Although most of my dating escapades occur after meeting someone on a shitty online site, there are those very rare occasions when I actually meet someone outside of the internet. Yes, amazingly, it's still somewhat possible. But that doesn't mean it turns out well.


This recently happened while I was spending a Saturday afternoon at the community pool drinking some Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers. ( Don't judge me. I like to switch up my party drinks every now and then. And I'm cheap.) There was a boy eyeballing me who was actually pretty good looking. He was pounding some MGDs which is what probably what ultimately led to his interest in me. Whether it was alcohol or pure carnal attraction, we ended up exchanging some glances and finally he made his move.


I learned his name was Patrick. (Check. Decent name and probably Irish.) He was originally from Missouri, (another check - Midwest guy.) He was 34 and divorced. (Hell yes. Usually means he doesn't want to rush into marriage.) And he works in construction. (Hmmm. Not super excited about that because Vegas is not the greatest place for that type of work, but he was hot and had a pretty bomb body so I let it slide.)


So we talked for a bit and I found out he pretty much lived right around the corner from me. He said he was making some chili that evening and invited me over for dinner. Since I was astonished that anyone would still be interested AFTER seeing me in a bathing suit, I said yes.


When I got to his place I could tell he was one of those dudes who's into hunting and fishing and all that jazz by the various stuffed animal heads and mounted fish furnishing his home. I'm not really into that but I can appreciate a guy who is, means he's manly, and that's a turn on. So anyway, I found out he had a roommate who was out of town. He didn't say too much else about the roommate but I wasn't interested in that anyway. We have a couple beers and just as he's about to serve this chili that smelled flippin' awesome, the door flies open. What entered the room was enough to give any normal human nightmares for a good solid week.


A completely bald woman wearing a BAJA and sweat pants rushes in and literally sprints down the hallway yelling something along the lines of "Where is it??? I need it!" Dude looks at me in panic and says, "I apologize for what's about to happen." The woman runs back into the room and I guess she didn't see me at first but stops suddenly and just stares at me. At this point I realize she is not only bald, but has no hair on her body at all, no eyebrows and I don't think I even saw eyelashes. She then says, "Hello. I'm Barb. Patrick's wife." Of course you are.


Yep. His "roommate" was actually his crazy wife. She then proceeds to whip out a pack of Pall Malls and attempts to light a cigarette, but seems to have a rough time cause her hands are shaking like a saltshaker (thanks Ying Yang Twins!). I say, "Ok I'm going." But, she stops me and insists I stay because, "they are not really together she just came by because she needed money for heroin." HEROIN. Oh. So that's why your hands are shaking.


No I know I really have to get out of there, so I mumble something about letting my dog out and hightail it out the door. Of course the dude follows me, saying something about hold on, let me explain, yadda yadda yadda. I tell him he obviously has some things to deal with and he should probably take care of that first.


Two days later he calls and leaves me a message saying something about he came home and all of his stuff was gone, I guess she sold it all for drug money. Surprisingly, I didn't call him back.


I think I'll stick to online dating for the time being. And avoid the pool.

Sexting in Vegas

Meeting a new possible love interest for the first time over lunch is supposed to be unassuming. You rendezvous in the glaring brightness of daylight, dressed moderately yet fashionably (a.k.a. devoid of cleavage), looking fresh in makeup that seems non-existent but in fact has taken you well over an hour to perfect. And the biggest factor differentiating a lunch date from an evening date? There (usually) isn't any alcohol involved. Which means the chances of this encounter turning into a "hot lunch" are slim to none. At least by my standards. Apparently the Vegas dating standards are even lower than mine. Recently I found myself at lunch with someone I was not expecting to meet. By this I mean he looked nothing like the pictures that were posted on his online profile. Ok wait - I take that back. He looked somewhat like the pictures...plus about 35-40 pounds from the chest down. He had one of those odd pear-shaped bodies which are terrible on women but even more horrific on men. These body types are sneaky...you can't always detect them from pictures because they are often shot from above. Shady bastards. We met at a casino cafe. And it wasn't one of the cool upscale casinos either. It's one of the local joints. (Sidenote: Local Vegas casinos are the best for people watching, one of my favorite past times.) As I stood waiting near the "Sex & The City" slot machine, (how fitting), a short, pudgy man with a chain wallet waddled over. Yes, he fibbed about his height too. Despite my shock and instant non-attraction, I was polite and proceeded to the restaurant with him. Now I have no problem with husky men. In fact I tend to go for them. I like a guy who is bigger than me, not some skinbomb toothpick who can't move my TV when I ask him to (Yes I'm bitter over an issue in the past). As long as he takes care of himself I don't expect perfection. But this guy was husky and then some. Kind of like a jacked up Barney Rubble with a booty-pop shoved in his pants while sporting a Joe Dirt goatee. Despite whatever genetics did to him physically, intellectually he was semi normal. The conversation was ok. We talked about our careers, our families, but at NO POINT WHATSOEVER did anything sexual come up. At all. When the date came to an end he asked about seeing me again. I replied with a vague "It's a possibility" because I don't have the balls to say "When Lindsay Lohan is sober" which we all know will never happen. Over the next couple days he sent a text here and there about meeting up and again I sporadically replied with very ambiguous answers. Then I continued on with my life and forgot about him. Until this morning. 7:42 a.m. I'm barely awake and already running late. Phone goes off. Picture message. And there it is. A picture of his JUNK with a message saying "Woke up thinking of you this morning." It wasn't even good looking junk either. Small, with no girth and not very well groomed. COME ON. In what realm of anyone's jacked up mind would this be a good way to woo a woman? It's one thing if you've been dating and have already had sex, and know that the other girl is into it. But to send a pic like that to a woman who hasn't responded to even the most normal of texts is just absurd.

This man, and alot of other men I think, believe single women are sex-starved and that even the tiniest (literally tiniest) hint of getting some penis will drive us wild. Sorry. Wrong. Women can hold out for quite some time, and in the meantime there are plenty things available for us. Why would I be on an online dating site if all I wanted was some chubster with an unsatisfying pecker? I can find that any night at any bar.

Needless to say I did not respond and I have not heard from him since. But I don't want to get my hopes up yet...I could wake up tomorrow with a pic of him naked and sporting a scuba mask. Freak show.

I Gave My Number to YOU???

Saturday was a late night. Late as in sun-coming-up-makeup-smeared-shoes-off kind of late. This is Vegas. It happens. Often. Maybe too often...but that's not the point. Moving on...I may or may not remember the last hour of the night. Ok I don't remember it. At all. But apparently, in a casino parking garage in this hour that to me does not exist, I made a love connection. I was unaware of this love connection until 2.5 hours ago. (And BTW today is Wednesday.) I found out about it through a random text from a number I didn't know with a New Jersey area code. The text said "Hey whats up you prob dont remember me from city center do you?" Ummmm no....I do not.
Now this is where you ask yourself if you should respond or not. Me - being curious and a little bit scared that maybe I did something or left something somewhere as well as excited that it could be a hot guy - responded right away. I then find out that it is the SECURITY GUARD from the casino who I apparently thought was "handsome" while in a drunken stupor. This is not the first, and I'm sure won't be the last, time I've done this. I've given my number to security guards at strip clubs and parking lots, Albertson's workers, cops, and plenty other random dudes who I don't recall ever meeting. There's nothing wrong with giving my number out - the problem is none of these guys are ever actually attractive when I meet them (again). So now I am faced with the dilemma again. Should I continue the text conversation and put myself in an awkward position for the millioneth time or cut it off from the get go? I of course, continue with it. Who knows? This one really could be the one! Plus I like awkward. More to come on this situation....

The Night is Young and I'm Drunk in Vegas.

Oh good. Another blog you can skip right over. It's ok I'm used to it. And I'm also very aware the only people reading this will be my weird , overweight cousin and the smelly guy who sits across from me at the office. I just need something to do while I sit home alone and drink wine bought from the clearance box at Lee's Discount Liquour. Yeah it's cheap but I don't give a crap. I'm broke...I like wine....and I like drinking alone - which you will soon find out is partially caused by all the strange men I have dated in this crazy town. Yes! I'm drunk right now.


Seriously. Dating shouldn't be this jacked up. But I do have to admit I love having the stories to tell hence this blog that you'll never read again. Like the guy who came over after a hot night out and decided to take a bath in an inch of water while staring at me and stroking it. Or the guy who decided to tell me during a fancy dinner that he likes to have his dick sucked by a man every now and then...but he's not gay. Or the guy who's crazy bald ex-ife showed up and asked to borrow my panties. Yeah. I've got lots of those stories.


So you have an idea who's writing this...me - 32, single, 5'2, about 130 lbs, curvy a.k.a. "busty", brown hair, big hazel eyes, two dimples one on each side. Have a college degree, a good career and handle my business. But just can't find the one. Not that I'm in any rush and Vegas probably isn't the best place to find a good, honest man but I'm here so I'm making the best of it.



So why not join me for strong drinks, fucked up stories and nightly sinning in Sin City.

More to come.....