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

 

Blame Canada.

There’s something about NYC that just gives me that itch sometimes. The nightlife is bustling, there’s an exciting rhythm that makes me want to stay out and be a part of it—EVERY night, ALL night long. As you can imagine, this sometimes leads to crazy, fun, wild, bad decisions.  

I went out to dinner with a male friend of mine. I had a stressful day so I enjoyed a strong, fancy pre-dinner tequila cocktail while I waited for him at the bar. We sat down to eat and shared a bottle of wine. We went to a nearby outdoor bar afterwards. It was a beautiful summer night with a great buzz in the air. We had a few more drinks…well I should say…I had a few more drinks. And then shots. I really hate doing shots alone but he’s one of those friends who just don’t take one for the team. Anyhoo….a little while later we called it a night and by WE, I mean HE. We said our goodbyes and I jumped in a cab. A few blocks from home I started to hear little voices in my head. I was having a conversation with myself in the back of the cab, something like—bad girl “I don’t really want to go home”  good girl “But no one’s around, it’s a bad idea” bad girl “I’m a big girl, I can just go to my local watering hole alone for one or two” good girl “ We’ve been down this road before, it’s a bad, bad, bad move, turn around right now and go to bed—you might even still be able to go to the gym tomorrow” bad girl  “That’s all you care about, is the gym. They know me there, it will be fine, nothing weird will happen, I will just take a peek inside” good girl “Haha, yea OK crazy, you’re on your own.”  Driver re-routes to bar.

I walk in the bar, everyone yells “Norm,” ok maybe they really didn’t…but you get the picture. I made the rounds saying hello to all the regulars and popped a squat at the end of the bar. I’m pretty drunk. I have no business being there, but what else am I going to do on a Tuesday night? A guy sits down a few stools next to me and I see him checking me out through the corner of my eye.  At this point I can’t be bothered because I am too preoccupied trying to catch the objects (ice cubes, lemons, cherries, etc) that the bartender is trying to throw down my shirt from across the bar (did I mention I go there a lot?). Somehow this guy at the end of the bar gets caught in the cross-fire and seizes the opportunity. Bingo, game on.  We chatted for a while. If I remembered what we talked about I would tell you—but I don’t, so I can’t, so I won’t. He walks me home—what a gentleman. Enter the black out.

Fast forward to the next morning. My bedroom looks like a crime scene. My clothes and pillows are thrown all over, there’s an open condom wrapper on the floor (safety first—NO MATTER WHAT!). Awesome. My head is pounding but at least I’m up on time for work. I go to get a glass of water. There’s a bottle of wine, a half drunken beer and a napkin on my counter. The napkin has a name and phone number on it. I’m amused. I google the area code. Canada. Blame Canada. Somehow, I get through work. The bartender bbm’s me “at least one of us got lucky last night”. “Thanks for the shots, go f**k yourself,” I reply.

I ran home after work because I had plans to go out again. Busy girl. SO HUNGOVER. There’s the napkin…still on my counter.  I text “what a hot mess last night, huh?” He replies, “yea pretty messy but at least you remember.” Me “whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about remembering?” Skip to later that night. By now I have gathered that this guy is visiting from Canada (sorry I am not always that quick, thought maybe he lived here now) and was leaving tomorrow. The curiosity, the temptation, I couldn’t resist. I had to see just how good OR bad my beer goggles were. He came over at about midnight. We had both been out drinking but not nearly as sloppy as the night before. As soon as I see his face the flashbacks start hitting. He’s cute. SHORT. Says he’s 5’7 but not joke, he’s barely 5’4. Tatoos—lots  of them. Longish hair. Turns out he’s half Italian and half Chinese. Pretty interesting mix, and incidentally my first Asian. I ask him how old he is, he says “26”. I ask if he knows how old I am, he replies “what 27 or 28”? I say yea, let’s go with that.  Cougar, cub—here we go again. He recaps the night before for me. A little more detail than I was looking for but nevertheless sounds like it was a real good time. Apparently we gave my doorman a great show if he was watching the camera on the roof. Then we moved to the bedroom.  I will save the details for my X-Rated novel that will be coming out in the fall. According to my new Canadian sweetheart, I started losing my patience with him in the bedroom about a few things so he decided to leave before it got too crazy. Ok now we are caught up—and back to the present day.  I thanked him for the wonderful bedtime story and told him I was too tired to mess around, and that we will only be cuddling until morning wood. I haven’t cuddled in a while. I forgot how annoying it can be when you REALLY need sleep and there’s a guy grunting and breathing all over you.

Like clockwork he’s ready for me to deliver on my morning promise. Once again, I will spare you with all the visuals except one that I still can’t get over. As I mentioned, this fella has tattoos. Well, one of his tattoos is on the inner underside of his arm. It’s of his Chinese grandparents. A portrait.  He’s on top of me and literally—THERE THEY ARE—I’m making eye contact with this kids CHINESE GRANDPARENTS. They are STARING at me!  I’m trying to enjoy myself but this is just creepy.  I say “dude you gotta do something about this—you’re grandparents are WATCHING US—they are looking right at me, I can’t do this”. We change positions.  He laughs and says “he never really considered the placement when he got it”.  Damn straight kid, and no joke you really should do something about that. I take a quick shower. I walk into my living room and there he is—standing in the middle of the room NAKED peering around my apartment. “You gonna put some clothes on or what,” I say. “Not yet ,” he says “I’m really comfortable naked”. “That’s great,” I say.  I sit on the couch to check the TV. This mofo slowly sits his naked, hairy, BARE ass right next to me on my nice COUCH. Are we supposed to be having a moment here?? Because really I can’t even look in his direction—I stare straight at the TV. All I can think is—ARE YOU FOR REAL?!  I got dressed as fast as I could in hopes that he would follow my lead. He tells me he loves NYC and even went to inquire about joining the NYPD but he would need a green card. I say, “well don’t get any ideas Canada, cuz I ain’t marrying ya…but I hear you can find someone for that online.” I walked him back to his hotel because it was on my way to work. I have manners. “I’ll add you on facebook,” he says. Great, another one—just what I need.

On a side note: I got lucky because this guy was a total gentleman and sweetheart but let’s be real…bad decisions sometimes lead to bad things so please be safe out there.