!”

It’s simply the horn dog in me coming out.

It’s not that I like handsome strangers telling me they want to fuck me a lot.

Wait.

What am I saying?

It’s EXACTLY that!

Who wouldn’t LOVE to hear those words said to them?

Sure, it’d be nice if I knew him better.

And felt more attracted to him.

But I appreciated his enthusiasm.

We went out and he continues to say things to me.

Things that can’t be repeated on this blog involving his fantasy which included the backseat of a car, his tongue, and my very appreciative flesh.

Save

Save

Rude Boy

So there we are.

In the parking lot of The Jack Rose.

We met for drinks and spent about an hour chatting.

We walked to my car and he kissed me goodnight.

It wasn’t bad. Not fabulous, but it also didn’t suck.

I turned around to get in my car and that’s when it happened.

He punched me in my ass.

“What was that for?” I asked, a little freaked out.

“Smack dat ass,” he replied, telling me nothing except that he was a Rude Boy.

I barely know him.

He is not INVITED to smack my ass, let alone punch it.

I was offended.

I have a feeling he wanted to SLAP it but then felt awkward about it but didn’t manage to stop himself in time.

Hence, THE PUNCH.

I’m telling you this because ONCE AGAIN, I found myself in a situation where I am forced to remain composed when inside I’m raging.

You don’t touch me with WITHOUT my permission.

One drink, an hour of conversation, and one passably decent kiss DOES NOT MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO SMACK ME.

Just to cap things off, I went home and climbed in bed.

He sent me a text:

“Take off you pants right now”

It’s gonna be a cold day in hell before I take my pants off for you.

Ironically, he’s a policeman in the Air Force, so he should know all about crossing the boundary between acceptable behavior and sexual battery.

Rude Boy.

What I hope men think about when they’re having sex with me

Sometimes I wonder if the inside of a man’s brain sounds like the lonely buzz of a fluorescent light bulb.

In reality I suspect their brain cells are working like pistons, constantly firing.

Given that I have my own internal dialogue during sex, I can’t help but wonder:

What would theirs be?

I’m sure it must be more sophisticated than just “boobs, Boobs, BOOBS!”

Sex is one of life’s simpler moments. In the presence of my naked body, I hope a man’s mind becomes pretty stimulated and his mind takes off. Here are the thoughts I HOPE a man could have when he’s in bed with me.

  1. Damn! I forgot to shower. Not that I mind a whiff of musky body odor during sex. I just like the idea of a man who wants to prep for me.
  2. My god, these are perfect! Hopefully the best breasts are the ones that have recently been exposed for his enjoyment.
  3. I should remember this for later. Taking a mental picture of me for later. For.. you know… solo activity.
  4. “Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd …” I was once told that men sing this song in their heads to hold off the Big O so that they can last longer for their partners. I like a man who wants to extend the play.
  5. Play it cool. I want a man to think he’s totally in charge, even when he’s not.
  6. I wonder if she’d be cool if I tried ______? Every guy has his own bag of tricks and I want to be shown his.
  7. Where did she learn THAT?! I have my own moves and would like to think that I manage to blow his mind once or twice.
  8. So, um, was that an orgasm? When men orgasm, you know it. It’s a show. So I can understand their confusion when, after I orgasm, I just keep going like I’m the Duracell bunny. He doesn’t know if he should keep going? Wrap things up? WHAT TO DO?!
  9. THAT. JUST. HAPPENED. Men may not show it afterward but they’re pretty excited. Nothing else matters at this time. He has me in his arms and his brain is stewing in a bath of feel-good hormones.

Screwed

Every time I get a little bored, I open up Tinder and let my finger do some swiping.

Usually I swipe left, but every now and then I swipe right.

On all the lumberjacks, naturally.

I force myself to sit and swipe until I find four men to swipe left on.

It’s just an arbitrary number I’ve assigned myself.

Four is just enough to ensure that I have at least one man respond.

Boredom alleviated!

Someone to flirt with.

Well, the other day I was swiping and I managed to swipe right on 4 profiles.

Mission accomplished.

Then ALL FOUR MEN STARTED TEXTING ME.

Jerry, Eric, Steve and Truman.

Now.

The problem with texting four men at the same time is that you lose track of details.

Like who said what.

For example, one of these men owns a natural stone restoration company.

Which one?

I have NO FRIGGING CLUE.

Also, one has two boys and another has two girls.

Which ones?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Since 99.9% of my Tinder matches fail to materialize into a date, this most likely will not be a problem for me.

But, should I actually land a date, it would be embarrassing to ask the same questions and let on that I CAN’T REMEMBER A SINGLE DETAIL FROM OUR EARLIER CONVERSATIONS.

That’s it.

I’m screwed.

Sowing my wild oats and reaping happiness

Ok.

Maybe this isn’t ENTIRELY true.

I can practically HEAR my GF Michelle telling me that I’m an exceptional human being who deserves a loving, intimate relationship.

But it’s a little bit true.

I like my booze (when I’m not in my post-Burning Man dry spell).

And I like my men.

Not all the men I sleep with are “wise decisions.”

I seem to base all my lovemaking decisions on facial hair and chest circumference instead of kindness and availability.

No matter though, the bottom line is that RIGHT NOW I LIKE BEING SINGLE.

It doesn’t bother me.

Oh sure, come talk to me when I’m at K&B’s wedding next weekend and it’ll be a different story.

I’ll probably be sad I have no one to dance with or make out with.

But as of right now, I’m happy.

And I’m just going to fill up my coffers with all the happiness they can hold because I’m sure that just around the corner is a loop that’s going to get thrown my way.

And then I’ll want the opposite of what I have.

I’ll want a nice, warm, comfortable, loving, committed relationship that will support me through the tough times.

But right now times are fat and I’m reaping all the happiness I can handle!

Skills wanted

As it turns out, when I swipe right on Tinder, 90% of the time I match with that person.

It’s kinda cool to get access to message the men who are interested in me instantly.

I’ve discovered that more and more lately, I am first reading the profile of the man I’m supposed to match with.

And I’m looking for something IN ADDITION TO facial hair and big brawny chests.

I’m looking for Burning Man skills.

Something that can prove useful when you’re creating a temporary community out in the alpine desert.

I got really excited when I read one profile where the guy was a welder/metal fabricator.

Another man was a pilot and I nearly shat myself when I read that.

Still yet another is a Mechanical Engineer.

Well color me happy and stick a fork in me, I AM DONE!

Yes, yes and yes PLEASE.

So here are the skills I’m looking for:

  • Bartending
  • Woodworking
  • Metalworking
  • Pilot’s license
  • Avid camper
  • DJ
  • Sex god

There you have it. My wish list in a nutshell!