And they call her………………….THE SABOTAGER.

“Stop sabotaging your dates”. If you’re a fellow single, chances are that you’ve also been hearing (and denying) this one for years. And perhaps subconsciously, within our own realm of the definition, we are in fact committing dating sabotage. Let me share with you one of my classic dating stories and you can judge for yourself if:

a) I’m a sabotager   

b) You too, are a sabotager         or

c) Our friends should just go stick it up their ass!

It’s the end of a drunken bar crawl...I look over and see my friend making out with a guy.  A few feet away I’m chatting with his friend who’s wasted and keeps buying us shots. IT’S TIME TO GO HOME. In order to get out of there, I give this finance asswipe my number and leave. The next morning (a few hours later) I wake up to 5 missed calls and 11 texts from this douche. A little persistent, aye?

 I barge into the living room and ask my roommate “who the hell is this stalker from last night??” (Her memory was always better than mine).  Hmmm….she nonchalantly grabs a pen, a napkin and starts drawing what can only be described as a Herman Munster stick figure. “WTF, are you serious,” I say?? “Ok maybe his forehead wasn’t really thaaattttt big,” she chuckles.  “Just go out with him, what do you have to lose?” “Are you crazy—LISTEN to these messages—why would I go out with this freak??” I say. “Because you haven’t been on a date in AGES,” she reminds me “at the very least it will make for a good story….just consider it practice” (love when people say this one). Rusty yes…desperate no…but “OK, FINE!” I say.

I pick a bar that I’m familiar with for the dreaded encounter, a “safe place” so to speak. I get there a few minutes early because other than the stick figure napkin sketch in my pocket, I had NO idea what this guy looked like. I walk towards the back of the bar looking for a place to sit and this SEXY Latino reaches his arms out and says “Heeyyyy—wanna do a shot with us?” “Ummm…….what??” I smirk. “Do I know you?” I say. “No…but do you like whiskey?” “Uh, HELL YEA, I do!” (Why couldn’t this guy be my date?!) Loving this sexy Latino and his drunk friends, I quickly confide how I was there for a blind date to meet some guy who seemed like a total douchebag (come on—I couldn’t tell him it was really just beer goggles!). We throw back whiskeys and are having a grand ‘ol time when all of a sudden I feel a creepy tap on my shoulder. Like a geeky dad breaking up the cool kid’s party….it was HIM. Stalker finance asswipe in the flesh and he was WORSE than I could have imagined. I cringe. He looks at me confused and I tell him I just happened to bump into these old friends who bought me a shot. He looks skeptical but nevertheless, we mosey to the bar.

Within 5 minutes this guy has bragged about his job, his apartment and all of his other riches, and has tried to stick his tongue down my throat which I have successfully  dodged like a flying bullet. REALLY?! The bartender gives me a sympathetic glance.  I head straight for the bathroom and start bbm’ing all of my friends. I need an exit plan—STAT. I start explaining that I have to leave soon for a birthday party—“Great” he says, “I’ll come with you.” Ugh, I was a prisoner—I knew he was NOT going to let me out of there alone! The Latino stops by on his way out with his friends. “Nice meeting you he says as he shakes my hand which slyly (or not so slyly) has his business card inside. Asswipe vexed “I thought he was an old friend.” “Umm…what?” I can’t be bothered-ly mutter as I stare at my Latino walking out the door. ”Ohhh, yea….I meant the other one was”—he didn’t buy it but whatever, at least I got the Latinos number, score!  All I could think about was getting out of there to meet my friends.

I chug my drink AS FAST as I can. And then it happens. By the grace of God, asswipe gets a phone call. I give him a dirty look as he picks it up—because by now I totally detest him. “I’ll be right back, I need to take this outside,” he says. This is IT—my window of opportunity to escape!  I grabbed my clutch and bee-lined for the door. He’s right there, still on the phone and looks at me shaking his hands up in the air in disbelief like—WHAT?! I start a mild jog and wave, shouting “GOTTA GO, BYE—THANKS FOR THE DRINK!!” I meet my friends at a bar down the street. As I start telling them the horror story that just occurred, a hot guy grabs my arm. It’s someone that I went to college with.  He starts flirting with me with his weeping willow eyes. We make out like we should have when we were in college. I can feel my phone buzzing from texts from my new Latino. This rainy night was salvageable after all.

My friend was right, it WAS good to go out and give it a chance—it DID make for a story! I don’t know what it is but it’s like men can smell each other and when you are out with one the others all want a piece of the action. Well, the same is true for this gal. When I’m out with one guy, ALL I want is to talk to EVERY other guy in the room. So while you might question whether this was actually a sabotage since I didn’t like the asswipe in the first place the truth is….if you replace this story with a guy that I actually DO like I’m afraid not much of the rest of it would change!

Until next time …

***Don't forget to add me on facebook: www.facebook.com/sergeantsassy

 

SWF seeking medium sized balls…

I LOVE BALLS. There, I said it. The problem is that I don’t like all balls and let’s face it, there’s quite a variety of these suckers out there. Let’s do a brief recap, shall we? There are big balls, small balls, firm balls, saggy balls, light balls, dark balls, blue balls, bouncy balls, the one ball, the three ball (not actually sure about this but figured I’d throw it in), smelly balls, hairy balls, sweaty balls, goofy balls, bruised balls, salty balls, low hanging balls, prickly balls, sensitive balls…the list goes on and on, do you catch my drift? 

For the purpose of this exercise let’s keep things simple and focus on the size and character of these balls. Now, in my humble experience our population is overcrowded with two specific categories of men—those who have small, wimpy, weepy balls—and those who have big, giant, barbaric balls. As you can imagine…this creates a great unbalance in the dating universe that forces those with more average, normal—regular if you will—nuggets from bursting through the pack.  

Let’s dive deeper, shall we. Some women may think there’s no way to discern the size of a man’s family jewels until they are dangling smack in front of your face.  Well, I beg to differ. I challenge you to pay attention to these blatant warning signs that will help you determine early on which ones you’re juggling with so you can decide which are worth making your own.

How to tell when a man’s suffering from tiny balls syndrome:

He thinks you’re cute but can’t approach you

He asked for your number but doesn’t call

He is too intimidated by you to date you

He likes you but is afraid to tell you (this is diff than above)

You’ve gone on 5 dates and he still hasn’t tried to kiss you

You’ve been dating for months and he still hasn’t met (or attempted to meet) your friends

He won’t be the 1^st (or only) guy in his pack to have a girlfriend or wife

He settles with an unhappy, unfulfilling relationship—because it’s easy

When he falls in love, he runs away from it

He cheats

How to tell when a man’s suffering from gigantic balls syndrome:

You just met and he’s already calling you at 3am

For your first date, he takes you to his ‘regular spot’ (where everyone knows his name and all his previous dates have also suffered—which also happens to be a block from where he lives)

He suggests you go back to his place after said first date

If you don’t go for that, he tries to ‘sext’ after this first date

He continues to booty call you, even though you don’t respond

No really, he won’t stop texting, even though you don’t respond and it’s now months later…

He has a gf/wife and is still trying to get in your pants

You are completely out of his league and he approaches you anyway

He takes you out for a drink and a ‘tapa’ and expects to get some

He wants to do a drive-by after he just got some a#@ from another girl

He charmingly, yet aggressively keeps asking for nude pics (wtf already!)

He doesn’t put the toilet seat down before he leaves in the morning

Sigh, that was exhausting. What happened to all of the guys in the middle—you know, with medium the sized balls? The ones who aren’t afraid of their feelings and know how to court a woman in a purposeful, classy kind of way? The ones who aren’t afraid to do the right thing and to take a little chance even if it meant they might get hurt once in a while. Guys—we know you’re still out there getting knocked around by all the other haphazard balls—but really, so are we!  Until then….we will continue on the conquest for the just right, medium sized balls. Now THAT would be a happy ending!