Three way

I love vacation weekends. It means sleeping in, relaxing, and lots of time outdoors in the sun. On the Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend some girlfriends and I headed out to the beach to catch some much needed rays of sunshine and downtime. Unfortunately the wind decided to puff up its muscles and show who’s boss right when we got there – but it was still an enjoyable couple of hours…all the way up to when we had to wrap ourselves in our towels to keep from getting freezer burn.

Anyway, after we headed back home and washed up we decided to head out for some dinner. We ended up at Jake’s Burger in Old Town and it was delicious. The chefs were really pretty friendly and we enjoyed joking around with them.

This is the part where I tell you about these annoying people that walk around Old Town selling flowers. I always feel awkward when I am walking with a guy and they practically harass them “pretty flowers for the beautiful lady?” I feel like I have to stick up for him, or say I hate flowers, or pretend we just got some but left them in the car. I don’t know…it’s weird.

So one of these guys comes into the restaurant. It is just three of us girls so I feel less pressure. We obviously do not want to buy OURSELVES a flower to remind us that we are single and have no one else to buy us these.

The, suddenly, mid burger-chomp, one of the chefs comes up to our table and presents us with a rose. “Sorry I could only get one for all three of you, you’ll have to share. But I wanted to get a rose for the beautiful ladies.”

One rose for three girls.

But I guess in these hard economic times – we’ve gotta take what we can get.

My favorite part was when we got up to leave after eating and he said, “Where are you going?” Sorry bud, the rose was nice, but not THAT nice.

When did my dad become hotter than me?

It is a sad thing when your dad gets hit on more than you when you’re out one evening.

My dad came to visit me a while ago and we went out to dinner at the illustrious California Pizza Kitchen. We had a very nice waiter that took quite a liking to my dad. All throughout dinner he would refer to my father as “sweetheart,” “honey,” or “darling.” Whenever MY requests were taken a simple “what? Oh, ok, sure” was all I could get out of him.

And all evening long he would quite affectionately put his hand on my father’s shoulder all the while laughing at his [stupid] jokes. I could barely get him to look me in the eye. I should have been the one he liked…I didn’t send my iced tea back 7 times!

It was just very strange when I am the one with the blog writing about bad pick-up lines, dates gone bad and various blunders that occur in my run-ins with the opposite sex - and this guy wouldn’t give me the time of day. I guess I now know where I got it ;-) Thanks, dad!

Starbucks chauch

Here is a delicious submission from one of my readers....take, eat, and enjoy:

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Let me set the scene: I was in my new favorite Starbucks (it is now my favorite because of my people experiences here. I was actually shushed here not that long before this incident). A normal young man placed his order and was waiting at the end of the bar. As I was placing my order (extra hot white mocha, no whip) this guy (he is known up here in my circles as the Starbucks Chauch (SC)- a chauch is a guy who thinks he is still a frat boy even though he is no longer in college. This particular one I am sure was in his mid to late 30s) comes in and gets in line behind me. So I give the Till-girl my order and go and wait. So I am waiting for my drink and SC begins to totally flirt with Till-girl. Ew.

So then he comes to wait for his drink. Mine gets called. "Extra hot white mocha, no whip. Sweet for me, bad news for coffee girl. So, I reach for my drink, and as I was reaching, SC says " Excuse me. . . " I thought he was talking to me, so I am holding my drink, my arm on the counter. . . But he wasn't talking to me, he was talking to Coffee-Barista-girl, who by the way looked really awkward. Then he says "Excuse me, you said extra hot, I thought you were talking to me."

I am still holding my drink looking at him, and I could feel all the thoughts I had at that moment form words that became etched onto my face. I looked at poor Coffee-Barista-girl and she was so uncomfortable and had no idea what to say. Unfortunately SC was so caught up in his own wit that I don't think he saw my face. I am sure if he wasn't so consumed with himself, he would have heard what the Coffee-Barista-girl would have wanted to say - through the look on my face. I think he left thinking he was so charming, so witty, so, so, so , so whatever. . .

I wondered if he was just trying to be funny, but the funny thing is. . . I think he was dead serious about himself.

He didn't even really have a cool car - I think he had one of those old sunfires. For crying out loud if you are going to embrace the fullness of chauch-hood and make a comment like he did, one should at least drive a car (or borrow one) that is as pretentious as you are. Sunfires are the kind of car a parent buys a thier 16 yr old. They are cheap and easy to care for, relatively cost effective. I hope he said thank you when his parents handed him the keys.

And this is one of the reasons why I choose to frequent this Starbucks.

Making an effort with the barista

So I ditch the dreads for the espresso...this much we know [this is no hard choice, I am a coffee addict]. The barista put fourth a certain amount of effort in engaging me in witty banter and extending an invitation to a screening he was having the very next day. I decided the ball was in my court to show my interest and put fourth some effort.

I had given him my information so he emailed me with the details regarding the screening. I conned my good friend Robin into being my wingman for the night (bless you Robin, I still owe you for this one!).

We headed to North Hollywood for a screening of what looked to be a very....interesting(?) short. Little did we know what we were in for.

Let me start by sharing with you one of the films we had to sit through that evening. Two words for you, my loyal readers, "Orange Peel". I don't think I could ever do justice to describing this film to you. Or as Robin put it "it's hard to put into words the painful mix of awkwardness and trying to hold our shit together so we didn't offend all of those hardwork artist-types." But let me see if I can just run off a few of the emotions I was experiencing/thinking while watching it: awkward, uncomfortable, confused, offended, frustrated, weird, what the hell, can I leave?, nervous laughter, this is in no way helping people in this situation...

I am not willing to actually put the video up here - I don't believe I can find it in its entirety online anyway. But you can find snipets of it at the above link or here. But, really, think twice before watching.

No words.

And the worst part of this whole situation Robin and I found ourselves in was that the writer/director/producer/illustrator/EVERYTHING for this short was sitting directly behind us as it screened. We had to keep ourselves completely contained. Which was IMPOSSIBLE.

I am happy to report that Espresso's short was far and beyond the BEST one there. After the screening I felt awkward talking to him becuase of what I had been forced to watch, but then found solace in being able to say "Thank God your short was not "Orange Peel," I would never have been able to speak to you again!"

Point of the story: Make sure you know what other films are screening with yours at an event before you invite a girl your interested in to attend.

**Disclaimer: I have a great respect for the time, talent and dedication it takes to make short films. Although I realize I am being completely harsh of this film, I truly mean no disrespect. I am simply using what little critical judgement I possess to share my opinion. I believe there may be some who can understand it in a way I am uncapable of - and to them I hope it brought great fulfillment. But...the filmmakers I know - kicked the asses of every film there that night.

Sometimes it pays to have that pretty face

I have asked a few of my girlfriends what free stuff they have gotten from flirting or just plain being beautiful...these are the responses I got. Please add some of your own:

a side of veggies
free entry to a club
drinks
got a fake nail repaired because of my "beautiful face"
free ride at the state fair
a flight to Cabo San Lucas [too bad it was to visit the guy offering it...she declined]
free sweet factory candy
free fries at Ricks
ball of yarn [the guys mother ran a yarn shop]
pair of earrings [he actually took them from his sister]
free ear buds from the apple store
a hand-sketched drawing of Jesus Christ
a tapestry
a pound of beef jerky

What have YOU gotten (or given...)?

Please stop talking to me

How about another story from Charissa? She is always good for a great story. This one is rather complexing - I can't tell whether these guys were hitting on her or not - they put in an awful lot of effort for no follow through...read on. To read Cha's first story CLICK HERE.

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scene:
fall 2006. pasadena. peet's coffee and tea. i'm sitting outside, studying one afternoon...

this older guy, late 30/40s, caucasian, walks by me, and stops next to my table. he looks as if he is about to ask a question. thinking that maybe he wants the extra chair at my table, i look up and smile politely (mistake)... and he asks,

"what nationality are you?"

for those who don't know me: i'm chinese, but i tend to get mistaken for filipino/southeastasian/

mexican/hawaiian/etc, and often get asked these types of questions, "where are you from? were you born here? wow, you look so exotic, what are you? are you from the philipines? are you native american because you look like it, do you want to be in my native american film project?"...from complete strangers. so i'm pretty jaded when it comes to these questions and i'm sure i sounded annoyed when i answered,

"american"

he seemed to be a little caught off guard by my answer, but catches himself and says,

"oh.. like, filipino-american?"

then he proceeds to talk to me for a good ten minutes, asking me questions about my ethnicity, showing off his extensive knowledge of asian culture: he likes dim sum! goes to hawaii a lot because of work and is exposed to asian culture! loves sushi! loves asian food!

and then...he asks what i'm studying and then about mft and fuller theological seminary,

"so.. this place does more than just prepare people to be bishops?"

and then...he asks where i'm from and even after i say the bay area, still tries to see if i'm from china mainland or taiwan (like i said, i'm from the bay area).

and then...he asks how old i am and then says,

"i assume you've had many marriage proposals"

and then...he asks if i have a boyfriend (to which i respond YES, a blatant lie) and asks me about the boyfriend

and then...he asks if i've lived overseas and when i said no, he asks surprisingly,

"oh, so you were born here?" (ok seriously. why is it always assumed that i am not born in the US of A?)

and then... he asks if my favorite drink is a cosmopolitan (because... what? all young, hip women drink cosmos? a la sexandthecity? huh?)

and then... he asks where my name, "charissa" originates from (i tell him it's greek), he says,

"its greek? oh, so like greek mythology? and it means greece? like the country?"

"no, not the country, i said grace, "it means grace. g-r-a-c-e.

as he's talking to me the entire time... i never ask a question, never offer a seat... he just keeps asking question after question. finally, he leaves. just ends the convo and leaves. maybe he got the hint when i kept looking down at my book, not fully engaging in this conversation.

a little less than an hour later....
there was a man sitting at the next table over, had work and stuff he was doing... he looked late 30s/ 40s; jewish, maybe. he gets up, as if to go inside the store.. and as he walks by me, he says,

"wow, i was noticing how you flip the pen around your fingers! that is amazing!"

so yes, a habit of mine is that i tend to flip pencils/pens around my fingers. it's...not as cool as this guy is making it sound.

"yeah, i see you studying hard, and able to do that with the pen. i mean, if there was an olympic event for that, you'd win"

oh wow. that...was pretty lame. and with a sympathy laugh, "...thanks."

there is some awkward small talk.. and he starts to walk off. but, i notice that he doesn't walk far, and then he's stopped... as if he is debating something. he comes back over to me, and asks...

"so... what are you studying?

are you kidding me? so i have this conversation again...

"psychology... mft...fuller..."

he's asking me a lot of questions about school, fuller, and then he says,

"im sorry, this is weird standing over you, do you mind if i sit down... i know you're studying.. so...."

UH. before i could really answer, he pulls out the chair, sits, gets all comfortable, crossing his legs, etc... and just starts to talk.. about mft, psychology, religion. and i'm... just wondering, universe? what is happening to me today? of course, i'm polite in the conversation and after a few minutes... he seems to gets the hint that i don't really want to talk to him, as i keep looking down at my notes/book. finally, he says something about me having to study and he gets up to go back to his own table.

ok. so maybe they weren't actually hitting on me, but seriously people, what is it about me and my i-look-like-im-still-in-high-school-face and my junior-high-boy-body that attracts these older men to start conversation with me?

Probably toasted

My roommate Erika and I were walking out of Vive after a good night of salsa dancing when we were approached by an attractive Indian man with a British accent just walking down the street with his headphones in.
As he passed Erika he looked at her and said, “you look REALLY beautiful tonight”

[The following takes place in a matter of three minutes]

Erika: You look really familiar, do I know you?
V: What? (removing headphones from ears) Yeah, you totally look familiar to me too. (lie. Good one, but a lie).
Erika: Where are you from?
V: I’m Indian, I’m from fuckin’ India.
Erika: Noooo, (giggle) I mean do you live in Pasadena?
V: For like a thousand years probably [British accent is fading in and out]
V: We should go get a cocktail right now.
Erika: Oh, I don’t know about that. We are just headed home. [Erika points at Yeti who kind of can’t believe this whole interaction is taking place]
V: Ohhhhh, riiiiiight, you’ve gotta work. I’ve gotta fuckin’ work in the morning too.
Erika: Where do you work?
V: Right there at city hall. [points behind him to where the Pasadena City Hall….kind of…is]
Erika: what do you do?
V: I’m an architect. [I am now worried about the structural integrity of our new City Hall]
Erika: That’s really cool.
V: (Turns to Yeti) What do you do?
Yeti: I work for….(cut off)
V: Come one let’s just grab a fuckin’ cocktail.
Yeti: How bout you give us your number and we’ll call you some other time to grab a drink [SEE readers, I am learning to GET the number NOT give it!]
V: You won’t fuckin’ call.
Yeti: But what if we do?
V: You all say that.
Yeti: Well, just try us and give us the number.
Erika: well, since you are so adamant we won’t call, we probably will.
V: (turns his head to the sky, as if looking to the Lord) Oh, so that's how it works?
Erika: Are you sure you need a cocktail tonight? Where did you just come from?
V: I was in Hollywood one day last week.
[Erika and Yeti…exchanging confused look….]

[V Starts going through his wallet (we assume trying to look for a business card) but then pulls out his license and shows it to us.]
V: Look, this is me, I’m serious, I’m a good guy.
Yeti: Yeah, you have a nice smile.
V: Yeah, it’s a great smile.
Yeti: Look, you’re an organ donor – you’re for sure a nice guy.
V: Yeah, why would I fuckin’ keep these things when I’m gone. In fact (giggle, giggle) I feel pretty bad (giggle, giggle) for whoever gets my liver when I kick it (giggle, giggle).
[Erika and Yeti courteous/nervous laughter]
V: (looking toward Erika) Seriously, you are beautiful, where are you from?
Erika: Whittier
V: No, but like, Mexico or something?
Erika: My parents are.
V: (Turns to Yeti) You’re pretty too, where are you from?
Yeti: Umm, Illinois.
V: Ah yeah, Chicago and shit.
V: I am moving to Chicago in a year for grad school intenational relationations U of Chi. [imitates as if smoking weed].
Yeti: So you plan to study a lot?
V: Well, yeah, and blues and jazz and shit.
Yeti: See, if you give us your number now – we could call you then as well when we are back in Chicago for Christmas.
V: I don’t have any business cards.
Yeti: You could just give it to us and we could put it in our phone.
V: Um, Ok 530…that’s the area code, I used to live in San Francisco…530
Erika: You lived in San Franscico? I love it there
V: Yeah, dude, that is a fuckin’ great city!
Yeti: (turning toward Erika) Please don’t distract him – he needs to just get this out.
Erika: Oh, yeah (giggle) sorry.
V: 530…. [moments that feel like hours later we have the number]
Yeti: OK, we will give you a call sometime.
V: Really? Cause, actually, you probably shouldn't. You don’t want to know me (giggle, giggle).
Erika: giggle giggle giggle…k, walk safe!

Yeti and Erika: OK, we are SO going to call that guy!!

Get to the point already

As lived and retold by my friend, Charissa. Enjoy:

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scene:
borders bookstore, i'm sitting on a windowsill, browsing through a book. a man approaches me. he's maybe in his late 20s, dressed like he's coming from work, attractive (but not my type of attractive. i like cuteindiehipsters...he's more business-smooth).

him: excuse me, can i ask you a question?
me: sure (great. which one is he going to ask - where are you from? where were you born? what nationality are you?)
him: well, tell me what you think about this. is it wrong if a girl starts dating her best friend's ex-boyfriend?"
me: (entirely caught off guard) i'm sorry, what? say that again?

he repeats the scenario. i respond.

him: well, let me also ask you this. my friend has this girlfriend and she never lets him see us. we don't hang out with him anymore because she doesn't let him. what should i do? do i say something? i don't want to hurt my friend's feelings.

random, right? i assume that this guy is trying to hit on me, but not entirely sure where this is actually going. or why he's asking me this question? because i'm pretty sure i do not exude "relationship expert, ask me for advice." if anything, he should be paying me since i guess am trying to make a living off of this. HA.

i answer with some generic, basic advice...blahblah. and then i wait. is...he now gonna ask for my number? or...does he want to give me some context for why he asked them? ...and nothing. he asks me about the book i'm reading and then thanks for me for my time and leaves.

the hell? so i continue to browse through my book.

five minutes later, he comes back.
him: hey, help me find a book?
me: uh, sure?
he walks over to the psych/self-help/relationship section...
me: what type of book are you looking for?
him: i don't know...something in psychology. in this section
me: is....there something more specific? why are you wanting to find a book?
him: you seem like you would know some good books, what should i read?

i'm still confused at this point. but, i'm going with it. and the conversation is friendly, flirty. simply cuz... i am a flirt. i start pointing out a bunch of books that i've read (mostly for my mft classes). and so, it comes up that i went to school for counseling, that i just graduated...blahblah.
him: so what do you do now, that you graduated?
me: look for a job.
him: oh, so you're not working now?
me: nope. i'm a lady of leisure (if that doesn't attract a boy, i don't know what will)

then, all of a sudden,
him: whats your favorite color? (HUH?)

i answer. then he asks me what my favorite animal is. and then to name a body of water. and maybe one other question, i don't remember. i oblige. THEN, he asks me to describe three reasons why each answer is my favorite.
him: three reasons, why do you like the hippopotamus?
me: uh. i...like the word itself and that the plural is hippopotami. (yeah...i'm a nerd) and did you know that a group of hippos is called a bloat? a bloat of hippopotami. i learned that by doing a crossword puzzle. i like crossword puzzles. (again, if that doesn't attract a boy...)

so we go through this long thing of me describing my answers half-assedly. cuz really? this conversation is lame. and then he proceeds to tell me what my answers say about me and how people see me.

HAHA. WHAT. was he doing? assessing me? giving me some sort of personality test? is this eharmony, in real life? will he ask me out depending on my answers? is this what this whole thing has been all along?

finally, he says he has to leave for work soon.
him: so...how.... do we continue this conversation? (and ok, THERE IT IS, what he's been working toward this entire time)
me: i don't know... the ellipses here conveys my tone of voice and facial expression of giving him the opportunity to directly ask for my contact info, or to say well let's get coffee, or SOMETHING. because i am just not just gonna give homeboy my number if he is not going to be bold and actually ask me. no games here. and i would have given it to this guy even though i was not super attracted to him (let's remember folks, will date for food).

him: oh. uh... well...maybe i'll see you here again? (uh, THAT'S what you follow up with?)
me: sure?
him: well are you here often? i've never seen you here before
me: uh. how often do you come here? (is this a regular thing for him, scoping out the chicks at borders?)
him: maybe about twice a week...

and then there was a kind of weird awkward...big-gulps-huh?-welp-see-ya-later moment...
and we parted ways.

look. it's simple, really. sometimes you don't need to come up with some grand scheme to talk to a girl. just ask her out.

The I try too hard guy

We all know this guy, the guy that pushes his product a little too hard. By the end of the night all you want to say is “I realize you are God’s gift to womankind but I am a bit overwhelmed and never want to talk to you again!”

A friend of mine encountered such a man at a wedding she was at the other weekend. Let’s recap some of his best attempts:

He was applying for his MFA in Photography and mentioned three of the best schools in the area you could go to for a MFA saying “these are really the only ones I am applying for.”

My friend mentioned yoga and this man then proceeded to go into the crow and pushed up into a handstand. For those of you who do not know yoga, this means he is ridiculously strong. Ridiculous. My friend wasn’t even talking to him – he just overheard a conversation she was having.

At one point in the evening (since he was like a little puppy following her around) she offered him a cigarette – he politely declined, but of course could not just say no. Instead, he said, “I will have to decline, not that I’m a prude, it’s just I am running 20 miles tomorrow.”

She told him she was going to Amsterdam so he starts speaking to her in Dutch.

When everyone started dancing at the wedding he created space around him and all out started popping and locking.

When she said goodbye to him he said goodbye to her in Africans

He was not trying to carry a conversation with her at all; he was basically trying to tell her how great he was. He did not ask her a single question about herself although he appeared very interested in her since he was watching her all night and following her around.

The teller

The other day I was running an errand for a friend – this involved depositing a check in a bank which was not my own. I walked into the bank hoping this would not be an issue and thus a very short errand in my busy afternoon.

Having gathered the essential details regarding the transaction I approached the [young and quite attractive African-American] teller.

Yeti: I am really hoping you can help me with this
Teller: What do we have here?
Yeti: You see, I am not actually a member of your bank, but I need to make a deposit for someone else.
Teller: Well, I am sure I can help a pretty girl like you out [wink]
Yeti: [smile] Thank you.
Teller: Why is it YOU aren’t a member of this bank?
Yeti: Because I already have a bank?
Teller: That's a shame. With the all the financial crisis that is going on as of late are you sure they are going to take care of you and last for the long run? Because we are one of the strongest banks around today and a really good bank to be at.
Yeti: Really? Is the bank good to its employees as well?
Teller: Oh yes, I love working here. And if you joined this bank I would personally be sure to take good care of you [wink]
Yeti: Well, that’s very nice – but I think I will have to stick with my bank for just now. But I'll will be sure to let you know if I change my mind.
Teller: You do that. You’re deposit is all taken care of. You have a good day and come back and see me soon when you change your mind [wink].

You're single as...well, single

Like I said…guys pick-up lines are just getting better and better. Here’s another example that happened to a friend of mine [did you all read that? This did NOT happen to me, so although it is told in first person – cause my friend sent it to me – it is not my story…OK…let’s get to it]:

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I went to a good friends wedding and was having a great time. Across the room I saw Wedding Crasher, I knew him from church growing up but had not seen him in quite some time. Wedding Crasher is HOT [like, walk into an Abercrombie they're putting him in the catalog HOT] but he was the guy who went to church camp solely for the girls, you know, the kind who would try to sneak away with someone during the campfire or the night game. Wedding Crasher is the guy who goes to weddings just to scope out the single girls.

I was dancing with the only other single and eligible girls at the wedding, and we all just rolled our eyes at Wedding Crasher before then accepting his request for a dance. I enjoyed a couple harmless dances with him before the time came for the exit of the bride and groom. And almost as if Wedding Crasher had been cued, at the time of the exit, he walked up to me…

Wedding Crasher: "So, you're single as fuck
Me: "Uh..." [cuz I suppose this is partially true]
Wedding Crasher: [slips hand around friend’s waist] "And you're looking pretty good tonight."
Me: "Ha..." [but this is unquestionably true]
Wedding Crasher: "And chances are you'll probably make out with somebody tonight.
Me: "Oh yeah?" [and by now I'm just curious...]
Wedding Crasher: "And that somebody will probably be me."

Wedding Crasher is not one for subtlety. And I like subtlety in a man...so instead of going to a random party to make out that night I found myself driving home, 2 hours in the opposite direction of that horny boy.

Just let me do my job

Shall we share another funny hit-on story? This friend of mine doesn’t even need to be SEEN to get hit on…

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Mid-afternoon phone call:

Caller: Hi, I'd like to pay my matriculation fee over the phone.
Friend: OK, sure! Let me just pull up your file here...[pause]...oh yes...I believe we've actually spoken before!
Caller: Yes! Do you recognize my voice because you thought my voice was cute?
Friend: [???!!! nervous laughter ???!!!] Well, I actually don’t think in those terms anymore since I've gotten married...
Caller: Oh, well, since you are married, you can be more objective now!
Friend: [more nervous laughter] You know - I just don't think in those terms!
Caller: Oh well [he proceeds to tell me credit card number and then confirms that the matriculation fee is $100]
Friend: Actually, the matriculation fee is only $50 for your program.
Caller: Did I get a discount because my voice is cute?
Friend: hehehe - NO - the program fee is just $50 - for everyone.

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On second thought…maybe this boy just had low self-esteem, I am SURE you had a very cute voice weird man. :)

The doctors office

Want to know where a BAD place to meet people is? A doctor’s office. You’re coughing, probably with some contagious disease, I feel like crap – neither of us is putting out our best game. Let’s just hope fate brings us together at a Starbucks or bar some other time cause you ain’t gunna get much out of me right now.
And let’s face it, guys are really bad at reading signs and cues normally – but they are even worse at a doctor’s office. See this magazine I am holding up in front of my face? This means I want you to get away from me and stop talking to me. And when I am crunched over like this it means I don’t feel well. I don’t normally wear my sweats out in public, this is just the first time I have been out of the house all day and the thought of putting on jeans just seemed like more effort then I wanted to give.
Why do the waits at these offices have to be so long?

Creepy Party Guy

I went to a party a while ago where I knew no one other then the birthday girl. She is a good friend of mine and I love her to death so I really wanted to make an appearance even though I don’t generally love these kinds of situations. The party was going great until I met "The Hunter.” He was awkward and tried to make jokes and sweat a lot and would not take a hint and leave me alone. No matter where I went in the various rooms he would follow me around. I can’t say I blame him, I was looking pretty HOT! But I ended up leaving the party around 9:00p because I could not take him anymore. I had dodged giving him my number three times (!) and had him trying to go salsa dancing with me the next evening. Get a clue dude.
It is always sad when you put all this effort into getting dressed up to enjoy a party and have to leave by 9:00p because some guy won’t stop following you. Luckily Ipp met me for drinks and the whole evening did not go to waste.
Since this time I have been invited to several parties/gatherings that I notice this gentleman has also been invited to. And I just think it is a shame that every time he RSVP’s yes to a party I am pretty sure I will no longer be interested in going. I just don't think the party of a mutual friend is the place to come on so strongly. Feel it out, sure - but when she starts running away from you and making excuses like "they probably don't have any pens here" when you ask her for her number, GIVE UP!

Would you dance with me…forever

Two girls are out for a night on the town.
The activity of choice? Salsa.
Destination? The Granada.

Girls enter club and maneuver their way to the other side of the dance floor. Squints immediately spots the girls and makes his way over to their standing area. The girls dance several dances with strange older men when Squints finally gets up the nerve to ask one of them to dance.

The following conversation takes place while dancing:
Squints: So, are you here alone tonight?
Friend: No, I’m here with my friend Yeti. [she later realizes he was probably referring to a date/boy/fiancée/husband type of alone…nevertheless, we move on]
Squints: Are you single?
Friend: Yes, but…er…um…[I am working on teaching her how to lie better in these situations – although her extreme discomfort should have been a real clue to him]
Squints: What do you think the chances are of a guy like me hooking up with a girl like you?
Friend: Um….that’s a really hard question. Uh….er….

The two continue dancing as my friend fumbles over her words a bit and contemplates how to best handle the awkwardness that are these questions. Squints spins her around and then into himself.

Squints: You know, you can dance closer to me.
Friend: Uh….er…I’ve only had one dance class.

After this rather awkward dance our poor Squints tries to dance with her several more times. She eventually has to tell him she needs to sit out a few dances and rest in order to get rid of him. Gotta give it to him for putting it out there and going for what he wants. Bold Moves!

Bold Moves

When men attempt bold gestures – break out the bold moves, it is considered romantic
[well, as long as the girl is interested…otherwise it is considered stalking, read more here].
When women do it…it is considered desperate. What’s with that?

Highway Man

I work with some amazing people. Really. That is part of the reason I love my job so much. Among these amazing people I work with are some really fun single girls I love to study, go to coffee shops, salsa dance, and just chat with. THIS is a priceless story from the beautiful and wonderful Danielle that I just could not pass up sharing. I’m thinking beginnings of a screenplay…

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Today I learned that there are benefits to the insane traffic in Los Angeles after all. While sitting in grid lock frustration, traveling at a speed of about three miles and hour (literally) I started looking around at the people in the cars around me. I realized that at that particular time in the existence of our lives we all had something in common. We were all tired (it was close to 1 a.m.), frustrated, and unaware of what was causing the backup. When that sort of thing happens you can't help but get the urge to form an alliance or fellowship of some kind. It's like you almost want to start up random conversations with people who are next to you picking their noses. At first I had my music on really loud and tried to dance my way through the traffic torture. Then I decided to turn it down to see what others around me were listening to. I was actually trying to see if anyone around me was listening to music I'd like, because maybe they would be people I like.

As I was trying to listen, an attractive man pulls up next to me and there was a woman who I presume was either his wife or girlfriend sleeping in the passenger seat. The man began giving me the "eye." Not the evil eye, but the "I want to get in your pants" eye. I in turn gave him the "you're a disgusting pig, I would never give your old, disrespecting ass the time of day" eye and kept driving.

I then resorted back to my music for comfort. A little Lily Allen, then some Wyclef, then back to Lily Allen again. The music was good but I really wanted to call someone on the phone and complain about L.A. traffic. The only person I thought who might be up was my brother (and he's on the east coast!) so I called him. While I was trying to explain the depth of traffic on the 101 to my brother who seemed more interested in his chicken salad with raspberry dressing, another guy pulls up on my right in a little white sporty number and out of the corner of my eye I see and feel him looking at me. I look over to test my peripheral vision, and this dude is blowing kisses at me. WTF? Who does that? He wasn't my type and the whole scenario kind of made me laugh so I just kept driving and shared with my brother what was going on. He insisted that I have some fun with it and suggested I traffic kiss him back. I wasn't into the idea so much.

After hanging up with my brother, I went back to the music. This time it was Alicia Keys. The music was pumpin’, I was getting my dance on at the steering wheel, and before you know it, along comes this hot black car, with this hot black man in the drivers seat. He pulled up next to me as far as he could and smiled. I couldn't totally see him because he was kind of behind my car so I was trying to look back to get a better view. Then he got a chance to pull up closer and we played this little cat and mouse game; looking, smiling, catching up to each other as the traffic moved at different speeds in each lane. So cute. Then at one point I got a good look into the car I realized there was a woman asleep in his car too!!! WWWWTTTTFFFF? I mean really guys. Is it not even safe for women to sleep anymore? Is that how determined you are to mow the grass in other pastures? Anyway, sorry to say that the guy was a little too cute for me to care, especially when he mouthed "WHAT IS YOUR PHONE NUMBER?” To which I replied, using my fingers, 412-818.... As I "signed" my phone number he typed it into his phone while his date continued to sleep like a log in the passenger seat. Part of me justified it by considering that both of them were dressed like they just went out or were about to go out, and she was fast asleep. That's kind of rude, don't you think? After I gave the guy my phone number he mouthed, "I AM GOING TO CALL YOU." I just waved and smiled and as his lane started moving I watched him drive off into the sea of red tale lights wondering if he'd ever actually call, or if it was just a fun little party action among commuters.

About 45 minutes later I get a call on my cell from a 310 area code. I knew it was him. I was so tempted to play that "I am not going to answer the phone” game...followed by the "I am going to see if he leaves a message” game, but I didn't. I picked up the phone and our conversation went a little something like this:


Me: "Hello"

Him: "Um, hi, uh, this is the guy you gave your phone number to in the black infinity on the 101."

Me: "Hello guy I gave my phone number to in the black infinity on the 101, how are you?" (I am so witty)

Him: "So where are you?"

Me: "I am at home."

Him: "Can I come over and properly introduce myself?"

Me: "Are you crazy?"

Him: "No why?"

Me: "It's 2 o'clock in the morning, and you're a stranger who asked for my number while you had a chick in your car. 

Him: "Oh she is a long story, and I don't normally do this!"

Me: "If I had a nickel for every time I heard THAT!"

Him: "hahaha. Well, what should I do, can I meet you sometime?"

Me: "Sure"

Him: "When"

Me: "How about tomorrow?"

Him: "Sounds great. I'll come out your way. You're worth it. Oh wait, what's your name?"

yada yada yada. 



So thanks to traffic on the 101, I have a brunch date tomorrow.

The "We"

When should a guy [or I guess a girl for that matter] need to mention the fact that he is a "we"?

On the one hand you don't want a guy to mention it too soon, there is no need for that. You know, the "easy fella, I was just asking if that seat next to you was free."

But on the other hand you don't want to spend a whole afternoon with him on that not-really-a-date-but-a-date sort of thing and then at the end of it hear the "yeah, my girlfriend and I blah blah blah" or something to that effect. Seriously? You could have mentioned that a little earlier. I realize it was only a couple hours – but I was investing. I don’t just turn it on for fun…

And it is even worse when this is over a series of interactions whether in class or hang outs or bump ins or what-have-yous. Then you get hit with the girlfriend line at about the 26th interaction and you start doubting your "flirt radar" – how could I have misinterpreted things so greatly?

I realize the “we” doesn’t define you [at least I hope so] but if it’s going to get you in trouble or prevent you from making out with me it might be worth mentioning.

Gorgeous Eyes

I was trying to be a good little disciplined girl on Saturday and study hard. I went to one of my favorite café’s in Pasadena to read and write for a while. [And I was quite productive if I do say so myself…*pat on the back*]

On my way out of the café I ran into a guy on the street selling candy bars. My best guess is that it was for his high school? I don’t know – I am probably the worst judge of age ever. That’s why I go for guys with receding hair lines – then I know I am not accidentally going for a 17 year old. 17 is the new 25…you can’t tell anymore. Or is it 30 is the new 17 cause that is how old they act? I digress.

Anyway, he asked if I would buy one. I probably should have. They're like, what, $2? But I decided to stick to my guns and hold firm to “NO” despite his persistence. And then he proceeded to tell me what gorgeous eyes I have. What is it with African-American men/boys telling me I have gorgeous eyes? What do they think I am some sort of sucker?? [I am.] I was not going to fall for that one again like I did with Sweet P. He was a guy I met a few weeks ago on Hollywood Blvd. while he was selling CD's.



















Here he is while he signs the CD he just sweet-talked me into buying. All cause he liked my eyes. I don't EVER listen to that CD. I am already out $10 for a CD…I didn’t want to be out for chocolate too [although…I probably would have eaten that]

It's a Secret

There was an interesting boy I went out with for a bit when I first moved to CA. He went to Fuller but I first met him at the church I was attending at the time. We met at an informational lunch because we were both looking to work with the college students at the church – it must be real. From there we began to hang out a bit more. It wasn’t until about 6 months later though that things really started clicking. He pursued me to hang out a bit more, would call me more and text me quite often.
Then…the night I was stupid happened [unfortunately, this is only one example of a night I was stupid. But, alas, read on.] Remember how I am bad at texting? Well…I should have learned from this incident but apparently I did not. I had just been talking to a male friend of mine about this boy and how I could not really feel him out. I thought maybe he was interested but sometimes he talked to me about other girls…what? Why would he do that? And apparently sometimes boys do that to “feel a girl out” – I don’t get it. But…ok. Right after I got off the phone with this friend the boy called me! We chatted a bit and it was nice. So I decided to fill this friend in – I sent him a text
“Speak of the devil guess who just called? But he told me he is going to meet that girl this weekend. Why would he tell me that? I think I am falling into the friend zone.”
I waited…I waited…nothing. Usually this friend answers back really fast. So I check my sent messages to see if it went through. Well, apparently since this boy I had a crush on was on my mind…I SENT IT TO HIM! Oops!
Now…to this day he still claims he never got it. I don’t believe him. How could he have gotten every single other text I have ever sent him and not this ONE? Fishy.
Anyway, my apologizing [when apparently there was nothing to apologize for] lead to a conversation late one Thursday night at Lucky Baldwins. And he decided he wanted to give dating a try…but keep it a SECRET.
I can’t really explain to you how he still got me to “date” him for a few weeks when this was the line he hit me with. I am really not a stupid girl – but then again…
I don’t really think you can say we ever dated when he didn’t want anyone to know. And if his roommate ever called when we were out he would say, “I’m out with a buddy.” Hmmm. Needless to say that didn’t last too long. He told me I was really flirty with other guys and it drove him crazy and he didn’t feel like he could trust me. I’m not going to say if he was right or wrong – I’m just going to say if you want to keep the fact that we are dating a secret…I’m gunna play the part ☺