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Friday, October 14, 2011

Chapter 17, or The worst date ever


Thinking about this date [with sloppy kissing East Coast Jew Musician from Chapter 16] still makes me feel ill.  His looks were bad, his personality was worse and he was borderline creepy.  So, to save me from vomiting, I’m going to muscle through this date by simply listing the reasons why it was the worst date ever.

1.     The whole night he called me by my full name: Jennifer Liotta.  Jennifer Joanne.  Jennifer Joanne Liotta.  Who does that?  I must’ve told him to call me Jen a million times.  Hey Slobby Magee, those giant ears are for listening.
2.     He said, “I think I saw your headshot online.  Yeah, that was you.  Jennifer Liotta”  Yep, he googled me.  And told me about it!  I felt a little violated, actually.  And not in a good way.  The first thing I did the next day was to email The Ex and ask him to take down my super old webpage that I had forgotten about.
3.     One piece of our dinner conversation consisted of him telling me that he’d been on Prozac for the last eleven years.  Now, I’ve been on my fair share of low dosage antidepressants, but I don’t think the subject is first date dinner conversation.
4.     Throughout dinner he kept trying to hold my hands across the table and do the Creepy Rub.  The Creepy Rub can also be known as the Romantic Caress when done by a person that doesn’t make you want to vomit.  To get him to stop I put one hand on the chair next to me and held my wine glass with the other.  Every time I switched from wine to water he would take the opportunity to grab my hand.  So I’d say I needed my hand and then search through my purse for Chap Stick.  I did everything I could to make my hands unavailable and avoid the Creepy Rub.  Nothing polite I was doing worked so finally I told him that he was making my hands itch.
5.     There were two times we had to use the restroom.  (People have asked me why I didn’t leave when he was in there and all I could say was, “oh, man, why didn’t I think of that!”  It didn’t even occur to me to escape the date.  I may sound mean but I’m actually quite nice.)  The first time he went he kissed me before he left.  He kissed me!  I didn’t even see it coming so I couldn’t stop him!  He kissed me and said, “I think you’re a very beautiful woman.”  I have never felt so grossed out by those words in my life.  I’m not your girlfriend!  Go to the bathroom and come back and leave me alone in the process!  The second time he went to the bathroom he asked if he could kiss me.  I acted like I didn’t hear him and got all uncomfortable.  He could tell, so he said, “I’m making you uncomfortable; I’ll just go for the shoulder.”  And he kissed my shoulder!  My bare shoulder!  It’s kind of an intimate place to kiss someone and it was so territorial; I felt like he was peeing all over me.
6.     When karaoke was starting I found two couples at the bar that would be participating and started talking with them.  Suddenly I felt arms go around my waist and hands clasp in the front.  It was Slobby MaGee!  He actually wrapped his arms around me like we were teenagers taking a photo at prom or had been dating for months.  So I used my hands to remove his.  He put them back.  I removed them.  He put them back.  I removed them again and he said to the strangers I had just met, “Have you met Jennifer Liotta?  Jennifer Liotta is a great singer.”  I said, “You haven’t even heard me sing.”  I told the strangers we were on a first date.  They thought that was so cute.  ECJM put his arms around me again and I removed them again, so he said to the strangers, “Jennifer Liotta doesn’t like it when I touch her or give her compliments.”  Well, now I looked like an asshole so I shouted, “I’ve been divorced for one month!”  From the strangers,  “Aw, you’re just divorced?”  ECJM started to interject when one of the strangers said, “She just got divorced; it’s not about you!”  Now I had friends.  I invited them to join us for karaoke so I wouldn’t have to be alone with inappropriate handsy man.
7.     I wanted to leave after I’d sung all my songs but I didn’t know how to tell Handsy that I was ready to leave because I was afraid he’d walk me to my car and try to kiss me.  Bleh.  So I just kept dancing with my new friends.  We were rocking a classic from the 90’s when I saw Handsy get up, put on his jacket and walk outside.  I thought to myself, I’m pretty sure he’s not a smoker.  Is he leaving?  Is he walking out on me?  Is he mad because I’m not dancing with him?  Well, if he’s going to be a big baby I’m not going to chase after him.  And then I thought, I’ve been looking for a way out of this since dinner, if I knew we could just walk out I would’ve!  Maybe I could’ve avoided that nasty shoulder kiss.  I continued dancing.  Shortly after the song ended my new friends were ready to leave so I took that opportunity to leave also.  Just to be safe I texted Handsy to ask where he went.  What if he just stepped outside and then I take off and I’m the asshole?  I’d much rather have him be the asshole.  I decided that if he didn’t respond to the text by the time I got to my car I’d call him.  One last way to cover my ass.  Damn my parents for raising me with manners!  He didn’t answer when I called so I left him this message: “Hi Handsy, it’s Jen; I saw you leave but I don’t know where you went so I’m thinking one of two things happened.  One, you went outside to get some air and I missed you on my way out; two, you went outside to get some air and were kidnapped and murdered; or secret option number three, you’re being a big baby because I wasn’t giving you enough attention so you left.  Sooo, hope you didn’t get murdered, bye!”  He called me the next afternoon and left this message, “Hey Jennifer, it’s Handsy, I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night.  I think I had too much to drink and my judgment was impaired, I just saw you dancing and having so much fun so I left.  I understand if you never want to speak to me again, butIhopethatyoudon’t, but if you never want to speak to me again..I think you’re an amazing woman and I wish you the best in everything.  Hopeyoudon’thatemebye.”  He had too much to drink so he decided to drive 30 miles back to LA?  Jackass.  About six hours later he sent me a text: you can hate me if you want to.  What are we, 12?

Now, any one of these things on their own may not seem like such a disaster (except #7) but when you put them all together it’s a recipe for a crap sandwich.  Lessons learned:   
1.  Never go on a date just to go on a date.
        2.  Jews and Liottas just don’t mix.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

How To Be Sad and Pathetic: An Expert's Manual

I'm sure some of you are wondering how to deal with a broken heart.  Well, look no further.  I have the answer.  It's simple: you become sad and pathetic.  Maybe you're also wondering how to become sad and pathetic?  Just follow these steps:

Step 1:
Listen to songs that makes you cry.  Make a playlist and put it on repeat for several hours.  See if you can't cry the whole time.  My suggestions:
         1. Somewhere down the road - Barry Manilow
         2. Weekend in New England - Barry Manilow
         3. Someone Like You - Adele
         4. Glitter in the Air - Pink
         5. Here Comes Goodbye - Rascal Flatts
         6. What Hurts the Most - Rascal Flatts
         7. Broken Hearted Me - Anne Murray (an oldie but goodie)
         8. Look Away - Chicago (another oldie but goodie)
         9. You're Still Here - Faith Hill
         10. Let Me Let Go - Faith Hill
         11. There You'll Be - Faith Hill (she has some good tearjerkers)
         12. A Bad Goodbye - The Judds with Clint Black
         13. Is It Over Yet - The Judds
         14. A Little Fall of Rain - Les Mes
         15. Still Holding On - Martina McBride & Clint Black
         16. And Still - Reba McEntire (reminds me of my sad and pathetic high school days)
         17. What If It's You - Reba McEntire
         18. I'll Cover You (reprise) - Rent Soundtrack
         19. Still Holding Out For You - Shedaisy
         20. White Horse - Taylor Swift
         21. Just A Dream - Carrie Underwood
         22. She Can't Be Really Gone - Tim McGraw
         23. Don't Take the Girl - Tim McGraw
         24. You Don't Love Me Anymore - Tim McGraw (this one really rips your heart out)
         25. For Good - Wicked Soundtrack

(I realize the list is about 97% country songs, but ask yourself, does anyone do sad and pathetic better than country?) 

Step 2:
Watch movies that make you cry.  Preferably tragic love stories that end in death, but anything that makes you cry will do.  Just be sure to watch the movies in bed with a glass (or bottle) of wine.  My suggestions:
         1. Forrest Gump
         2. The Notebook (duh)
         3. Phenomenon
         4. Ghost
         5. Love Story
         6. Titanic (come on, you know it made you cry when it first came out)
         7. Moulin Rouge
         8. Finding Neverland
         9. My Life
         10. My Dog Skip
         11. Marley and Me (if that movie doesn't make you cry, you might be dead inside)
         12. My Girl (he can't see without his glasses on!)

And there you have it.  It's just like sweating out a fever.  Be sad and pathetic and cry out the heartbreak.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Chapter 16, or The lock and key party

In early March 2008 I went with my friend Suzanne to a Lock and Key party.  It's a singles event where all the guys have keys and all the girls have locks and you walk around trying to find a match.


          When we first walked in we went straight to the bar (obviously).  There was a guy waiting for a drink and he started talking to us.  Blah, blah, blah, his key didn’t match either of our locks, so off we went.  In the course of our searching for a matching key we didn’t run into anyone particularly hot or interesting so, finally, I just gave up and gave in to a real conversation with the guy at the bar.  Is it bad that he had been getting cuter the more I drank? 
            I actually said to Suzanne, “I think he’s cuter than he was when we first got here.  Do you think that’s because of his personality or because I’ve been drinking?”  What I wish she had said was, “RUN!”  What she actually said was, “He’s really sweet.  Sometimes that makes people cuter.”  And I know that’s true.  I also know the kind of power alcohol has on looks.  I think men refer to it as ‘beer goggles’.  But I was newly divorced so I didn’t just like the attention; I needed it.  So I went with it must be his personality making him cuter.  On my list of things not to do while drinking:
            1) Try to justify anything.
            2) Make decisions based on those justifications.
            The guy from the bar suggested we sit and talk, so I told Suzanne where I was going to be and sat on a bench with this guy.  He was from New York and had moved to Los Angeles 11 years ago.  Great, another east coaster like my ex-husband.  He loved Disneyland.  Well, that’s cool; I like a guy who likes Disneyland.  But then something about religion came up and I asked him if he was religious.  Somehow I knew the answer before I asked it. 
He said, “Actually I was raised Jewish.  Have you ever dated a Jewish guy?” 
Bitch, please.  I said, “I was married to a Jewish guy.” 
So he’s a Jew from the east coast, just like my ex-husband.  Then I found out that he likes karaoke and dancing.  And he plays the drums.  A musician, just like my ex-husband.  An east coast Jew musician?  This was all a little too close to home.  In my mind I made a pro/con list:
Pros:
Likes Disneyland
Likes karaoke
Likes dancing

Cons:
From the east coast, like my ex-husband
Is Jewish, like my ex-husband
Is a musician, like my ex-husband

It came out even which didn’t help the situation.  But then he kept telling me I was beautiful, a tricky distraction.  I had to add ‘good taste’ to the pro list.  So we talked more about karaoke and dancing.  He said he likes a girl that can dance; she has to be able to dance. 
So I said, “Well then you better be a good dancer too.”  He said he was.  I said, “Jews can’t dance!” 
He must have found that funny and adorable instead of sarcastic and possibly racist because not long after that he kissed me.  Now, as you know, kissing is one of my favorite things in the world to do.  And he ruined it for me.  Kissing this guy was the opposite of my favorite thing in the world to do.  Like talking politics or working out.  How is it possible, if your mouth is on my mouth that your tongue is on my chin?  And stop slobbering all over me, please.  It was like he was a dog and I was a water bowl.   
            I said, “I don’t want to be those people making out in a bar.” 
            Which wasn’t a lie, but mostly, I just didn’t want to kiss him anymore.  He kept trying though, so I had to come up with a better excuse.  Suzanne!  Where was Suzanne? Looking for her was the perfect excuse to stop and we found her on her way to the dance floor, so why don’t we join her?  Wow.  He wasn’t the worst dancer I’ve ever seen, but I was thinking he should take back his earlier comment that he could dance.  After about half an hour I told Suzanne that I was ready to go when she was.  She was ready.
            He walked us to our cars and when he asked me for my number I gave it to him.  I don’t even know why.  I think it was just because he was so complimentary.  I liked the idea of someone being so into me.  And no one had asked for my number in a long time.  And I have issues saying no.  So I gave him my number and I drove home and I tried to remember what he looked like and forget what he kissed like.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

This year in Nonline Dating: First Quarter

Between Plenty of Fish and Ok Cupid, this is how January, February and March treated me:

The first date section of the profile of this guy who emailed me:  "Japanese tea garden on a rainy ass day is the best time to get to know some one your body is already attracted to so the next stage is to get our minds on the same page."

(And that was only part of it.  Also, his email message to me was "ur fine."  If he had said, "yo fine" I probably would've responded.)

Dear (user name): If in Europe it is not considered slutty to "have a glass of wine then get naked" on the first date, then I am seriously considering moving to Europe.  But while I am still in "uptight" America, the answer is no.  But thanks.

(It's not that I'm above sleeping with a guy on the first date, but I don't reveal that information until the proper moment.  Duh.  Seems to me this guy is more impatient than I am uptight.)

Dear (user name): Because 7 or your 8 pictures are of your art and only one is of you, I would prefer to date your art.  Don't get mad at me, you brought this on yourself.

Dear (user name): I'm having a hard time believing you're 29.  Pictures don't like, you shouldn't either.  And if you are 29, maybe it's time to start wearing night cream?  Just a suggestion.

Dear (user name): Junior high called, it wants its glamor shots back.

Dear (user name): Despite your picture, I'm pretty sure you are not Captain Jack Sparrow.  Although, I wish you were.

Good start to the year, huh?