Last week was brutal. I had auditors in town in the early part of the week and was working 14 hours a day while they were here. I am travelling all this week for work and I decided that I deserved a day off, so I took a personal day on Friday.
Earlier in the week I had made a deal with the manager of Home Depot to buy a hot tub they had on the floor for the past year. I negotiated a great deal but when I showed up Friday morning to pick up the tub they tried to "renegotiate" (read: increase the price). I spent the better part of two hours trying to get them to honor their original deal. While I was waiting around the contractor's desk for the managers to decide if they were going to be gentlemen, I struck up a conversation with the DeWalt sales girl, who was working their booth. She was cute, if I saw her in a bar I would probably say "Eh, she's OK", but after a few hours in the Rhode Island Ave Home Depot she was starting to look like Heidi Klum. Her perfume was really the kicker, I kept getting whiffs of it was she walked around and it was really sexy in contrast to the normal BO and pressure treated lumber odors that permeate the store.
After what seemed like another hour the manager returned from the back of the store and said I could have the tub for the price I was promised, so I paid and waited another 15 minutes for a forklift. While the clerks were prepping the tub the manager appeared again and told me that the manufacturer had gone out of business and that he could not get me a cover as he had promised. He also said I would not be able to get parts if the tub broke down. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My car was parked at the loading dock and the forklift was getting ready to lift it up and put it on the trailer. I told the manager "No deal, I want a refund", what good was the tub to me without a top or parts? I was considering asking DeWalt girl if she wanted to join my friends and I at a party to break in the tub, but that apparently wasn't going to happen. I got a refund and returned to my car (another 20 minutes).
As I got in the car some old guy came walking up to my truck swearing and waving his arms. He called me a "fucking asshole" for parking where I had. I was on the phone and wasn't listening at first, but I guess my car blocked the dock and kept him from getting a load of lumber put in his truck. It was a dick move, I have to admit it. As he got to my window my dog, who was in the back of my truck, went ape-shit at him, barking and growling. She did not approve of his aggression and was going to bite his face if he got any closer. After what I had just been through I was considering doing the same to him. In the end he walked away so I started the car and drove off.
After the Home Depot escapade I was exhausted. I finished up some stuff at my place, drank some beers, and went to bed.
Saturday I met three buddies for crabs at one guy's house, then we headed out in Arlington. As usual I drove instead of taking a cab or the metro, so I had to keep it under control so I could make it home.
We went to three or four bars in the Clarendon area. At one bar one of my married friends chatted up a mediocre blond girl. When she looked away for a second he caught my eye and made a "layup" gesture to me and waved me over. She was from out of town and, as promised, was a layup. However, I was unimpressed by her and decided she was more trouble than she was worth, which is unusual for me. I generally pluck low-hanging fruit like her, but I wasn't in the mood for what was sure to be a lot of mind-numbing chit chat, and a lot of convincing to get her to come home with me.
I'm in a phase (I believe it's temporary) where I am only interested in very skinny, very tall girls. Oh, and they have to be gorgeous. I have been this way since I got back from Argentina, where this is an accurate description of almost every female I saw. I realize this sounds shallow, but I can't change what I am attracted to.
In the end my buddies and I made our way to some diner at 2am where I housed two chili-covered hot dogs and a mound of fries. We left the diner and I dropped everyone off at their houses and went home.
At the diner I was confident that the spicy goodness of unidentifiable pig parts and chili were a far better choice than a slightly over weight blond from Atlanta, but as soon as I got home I regretted not taking her with me. There was nothing I could do at that point so I watched TV for an hour and called it a night.
I spent some tim on the bike on Sunday. I rode to The National Harbor to see what that was about (very strange, it's like an artificial town, it should be in Epcot), then ran out to Mount Vernon, which is always a nice ride. It was hot as balls on the bike, so I cut my ride short and went home.
I hit the road tomorrow for North Carolina for a week.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Friday Night
I haven't heard from Wendy since Sunday. Too bad, she was a cool chick, probably the least-crazy I have run into in a while.
Meeting some friends out for happy hour tonight in Chinatown. Happy hour usually lasts until the wee hours of the morning, but I am hoping that is not the case tonight. One of the guys I am meeting really enjoys his vodka. His wife is ready to deliver their first kid any day now, so I have a feeling he's going to be pounding vodka tonight. Last year we met for happy hour on a Friday and he came with me to a party after despite telling his wife he was only "going out for one or two drinks". My last recollection was of him dirty dancing, solo, in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in the living room with the other guests cheering him on. There's nothing quite like a 35 year old (male) pole dancing in front of a few dozen chicks.
I am generally disappointed with the happy hour crowd. I don't go all that often, but when I do it seems to be mostly dudes. I have a feeling women like to go home and change before going out. I really have much luck with ladies and happy hour. Maybe tonight will be different.
Meeting some friends out for happy hour tonight in Chinatown. Happy hour usually lasts until the wee hours of the morning, but I am hoping that is not the case tonight. One of the guys I am meeting really enjoys his vodka. His wife is ready to deliver their first kid any day now, so I have a feeling he's going to be pounding vodka tonight. Last year we met for happy hour on a Friday and he came with me to a party after despite telling his wife he was only "going out for one or two drinks". My last recollection was of him dirty dancing, solo, in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in the living room with the other guests cheering him on. There's nothing quite like a 35 year old (male) pole dancing in front of a few dozen chicks.
I am generally disappointed with the happy hour crowd. I don't go all that often, but when I do it seems to be mostly dudes. I have a feeling women like to go home and change before going out. I really have much luck with ladies and happy hour. Maybe tonight will be different.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
V12 Mercedes
I will start by saying this has nothing to do with dating, this is simply a social observation.
Every morning I arrive in the parking garage of my office and back my car into my space. Parked next to me each morning is a white Mercedes SL600 V-12, MSRP:$139,000. It is always there before I arrive (I get in very early) and is impeccably clean, like it had just come off the showroom floor. After I park and stare at the car for a few second I go into my building. On my way to the elevator I get a bagel at the deli in the lobby run by a nice Asian couple, tip the lady at the register a buck, then head to my office.
I could afford to drive pretty much any car on the market, but I would never spend $140K on a vehicle at this point in my life. I think the car is beautiful, but it's also pretentious and I would be embarrassed if someone in my office saw me driving it, especially in this economy. I also think that unless you are so wealthy that $140K is a rounding error to you, that vehicle screams "I have a small dick".
Though I had never seen the owner of the car, I had already written his bio in my head. The owner was a man (a woman would never spring the extra $30K for the twelve-cylinder engine), in his early 60's, in shape but grey and balding. He would be a partner in one of the law firms upstairs, and would likely be a trial attorney. He would be dressed to the nines but would play Frank Sinatra just a little too loud as he drove out of the lot.
Monday morning I left work early and as I was walking out of the stairwell in the parking garage I saw the white Mercedes rounding the bend and coming towards me. I was excited to see if the driver was as I pictured him in my mind. I couldn't see in the windshield until the car got very close to me because the florescent lights left a glare on the uber-clean windshield. When the car got about ten feet from me I was able to see the driver was the bagel cook at my deli, and his passenger was the cute little Asian woman I tipped a buck each morning. They waved to me but I just stood there with my mouth open. A second later I pictured her in her mansion wiping her ass with my $1 bill, the tip from that morning.
The dilemma I face is do I continue to tip the woman at the deli now that I know she drives a car that cost more than my first house? The service hasn't changed, but I probably need the dollar more than she does.
Every morning I arrive in the parking garage of my office and back my car into my space. Parked next to me each morning is a white Mercedes SL600 V-12, MSRP:$139,000. It is always there before I arrive (I get in very early) and is impeccably clean, like it had just come off the showroom floor. After I park and stare at the car for a few second I go into my building. On my way to the elevator I get a bagel at the deli in the lobby run by a nice Asian couple, tip the lady at the register a buck, then head to my office.
I could afford to drive pretty much any car on the market, but I would never spend $140K on a vehicle at this point in my life. I think the car is beautiful, but it's also pretentious and I would be embarrassed if someone in my office saw me driving it, especially in this economy. I also think that unless you are so wealthy that $140K is a rounding error to you, that vehicle screams "I have a small dick".
Though I had never seen the owner of the car, I had already written his bio in my head. The owner was a man (a woman would never spring the extra $30K for the twelve-cylinder engine), in his early 60's, in shape but grey and balding. He would be a partner in one of the law firms upstairs, and would likely be a trial attorney. He would be dressed to the nines but would play Frank Sinatra just a little too loud as he drove out of the lot.
Monday morning I left work early and as I was walking out of the stairwell in the parking garage I saw the white Mercedes rounding the bend and coming towards me. I was excited to see if the driver was as I pictured him in my mind. I couldn't see in the windshield until the car got very close to me because the florescent lights left a glare on the uber-clean windshield. When the car got about ten feet from me I was able to see the driver was the bagel cook at my deli, and his passenger was the cute little Asian woman I tipped a buck each morning. They waved to me but I just stood there with my mouth open. A second later I pictured her in her mansion wiping her ass with my $1 bill, the tip from that morning.
The dilemma I face is do I continue to tip the woman at the deli now that I know she drives a car that cost more than my first house? The service hasn't changed, but I probably need the dollar more than she does.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Wendy Part II
I am having a hard time writing this post, this is now my third attempt. This should be much easier than it is.
Here is a long-winded saga condensed into one paragraph:
This weekend I had friends in from NYC on Friday night, and Wendy had a party Saturday night. I really didn't want to take Wendy to dinner Friday because I was sure I would meet other girls out. At the same time Wendy never invited me to her party, and she was dancing around the topic in much the same was I was about dinner. I eventually broke down and invited her to dinner Friday because I felt guilty about excluding her.
There...fuck, I finally got it out.
So, eight of us met up at the restaurant on Friday, four couples, all married except Wendy and I. We had dinner then headed to a couple of bars in Dupont. I had a good time and Wendy eventually drove me home around midnight (she doesn't drink so she offered to drive). We made out a little bit in the car in front of my house, nothing major though. We also talked for a little while and made tentative plans to go for a motorcycle ride on Easter.
I worked most of the the day on Saturday and never called Wendy. I didn't think it was necessary for us to talk everyday. On Sunday I cleaned the bike, tuned it up a bit, then sent Wendy a text message asking her if she still wanted to go for a ride. An hour later I received a message that she had church, a dinner, and that it was too cold to ride. Whoa, this seemed like a lot to just come up on one day. I clearly did something wrong, I'm just not sure what. I responded "OK" and went riding without her (yes, it was cold for riding).
Now, let me tell you how this is going to play out. I'm a stubborn ass, so I'm not going to call her or text her again. She, on the other hand, probably had a legitimate reason for what I perceived as a sudden cold response, but she's going to be pissed that I never called her again.
One night, five years from now, in a dive bar in...I don't know...Altoona, I'll see Wendy and she'll say "You're an asshole, you never called me again." Then she may throw a drink on me. I will feign being surprised, and will say "You were a bitch and blew me off." We will end up making out in the bar, or a car in the parking lot, and nothing more will ever happen.
This is a pattern in my life and I am generally comfortable with it. The only thing that bothers me about this time is that I am more interested in a friendship with Wendy than having sex with her, but old habits die hard.
The only alternate outcome I can potentially see is if Wendy decides to call me, but I would say there is a very low probability of that.
Here is a long-winded saga condensed into one paragraph:
This weekend I had friends in from NYC on Friday night, and Wendy had a party Saturday night. I really didn't want to take Wendy to dinner Friday because I was sure I would meet other girls out. At the same time Wendy never invited me to her party, and she was dancing around the topic in much the same was I was about dinner. I eventually broke down and invited her to dinner Friday because I felt guilty about excluding her.
There...fuck, I finally got it out.
So, eight of us met up at the restaurant on Friday, four couples, all married except Wendy and I. We had dinner then headed to a couple of bars in Dupont. I had a good time and Wendy eventually drove me home around midnight (she doesn't drink so she offered to drive). We made out a little bit in the car in front of my house, nothing major though. We also talked for a little while and made tentative plans to go for a motorcycle ride on Easter.
I worked most of the the day on Saturday and never called Wendy. I didn't think it was necessary for us to talk everyday. On Sunday I cleaned the bike, tuned it up a bit, then sent Wendy a text message asking her if she still wanted to go for a ride. An hour later I received a message that she had church, a dinner, and that it was too cold to ride. Whoa, this seemed like a lot to just come up on one day. I clearly did something wrong, I'm just not sure what. I responded "OK" and went riding without her (yes, it was cold for riding).
Now, let me tell you how this is going to play out. I'm a stubborn ass, so I'm not going to call her or text her again. She, on the other hand, probably had a legitimate reason for what I perceived as a sudden cold response, but she's going to be pissed that I never called her again.
One night, five years from now, in a dive bar in...I don't know...Altoona, I'll see Wendy and she'll say "You're an asshole, you never called me again." Then she may throw a drink on me. I will feign being surprised, and will say "You were a bitch and blew me off." We will end up making out in the bar, or a car in the parking lot, and nothing more will ever happen.
This is a pattern in my life and I am generally comfortable with it. The only thing that bothers me about this time is that I am more interested in a friendship with Wendy than having sex with her, but old habits die hard.
The only alternate outcome I can potentially see is if Wendy decides to call me, but I would say there is a very low probability of that.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Long Distance Relationships and Cohabitation
Last weekend I stopped by my friend Brad's house to drop off some tools I borrowed from him. When I pulled up his brother-in-law, Martin, was stading out front talking on the phone, so I waved to him as I walked around to the back door. I talked to Brad for a few minutes, gave him the tools then headed back to my car.
Martin was just hanging up his phone as I was leaving so I waited for him for a second. As he got closer I could see he was having a rough morning, so I began the ball-breaking "Jesus man, rough night? You look like shit." He mostly just shrugged. Then I noticed there was a bump or cut on his forehead. "And what happened to your head, did you fall? You better lay off the sauce.". I've never seen Martin really drunk before, and certainly not fall-down drunk. By now Martin's sister (Brad's wife) was outside and put her hand on Martin's shoulder and said "He broke up with Kay last night." With that Martin walked down the sidewalk, crying, clutching his phone in one hand and his purse-size package of tissues in the other.
Let me give you the background on Martin and Kay. Martin is from the VA area, but Kay was living somewhere in the midwest when the two met. They did the long distance thing for a while and after six months Kay moved to DC and in with Martin. Things seemed to be going well, everyone liked Kay, and Martin seemed very happy. Apparently things were not going that well. Martin felt suffocated because Kay really did not make any friends here and completely depended on him for her social life. They discussed the issue and after four or five months nothing changed so Martin finally broke up with her.
This brings up three important topics. The first is, should two people live together before they get married? The second is, how long should they date before they move in together? The third is, should a man ever cry in public. I believe the answers are: probably, a while, and never.
I have never been married and never lived with a woman, but I do think it would be important to live together before marriage. There are so many things you don't know about a person until you share a bathroom. However, I think a lot of people jump into living together too fast, what is the rush?
As for the public crying, that's just never acceptable. Never.
Martin was just hanging up his phone as I was leaving so I waited for him for a second. As he got closer I could see he was having a rough morning, so I began the ball-breaking "Jesus man, rough night? You look like shit." He mostly just shrugged. Then I noticed there was a bump or cut on his forehead. "And what happened to your head, did you fall? You better lay off the sauce.". I've never seen Martin really drunk before, and certainly not fall-down drunk. By now Martin's sister (Brad's wife) was outside and put her hand on Martin's shoulder and said "He broke up with Kay last night." With that Martin walked down the sidewalk, crying, clutching his phone in one hand and his purse-size package of tissues in the other.
Let me give you the background on Martin and Kay. Martin is from the VA area, but Kay was living somewhere in the midwest when the two met. They did the long distance thing for a while and after six months Kay moved to DC and in with Martin. Things seemed to be going well, everyone liked Kay, and Martin seemed very happy. Apparently things were not going that well. Martin felt suffocated because Kay really did not make any friends here and completely depended on him for her social life. They discussed the issue and after four or five months nothing changed so Martin finally broke up with her.
This brings up three important topics. The first is, should two people live together before they get married? The second is, how long should they date before they move in together? The third is, should a man ever cry in public. I believe the answers are: probably, a while, and never.
I have never been married and never lived with a woman, but I do think it would be important to live together before marriage. There are so many things you don't know about a person until you share a bathroom. However, I think a lot of people jump into living together too fast, what is the rush?
As for the public crying, that's just never acceptable. Never.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Date 11: On the Wagon
My long dry spell ended with my date Saturday night with Wendy. Overall, I had a great time but I just don't see this going anywhere beyond friendship.
Wendy and I met in January and have been friendly since then. We would see each other almost weekly through mutual job-related training, and would talk during breaks and sometimes briefly after work.
D11-Wendy: Wendy is a lot of fun to talk to. She is well-traveled, smart, and has lots of energy. Wendy works in the fitness industry, so she is in great shape and is very healthy. Wendy is about 5'6", thin, with medium-length dirty blond hair and blue eyes.
When we talked on the phone on Friday Wendy said that she would like to watch some of the NCAA basketball games, and asked if I wanted to meet at Buffalo Billiards. I agreed, but was a little confused because I knew she didn't drink. When Saturday rolled around I decided it was just too nice out to be holed up in that dank basement bar, so I suggested we meet up a little earlier and take a motorcycle ride. I picked up Wendy at her apartment and we headed out.
We rode on the bike for about an hour then stopped at a bar to watch the UCONN game and have a bite to eat. After the game it was getting cold out so we dropped my bike off at my house and grabbed my car. It was at this point that the night became a little awkward. I was having fun with Wendy, but I really wasn't sure what else to do that night. Normally I would suggest we go out and grab a drink and talk, but I wasn't comfortable asking her to go to a bar. I didn't know if she was on the wagon and being at a bar was tempting or distracting to her. But I also didn't want to just hang out at my house, there's really nothing to do there.
Eventually we decided to go to The Rock and Roll Hotel to see a few bands play. Neither of us had been there before but we had both heard good things about the joint. It was definitely strange inside, but it was crowded and the bands were entertaining (though equally as strange as the venue), so we had a lot of fun.
By 12:30 I was starting to get a little tired but I wasn't sure how to end the night. We had been with each other since five in the afternoon and I was ready to head home. This is normally the point where I would ask the girl if she wanted to come to my place for a drink, but that wouldn't have made any sense since Wendy didn't drink.
This brings up another point; I wasn't all that interested in hooking up with Wendy. I am not sure why, but I am not physically attracted to her. I feel somewhat bad saying that because she's a great person and I liked spending time with her. Actually, I would like to continue to spend time with her, but I don't want to date her.
Here's the really ironic part, if I didn't like Wendy so much I probably would have tried to bring her home the other night. If it was some random girl that was annoying and I knew I would never call her again I would have slept with her simply because it's been a few weeks. Even more ironic is that some chick on my last blog, DC Lawyer, criticized me for treating women like "objects that you...conquer and throw away." You could certainly make a case that I have done that in the past on occasion, but I wouldn't say that's my modus operandi.
We finally left the bar and I drove Wendy home. When we got to her house we kissed each other good night and that was it.
As a side note, it will probably be years before "DC Lawyer" has sex again. In the back of her mind, every time she meets a guy, she will wonder if it's me getting ready to conquer and thrown her away.
Wendy and I met in January and have been friendly since then. We would see each other almost weekly through mutual job-related training, and would talk during breaks and sometimes briefly after work.
D11-Wendy: Wendy is a lot of fun to talk to. She is well-traveled, smart, and has lots of energy. Wendy works in the fitness industry, so she is in great shape and is very healthy. Wendy is about 5'6", thin, with medium-length dirty blond hair and blue eyes.
When we talked on the phone on Friday Wendy said that she would like to watch some of the NCAA basketball games, and asked if I wanted to meet at Buffalo Billiards. I agreed, but was a little confused because I knew she didn't drink. When Saturday rolled around I decided it was just too nice out to be holed up in that dank basement bar, so I suggested we meet up a little earlier and take a motorcycle ride. I picked up Wendy at her apartment and we headed out.
We rode on the bike for about an hour then stopped at a bar to watch the UCONN game and have a bite to eat. After the game it was getting cold out so we dropped my bike off at my house and grabbed my car. It was at this point that the night became a little awkward. I was having fun with Wendy, but I really wasn't sure what else to do that night. Normally I would suggest we go out and grab a drink and talk, but I wasn't comfortable asking her to go to a bar. I didn't know if she was on the wagon and being at a bar was tempting or distracting to her. But I also didn't want to just hang out at my house, there's really nothing to do there.
Eventually we decided to go to The Rock and Roll Hotel to see a few bands play. Neither of us had been there before but we had both heard good things about the joint. It was definitely strange inside, but it was crowded and the bands were entertaining (though equally as strange as the venue), so we had a lot of fun.
By 12:30 I was starting to get a little tired but I wasn't sure how to end the night. We had been with each other since five in the afternoon and I was ready to head home. This is normally the point where I would ask the girl if she wanted to come to my place for a drink, but that wouldn't have made any sense since Wendy didn't drink.
This brings up another point; I wasn't all that interested in hooking up with Wendy. I am not sure why, but I am not physically attracted to her. I feel somewhat bad saying that because she's a great person and I liked spending time with her. Actually, I would like to continue to spend time with her, but I don't want to date her.
Here's the really ironic part, if I didn't like Wendy so much I probably would have tried to bring her home the other night. If it was some random girl that was annoying and I knew I would never call her again I would have slept with her simply because it's been a few weeks. Even more ironic is that some chick on my last blog, DC Lawyer, criticized me for treating women like "objects that you...conquer and throw away." You could certainly make a case that I have done that in the past on occasion, but I wouldn't say that's my modus operandi.
We finally left the bar and I drove Wendy home. When we got to her house we kissed each other good night and that was it.
As a side note, it will probably be years before "DC Lawyer" has sex again. In the back of her mind, every time she meets a guy, she will wonder if it's me getting ready to conquer and thrown her away.
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