To Date or Not To Date....

So I was thinking about trying to get back into the dating pool. Well, let me backup a little bit for when I say get back into. I haven't been out on a date in, oh, approaching over two years now. Electively. Mostly. Some people choose to be single, some people have singleness thrust upon them. I seem to keep falling into the latter category. I can't totally blame that on the women. I'll have to use my Elizabeth Taylor theory of divorces, after the fifth divorce maybe you are the problem. After running through so many dates, maybe I am the problem. First off, I am a horrible dater. See a prior post about that. And that's not being fair to people who are actually horrible daters. And I try, but I guess I just don't have the ability. Apparently you may as well ask me to be a foot taller, it's not happening. No, seriously. I must suck at it. Some people are bad at math, some can't drive a stick, some have problems learning French, I can't date. Have you seen "Tommy Boy"? The scene where he's describing how he kills his sales is illustrating that point with a dinner roll? That must me me, except instead of him killing his sale I screw up my date. Exhibit A...I am 37 years into my life, still single and could point you to the string of failed and bad dates that I've left in my wake. So my thinking of getting back into the dating pool I'm sure must be fantastic news to all single women at large. "Gee, glad you're back because we didn't already have enough average, bald, fat guys to go out with!" they must be saying. Well I'm on the fence of coming back, it's just a lot of effort any more. I might have had game at one point. Who am I kidding, not even that. It's more of the closing time trophy...trophy may be a little strong. You could probably better call it the 'settle for guy'. I mean, no women ever went out of their minds saying, "I've got to take that guy home with me tonight right now!". So I don't even know how it ever happened. Blind luck or something.

Anyway, I'm thinking about getting back into some kind of dating. When I was actually trying, which let's face it, was less than impressive, I was trying with eHarmony. Like I'd said before, I'm on my computer a lot, I work a lot so let's see what the online world holds for me. And eHarmony was a very tepid success. And I think tepid is the right word to use there, that and you don't really see it in print much. Or digital print. Whatever. Tepid because I was never "on fire", but at the same time I was never totally ice cold. But I can't say that I was overly impressed with the outcomes. So I'm thinking of where I might look next. Laziness would dictate I go back to eHarmony, aside from updating my profile, I'm already set up with their little service. And they keep sending me just stupidly discounted renewal offers. So that's always a thought. Then there's match.com. I know of a couple people who are either on there currently or have been and they seem to have had some pretty decent luck with it it. It also helps that they're both obscenely attractive. And interesting. And fun....ok, I need to stop before I make myself want to go to the garage, turn the car on and suck on the muffler. So they have a few points up on me. But they've all gotten to meet a lot of people and have gone out on quite a few dates, with some repeats. Ok, a lot of repeats. And for at least one of them, my roommate, I always say to her, "and I feel contractually obligated to say that it also doesn't hurt that you're hot." So that could also help explain why they've also got a leg up. But I've kinda signed up for match. I say kinda because when I was visiting one of those friends I just mentioned earlier this year, I was looking at her profile and how it was all set up and how it worked and while I was there I at last filled out a profile to see who all was in the program around me. Seemed to be a lot of people...and seemed to take a lot of time to sort through everyone. I know what they say, anything worth having takes time but man, that seemed like just a lot of extra paperwork. But she had a good eye for who I should go out with, and considering how well I've done to this point picking for myself, maybe I go that way and let her pick for me. So that's match. Then after that I'm not sure. I've heard of chemistry.com and singlesnet.com. Of course Yahoo! has their own singles/personals site, again, see previous post. And there's always craigslist.com. Get a date and sell a used chair, all at the same time. It's like the Walmart of sites, everything under one roof. And that's about it as far as the online stuff goes, and lets face it folks, I'm much better on paper than I am in person. Aside from some of the afore mentioned visual unpleasantness, I'm an idiot with women so that doesn't help. I mean I have a lot of female friends, and I'm good with them, but when it comes to dating I seem to turn into half a retard. So that probably doesn't help either. I mean I don't do anything horrifyingly wrong. No picking my teeth or blowing my nose on the table cloth. I'm not checking my cell phone, I'm paying attention, I'm opening doors and all that kinda stuff. Maybe I'm just a snooze.

There is always that option. I mean even on the dates where I haven't gotten 'the look', I haven't gotten a second date. And yes, we all know what 'the look' is, weather it's you giving it or you receiving it. Regardless of how long you've emailed, texted and talked and seem to have gotten along well, that first in-person meeting when you get 'the look' you know the date is as good as over. At that point I like to call it a courtesy date. How can I describe it. Like when you get that birthday or Christmas present, let's call it socks, and you have that look like, "oh goody...socks" and unless you're a big fan of socks, you don't want the gift giver to feel bad. That's the kind of look. So I guess by that analogy that would make me the pair of socks. Maybe I need to start thinking about how I could sell socks. People need socks, well, maybe not so much in Hawaii or Jamaica but you know what I mean. I'm not saying people need me but it starts to get to a point where I'm conceivably not a bad option regardless. I'd like to think that kind of thinking wouldn't come into play and that I could land someone on my charm, wit and dashing good looks alone. But lets be serious people, the threat of 'it's this or a lot worse' never hurts as an option to steer the potential ladies my way. So how do I want to wrap up this particular big bowl of sad. I'm not sure, normally when I start writing one of these I have a snappy little ending that comes to mind and then I can kinda fill in around that. But this particular topic just kinda hit me and I had no real idea of how I was going to end it. Which I guess seems to be the exact opposite of most, if not all, the women I go out with. They know exactly how they're going to end it.

"We've Found Fifteen New Matches For You"

So I keep getting a message in my inbox like every other day and it's from Yahoo Personals. "We've found fifteen new matches for you." Really? Because I haven't found fifteen matches for me. Total. In my whole life. So I'm not sure what they're thinking. Let's backtrack a bit. I'm a horrible dater. Actually, that's not fair to people who are actually horrible daters. What's more fair to say is I am an underachiever in the dating realm. I work a lot, and I always have, so dating had never really been a priority. Even back into the college days I'd spend hours working on projects and in the art building for various classes. So I kinda fucked up one golden opportunity to meet women. Well, to meet a lot of women, I met some. So why am I punching you in the face with the stories of my horrifying personal life, or lack there of? Well one of my good friends is doing some research right now about meeting people, for friends and for relationships, and when I was answering some of her questions I started thinking about it as it relates to me. My favorite phrase of choice is 'chronically single'. I like that better than 'undateable dope'. Undateable Dope, that would be a sweet bar band name, "Ladies and gentlemen....welcome to the stage Undateable Dope!" So my friend is single too, which kind of scares me. Not for any rational reason. She's the all around definition of 'a catch', I believe the phrase is total package, and if she's having a hard time meeting people and dating then I'm screwed. Ok, so back to the 'fifteen' email. I remember signing up for that a long, long time ago. Before I felt comfortable paying for an online dating service. Back then I had the impression it was a little shady, desperate and pathetic. So I went as far as to be only half shady, half desperate and half pathetic, I created an account but I didn't pay to be a full blown member. No way was I going to be one of those losers who scrounge the net looking for dates from some online service...take that Yahoo!. So I never did anything with that membership.

I figured, hell, I can get some dates on my own. And I did and apparently my radar is whacked. Either that or I don't have good selections skills. I also resorted to the ever-so-popular route of 'do you have any single female friends' to just about every women I even slightly knew. That's a fun place to be, the friend set up. Sometimes it works out...sometimes...and for other people. Man, those were fun times. And I'm pretty sure I'm not using the word fun right. God bless them, some friends did attempt 'the set up'. And after the various set ups I was left thinking to myself "Really...that's what you think of paring me with? Thanks, I'll stay single." And dating...honestly, it feels like a second job trying to meet someone. I know any relationship is going to take work, and I'm not opposed to that, but does the introduction stage have to be that much work. Holy shit, it's like an obstacle course of nonsense just to figure out the person isn't interested. That's great, I get it, I'm not everyone's cup of tea but could you have maybe figured that out from the phone conversations and not after the dinner and an hour and a half of semi awkward conversation? Sometimes I think some women are in it just for the free dinners. Yes, I'm that guy. I'm of the old school where the guys pay for the date. Thick-headed caveman but that's just how I am. I think at times I would have better luck trying to bend a spoon with only my mind. At some point I'd like to meet a woman who likes me at the same time I like her, but I'm starting to sense that's impossible. And quite possibly against nature. That has to sound a little jaded and bitter...what do I mean has to sound, that is bitter and jaded. But with life not giving me any indication to the contrary, open up for that warm embrace bitter and jaded.

So back to the online stuff. Obviously what I had been trying on my own was doing nothing. Or maybe I'm just like a human form of Ambien and I can't keep anyone's interest. So with that, I decided to try an online service. I'd seen more and more ads on tv so I figured the stigma may not be so bad. I can't remember what year it was, I want to say it was like four or five years ago give or take, and I decided what the hell, let's try one. I'm on my computer all the time anyway, I may as well make it work for me in the dating world too. And I was a little cynical of it but I figured I'd wasted money on a lot worse things, like seeing the movie "8MM" , so I'd give it a try. It wasn't a new year's resolution but it did happen right after the first of the year. I do have one distinct memory of that. I was at a Super Bowl party and I was talking to one of my good female friends. We were in the kitchen talking and she asked how the dating was going and I said with all the success I'd had on my own I decided to get professional help. She leaned in and whispered, "you mean you're getting a hooker?" No...no I'm not, but glad to know where your head's at in regards to me on that. No, I was signing up for an internet dating site. I'd done a little looking around and decided I'd try eHarmony. No one is going to knock over Brad Pitt to get to me but I figured I'm moderately good on paper, single, not married, no kids, good job and soon to have my own house. Unfortunately people don't date on paper. And regardless of that, I realized later in the process, most of that stuff means absolutely nothing regardless of what side of the dating fence you're on. You'd be surprised what you think will bother you but isn't even a thought when you meet someone you like. So back to eHarmony. I decided to go with them and jump through all of their hoops. Wow, were there a lot of hoops. The personality profile took me something like forty-five minutes to complete. Ok, now we're getting somewhere. If that's that thorough my inbox should be overflowing with prime candidates for me to blind with the blistering glare of adequacy. Actually, I probably shouldn't use the word blister in the same story about any sort of dating. Blister, rash and sore....those words are off the table. So I get the results of the profile back and I was surprised, I thought it was probably upwards of 85% accurate. Not bad Dr. Neil Clark....not bad. What else you got? So I proceed to finish filling out my profile and go over it with a fine tooth comb. Then I cough up the membership fee and boom, my profile is live. Let the flood of eligible women start filling up my inbox! I should mention this was the high water mark of the experience. Man...you know, you have certain expectations based on what you see on the site and on tv and I got nothing like that. Folks, I'm not gonna lie to you, you remember the people you'd see on tv pushing these sites? Think back. Got the image. Ok, none of the people I got paired up with looked like that. There was this really cute blond girl on the welcome page, even stated she was a member. Nice! And for the entire time I was on there, she was still a member. Really? Hot blonde is having such a hard time getting anyone to ask her out so she's got to come here? You know, if you want to sell the illusion of 'this site works' maybe you should change up the hot girl image on the log in page. Because I go back to the same line of thinking I had with my friend, if this girl is having a hard time getting a date then I'm fucked.

So I waited to see what would turn up and boy was I not disappointed. My inbox was filling up with a lot of potential matches. Then I looked at them and boy was I disappointed. Just sifting through all of them I had the flashback to the earlier set ups, "Really? This is what you're matching me up with?" But I'd paid for it so let's make the most of it. For those not familiar, let me give a brief rundown of how Dr. Neil's site works. They send you matches based on compatibility of your personality profile. Then in your personal profile, you can elect to have some things visible, pictures mostly, at certain stages of communication. There were like multiple choice questions, the lists of 'must haves/can't stands' and then some essay questions to answer and then on to open communication. And you can elect to have your photos available at any point in the communication process. I decided to have mine show up from the very start, I mean you are either going to like what I'm selling or you're not. Boy, if only more people had taken that same approach. When you don't put it out there to start with it makes me think you're trying to hide something. And then when you did get to see a picture, another warning sign should have been when they're trying to desperately crop the picture right at the chin something is amiss. Either that or the pictures of them at the grand canyon...from a distance. Hey, that's great you had a vacation and all but I've seen the grand canyon, I'm more interested in seeing you so I know who I'll be spending an evening with playing 'Why won't you make eye contact'. Oh, and another thing, in your picture maybe hold up a newspaper, or an iPhone or something so I know it's a current picture. Really? Should you even have to say that? I could care less about the picture of you from your cousin's wedding eight years ago. Again, I know I'm no treat but at least the pictures of me were representative of what you'd be signing up for. Not decade old pictures or one's you'd need to get a loupe to see me in. I know obsessing over the pictures seems a bit shallow, and you'd be right, but come on, if you don't have the confidence to post an at least one decent picture what do you expect me to think. I'm impatient, have I mentioned that,(see previous posts) so I'm one for wanting to see who I'm 'talking' with right off the bat.

So let me give you some of the highlights of my matches. There was the mute, gray tooth, neck tattoo, no eye contact, short answer and the Australian. Maybe I'll go into some more depth on those in a later post but hopefully you can pick up from just the descriptions of how well that all had worked out for me. Actually, there were a couple that almost broke on through to the other side, apologies to Jim Morrison. Wait, what do I care, he's dead. There was one that I thought was actually maybe gonna work out, then it didn't. And really, for no reason I can come up with. Really, and I'm not just saying that being blind to my flaws. I really have no idea what happened there. That's why I love the idea of a dating exit interview. "What did you like about the candidate, what didn't you like about the candidate?" And so on and so on. So what would I like to leave you with after all this incessant rambling? Well, I guess the "38 year old shortstop theory" would sum it up best. When a short stop breaks into the league at 23 or 24, he's diving all over the place trying to make plays. Fast forward to that same short stop at 38. He'll make the play if the ball is hit to him. So that's where I'm at, the 38 year old short stop of dating. I'm done diving all over the field but if one's hit right to me I'll make the play.

Favorite Holiday 1A

So I was out this afternoon looking for some Halloween costume pieces. I love Halloween, Christmas is my favorite but Halloween is coming in at 1A. And I have a couple things to look for, or I guess two different ideas. One is for an 80s rock theme and the other is for the Travelocity Gnome. I've got a really good costume that if there was no theme I would go with. It's a pimp costume. Not the typical polyester pajama looking one but an actual pimp looking costume. It's an orange, white pinstriped long jacket and suit. Complete with white fedora hat and orange shoes. Then some gold chains and rings...really, it's an awesome costume. But no place for it this year so I'll let it ride till the next occasion. So back to the 80s rock, I opted to go as Michael Anthony from Van Halen for the 80s rock. Actually, that idea had hit me earlier in the year and then it happened to be the theme we were going with where I work. And let's face it, that's really the only 80s rock person I had a shot as actually pulling off. I don't fit the mold for, oh, 97% of the acts from that era but I can kinda fit in with him. A little shorter, a little stocky and you can get a mullet wig that fits his hairstyle fairly easily. And he usually wore normal clothes, tee shirts and jeans so that would be relatively easy to put together. And the gnome just kinda came to me and that would be fairly easy to put together too. I already had a gray wig and beard from an old Jerry Garcia costume. And one of my friends mentioned getting a blue Sunggee as the robe. Which I already did, and it should work when I turn it around backward. It's not really built to be worn backward but I can make it work with some strategically place pins. And it's also fun to say I own a Snuggee. I've made fun of those for so long and now I own one. So I guess after Halloween I'll have the official uniform of depression to use anytime I'd want. But I already had something that worked as well, it's called a blanket. Actually, I have a lot of them. And it really makes me wonder, why did we need the Snuggee? Were blankets that difficult to figure out? You cover up with it and you're warm. Seems pretty simple. I see on the commercials where they make a big point out of it having sleeves but let's face it people, if a blanket is confusing to you to figure out how to get your arms free to use, you have more problems than just staying warm. But back to the costume hunt, I went out this afternoon to a Halloween store and then to a couple department stores to find the right pieces. First stop was the Halloween store, best chance of finding the mullet wig. Which I did, after a little wandering. And found the right style, not quite the right color but oh well. No costume is perfect. Needed it to be more brown than black but he style was right so that's the one I got. And I'm glad I didn't really have to look for a hat. Something weird about trying on hats in a store like that. Don't get me wrong, I really like Halloween. I enjoy dressing up but you know who else likes Halloween? Lice and dirty people. You pick up a case of that from a wayward Gandalf wizard hat you had to try on and then everyone isn't quite as huggy. But there are some really fun costumes. Especially for the ladies. And by fun I think I'm mispronouncing hot. Some people may say slutty but I guess that's a semantic argument depending on your perspective. As a single guy, I'll say they're hot and love it when you see them at parties. Not everyone is on board with those kind of costumes but I like the ladies who are, God bless you, you make the world a better place to live. And maybe pick up a couple extra. Why should the hot nurse or indian squaw be limited to only Halloween? But sadly, I have no one to convince of this theory so I got my mullet wig and left.

Then off to Walmart to find some remaining parts. I know everyone bangs on Walmart but it's close to where I live and I can find a lot of things without having to go to a lot of different stores. So there I am. And apparently everyone else in the city. Where did all these people come from. Now I will say that I normally try to shop at off hours to avoid this particular thing. There were just too many people out for my liking. Clogging up the aisles and all. And that's not even counting the horrifyingly bad drivers in the parking lot. Have I mentioned before that I'm impatient? Check one of the earlier posts. And did I also mention that I seem to have an ever so slight problem with road rage? Yelling and cursing, sometimes it sounds like I have tourettes but normally it is brought about for a good reason. It's not like I think I'm a better driver than everyone else out there, actually it's only about 85% that I think I'm better than. No, what sets me off is the driver who's not courteous or at the least seems to think they're the only one driving despite the evidence to the contrary. You know, like all the other cars. At least when I have the aneurysm I'll know what it's coming from. But after a few jackasses and people wandering aimlessly across the streets I got a spot. And really, when you're crossing at a parking lot, maybe you try to cross straight across the road and not take the longest diagonal route humanly possible. Did you notice all the other people aside from yourself trying to get places? Sigh. But I did manage to finally get into the store and the parking frustration didn't get any better. So one of the first things I noticed was in that in the area where the lawn and garden section normally lives, it was being transformed to house the Christmas items. Really? Middle of October and the Christmas stuff is out. Don't get me wrong, I do love Christmas. Just not in October. I remember the days when Halloween was it's own holiday and and didn't have Santa sticking his fat, wide ass into it. However, I had all sorts of Halloween spirit going into the store and trying to find some of the things I wanted to get and all of the 'in the way' people just sucked all the fun out of it. I was looking through all the decorations and costumes and things and it was taking me forever to navigate the store because of all the people who thought they were the only ones in the store. Really, you're blocking the aisle with your cart looking at something twelve feet away from your cart and I move it enough to get through and all of a sudden I'm the jerk for doing that? Cram that dirty look and pay attention to your cart. And the kicker to all of this angry sounding rambling? They didn't have any of the stuff I was looking for. Ok, that's not 100% true. They may have had some of it but I got so frustrated trying to navigate the sea of human cattle that was wandering the aisles of the store I had to quit and go home before there was an incident. Either me having a coronary or the police needing to be called. Probably neither actually, but it could have gotten scary which I guess ultimately would have been in the spirit of the holiday.

Evil I Tell You

So I hadn't written anything in a couple weeks and was feeling kind of bad about it. I was really excited about throwing my two cents out on to the world wide interweb when I started this. I was trying to think of anything interesting that I've had going on to bore you all with. What kind of statement is that on my life that it's taken me this long to find even the slightest thing that could be worthy of putting digital pen to digital paper. And I can't really guarantee that this is but what the heck. I was running errands this evening after work and normally I would think I would be going on and on about the drivers that were apparently only out to clog up traffic. Seriously, if your goal is to go fifty miles per hour, that's great. Do it all day long....have a ball. Just do it in the right lane because the rest of us would like to get on with it. At least when I have the aneurysm I'll know what it's from, the white blinding rage at the inconsiderate and mostly stupid drivers. I'm not in Formula One but there are a lot of times I'm pretty sure I'm better than like 85% of the drivers on the road around me. I can't say that I condone highway shootings, but I understand how they happen. But no, it's wasn't that, and it wasn't the all of the in the way people clogging up the aisles on my errands. Although there was a fun argument I overheard when I was in the men's department. There was a high school kid trying to convince...no, begging, his mom to let him get a tie. She was as adamant that he was not going to get a new tie because his dad had plenty as he was about using his own money. You all remember the phrase, "But what if I use my own money?", thinking that could change the course of an argument. No, we as kids were always wrong on that one. If we weren't getting something we weren't getting something regardless of where the funds came from. Uncle Moneybags from the Monopoly game could have walked up and given us one of those big bags of money with the dollar sign on it to spend and it still wasn't going to happen. So he was whining and begging and the little sister wasn't helping things and then the mom apparently got fed up and told them to put everything back, they weren't going to get anything and they were leaving. Really? It was just a tie, granted he was being a whiney little pain in the ass but everything goes back? I was torn as to weather to applaud the hard line or to think of her as a fascist dictator of their house and that's the only control she has (over her kids) and she's going to fully exercise it. Regardless, I was glad to see them leave and return to my quiet shopping experience. So what was it that caused me to write about the errand running and shopping experience?

Well, it was when I came to the conclusion that Kohl's is evil. Not evil in a legally actionable liable way, or evil in a 'big corporate monster' way. No, it's evil in that every time I go in there I can't leave with only what I intended to go in for. Evil I tell you, with the 20-50% off sales. Let me set the stage. I was out shopping for my sister-in-law's upcoming birthday. She, much like me and my brother, is of the age where we're hard to buy for on gift giving occasions. If we want something we'll just go out and buy it. So it's a pain in the ass now to try and find things for any of us, imagine how much fun buying presents for each other will be when we hit our seventies. You know, the historical "what do you buy for them" years. I'll worry about that when I get there. So I was at Kohl's to pick up a gift card. I know she likes Kohl's and a gift card sounded like a very good idea. The gift card, you know, the present that says I was committed to giving 43% effort in finding you a present. And the cards are in the front of the store, as is the men's department. So I figured I'd just take a quick look to see if anything jumps out at me. It's coming up on fall so I thought I'd see if there was anything new that looked good. As I was looking through my fifth rack of shirts and sweaters, I started to wonder if there was a single thing in the store that was ever sold at full retail price. Everything was on sale. And not just a little but 20 to 50% off. Even when we weren't in these economically crappy times, they would always have big percent off sales. I know everyone does it now just to get people in the store but I don't think I've ever paid full price for anything there. Evil. And as I'm carrying around three of the eventual five shirts I would be trying on is when I came across the family having the tie argument. Which I've been thinking more about since I mentioned it. Why would anyone be so dead set against letting their high school son get a tie? Really? That's where you draw the line in the sand? A tie? Not the PS3, or Grand Theft Auto, or the fixer upper car, or tattoo...a tie. I would think there would be a lot of other things you wouldn't want to buy for him or let him buy with 'his own money'...and let's face it folks, when you're that age, there is no such thing as your money. There's the thought of your own money. But it's purely a concept and normally only brought out when the argument isn't going well and you need a last line of attack. If you have an allowance, that is money your parents are letting you use. And even if you have a job they're not going to let you buy just anything so the concept of 'my own money' doesn't really apply till you're out on your own and can waste it on liquor, cars and women the way you should. But back to the clothes shopping, after the tie party left I found a couple other shirts that I like, bringing up the total to the afore mentioned five shirts. So off to the dressing room. I'm going for comfort and looks, as I'm sure a lot of people do. And it's when you're trying on clothes you come to a few realizations. First among them for me is the reaffirmation of why I'm not a clothing model. Good Lord the lights and mirrors in the dressing rooms are just mean. Couple that with the evil of the store and it's a deadly combination. Not for you but for your wallet. I understand that I'm a bald, fat guy who is swiftly approaching forty but damn, the setup in dressing rooms are always good reminder. You would think they'd want dim lighting and all that for the dressing rooms. Guess they don't want to hassle with so many returns when you eventually get to good lighting.....so look at the mirror and see who is not the fairest in the land. And I'm glad I did. I didn't like the way a couple looked in the bright light, was on the fence for one but two of them were definite buy them now shirts. So even though the dressing room highlights the balding fatness, I should really work on that but I like beer and cheese too much for not being from Milwaukee, I should be thanking the dressing room for saving me a couple bucks on some stuff I shouldn't be buying. A red sweater on a fat guy is too close to 'casual Santa wear', so thank you dressing room. I go from five down to two and I think I may have beaten the store, not too bad. I mean, they still win because I'm still leaving with two shirts I had no intention of buying but I still have a little retail dignity left because I was able to say no...to a point. But just when you think you're out they reel you back in. After I'm done checking out, which took way longer than it should have because I had the guy who was on his first day. Pleasant enough guy but still the blindingly fast pace of the first timer. Why do I always seem to get stuck with the new guy, or first day guy, or the if they think I'm working late again this weekend they can kiss my ass conversation woman. I don't mean to take you away from your oh so important conversation with your girlfriend on the next aisle but maybe you can have your discussion about what you're not going to do after you finish up scanning all my stuff? No wonder the self scanners are becoming more popular. Anyway, as I'm getting checked out one more facet of evil pops up, the ten dollars off your next purchase coupon. That just isn't fair. Now how can I not buy that last shirt that I was on the fence about? It's like they threw that coupon directly at my indecision and knocked it down on the side of buy it. Evil I tell you.

I'm Never Going There Again

So I wanted to get some morning coffee. I was leaving my place early this past weekend and wanted to get some coffee to go. And I'll usually stop at Starbucks. They serve their coffee lava hot but I really like the vanilla powder they have to sprinkle in, not sure if that evens it out for the second degree burns on the inside of my mouth but I like it. The vanilla, not the scalding. There's a Starbucks not too far down the street from where I live. Easy to get to and fast. I don't think I've ever spent more than five minutes in there for an entire transaction. I'm not a regular but when I go, that's the one I go to because it's fast and I'm impatient. And the vanilla powder, I really like that vanilla powder. Well, when I was leaving that one was kinda out of the way for the direction I was going, but I knew there was one right off the interstate two exits up so I figured I'd save some time and just stop at that one. That's what you could call the fatal flaw in this story. So I got to that Starbucks, parked and walked in; first sign there could be trouble...there was a line about ten deep. But I was locked into that choice at that point so lets see what happenes. What happened was it took me a good fifteen minutes to get up to the front to even place my order. So I could feel the rage building. I did a quick count and there were six people behind the counter. Six people! One taking the orders, one at the drive through, three wrangling the coffee makers and one....I don't know. He just seemed to be walking back and forth but not really doing anything I could see. Maybe he was just there to fill in in case any of the other black shirts had to go to the bathroom. Whatever he was doing, it was not making anything go any faster. And they all had headsets on. The entire back of the counter area is maybe six feet wide and then twenty to thirty feet long. I guess head sets could be useful if you were trying to talk to someone at the other end, but what's so important at a coffee house that you'd need a headset to talk to someone twenty-five feet away? "Allan, I need some decaf Sumatra....STAT!" That's even assuming they work and aren't just for show. I guess the girl at the drive through had a functioning one for that and maybe the other people didn't want to feel left out. But needless to say those things did not help the speed of the transaction. While I was waiting I did get to check out everything in their sweets case. The danish looked ok and the lemon cake looked good. But I'm not a sweets person and definitely not a morning sweets person. So the danish and cake stayed right there. And got to watch the old people behind me try and interact with the two little kids in front of me. The line curved so they were across from each other. Does anybody else think that it's weird that old people, at random, can start talking to little kids in a line and everyone thinks it's just adorable? I think it's kind of weird. Old or not, just randomly starting talking to a two year old while you're waiting in line just has always seemed odd but usually the old people get away with it without winding up on Megan's List. And at that point I was two people removed from being able to order so they could have been discussing their thoughts on healthcare reform with the kids and if it helped the line to move faster and didn't slow things up I'm all for it, chat them up all you want. And while I was staring around at the sweets case, I just started looking at the other people in the line and saw someone in line behind me that just had an unfortunate look. It wasn't just for the shirt that was a size or two too small and had some rolls peeking out that really shouldn't. I could see if she was reaching for something and they pop out and say hello, but just standing there it looked like either a long midriff shirt or a very too small normal shirt. Now, I shouldn't throw stones as I am not slim myself. However, I'm aware of my physical limitations and try to dress accordingly but if you have a burning desire to know what a sausage feels like go right ahead. Really, who am I to stop you. Oh, did I mention the shirt was white too. Nice touch. But that wasn't the most unfortunate part, no, that was the neck tattoo. Actually that's wrong, it was more of like a necklace tattoo. Prison green and all around in the position where you would expect to see an actual necklace laying. I couldn't make it out because it was written in some sort of script, which seems to be all the rage for any kind of tattoo writing. Script or old english. Not sure how that came to be the font of choice for tattoos in America's tattoo parlors but that really seems to be the way to go. If you're going you have Mayhem tattooed across your stomach you may as well class it up with making it in old English letters. But it did look like dates were on it so I'm assuming it was commemorating someone's birth and death dates, and what better way to memorialize someone then a necklace tattoo. And it also tells me they're really never planning on having a career in any sort of commission sales job. I don't mean to bang too much on tattoos. I'm not a fan myself. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact I don't feel strongly enough about anything to have it emblazoned on my skin and I'm a total skirt wearing Nancy-boy when it comes to needles. And seeing how that's how you get a tattoo, not interested. But if you are getting one, maybe think a little about placement. Because that wasn't the only one rearing it's head. But let's get back to the coffee and leave neck tattoo to her own thing. I was almost next, just had the guy with the two kids in front of me to order and I could get my delicious venti Pike Place brew and be on my way. But this guy seemed to be ordering the whole menu. And trying to let the kids do the ordering too. Folks, have I mentioned that I'm impatient? You know when that's cute? When you're sitting at your table and you have your own waiter. You know when that's not adorable? When you have ten people behind you in line and the barista can't get your order because he can't understand the two year old trying to spit out mocha chai venti latte with skim....or something like that, hell I don't know I couldn't understand her either. But he finally got the order out and moved along. And it was finally my turn. Now I have to say I set myself up for disappointment. I just order straight ahead coffee, none of the other stuff that goes in it, just whatever the brew of the day was, and that day it happened to be the Pike Place brew, and as soon as I order, they turn around and fill the cup and I'm on my way. Well that was at the other location. Not here. Ordered that at the other location and they poured it right there. Oh but not at this place. I paid and then had to wait for him to turn around and take more orders before he could be bothered to pour an effing cup of coffee from a machine that was three feet away. You waste five minutes trying to figure out junior is saying egg sandwich but you can't just pour a cup of coffee after I clearly said what I wanted and you didn't have to guess if I was saying wombat or mongoose or chicken a la orange or wait for someone else to translate what I'm saying from gibberish to adult? So I'm seething a little more. Did I mention I'm impatient? So I'm getting hot, but not as hot as the coffee I hope to be getting some time this year, but hot none the less. So I'm waiting a little longer and there comes the egg sandwich. I wish he would have called out the order in the same gibberish nonsense sounds that it was ordered in but oh well, you can't have everything. And then he finally decided to pour the cup of coffee after taking a couple more orders. Finally! And I could almost be on my way, I just had to add some cream, sugar and the delicious vanilla powder. I got to the station and put in my sugar and then the half and half. I prefer skim but all they had was one canister of half and half. And then I went for the vanilla. I said and then I went for the vanilla....the vanilla...where's the vanilla? Coco and cinnamon but no vanilla. Oh, turns out they were out of it. White blinding rage at that point. Not only did I waste twenty minutes waiting on one cup of coffee from this slow motion crew of headsets and aprons but now you screw me on the vanilla? Piss off! I'm never going back to that Starbucks location again ever and dealing with that teamwork of slow. I don't care how much I'm dying for coffee. And with that I don't care how much out of the way it may be, I'm going to go to the Starbucks location that I always go to because I know they're fast. Oh, and they always have vanilla.

Chocolate Covered Bacon

So I thought about writing a blog for a while. Mostly thinking, "Really? Do I need to further clog up an already jammed up information super highway with the haunted house of thoughts in my head? Eh, why not." So here I am unleashing a torrent of adequacy at you people. A very good friend of mine had started blogging routinely somewhat recently and she seems to enjoy it. It probably helps that she is a good writer. And has a lot of interesting life experiences to pull from. And is exceptionally talented and intelligent. So what the hell did I think I was going to do? But undaunted in seeing that I figured why not try my hand at it too. Which brings me here to my virtual pencil and paper. Now that I have signed up to have my very own blog there comes a lot of pressure. First among them is what will my first blogging be about? It should be something important and relevant so that I can drown you all with my oh-so-important views of the world at large. So where do I go? Healthcare? Immigration? The War(s)? The Deficit? Chocolate covered bacon? Yeah, that's it, chocolate covered bacon. Let's have a look at that. Why chocolate covered bacon? Glad you asked. Let's take a trip back in time about a week to the State Fair, check local listings. I enjoy the state fair. Let's be honest, what's not to like about fried cheese, elephant ears and getting to see the worlds largest boar in the hog bar. Seriously, 1200 pounds and change. That was one humongous pig! And by extension, a huge set of balls. Which brings up the question... how does he walk with those. Or at least without having them drag the ground. I guess it really doesn't matter because any time I've ever seen one of these obscenely large pigs, they've always been laying down. So maybe that's how they deal with the whole 'balls dragging the ground when I walk' thing, they just don't walk. Anyway, back to the fair and the mystery treat. There's always something interesting, and by that I mean odd, at the state fair in the food department. You have your standard fair fare (I can't tell you how long I've been wanting to use that homophone) like breaded tenderloins, elephant ears, funnel cakes, barbecue, fried zucchini, turkey legs....I think I just gained two pounds writing that sentence. But there is always the new kid on the food block. And it's usually odd. For example, the fried pickle. It's not as disgusting as you might think. Or the fried candy bar. Come on folks, we've all heard of the fried candy bar and as disgusting as you may protest it to be because you say you're healthy, deep down everyone wants to try one. What's not to like, Snickers are great. And I don't get any money from the Snickers people to say that but if they want to come to the table with a check I'm willing to listen. Fried foods are notorious for being delicious, so what's not to like about a fried candy bar? Well if you like to feel like you're getting diabetes the moment you bite into it, go right ahead. For those of you who have never had one, it's very much in the vein of a corn dog, minus the healthy aspects. There is a corndog like coating. More like a pancake really. The candy bar is coated in this, fried and then coated with powdered sugar. MMMMM....MMMMM! Picture that last MMMM....MMMMM in an Andy Griffith voice. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, go to TV Land right now and watch a few reruns and then come back here and finish. So the fried candy bar is a different sweets experience. I tried it and it wasn't horrifyingly bad. Just not a sweet I think I'd try again. Then there was the fried Pepsi. What? How do you fry a liquid? I don't know but I'm on board if for nothing else the magical part of seeing a liquid fry in a liquid. I'm not going to lie, I was very curius to see this booth when it first came out. Then I realized they weren't doing some kind of Mr. Wizard magic, it was just fried dough with some Pepsi flavoring injected in toward the end. What a rip-off! No magical fried liquid....screw off fried Pepsi booth. You're a fraud with your no fried liquid. I don't know exactly what I was expecting but it wasn't fried dough slightly soaked in Pepsi. That just seems like a letdown. I guess that goes up there with the flying cars. But now let's skip ahead to this years state fair. I had heard that there was a vendor selling chocolate covered bacon. What? Two of the best things ever! I'm not a big fan of sweets, which may not be obvious by my dissection of the fried candy bar, but I do like some chocolate every now and again. And bacon could be the most perfect food ever. Right up there with cheese. If there was a food "Hall of Justice" , bacon would be playing the role of Superman with cheese coming in as Batman. Which I guess by extension would make Robin the crackers to go along with that. I'll have to think about what other super-hero I would assign to what food. Anyway, chocolate covered bacon...where do I get in line! Not that I thought it was going to be the best thing I ever ate but I've liked stranger things, like squid (a little chewy) and 8MM ( a little dry). Now why do I have to take a swing at Nick Cage and his movies? Every third or fourth one is passable. I guess I could have said Snake Eyes or The Rock but I didn't want you to think I was talking about an action figure or a wrestler. So back to the bacon. I was at the fair with a couple friends but I couldn't talk either of them into so much as a nibble. So it was on me to take down this whole order of sad. Now let me set the table as to what the chocolate covered bacon is, aside from the obvious in the title. It's served similar to a chocolate covered banana if you've ever had one of those. The bacon is cooked, covered with chocolate and then frozen till the unsuspecting customer comes up. Enter unsuspecting customer. I place my order and my three slices of bacon are pulled out, placed in a little basket and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Five bucks later I'm walking away from the booth with my treat. I know five bucks sounds like a lot for three slices of bacon you know are going to taste horrible, and you'd be right, but I couldn't not try it, so there I was. I wasn't exactly sure how to go at it but one end of the bacon was left exposed so I guess that's what they're considering the handle so that's where I picked it up and had my first bite. You know what's unexpected? Chewy chocolate. And I don't mean a delicious chewy like a carmel or something. I mean like meat chewy. Ugh, that first bite was awful. But I thought, hell I paid for it, I'm gonna choke down five dollars worth of this destroyed, chocolatey bacon. And it didn't really get any better. You think there may be some subtlety in the combination of flavors that you start to pick up. And you'd be wrong. It's just bacon dipped in chocolate. I guess you can call that a lesson learned about odd fair food. But at the least I have that in my library of tastes for future reference. So the next time I come up against something that is horrifyingly bad, I can say, "Sure ________ was bad, but it's no chocolate covered bacon.".