British Guy (part 2)

This is Part 2 of the British Guy series. If you missed Part 1 you can read it right here.

I woke up the next morning on Cloud 9, still in shock that I had met a cool guy, had a great time with him, AND that I had finally accomplished the first step of my summer project. At this point I didn’t even care what happened for the rest of the day!

We spoke that afternoon and made plans to grab dinner again for our date that night and then take it from there. In true Jeri fashion, my mind raced all day thinking, hoping, and stressing about that night. What if tonight isn’t as good as last night? What if we have nothing to talk about? What if he realizes I’m a huge dork? What if everything goes perfectly? Is it just me or do you guys get just as nervous for a second date as you do for a first?

The evening finally arrived and I got dressed, had a shot (only 1 this time) and jumped into a cab to meet him. When I got to our meeting spot he was already there looking just as cute as I remembered. Phew! As we walked to the restaurant I was relieved to find that he was also just as lovely as the night before and that he seemed as happy to see me as I was to see him. Double phew! My worries were beginning to fade and by the time we got to the restaurant and ordered I was starting to calm down and just enjoy the moment.

The dinner was great and so was the conversation. I learned that he had his own house and lived in the countryside in England, that he had a trampoline in his backyard just for sh*ts and gigs, and other similarly quirky things that I tend to find particularly endearing. Once dinner was done, just like the night before, it was clear that neither of us was ready to say goodbye, and it was equally clear that we were both feeling a little haggard from last night’s drinking and late night of making whoopee (hehe).  He suggested that we go for a drink at the bar in his hotel, I stay over, and he drive me home the next morning. If any other guy had suggested this, I’d be all “Excuuuuuuse me mister, ain’t that a little presumptuous?” But in this case I was all “YES YES YES that is the best idea ever did you read my mind maybe we should get married!”.

So that’s what we did.

Go back to his hotel, not get married 😛

And it was the best.

We grabbed some beers and sat at the bar, but we soon decided to take them to his room to hang there instead. Now I don’t mean to sound cliche, but it was just so fun to be there with him, and it truly felt like we had known each other for ages.  Even though I knew this entire time that he was going back to England at the end of the week, and that we may never see each other again after tonight, I didn’t care. I’d been on a slew of bad dates back at home and was starting to lose hope that I’d ever meet someone I actually enjoyed, so it was refreshing for me to feel this excitement and connection with someone.  If his only role in my life was to reignite some hope in me, it was worth it.

The next morning we woke up, and he got ready for work as I got ready for my drive home of shame.  Even on the car ride to my house he was adorable, and I couldn’t believe we had to part ways for what was very possibly forever. As we got off the highway and neared my place, I got this sudden pain in my stomach, and tears started to well up in my eyes. Was this really happening? Was it possible I was having a physical reaction to saying bye to this British dude? Was I about to cry over a 24-hour affair? Oh my.

When we pulled up to my house it was obvious that I was on the verge of tears, but I managed to keep it together while I swear I saw a tiny amount of shine in his eyes too! We said goodbye with no talk of a “next time”, but he did ask if we could at least keep in touch and try to Skype sometime, which made me happy enough for the moment. It made no sense to decide on any kind of commitment at that point, and I was happy to see if this little fling could at least last for a video call or two.

Once I got into my house, I was so sad yet so happy at the same time. I responded to all the missed calls and texts from my friends who were dying to know how the night went, had some breakfast and then took a little celebratory nap.

When I woke up it was still midday which meant so much time before my friends were done work and I can go verbal diarrhea on them about the details of my night. So while I tried to pass the time I did what any girl with hearts in her eyes would do- I looked him up on Facebook.

Since he had told me his last name the night before, his open profile was way easy to find.  I became instantly excited to see anything I could about his digital life, until I clicked on his profile picture to get a better view.

Hmmmmm, who is this girl in a wedding dress next to him? Must be his sister. Let me look at the other pictures.

Wait she’s in the next one too, and the next… and who are these little girls in most of them too, he must really love his nieces… I tried to convince myself.

As I clicked though the pictures my heart began to sink. I couldn’t deny it.

Oh no. No no no no no.

The girls were his wife and kids.

Stay tuned for the final post of the British Guy series, which I’d like to call “The Confrontation”.

Let the games begin

When I decided to have a Slutty Study summer back in ’15, I was full of hope and excitement. I couldn’t wait to see what this experiment would bring, and I was eager to get to know a side of myself that I had never encountered.

To my dismay, it was much more challenging to open myself up to this new version of myself than anticipated, and so my summer was off to a rocky start.  After a meet-up with an ex that ended badly (duh) and then a perfectly platonic dinner catching up with an old (guy) friend who tried to get in my pants by acting like some macho-man in a most embarrassing way (more on that in a later post), I was feeling pretty down and disappointed and just about ready to give up my summer project out of sheer embarrassment of failure.

When I got home from that god-awful non-date, I felt so dirty from this “friend’s” “moves” that I decided to delete my Tinder account, and then Google how to join a convent (step 1: Don’t be Jewish. Damn).  However, when I opened Tinder I found a message from a cute British guy that I had swiped right to a few days earlier. As deflated as I was in that moment, I decided to say hi back, and then continue on with the whole deleting my account later that night when this British guy would inevitably prove to be a loser just like the rest of his kind.

To my surprise, he responded within minutes. To my even bigger surprise, we ended up chatting all night. I really wanted to hate him and blame him for the other guys who had burned me that weekend, but it just didn’t happen. I learned that British Guy actually lived in England (accent- yes!), but spent half of his time living in Toronto for work. As silly as this sounds, we totally clicked via chat. We had great banter, he was really interesting, and he even made me laugh a few times, which is quite the feat since I’m a pretty tough audience, you know, being freakin’ hilarious and all 😉 . By the end of our 3 hour chat, we decided to meet for dinner the next night.

As excited as I was to meet this intriguing Brit, I was also nervous and worried. I had done this enough times to know that a great text chemistry did not necessarily equal to a great face-to-face chemistry.  Nonetheless, the evening arrived so I put on a cute summer outfit, had my usual 2 pre-date vodka shots, and went on my merry way. As I walked to the restaurant, I hoped and prayed with every step that this guy wouldn’t suck when we met in person. I also hoped and prayed that I wouldn’t fall over since maaaaybe I had had 3 shots instead of 2 and was pretty sauced… Oops.

I managed to get there before him so I waited at our table and downed 2 glasses of water so that I wouldn’t puke my shots up on him later that night. Once he arrived, my initial thoughts were that he was cute, but not as cute as he seemed in his pictures, and that he was pretty brave to be sporting a salmon-coloured shirt.  As usual, conversation was a little awkward at first, and he seemed slightly nervous, but it took about 15 minutes for me to think yep, this guy’s cool, I don’t need to find an excuse to leave. It took about 30 minutes for me to think wow I’m kinda really enjoying myself here, and it took about an hour for both of us to say out loud that this is one of the better dates we’ve been on and when are we going to see each other next. We decided on the next day.


This NEVER happens to me. I repeat, NEVER. Towards the end of the meal I got up to break my seal and as I walked to the bathroom I texted my best friend to say OMG he’s so cute and cool I can’t believe it and OMG I’m so hammered I hope he doesn’t realize.  When I got back from the bathroom he had paid (that’s always nice 🙂 ) but it was obvious that neither of us was ready to end the night.  So we went to a nearby bar for a few drinks.

It’s funny, even though it was our first date, switching venues made it feel like we had entered second date territory, and I mean that in a good way. He seemed way less nervous and we were both a little more loosey-goosey. Conversation flowed even better and we were sitting in a corner booth, so were even a little closer to each other than at the restaurant. Hubba hubba. I found out that he sings and plays guitar (obvious swoon) and that he had a man-crush on Ryan Gosling, which made my heart stop because I have a serious, for real, I might have a problem kind of crush on him too. I couldn’t even believe it, what were the chances?!? Ha! Not to sound like a gushing girly girl, but my heart was racing and I was smiling so much that my mouth hurt. If I were an emoji I would be the yellow face with the heart eyes. It was so refreshing to hang with a guy and have such a good time, AND to be attracted to him on top of it all! And it was just as nice to feel that it was mutual.

Eventually it got to the point after a bunch of drinking and chatting and laughing that I just couldn’t handle it anymore, and I did something super uncharacteristic of myself. I grabbed his arm and pulled him in to kiss him.


Who is this girl?

Did someone call 1-800-BOOYA?!?

Even better was that once I grabbed his arm he took care of the rest, so I swear I didn’t force myself on him! But anyways, I was so proud of myself and so happy that it was being reciprocated.

We stayed at the bar till pretty late, and when we decided to leave he offered to drive me home (it may not have sounded like it, but he did way less drinking than me so was totally good to drive- I’m a safety girl!).  As we pulled up in front of my place he was mid-story and cracking me up, so without even thinking I asked if he wanted to come in. I seriously didn’t think about where that could possibly lead, being so unaccustomed to having a good date and also to being slutty, of course. He said yes right away and once we got into my apartment, I took my phone out of my bag and had about 10 messages from friends asking wtf is going on it’s so not like me to be on such a long date. It seemed my friends were equally unaccustomed to me actually enjoying a guy!

While British Guy was in the bathroom, I quickly responded to a few of them saying yep still on the date and we’re now at my apartment omg omg what have I done I don’t know if I can handle this now. Needless to say this led to a flood of firework and hand-clapping emojis being sent my way. Seeing my friends’ enthusiasm on this ridiculous project of mine calmed me down and helped me to remember that this is all just for fun, and that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do. But let me tell you, I definitely wanted to do it 😉  We sat down on the couch but it didn’t take long for sitting down to becoming lying down, if you know what I mean 😉 ;).  I was doing it! I was succeeding at my goal and enjoying every minute of it!

Banging aside, at the end of the night we both confessed how much of a good time we’d had together and that neither of us expected the date to end anywhere near my bed, but that we were plenty happy that it did.  As he left my place, we reconfirmed that we were seeing each other again the next night, and we both couldn’t wait.

Little did I know what was in store for me over the next 48 hours…

I can’t wait to share Part 2 of the British Guy story with you, but I’ll be away for the next 2 weeks, so be sure to subscribe to email notifications below so you can be the first to read it when I get back. Cheerio until then!

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I’d like to thank the Academy

I’m so honoured to have been nominated for the Sunshine Blogger Award by Kelli from Blush and Brews! As a new blogger it’s so exciting to be noticed and acknowledged by my newfound peers in this community.  And on that note, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank those of you who have discovered and followed me over the past few weeks. It definitely makes a serial-dater feel special 😉


But enough about that. Here’s how the Sunshine Blogger Award works:

  1. Thank the blogger(s) who nominated you in the blog post and link back to their blog.
  2. Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you.
  3. Nominate 11 new blogs to receive the award and write them 11 new questions.
  4. List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award logo in your post and/or on your blog.

Here are Blush and Brews’ questions, along with my answers.

1. What is something in your life that you regret not doing?
Spending a year in Amsterdam, my favourite city in the world.

2. New books or new school/office supplies?
I really do love me some new office supplies, but books make you a smarter and better person, and I think we can all benefit from that 🙂

3. Do you have any phobias?
There are lots of things that scare me, but nothing that I am phobic of.

4. What is your favorite hobby, aside from blogging?
I love to crochet Amigurumi, which are adorable little stuffed animals that are way cooler than your grandma’s crocheting!

5.  Do you have an all-time favorite movie?
I have a special place in my heart for the movie Troop Beverly Hills. It’s by no means award-worthy, but it’s sweet and fun and I loved it and watched it so much as a kid that I knew it by heart!

6. Unlimited money or true love?
Well this blog isn’t called The Money Study, so definitely true love!

7. What is the best thing that has happened to you this week?
My best friend’s 2-year old daughter learned to say my name 🙂 🙂

8. What three words best describe you?
Cooky, sassy, nerdy.

9. Tell me a joke.
If you’re Canadian going in to the bathroom, and American coming out of the bathroom, what are you when you’re IN the bathroom?
ANS: European!! (Get it? You’re-a-pee’in)

10. Who is your role model or someone who has inspired you?
Those who know me will surely roll your eyes at my answer, but I’d have to say that Lin Manuel Miranda has become an inspiration to me over the past year. Not only is he hugely talented as he wrote, composed, and starred in Hamilton, but he is also pretty OK at giving back. He is in the process of raising money for relief efforts in Puerto Rico, he invites classes of high school students to see Hamilton in NYC for free (as part of their history class) and then has meet-and-greets with them (my cousin went with his class, so jelly), and he’s raising money for the Natural Resources Defense Council, in a joint effort with his wife. Oh and from stalking him on Twitter, he also seems like a pretty nice guy… I’d totally date him, hehe.

11. What’s your most embarrassing moment?
One day when I was 18, I was on the way to my friend’s house when I took my usual detour to drive by my crush’s house. To my surprise (and horror), he was actually outside playing basketball and totally saw me. Once we made eye contact I had no choice but to slow down and wave while flashing an uncontrollably terrified smile. It was in that moment that, while still waving, I heard a loud honk! It was a Domino’s Pizza car and I had almost driven into it. I was mortified. In retrospect, that should have been the first indication that I could never survive a Slutty Study!

My nominees

My Questions

  1. What is the last TV show that you binge-watched?
  2. What song or movie title best describes your life or personality?
  3. What is your guilty pleasure?
  4. Would you rather have 20 fingers or no fingers?
  5. What made you decide to start blogging?
  6. What would be the #1 tip would you give to a new blogger?
  7. Where is your dream travel destination?
  8. What blogger inspires you the most?
  9. What is your favourite food?
  10. What is your least favourite food?
  11. What is your ideal Saturday night?

Can’t wait to hear your answers!

Whoa there tiger

If you were to scroll through my online dating profile pics you would see some pretty basic stuff. Not to say that I don’t look like a sexy fox, or like the coolest girl on the block, obviously, but I still try to keep it real. Like there’s a picture of me in front of a gorgeous view in Spain, one of me in front of the poster of my favorite musical in NYC, and me at my most recent birthday holding a glass of bubbly. I try to keep my pictures representative of me on an average day, and I especially keep them non-obnoxious. I’m never leaning over showing my cleavage, nor am I ever so done up that when I meet a guy in person he’s all “New phone who dis? this is NOT what you looked like in your pictures”. I think it’s only fair that way.

So when I’m swiping on Bumble or happn, I already have in mind what interests and attracts me vs. what makes me laugh at you. I wish there were more to represent us than than just a few snapshots, but that’s just not how it works. At least not at first.

I immediately swipe left (that means NO to you online dating virgins, lucky ducks) to guys whose pictures don’t seem like my vibe, and I swipe left AND roll my eyes when the pictures are of their motorcycles or of them topless in the mirror.

But yesterday I came across a mirror selfie that made me laugh out loud. His top was still on, but was lifted up just above his nips, and his pants were undone, but again still on. I was so struck by this picture that I had to take a screenshot of it and share it here with all of you. I made sure to cut his face off since I’m only a medium-level a-hole.

A few things really did it for me:

  1. His shirt not being completely off– is he too lazy to actually remove the whole thing? Might you only lift my top to that level if we were to ever get it on?!? Or does he have really nice abs and pecks but super ugly shoulders so he’s trying to conceal them? After all that work that would be a huge bummer.
  2. His shirt not being completely off (again)– he’s putting the focal point on his toned abs and pecks. I mean they are indeed very nice and he must have worked very hard to get them like that, and maaaaybe I wished my abs that were as nice, but to me he’s making it seem like it’s the only thing that matters, like even his face is secondary! Especially since he’s looking down at what he surely considers his work of art.
  3. His pants are undone– your pants? Really? You want to show that you know how to use your zipper? That you really like your CK undies? It makes me feel like he’s trying to sleep with me through the iPhone screen! Though if that’s his goal then congrats, accomplished!

I already know what attracts me. When there’s very little to go on other than pics, those pics become

Love a good quickie

Out of all the dating apps out there, the one I like most is called happn. If you don’t know it already, it gives you potential matches based on people who also use the app and who you happened (get it?) to have “crossed paths” with throughout your day. It even tells you the intersection where you crossed! Creepy and cool at the same time, right? I know. I guess it uses your phone’s GPS, and it’s surely tracking my every move and knows what I had for breakfast this morning, but I’m not ashamed to admit that it just doesn’t bother me, well for this purpose at least… I like knowing that my matches live or work or hangout in areas where I live or work or hangout, it makes me feel like we already have something in common. Is that weird?

Anyway, I matched with a dude who owns a restaurant around the block from me, and even before sending my usual “Hey, what’s up?” opener, I started thinking about all the free food I could get if we actually hit it off. Once we started chatting, I learned that he is also one of the chefs of the restaurant. Owner AND chef? Ooh la la! Love me a guy who can cook so I don’t have to (pretend to). I’m telling you, this happn app knows what’s up.  Turns out he also lived pretty close to me. Bonus points all around.

After a few days of chatting, we decided to meet up, but immediately ran into a problem. He worked every afternoon and evening, and I worked every weekday. We just couldn’t find a time where neither of us was working. We kept bouncing possible days and times back and forth, but nothing was matching up, it was starting to feel like it would never happen happn. We finally came up with with something that kind of worked and somewhat resembled a date- me joining him on a break from work to go walk his dog on a Friday late afternoon. It wasn’t ideal for either of us, but it was good enough.

Friday early afternoon rolled around and I got a message from him saying that he wouldn’t be able to make it for our quasi-date since one of his employees called in sick. This whole “restaurant owner” job was starting to look a lot less cool, and was becoming pretty inconvenient for me. WTF. He asked if we can push the date to later on that night, but I already had plans with some friends. Meeting this guy was starting to feel like a lot more energy than it was worth. I wasn’t mad, but I was starting to write him off in my head based purely on the fact that we may never be able to meet. Maybe living and working in close proximity to each other wasn’t always enough!

The next morning I had kind of forgotten about my potential personal chef and was in the middle of running some errands when I got a message from him. He said he was free for the next 2 hours and could meet if I was free too. *Clap emoji*.  For some reason I was impressed that he hadn’t given up on us meeting, and also by his spontaneity. We agreed to meet in an hour at a nearby café and then walk back together to my house and his restaurant.

All of the sudden I was excited about this date. Not because I thought I was about to meet my soulmate, but because it had a set end time! No awkward lingering at the end, no Sh*t is he bored, should we call it? am I bored? should we get the cheque? It made me think of the episode of Sex in the City where Carrie was “expiration dating”. Great minds, amirite?!?

So we met at the café, but by the time he got there we really only had 45 minutes together before he started work at 2pm. Even better. I was pleasantly surprised to see that he was better looking in real life than in his pictures, and I was equally surprised that I actually enjoyed talking to him in person. We stayed at the café for about a half hour, where I asked him all about his restaurant and what I can get for free if I was his girlfriend (joke!), and then we walked back towards our places, said goodbye, and continued on with our days.

When I got home I was happy that it was a decent date, but I was even happier that it was a fast date! Holy sh*t I think I’m on to something here.  As a first date, like I’ve said in a previous post, the goal (for me) is just to see if I can tolerate the guy’s stupid face, to make sure that I don’t hate him when we meet in person. If he seems OK enough, THEN I’m happy to do something a little more substantial for the second date, like dinner or something.  OMG this expiration date idea was brilliant, how had I never thought of it before?! It was just long enough to decide if I wanted to see him again, without taking up too much of my time or energy. Even if it had gone badly, I wouldn’t be annoyed since it was just 45 minutes of my day! I wouldn’t have wasted a Thursday evening on him when I could have been at home watching Scandal in my pajamas.

For this quickie date, I another thing that I liked was that we sat for a bit, but we also walked for a bit- something about seeing him in motion felt like I was getting a better initial feel for this internet stranger. Also, on a first date I like to go for some non-committal drinks, and although we’re not having an entire meal, I usually feel the need for a 2-drink minimum, like that it’s the polite thing to do whether it’s going well or not (sadly, the ladder is more common). But this one was short enough there was no time obligation, so conversation didn’t run out or feel like it was dragging. I’ve had dates where I’m having a good time, but because we each ordered that third drink or the service was slow, we both started getting tired and conversation started to feel forced, leading to a false not-so-good end.  This way it left me wanting more. I was amazed.

Is there any way I could execute this type of date again in the future? It was just circumstantial that it turned out this way, but it was so smart and effective! Is it just because I’m so cynical that this idea excites me this much? Like since most of my first dates are the pits? I’m not going to lie, I’ve actually had the thought of wanting to FaceTime with a guy as a first date so I can decide then and there if he’s an awkward weirdo and not waste my time by leaving my house. Yes I know, I should be ashamed of myself. Nevertheless, this expiration date seems like a perfect middle-ground!

What do you think about my version of expiration dating? Would it interest you? Any ideas on how to make this the norm? Let’s revolutionize the dating world! Who’s with me?



Just me?

Ok 😉

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There’s a first time for everything

Long before the Slutty Study was even a thought in my mind, I took a Caribbean cruise with my family, which included my parents, my 3 brothers, and one of their girlfriends. Back then I was way shyer than I am today and would never have dreamed of documenting any of type of dating, flirtation, or hanky panky on a blog for the world to see. That being said, I think most singles are plenty happy to keep a lookout for a vacation fling, this shy girl included.

It was formal night on our cruise, so the whole family headed to dinner in our cocktail dresses and suits, with freshly sunburned faces to match. After dinner us “kids” decided that we couldn’t let our formal-wear go to waste by going back to our rooms, so we hit up the tacky cruise nightclub, knowing full well that we were way too cool for it.  Nonetheless, I was in a hot dress on my way to da club- I obviously had my single girl antennae up.

When we got there we were disappointed to see how unbelievably desolate the place was. We were about to turn around and leave when I convinced my siblings to stay for just one drink. So we sat at the bar making fun of the 60 year old couple and various other weirdos living it up on the dance floor. In all of this people-watching we must have missed the fact that a new guy came in and was sitting just across from us on the other side of the bar. When we realized that he was alone and decent looking, my brothers and gf instantly starting encouraging me (more liking pushing and teasing me) to go talk to him. Like I said before, I was a shy non-thirty-something non-slut, so this idea terrified me, but I was also away from home and in vacation mode, so it also excited me. On top of this, the guy kept looking in our (well, my) direction, so we figured it was really his invitation for me to go talk to him.

So I did.

I walked right the heck over, sat down next to him and said hey what’s up? Thankfully we had read him correctly and he was, in fact, single and ready to mingle. We started chatting and it was actually not-so-bad. Don’t get me wrong, there were no fireworks or gazing into each other’s eyes, but it was still good enough, and that was really all I needed! I soon learned that he was way younger than me (early twenties and I was in my late twenties), and immediately started to stress. It took all my mental energy to force out the voice in my head that said “are you sure you want to be talking to this barely legal boy?”, and replace it with “of course I want to talk to him, I’m not searching for the love of my life here, just a tolerable enough guy for tonight”, and tolerable he was. He was from upstate New York, charming enough, and not so smart. Perfect recipe for a vacation fling. So I continued on.

An hour and a few drinks later, conversation started to die down, so we mosied on to the dance floor, and before long we were making out. In that moment, I was a mix of freaking out and freaking proud of myself. I mean, I spotted a guy, went up to him all alone, chatted, and now we were making out. I don’t know about you but in my books I call that “picking up”. What a success. I guess I’ve always had Slutty Study in my blood 😉

But then, a few minutes in, mid-dancefloor make-out, he asked:

“Wanna f*ck?”

Yes, he said that to me, or more like word-vomited it out. Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t expect any extreme chivalry from this young, not so classy kid, but I didn’t expect that! I mean, getting down on the dance floor could very possibly have led to some stateroom bow chica wow wow later on, but I was a little shocked to be asked flat out while we were upright, fully-clothed, and in public. Call me a prude, but most of all, I was way put-off by his choice of vocabulary. Damn. Would it have bothered you? Just to clarify, I wasn’t bothered enough to leave, just bothered enough to notice…! I smiled timidly and politely said, hmmm, maybe later?!

So we stayed on the dance floor for a little while longer and then decided to go sit down on some nearby couches. He led the way and when we sat down he turned to me and said:

“Man, did you see the way those *n-words* were looking at you? ”

But he said the actual word. That word.

I was speechless. No words. My ears were on fire and my heart started racing. He wasn’t trying to joke, and this wasn’t a rap song, neither of which would have been ok either. He really just referred to a group of people using (what I consider) the most offensive, loaded word in the English language. Maybe I’m privileged to be able to say this, but I had never witnessed such blatant racism live in front of my face, let alone with someone I had just made “friends” with a few hours earlier. Wow.

Horrified, I immediately questioned him about it but he just couldn’t see the problem with what he had said. His defense was that he caught the group of guys checking me out (and clearly felt threatened), and therefore thought it was a perfectly valid time to use that word. I tried to reason with him but it was quickly apparent that there was no use.

I told him that that is not something I could ever tolerate, and that I needed to leave. He was shocked and tried to change my mind, but I had already blocked him out, and to my own surprise, I had even become little nervous sitting there next to him. I got up while he was still talking and raced out, checking behind me to make sure that he was not following me. I was that freaked out. I got to my room and thank goodness my brother was up and I was able to tell him what happened and calm down a bit.

Luckily my siblings knew what he looked like so for the rest of our time on the cruise I had them on constant lookout so that I can walk away in case I ever saw him again. Thankfully it never came to that.

How’s that for a change in direction?  I’m sure you didn’t think that the story of my first time picking up in a bar would lead to the story of my first time meeting someone who thought racism was OK, I know I didn’t! And although I’m proud of the way I reacted and stood my ground in that situation, that experience was a huge reality check for me; it showed me although much progress has been made, racism still exists, and is not as far away from my little world as I may once have thought….




Yoga Guy (Finale)

If you missed the first parts of the Yoga Guy saga, see here, then here, and then here.

So I met him. Oh boy. Here’s how it went down:

We rescheduled to meet on Friday, so on Thursday night he texted (thank god) to confirm.  Mid-text it dawned on me that I truly had no idea who I would be looking for once I got to the bar the next day. I mean I tried to Facebook stalk him, Google him, even find him on LinkedIn and Instagram, but as you know, he was no where to be found. Seeing as I was about to meet the most untraceable person out there, I flat out asked him how I’ll know who he is when I get there. We were meeting after work on a Friday so it’s possible other guys would be hanging at the bar waiting to meet friends (and I’ll be sure to check each of them out too, don’t you worry).  He answered that he’ll be the one in a plaid blazer.

A plaid blazer?

I couldn’t tell if he was joking and I wasn’t sure if it was funny. What’s a plaid blazer? Is that some kind of hipster thing? Was it some kind of he doesn’t know how to dress thing? Of course him providing me with info on how to find him ended up confusing me even more, I’m starting to notice a pattern here….

Friday arrived and I woke up with a full-blown cold. A throat hurting, nose running, take 2 Advil Cold & Flu every 4 hours type of cold. But there was no way I was cancelling this date.  As I left work at 5 and raced to the bar where we were meeting, I realized that my Advil-induced 4 hour feel-better window was starting to close. Once I got there I rallied, took a deep breath, and walked in. The host told me that Yoga Guy was here and was sitting upstairs. Here goes nothing. I got upstairs and searched the room for a plaid blazer, but couldn’t find one. What I did find was the only guy sitting alone, so I went up to him and introduced myself. Thankfully it was him, and it was only once I was within 2 feet of him that I saw the microscopic “plaid” squares on his jacket- they were really more like checkers. In that moment I realized that stressing about what a plaid blazer said about him last night was 5 minutes of my life that I’ll never get back.

Anyway, I was about to sit down when I found myself oddly confused, and it took me a few seconds to realize why.  He was seated in a corner booth, and because the bar was pretty small, there were only the 2 corner spots to sit in, no chairs on the 3rd and 4th sides of the table. A little presumptuous, no doubt.  But the weird part is that he was sitting in neither of the 2 adjacent booth spots, he was sitting in the actual corner, which was not even a seat! I was sure because the corner of the table was jutting into his torso. So of course I was confused, he was sitting in neither seat AND in both seats all at the same time! No matter which side I chose to sit at I would have to turn my entire body around to face him. Awkward on top of awkward.

I finally sat down but because I was nervous I started talking incessantly, and because I was feverish I immediately popped my Advils with the only glass of water at the table, which I can only assume was his. I then apologized for speed talking while downing pills in his face with his water. Who’s the freak now?  Thankfully he laughed politely at my antics.

The rest of the date was fine, nothing earth-shattering, pretty much no chemistry, but still fine. He did have a cool story about how he had a small speaking role in a movie with a well-known actor, and spent a summer training with him (physically) for the role.  I later wondered if he told that story to every girl he went out with, like if that was his “first date story”. I then realized that I didn’t have a first date story- is that something people have? should I have one? I just assumed my tactics of being cute, charming, and cutting (when necessary) were enough to lure the boys in. Have I been doing it all wrong…? Maybe my milkshake wasn’t enough to bring all the boys to the yard… and that’s why I’m here writing this blog instead of a mommy blog. Damn.

Close to 2 hours in, the Kleenex I had been using the entire time was getting soggy and I was on the verge of being too tipsy to drive home, so we asked for the bill and headed out.  As we said our goodbyes he leaned in for a kiss kiss on the cheeks while also attempting to shake my hand, or at least take my hand, and I got so uncomfortable with both that I blurted out “you don’t want to touch me, I’ve been holding snot in my hand for the past 2 hours” (referring to my Kleenex). Well. That stopped him in his tracks. As he laughed in shock at the stupidity that came out of my mouth, he responded with “oh, and here I thought I was going to be all romantic”. ROMANTIC?! Romantic?! Dude it’s a first date, who said anything about romance? On a first date all I care about is making sure I can tolerate your stupid face. Save the “romance” for Valentine’s Day…. Luckily I was able to keep a straight face after he said that, and I thanked him for the drinks and ran away.

He texted me a few days later to ask how I was feeling, which was very nice of him, but the messages died out pretty quickly. I think it was clear to both of us that nothing would come of this. Looking back I think that his sole purpose in my life was to provide me with intrigue, entertainment, and hundreds of words-worth of blog posts, and for that I thank you, Yoga Guy.

Best of luck with your next phone call.


PS. Although I think Advil Cold and Flu is a miracle drug, this post was in no way sponsored by them. However, in the off-chance that you are reading this, Mr. Advil, have your people call my people 😉

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