The Big Ugly Blog is an honest and uncensored collection of anecdotes recounting the madcap shenanigans of a perpetually 39 year old divorcee, as she wades through the mire of the murky online dating pool - ravenously searching (evidently in vain) for the man of her dreams...Keep On Dreaming, Baby!


Thursday, January 22, 2009

Enough, Already...I Give...

Today is Friday, my mostly favorite day of every bloomin' week. It seems that nothing very bad ever happens to me on Fridays and I am nearly ALWAYS in a stellar mood - today included. It's actually warm out, for the first time in what feels like an ice age. I think it's almost 60 degrees, which sure beats the pants off the brutal 9 degree mornings that we have endured here recently.

This particularly resplendent Friday morning began on a positive note. I was IM'd and then phoned by a yummy new hopeful - Matthew, who last night while we were chatting, sent me pictures of himself and I am pleased to announce that in these photos, the comely young man (but not too young) was fully clothed...well, best I could figure at least...both photos were taken from the chest up...Anyway, the fact that I had received G-Rated pics. felt promising and wholesome. The funny part was, that when I typed back to him to say how relieved I was that he hadn't sent me some enormous erection shot, I mistakenly sent the note to Big D with whom I was also chatting (Yipes! Especially since Big D HAS sent me PLENTY of photos of his ginormous johnson standing at full attention). Big D was rawther confused by my faux pas and I was so embarrassed that I halted conversation on the spot. It is kinda difficult to talk when there's a foot firmly lodged in your mouth. But speaking of Big D...have I told you the latest? Sometime earlier in the week, we were conversatin' and he quickly got into his "Do you have any idea how hard I am from looking at your pictures?" mode. Now, way back when we first started talking, I sent him a couple of well-composed humdingers, for his pleasure. Don't get me wrong, these were not like full-on crotch shots or anything, I considered them artistically suggestive really, but evidently Big D finds them terribly erotic, whatever.....Anyway, after listening to him whine and carry on about how badly he wanted the two of us to engage in all sorts of elaborately detailed sexual acts, naturally my hankerin' to finally meet the guy spiked, and once again I attempted to pin him down on a time when we could finally meet and try each other on for size. For god's sake - let's either shit or get off the pot, here! He was all like, "I want to soooooo badly" and I was like, "Well what's the freakin' hold-up?" and he was like, "Ok, when?" and I said, "How 'bout this weekend, I don't have my kids" and he said that he would be out of town over the weekend, but maybe Thursday or Friday we could meet for lunch. So I said that would be fine. Next he said, "I have something to tell you" (mmm...hmmm, think I coulda called this one...) and I said, "Ok, shoot...or should I guess?" and he said, "Why don't you guess. I think you already know what it is anyway" so I typed, "You're married" and he replied, "Bingo". Huh, well that pesky little monkey wrench could certainly make traditional dating a bit tricky, but it definitely solved the nagging mystery of why he'd been draggin' his feet so heavily about getting together all this time...duh. I quickly told him that homegirl don't play dat and he agreed that it would be a pretty shitty thing to do. Well yeah! Especially taking into account the fact that when I asked him if he was happily married he said, "Yes" and then when I asked him if he loved his wife he said, "Yes" What the hell? Sometimes I just don't get people. I mean what is this guy's problem? He has pretty much everything I am looking for (take away the actual marriage part) and he is totally taking it for granted and even willing to fuck it up, for the sake of a little nookie! Even sketchier yet is that by the end of our conversation he had actually convinced me that I should still meet him on Friday afternoon...ok, so now the question is - what the hell is MY problem?! I don't even know how I let it happen. Perhaps it was my overwhelming curiosity about him and that noteworthy baby arm sized cock of his or my increasing boredom or maybe I was just looking for something new and edgy about which to report in the blog. Had I really sunk so low though, that I was willing to jeopardize the stability of a marriage, for the sake of a provocative story? Evidently so, because by the time we said goodbye, I was all set to meet him for lunch that Friday afternoon. When I woke up the next morning, I slapped myself around a little and fortunately came to my senses about stirring that shit pot. I was cocksure that there was no way in hell that I would meet Big D for lunch or coffee or adultery or anything else...EVER! I reminded myself how crummy it felt when I discovered that Jimmy had cheated on me, and he was just some stupid, lame-o boyfriend who never gave a shit about me. Big D and his woman obviously cared enough about each other to commit - in front of god (if you believe in that sort of thing) and everyone - to be together forever, til death do them part...I could not in good conscience, potentially put another girl through something as emotionally atrocious as infidelity, there was absolutely no way. After reading a roughly 400 word short story that Big D had painstakingly written and sent to me late in the night, in which he graphically described all the f-ed up ways that he was planning on exploring the better part of my body with his mammoth member when we finally did make each other's acquaintance, I wrote him a letter apologizing for misleading him (sometimes I swear - I am just too nice) and proclaimed that it simply wasn't going to happen. He concurred by saying he was relieved to hear me say that, because he had changed his mind too (of course he had, how silly of me!) and just hadn't known how to tell me (that little tidbit was conspicuously missing from his 400 word cliffhanger)...He was a virtuous man of principle, after all, and the picture of a morally upstanding husband...HAHAHAHAHA!

So ok, back to this unseasonably balmy Friday-o-Joy...I went in to town and bought jumper cables to attempt to revive my sickly, little car (mission accomplished) and then took her to the shop and got her all squared away for the mini-road trip I was taking down to Richmond over the weekend, to visit Paul and hopefully lots of other long lost friends, with whom I had recently reconnected on my favorite networking site. I can't tell you how excited I am at the thought of filling my weekend with activities which are not entirely online dating related! Yippee!

Oh, and here's something - I got a note from Cheetah last night in which he begged off on our dinner date scheduled for tonight, claiming that he must tend to pressing issues regarding his troubled teenage daughter who I happen to know for a fact is actually locked up for bad behavior in some juvenile facility, somewhere. I politely told him not to worry about it and good luck with everything, blah blah, blah. I couldn't help but wonder though, what the heck he could possibly be doing about any of that on a Friday night...But to be perfectly honesty, I really just didn't give a rat's ass that we weren't going out again, the guy simply had not moved me the way that I was sure that he was going to, plus now I was free to meet my cute, little pixie friend Beth in town for a cocktail. The poor thing has been in a perpetual state of marital turmoil lately, and I was really glad for the opportunity to try and cheer her up a bit.

Ok, so now it's a whole week later, it's the following Friday (still sunny but icy and 20-something out) and brother do I need to get you up to speed on tricks...

Friday night I arrived at the killer new pub in town where Beth and I had planned to rendezvous. She wasn't there yet, so I stood at the bar texting her to make sure she knew where she was going. I noticed these two guys, a few seats down the bar from me. The one whose face I could see, was not attractive, but the other one looked pretty good, even though I could only see the back of his head - he had nice hair, ok? Right about the time Beth arrived, the two men stood up, I assumed because they were leaving (rats!) The not so good-looking one said good-bye to the cute one and left. The cute one then sidled up next to me, like immediately, without any hesitation, and started talking to me as if we'd known each other forever, (how handy! He had clearly homed in on my radar) it was effortless and completely natural. I liked the way that he looked. The skin on his face was phenomenally smooth and wrinkle-free and this guy is 7 years older than I am. I couldn't resist asking him if he followed some sort of age-defying regimen to keep his skin so youthful, and he bashfully shrugged shaking his head, and looking downwards "Uh...noo" Awww, such a humble guy! He was well put together, nice casual clothes and his variegated greying hair styled into a cute spikey do. He had this soothing, gentle voice mildly tinged with a touch of the classic local accent, which I liked. He was attentive and engaging and he laughed sweetly and genuinely, at my funnies but he wasn't too up in my world, right away, either. He didn't come across as overly eager or urgent, like so many guys do. Beth was sitting kind of around a corner of the bar and she kept giving me exaggerated hand and face signals which indicated that she approved and that I should go for it. I stealthily snuck glances back at her at first to say, "I don't even know this guy" and then "Ok, don't worry, I'm on it sistah!" At one point, (his name is) Bill and I were kind of leaning in towards one another discretely swapping scathing stories about local folks, and I noticed Beth leaning over on her barstool, a little bit...and then some more, not so slyly eavesdropping on the scuttlebutt when suddenly there was this horrendous crash, like an elephant had just passed out, and Beth and her barstool completely disappeared, just like that. I was like, "What the hell?!?!" She rebounded beautifully, popping right back up into position, clearly not wanting to miss any of our juicy gossip, and quickly shook off her short-lived embarrassment. It was hilarious! I could not stop laughing, one minute she was right there, tilting our way ever so slightly, the next she vanished from sight with an impressive clatter. I swear the whole place went silent, I think the music even stopped for a sec., it was like everyone was waiting to find out where the earthquake had registered on the Richter Scale. A waitress walked up to see what had happened and to make sure Beth was all right. She said that one of the diners in her section way the heck up in the front of the restaurant who heard (and probably felt) the loud thud said, "Wow, sounds like a pretty big person went down, you might wanna go check on that..."

After the hilarity of Beth's mishap faded, it was apparent that Beth just couldn't seem to shake her doldrums and all of the energy that I had meant to direct towards lifting her spirits was instead selfishly directed at shamelessly flirting with Bill. Beth decided to call it a night, and so she split and left Bill and me to focus entirely on one another. We had a surprisingly great time, talking and laughing all the way til last call, I even felt comfortable enough to tell him about the blog (gulp - must've been that snifter of single malt scotch...) As the night wound down, Bill asked if he could call me sometime and of course I said "Yes!" He was struggling to plug my numbers into his new Blackberry and I said, "Just tell me your number, I'll text you and then mine will be in your phone" I sent him a text which read, "Kiss me" When he opened it, he twittered kinda nervously so I asked if I had made him uncomfortable by being too forward, and with a sigh of relief he said, "No, definitely not..." and he leaned in and kissed me. It was a nice kiss and I told him so. I am extremely hard to please in this department but Bill had aced his first attempt. We closed the bar down, practiced kissing a few more times, said goodnight and promised to get together again...soon. Yep, true to form, it had been another FAB Friday!

I spent a ton of valuable time on Saturday morning sleeping off my hangover. I even slept under the spray of my shower until I had used up all the hot water. When I finally got my ass up and out, I had tile imprints on my forehead. I musta slept on the floor of my shower for 45 minutes or more. Jesus, I was more fucked up the night before than I had realized. Anyway, I hit the road and - my head punished by aching, swollen brain matter - and aimed my cute, little car towards Richmond, only about 3 1/2 hours later than I had originally planned. After 2 1/2 hours of only semi-lucid driving, I pulled into town and then up to Paul's house and was absolutely elated to see him appear in the doorway and then greet me with a giant bear hug! We hastily set off to find me a get-well bloody mary and some tasty victuals and so commenced a wonderful reunion weekend - no romance, just lots of art and music and laughter and fun with so many old friends...Bill and I texted a couple of times on Saturday, to commiserate with each other over our horrendous hangovers and that was the last I heard from him...I said goodbye to Paul on Sunday afternoon, promising not to let 20 more years pass before we hung out again, and I left for my quiet home in the country.

When I got back here, I was fully exhausted from having gotten literally everything I possibly could've out of my weekend sans les enfants. After plopping my weary body into the desk chair in front of my trusty ole Mac for the first time since that balmy Friday afternoon, prior, I wasted no time getting right back into my online dating groove, checking e-mail and studying the profiles of new guys who had "viewed" me while I was away. You know something, even if the actual messages suck, it's still always fun to open mail! I pulled up my IM screen and up popped Matthew's fresh-faced, collegiate profile pic., the one in which he's wearing a navy blue, v-neck sweater over a white tee, and he's reclining on the grass propped up on one elbow. He has a cheerful smile and his bright eyes are cast up and away from me and any other girl who has the good fortune of coming across his photo. I like the picture, he looks relaxed and happy and it's the main reason I've become somewhat sweet on him. I said something about liking that image once and he apologized for it being kind of old, and actually that was what prompted him to send me the new ones that I got from him the other night, the only discernible difference being that these days he wears glasses. He told me that the minute he first posted his profile, (what like two whole weeks ago?) he had been inundated with inquiries from interested women and I could definitely see why! Along with his photo came his opening words to our ensuing dialog which lasted for several hours. Thank god for IM, I had basically lost my voice entirely by Sunday night, so it was handy to still be able to "talk". We almost immediately started trying to figure out when might be a good time for us to meet for lunch the following week, and after a bunch of schedule tweaking, we determined that the very next day, Monday, was probably our best option. He kept saying things like, "I just want to make sure we plan it so that I get the maximum amount of time with you" and "I am so excited to meet you, I have a really good feeling about this" and "I hope you won't be disappointed when you meet me" I didn't understand what he was so worried about, I mean I was the old, used-up one entering the mix, what the hell did he have to worry about? Anyway, I changed the subject and asked about his weekend and he said that he had done a bunch of exercise and that he was getting back into healthy eating habits. He had gained a few pounds over the holidays and felt like at the rate he was going, he'd be back down to fighting weight within a month. I have to admit there was this teeny tiny warning bell resonating in my head, I mean, it was already the end of January and I had shed my own unsightly layer of holiday blubber...But I just kept poring over the three pictures I had of him and it seriously all looked fine to me. We stayed on the topic of body image for awhile and he asked me what I thought was my best asset. I told him that I thought it was "my personality" He liked that, it gave him a chuckle, but then he wanted to know, seriously, which part of my physique did I like the best. I told him that I felt pretty good about having a flat stomach, having had four kids and all, but that most people usually comment on my arms. He responded with, "My stomach is not flat" Uh oh...Naturally I was dying to ask,"Well, like HOW not flat?" but I also didn't want to embarrass him or make it seem like a little pudge would be a deal-breaker, and seeing as how we would be meeting face to face the very next day, I knew I would be finding out soon enough if the guy was really fat or if he was just hyper-self-critical, the way I tend to be.

Monday morning Matthew and I checked in with each other to make sure we were square on our plans to meet for lunch in a town near where he was attending a work-related meeting, about an hour and fifteen from where I live. Noon worked for me and he insisted that it would be no problem for him either.

As I was approaching the restaurant, he texted to say that he was running a little late, which was ok, because I was going to be about 10 minutes late, myself. I found the place, no problem and got comfortable at a table in a corner up front by the enormous picture window which spanned the entire facade of the building. I warmed myself with a pot of hot tea, ahhh. Matthew kept texting to say that he was getting closer and I was like, "It's fine, don't sweat it" Meanwhile that boy crazy gene of mine was working double time as I scoured the dining room, checking out the delicious assortment of men, who were enjoying their lunch all around me. I almost handed my business card to one sterling specimen. Well, what the heck else was I supposed to do? I was bored and Matthew was now nearly an hour late! My patience was beginning to wear thin, plus I was famished, humph! My phone rang for real and when I answered, Matthew confessed that he had ended up at the wrong restaurant. For cryin' out loud, he was the one who picked the goddamned venue, I was dumbstruck that he could be right there in the flippin' neighborhood and somehow not be able to find the derned place. My bonnie mood was going right out the window as I talked his pathetic ass through the directions which would hopefully get him to our destination, soon. I wasn't even all that excited to meet him anymore, I just wanted to feed my effin face! And then it happened, I saw Matthew come into view through the long, plate glass window...Can I just tell you something? I admit that I may have been losing my temper a bit when he was getting so late and all, but I have to say that the moment I first laid eyes on him in person, my understandable frustration shifted into...homicidal rage! I was overwrought with debilitating disappointment as he appeared there before me, oblivious that I could see him hurriedly waddling his fat fucking ass up the sidewalk and up into the restaurant. Here, let me break it down for you...Matthew was wearing a heavy, woolen overcoat, right? With each step - his colossal ass cheeks, one after the other - ba-bounced up and down behind him, and rhythmically the back of his coat echoed the reverberation. He walked with his pigeon-toed feet set abnormally far apart, I reckoned because his gargantuan thighs must have prevented them from getting any closer together. I was starting to get why he had only sent photos of his upper body...I was fucking livid! Not only had I wasted gas to drive all the way out there, and waited for over an hour for him to arrive, and was starving - now, NOW I got to look forward to undertaking the odious task of trying to choke down my lunch whilst in the company of this fucking gelatinous jerk-off who had no sense of direction or reality and who had most importantly...TOTALLY MISREPRESENTED HIMSELF TO ME!!! Oh, it gets better, don't you worry. So, ok - he enters the room, I let out an audible, pitiful groan. He sees me and starts spewing desperately complimentary things like, "Oh my god - look at you! You're gorgeous, I had no idea! Just look at you!" He weeble-wobbles towards me, arms outstretched, going in for the hug. My blood was boiling, I was utterly incensed. I couldn't greet him with a smile, it wasn't possible. The best I could offer was a nasty smirk as if to say, "You duped me you asshole!" I committed to giving him a one-armed hug, and let the other dangle limply by my side, but his protruding belly kept me at such a distance that I could barely reach the first arm around any part of him, so hooray for that!!! Oh, he was just pouring on the praise as we sat down at the table, the good news was that I was now feeling so nauseous I wasn't hungry anymore. I loved how every single time he moved at all, crossed a leg, shifted positions, reached for more food, he would practically knock the freakin' table over, I frantically caught the salt and pepper shakers before they hit the floor...repeatedly. It was like he literally had no control over his own gargantuan body, he did not fit at a normal sized table and in a normal sized chair and in a normal sized WORLD! Once, when he was changing positions, he bumped me in the leg so hard that it scooted me - in my chair, a good several inches backwards. I mean GODDAMNIT MAN! I've never seen a man's legs so tightly packed into a pair of dress slacks, it was quite a feat. I suspect that my dramatic change in attitude from bubbly and optimistic when we talked icy and morose that tragic day in person...gave him an inkling that he might be "losing me" for he got up real close to my face and doing his seductive best (barf) asked, "Well, are they green?" and I quipped, "What are you talking about?" and he said, "My eyes, are they green today?" I was like dude, asking me to gaze through your retarded glasses into your green eyes a shade somewhere between over-cooked spinach and baby diarrhea in a feeble attempt to distract me from marveling over your magnitude, only makes me recoil in disgust over being that close to your pock-marked face, and erupting pimples...maybe not such a good strategy...But the true measure of Matthew's corpulence had to have been his fat fucking hands. I've never seen anything like that on a grown-up. On a baby, it's cute when their pudgy, little hands have dimples where the knuckles should be, but on a grown man it is nothing short of repulsive. He would reach his pork sausage fingers over to me and tap my arm and ask if he could feel "my guns" or rest the whole slab on my leg for a second and say, "God, you're so tiny!"

I could absolutely kill myself for ever referring to him as, "yummy"...

So dontcha just know that Lardbutt was IM'ing me as soon as we were both home and online again and he was positively beaming over how well he thought things went! I simply could not continue the madness. The first and only thing I said to him was that I did not think that we were a very good match...that I thought we were just too different. To which he replied, "That's why I like you, because you're different" (uncomfortable [for him] silence) "But I guess it is a two-sided thing" (more uncomfortable silence, like I gave a shit) "and I guess if that's the way you feel..." Click! I closed my screen and bolted...

I went on another date, the very next day with the "Outlaw in Peru", but this entry is already a little long in the tooth, I think it might be best if I save that for tomorow...I will tell you that this date was not such a good one, either, although it was not nearly as godawful...

By Tuesday night, I had basically given up completely on ever finding a man. I putzed around online for a short spell, and then decided to go back over to the house to watch a movie, believe me - that NEVER happens. I grabbed my cell phone which I had left in my car all afternoon and realized that I had a voice mail from Bill, this was the first I'd heard from him since Saturday afternoon. I called him back, right away and we enjoyed the most open and informative, captivating repartee for a full 3 hours! I was instantly cheered and hopeful and was even mentally preparing my "See y'all latah!" blog entry, convincing myself that I had found the wonderful man who was going to save me from all of this never ending misery! We agreed to meet for lunch on Thursday and for the first time in absolutely eons, I was nervous and uncharacteristically excited.

Thursday finally arrived (it felt like it took a couple of weeks) I actually had butterflies, like a seriously messed up tummy, I thought this was a good sign. As I parked my car I texted Bill to say that I was about to pass by his work and did he want me to stop by so we could walk together up to the restaurant. He texted back, "Yes" so I met him out front of his store and he gave me a quick but tender peck on the lips and we proceeded to stroll up the street to grab our lunch, like two goofy teens, stricken with puppy love.

Lunch was great, the food, the sincere interest in what the other had to say, the eye contact... Before we knew it we had wiled away an hour and a half, but it had only felt like 30 minutes, no shit! I walked him back to his shop but we ambled a little past it and stopped in a sunny spot to say goodbye. We kissed and when I pulled away, I made an uncomfortable discovery that immediately turned my fluttery stomach into a tangled ball of crampy queasiness...There was something about him that I noticed in the bright sunlight, that simply did not sit right with me, I'm sorry. I really just thought it was weird...

Later that afternoon, my little pixie friend, Beth texted to enthusiastically ask how my date with Bill had gone. I replied, "Good, except for the fact that he was wearing make-up…"

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