Is it sad that my dating experiences have corrupted my hope in new dates? What could I possibly mean by that? Well, this guy was super sweet and super fun to text and I started to second-guess thanks because he was so nice. And like so excited to talk to me and go on a date and said he really didn't get much attention on dating sites. I'm used to such an opposite attitude, that I almost started to question why he was so excited to go out with me. A) I'm not all that and a bag of potato chips B) why do other girls not want to go out with him C) did I just become a cynic? And D) Icouldn't wait to see how this played out Or am I gonna have to Bop him on the head?Not only is this boy another tall glass of water, but he had a cute hairstyle with like this kind of faux hawk thing going on and a tattoo sleeve! Are girls really this stupid? Like what the french toast? So we actually met at a pizza shop which, is not a little Slice of Heaven for me. I just feel like Americans are obsessed with pizza and consume it at such a rapid rate, that it holds very little wow factor for me. While walking through the line to pick our pizza toppings, he found out that pizza was not my favorite. "Stephanie, you are supposed to tell me these things." Our conversation bounced from Civil War history to traveling to Military Life to food. On the way out of the pizza shop to drop her leftovers in his fine car, Dodge Challenger (the only car that ever saved my good friend from college, her fiance, and my life in a bad car accident in '14) a lady by the door caught me stealing a glance of Mr. Shoots and Ladder's butt. No shame, because I felt like I was in candy land ;) Hey! Guys can stare at my chest, but I can't steal a glance of their assets? Bubble butt, check! After returning to his car, we returned to the mall to reminisce about dates in middle school when our parents would drop us off. Just kidding, I didn't have any dates in Middle School ;) #choirnerd4life I introduced him to the world of Dipsy Doozies. These are found in the one and only, "Great American Cookie." Patriotic as chip! Foreign to this sweet phenomena? It's where two cookies are perfectly united with a thin layer of frosting. This is the best kind of sandwich of all my life. Who needs turkey, lettuce, sliced tomato, this one roast beef, this one had none... So, once we received our cookies, I whipped out my credit card and handed it to the lady. He was so shocked that even hours later on my couch, he still brought it up. Yes, I did take him home, but not as bow chikka brown cow as you would think. Well anywhozer.... we were finishing our stroll through the mall when I caught glimpse of another guy I had been dating. Nervous as a pregnant nun in church, I barely dodged him. I don't think my date ever noticed.. Then again, he's a guy... He notice until the end of the date that I had blue in my hair. After the mall, we casually strolled through Best Buy where we fixated on a bin of movies. That's where we got the bright idea to go to either of our houses to watch one. I picked mine because it was closer and my best friend power cleaned upon receiving my texts of my arrival. Once we arrived, I put on "Push," which he'd never seen and I hadn't seen half a decade. He stretched his arm around me, but didn't touch me. It was positioned on top of the couch, just levitating over my shoulders. Shoot. I appreciated the respect and his patience... But I longed for physical touch and didn't want to climb the ladder. So, I did the most logical and mature thing, I ticked him to death. Then he held both my hands so I would desist. Mission accomplished. He got kind of weird when I invited him to go dancing with us later that night and left shortly after the movie. As he left, another guy in a luxury vehicle pulled up in front of our house. No, that was not my back-up date. It was my best friend's. The first luxury car came back to our house because he left his phone. Blushing the top color of a stop light, he said, "don't know how I forgot this." He made his way home and later texted me that he left his sunglasses. To be completely honest, I had no idea whose sunglasses they were because there may have been another gentleman suitor later that night (since the second was a rusty tool at the bottom of a shed) so, I wasn't going to text anyone until they texted me. Not trying to make a fool of myself or suggest that I have several male suitors coming to my beckon call to my quaint little home downtown. This sweet best kept secret is the icing on top.... or.... between.1 pound powdered sugar
1 tablespoon butter 1/2 cup shortening 2 tablespoons milk 2 tablespoons hot water 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
0 Comments
The traveler in me was indulged by this tall bottle of water. He was so skinny, I possibly could have broke him in half, but never gave the impression that I was too big for him. Which, if you've kept up with my Pensacola experience so far, you know that that's genuinely been a problem. It all started because he flirtily invited himself to a beach date that I had, through messaging in the app. Honest as a nun and with a habit of serial dating, I stated that he would have been intruding on a date. "Oh so I have competition," he fired back. His interest was instantly engaged. "Well, I'll have to Razzle Dazzle you." Rolling my eyes at such a wild proposal, I couldn't help but think of all the other letdowns and boys that just used words with no action. I'll be damned if this guy did not follow through. "Let's go somewhere," he pleaded. Don't threaten me with a good time! I listed off the cities in closest proximity of Pensacola and he practically yawned through text. "Okay," I said. Time to test this fool, I thought. "New Orleans is 3 hours and Atlanta is 5." "New Orleans," he replied and retrieved my phone number. After receiving some drunk texts and a few missed calls Friday night from Mr. Roadtrip Rascal, I assumed we wouldn't be making the venture. Saturday morning at 9 a.m., I texted him and said, "where you at? Are we doing this thing?" He must have shot out of bed, because I'll be damned if he didn't show up at my house in the next 20 minutes. Like the horse races, we were off! We joked about both of our friends hoping the other wasn't a Natural Born Killer. We talked about family, our common religion, our plans to get out of this town... I swear it was like a freaking country song. Then in Mobile, the one hour mark, we went into the tunnel and several cars on all sides of us began honking their horns. For no reason. But, then it seemed like it was playful. So he honked back a melody that required a an answer of two honks. We cackled and then made our way to Chipotle. Yeah, fun fact: Pensacola has absolutely no Chipotle's. WTF?! The city makes no sense. Anywho, we walked in and ordered; I tried to pay and he practically threw my credit card on the other side of the restaurant. Once we made our way to the parking lot, I thanked him excessively and he kissed me. Towering over me, he smiled and then he grabbed my car door. Then, when we stopped along the way for gas, again, I fought to pay the bill since he took his car and was taking me on this trip, but her refused, kissing me again. We rode the rest of the way to New Orleans with grins on our faces, his right hand nestled inside the beginning of my left thigh, just above my freckled kneecap. He booked us a Marriott room, just blocks athwart from the French Quarter, which was quite a treat for me, because anytime I stay in town, it's with family away from downtown. We explored like tourists and flirted like teenagers. Then, when the sun went down is when we really went out to play. We ate dinner off Bourbon St. at this delicious place and had Bloody Mary's since the vodka was marinating a picture of okra, celery, creole tomatoes, pearl onions, and I believe bell peppers. We picked up a buzz in a few tunes as we bar hopped to Frenchmen Street. The date was going well, really well. A sharp annoyance hit me when I made a comment about how we both were making Snapchat posts, yet neither one of us added the other as a friend. "Oh, well I only have family on my Snapchat." Okay.... I thought. Yet oh, I didn't believe him. All the posts he was making were of one drink, scenes of the street, and one plate. I noticed how careful he was do not capture the edge of my drink or plate. I've been there. According to my mom, I "invented sneaky" and this boy was being sneaky. When I returned from the bathroom at the alternative rock bar, I saw a young blonde video snapping him, which he quickly clicked away when I walked up. And I’m supposed to believe that’s family? I scoffed to myself. I understand he just met me, but don’t lie to me. I’m talking to other people too, but gosh. It bothered me like a charley-horse and a couple more vodka sodas brought it out of me. He brushed off that it was his buddy’s wife. Yet, his buddy obviously isn’t family either. I just don’t understand the point of lying. That’s fine that you don’t want to be my friend on Snapchat, but you did take me on a date to another state... So why is social media such a big deal? I played nice and continued on with the night. At one of the last bars we ventured to for our night on Frenchmen Street, while jamming to another live band, he went up to get us our 18th drink (kidding…kind of). While he was gone, a short, harmless tan-skinned Arabian approached me. Engaging in conversation about a country I’ve never been to, I smiled as we talked. Moments later, my date returned on a mission. “Do you think my wife’s hot?” Wait a minute, I thought to myself. I went from not being worthy to being on your Snapchat to your wife in a jealous show? Instantly I decided this was blog-worthy. Then my out-of-country friend said yes! I was dying and slightly flattered. In a strange way, I kind of need a man that’s a little tiny bit jealous. In a twisted way it makes me feel wanted. Then again, I’m a little jealous myself. I haven’t had an opportunity be jealous since I haven’t had anyone that’s mine in a while… with the right person will bring it out of me…in the most innocent of ways *adjusts halo.* When I really care about someone, I value their time and understand that other people find them attractive cuz obviously that’s one of the reasons I’m there… so hey! At least I knew homeboy found me attractive. Stephanie called him homeboy! That only means one thing..... skip.Homeboy (n): name for a guy that holds a temporary place in your life and will not amount to anything romantically. There are infinite reasons why he isn't "the one" and just "this one." He most likely will or has already thrown a cheap shot at your heart. Did I make it home?
|
AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
April 2022
Categories
All
|