The Lost Plum…

I get asked a lot about what was the worst date I ever went on. Or what are your dating horror stories. And like everyone, I’ve had my share of bad dates, and even my share of really bad dates.  I usually go with telling about this date, but then there was the blind date I’m about to tell you about. It was bad, but then again it was more just a date with a bad person.

A friend of mine was in the city filming a movie. She and I aren’t as close as we used to be, and don’t talk all that often, but we had done dinner one night, and talked about being single (she had just broke up with her boyfriend and I was as always single).

Two days later she called me. She had met this guy who worked in locations on her set. She thought he seemed nice, and he was single, and she was setting us up on a blind date.

Now I’ve never had the best luck on blind dates, they usually make me question my friendships…basically I would sit there looking at some guy wondering how what I thought was a good friend would think anything about this person was “right” for me.

But against my better judgment I agreed to meet this guy for a drink. He and I exchanged a few phone calls, and had our after work drinks planed with the option of seeing how it goes and maybe grabbing dinner. He actually said that which I thought was a huge turn off, but I let it go.

He picked this very posh cocktail lounge in Lower Manhattan, which frankly was alittle to stylish for my liking on a first date. He sent me a text saying he would be about 10 minutes late, I was surprising on time, so I texted back saying no worries I’d wait at the bar. I settled into the bar and ordered my very delicious but completely over priced drink.

Upon his arrival he seemed normal. Tall and in a business suit, dark featured, but nothing really to write home about, just seemingly normal. He smiled, I smiled, and we started into the usual blind date get to know you banter.

And then about 10 or 15 minutes into our seemingly ok date (there was nothing really there but the company was nice and the drinks were delicious) He says the following to me, “ I’m glad you sat at the bar and not at a table” “ Why is that” I asked him. And then he said the following as if it was second nature to him,

“ Cause at least at the bar we only have to deal with the one black bartender.”

I gave him a questionable look, in which he then proceeded to rant about how people of pretty much every race but ‘white’ were terrible serves in restaurant, and how he had no idea this place started hiring so many ‘black’ people since he had last been.

I sat there with what was most likely the blankest of blank stares on my face. My jaw may have actually hit the bar. I see from the corner of my eye, the two bartenders frozen where they were staring at us. I feel embarrassed to be with this guy, and sad for him at the same time.

Are these words really leaving his mouth? Is he really in the middle of this bar going on a rant about how he hates black people? And why am I not wearing my Obama T-shirt when I need it?

As he proceeded to continue on some racist banter about something I interrupted him in the only way I could think of at the moment.

“I think I should just let you know that my Dad is black”.

He looked at me as if a bus had just hit him.

“ But you’re white.”

“ I know. I look white, my brother looks black, that is how it works.”

Silence fell. It felt like every eye within a 4-foot vicinity of us had stopped what they were doing and watching the tale I was telling him unravel.

“So you could have a baby that looks black?” He asked me still looking at my ivory white skin in total shock.

“ Oh yeah of course, I could pop out babies black as night.”

This look of terror came over his face, as what I can only described as this fear that he could have gambled with having sex with me and never would have know what he was sticking his penis in unless I had said something.

“ I’m going to go use the ladies room, and when I’m get back I assume you aren’t going to be here” I said as I got up off my chair and walked to the restrooms.

When I returned he was no longer sitting at the bar, and I assume he used what little braincells he had to tell himself leaving was the best option for him.

I on the other hand was greeted by a round of applause from the bartenders and the two people sitting next to us when I returned to the bar area. He apparently had said the following to the one male (‘white’) bartender before leaving:  “she’s half black” with a confused look on his face.

I sat down and had another drink on the house, and the bartenders also picked up the tab that my date had so gentlemanly left me with, which included his $40 glass of whisky.

FACT: I might just be the whitest kid you know.

SIDEBAR: This was the last blind date I ever went on, or will ever go one for that matter.

I wrote a post I haven’t posted yet. The topic of this post was to debunk the age old claim that dating or being in a relationship makes you fat or makes you gain weight.

I have always lost weight while in relationships, not gained and after thinking on it and even asking others I’m still perplexed at where this idea comes from. Does being in a relationship really make you fat? And if so where is this happening? I’m looking at you Dr.Oz, tell me!

I haven’t posted the post, because well, I might disagree with my statements now, I may have to jump on the bandwagon and say that being in a relationship just MIGHT (might) make you gain weight.

It all depends on who you are dating…

In my unposted post I outline that yes you go out and dine more with a partner but I think you are more conscious of it. You share things like apps and deserts, and you wait to eat with no snacking as to not ruin your appetite, and after your big meal is done your ready for other after dinner activities. Your meals are more planned out. More timely. You and your partner plan to do lunch there for you don’t spend all afternoon eating a sleeve of puddings. You mix it up more, not ordering Chinese then eating the leftovers for 2days and then reordering Chinese. I don’t think a relationship is cool with splitting a muffin and a bag of left over movie popcorn for dinner, but when it’s 10pm and I’ve realized I haven’t eaten yet the muffin/popcorn combo works fine for me.

I’ve dated alot of guys who made comments about my weight, or my appearance. And yet at those times I was like half the size I am now. Maybe I’ve been more aware of it in the past cause the guys I was with made me so. Maybe them telling me I was fat or that I should watch my weight made me more conscious then the average. Made me in a sense not be the norm and actually lose weight while in a relationship.

Also I’ve dated a bunch of vegetarians, strike that I’ve dated way too many vegetarians! Now don’t get me wrong I love a big dinner salad, and get them all the time. And I don’t judge them for not eating chicken (for not eating bacon I do!)

Ok so maybe it’s not the vegetarian thing at all. Maybe it’s that I’ve dated alot of guys who overly care about their appearances and like their women to fit into a pretty little not over a size 8 box. In fact, I think that might be it. In fact, I’m sure of it.

Maybe all along not only have I been dating the wrong guys but my waistline has been too.

So here’s the thing: I love food! I eat. I try new things like I’m just experiencing them, cause alot of times I am. I grew up in a house where I don’t think salt even was/is present. Sugar kids cereal was the luxury, and there are no real restaurants around. When I went to undergrad University I slowly weaned myself back onto gluten and boy is gluten good! And tried things for the first time like chocolate milk!  I started traveling and experienced the pleasure of that. Cause the true test of being an adult is making the choice to only eat gelato for two days when in Rome.

And then I moved to NYC and the foodie in me was unleashed like a razor to Britney’s head. Add on top of that that American portions are bigger then my face, and I’ve falling in love with spice, butter, and meat. And although NY street meat has got nothing on Toronto’s it’s a hell of a city to fall in love with food in. Thus I started to gain alittle, or maybe a lot….

Maybe I just need to fall for the right guy too! Maybe my stomach has been on a hunt. A hunt not only for the perfect hotdog but well for the perfect “hotdog”. A hunt for a guy who introduces me to things called ”Combos” or “Popeye’s Chicken” and even “Pop Tarts”. A guy who makes me nachos for dinner and indulges in the idea that we each get a desert and share them.

A guy who likes me for me and even though I might be at the biggest I’ve ever been in my life by like 20 pounds, holds my hand while we walk for street side tacos at 2am, and tells me I’m beautiful as I have taco grease running down my chin….maybe falling in love with the boy who loves ‘All’ of me is something I can really sink my teeth into.

SIDEBAR: I hate hate hated the book Eat, Pray, Love. Gag me with a spoon!

Here in one of the greatest cities in the world the majority of us commute/travel/get around via public transit.

The subway system being one of the most popular, it’s usually always there for you (usually). It gets you places, it provides entertainment and it opens doors.

You could say it is the most constant relationship I’ve had since moving to NYC.

SIDEBAR: We did have that 3-month break but that’s another story.

Yup, I think the subway is my true NYC boyfriend. He’s usually on time, he smells sometimes, he’s cool, and always has someplace to take me…. oh and he’s a fun big long thing to ride on!

However, if it’s my one true relationship I must project my fears and hang-ups that I usually foresee in men on my beloved subway boyfriend.

And I do. I’m scared of the subway most of the time. I stand back away from the edge (see above sidebar), I get disgusted by others my boyfriend lets ride on him, I make comments about his smell and appearance, I worry when he’s not on time, and I get pissed when he’s not there for me when I need him, yet he seems to be there for others.

But like all relationships I’m prepared for what might go wrong.  See the subway has its emergency plan. It is in ever car, on every line: The, “what to do in case of an emergency” procedure plan.

The emergency brake is usually right above this list of procedures. The list of what to do in case of fire, evacuation, illness, police emergency and so on.  What does one do? Not what you think. In fact you don’t pull the emergency brake.

In all emergency matters you never pull the brake.

The brake is like a false security. Much like the false security you have in a relationship. If something goes wrong you can’t just push a button or pull a cord and all will be ok. You can’t always walk away unscathed.

In case of an emergency you need to turn to the procedures to handle the situation in the right manner. You need to calm down and walk through step by step.

In relationships we aren’t always prepared for the “emergencies” we face but we can’t always fall back on a false security that things will be ok.  Something or in this case someone isn’t always there to catch you, isn’t there to save you, and in most cases just isn’t there fore you.

Although, subway emergencies don’t happen often, relationship emergencies happen all the time. Whether it is a real fire, or just an irate passenger we need to learn to just breath and take the right steps in making things better.

Now if only there was a manual for that…..

I got thinking the other day. Thinking about friends and their ability to stand and support you, now not in life, or anything like that.

Here’s the thing I have been thinking about how I’ve been told on 3 occasions when I’ve meet a guy I’ve been seeing (involved with or dating) friends.

I’ve been told how great that guy is, how special he is, and how I better, in a sense, watch myself. I’ve been told that I need to understand how special and wonderful said guy is, and how I need to treat him well.

Now I get alittle thrown off because these are always the conversations I see people telling the guy who is dating the girl, at least that’s how it happens in the movies and on TV. It’s almost never people telling the girl to take care of the guy she is dating. Or is it?

Now most of the time when this happens I kind of want to say “Are you kidding me? You just meet me, but let me tell you something I am the real catch in this relationship.” Alas, I jus say, “ I know” and nod my head, or smile sweetly as I get told how great their guy friend is and how lucky I apparently am to be graced with his presence.

Here’s what gets me though. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend tell any guy I’ve ever brought around that I am a catch, or they need to treat me right. In fact, I pretty much am positive no friend has ever let a guy know that I am worthy of being treated well.

Maybe my friends assume that by the time I get around to introducing guys to them that I’ve already vented the bad ones out. Maybe they trust my judgment and what I’m doing.

But then again knowing my past judgment in relationships or men you would think my friends would let boys know that they should treat me well.

So question is do my friends just trust me that much? I find that hard to believe. Maybe no one really cares in a sense. They just assume I’ll pull myself back up at the end of the day, like I always do so why waste their time telling a guy I’m dating to treat me right and realize I’m special….but I think I’m worth that, just alittle bit, maybe.

So every Sunday I give you a taste from the  four plus notebooks I have filled with bad pick up lines that men have actually used on me.

Let’s face it we all find ourselves in situations with the opposite sex (and same sex) that are less than ideal.  The retched being picked up or should I say attempt at being picked up is always a circumstance I dread.  However, after years of practice I’ve found some interesting and straight up nasty ways of getting that man who has attached himself to me to leave.

SIDEBAR:  Those who know me are always shocked when I pull these out of the bag of tricks, because I’m always the nice one who will politely talk to the creepy boy and make a nice and descent exit, however, sometimes you can’t hold back.

6 Excuses I have used to get out of talking to a guy (or ways to get him to leave you alone!)

1.  When he asks you what kind of drink you want and insists he buys you one even after you’ve made it clear you don’t want one you come up with a disgusting drink concoction. This concoction should include two types of alcohol and orange soda if possible.  My personal favorite is Jamison, Greygoose, orange soda, and bitters.  When he asks if it’s good you say: “ No, but it gets me angry drunk, and that’s what I’m going for tonight!

2. Put a ring on it!  Yes girls do take rings off their other fingers turn them around and make them look like wedding rings so they can tell guys they are married. However, this doesn’t always work, but when you tell him you are married, make sure you say it’s to a woman.  Guys are fascinated by lesbians, but for some reason they get turned off by married lesbians.

3. Pretend you are deaf.  This only works when you are alone, and not sitting with headphones on.  I have on more than one occasion pretended I couldn’t hear on the subway when some creepy man has started to talk to me. I also do a great ‘deaf speak’ of “ I can’t hear” with the sign language followed by a smile and a look away.  This should not be confused with not speaking English. Guys get turned on by the idea of you not speaking English, but no one wants to be the creep hitting on the deaf girl.

4.  When at a bar ask the guy if he came with any female friends. When he asks why, or says yes. Ask if he thinks they might have a tampon cause you’re bleeding through them like crazy. They run faster than Moses parted the red sea.

5.  Start to dry heave and excuse yourself. Only at a small house party gathering will you maybe encounter the guy who will follow you and want to hold your hair, otherwise they’re done with you. Starting to pick your nose also works very well, as long as you get right up in there.

6. When they ask for your number say it’s better if they give you theirs because you wont be availed for a while. Tell them your doctors says you shouldn’t be having sex until 5 days after this cycle of medication you’re on is finished.