Gnome Run

Last year I agreed to run a 5K road race with my buddy C-Roc this Labor Day weekend. Like most of my poor decisions, this was decided at a bar after many, many grain-based drinks, and forgotten as soon as the booze wore off. Two weeks ago when C-Roc asked how my training was coming along and it all came rushing back to me.

I wrestled all through high school and did a lot of running during that period. We would run in the morning, have practice in the afternoon, then run again at night during dinner time because we couldn't eat. I even ran cross country a couple of years to get in shape before wrestling. But when wrestling season ended senior year I hung up my running shoes and have only jogged sporadically since then. I truly hate it (as an aside, I think people who decide to run marathons late in life are nonathletic clowns trying in vain to prove that they have some athletic ability...but what they don't get is that running is not athleticism. Anyone can run and win a race, they only need to be willing to train harder than their opponent).

A three mile run isn't a big deal, though. I could walk outside and run three miles anytime I want to, but I'll be running the race with C-Roc, my former wrestling training partner, AKA, Mr. Competitive. Anything we do together is a no holds barred fight for bragging rights that always degenerates into a physical brawl.

As an example, our junior year in high school the gym we trained at put in a boxing ring for "sparring". The day it was finished we checked out two sets of gloves and head gear and climbed between the ropes. For good reason we were afraid of breaking each other's ribs, so we said that only "head shots" were allowed, then stood there for three minutes and exchanged haymakers to one another's faces. My arms are longer so I jabbed him in the nose and kept him at a safe distance most of the time. After one stiff jab that I though stunned him I eased back for a second to let him gather his wits and he hauled off and landed an uppercut to my chin. I woke up on the canvas a second later with him standing over me laughing and the owner of the gym screaming at us to "take off that fucking gear and get the fuck out of the ring". We were never allowed to get into the ring, much less spar, again.

I should mention that C-Roc is built like a spark plug. He's five foot nothing, a hundred and eighty pounds of muscle, and determined like no one I've ever met before. He played center on our varsity football team and would routinely reduce opponents twice his size to tears. In the heat of battle he's like a Tasmanian Devil on Angel Dust.

When C-Roc and I became roommates after college we would have "feats of strength" challenges when we got home from the bars. Our favorite challenge was to see who could do more hand-stand push ups. We could each do a couple at the time before our arms would give out and we would come crashing to the carper on our heads. Another favorite was one C-Roc claimed was possible, but that we were never able to do, were called the "two legged table". This feat of strength consisted of getting on all fours on the ground and seeing if you could pick up your hands without toppling forward. Supposedly you can do this if you have enough core strength, but I think you need thirty pound calves for it to be possible. We tried on a regular basis and both have had cuts on our foreheads to remind us.

In the event of a tie after "feats of strength" we would wrestle until submission or blackout to determine the winner.

Even going to the beach was a competition. One day we were relaxing at the beach with Chuck and saw two little kids burying each other. C-Roc said to Chuck "I bet you couldn't bury me to the point I can't get out", and next thing I know there's a five foot deep hole in the sand near the water line and C-Roc is standing in it. Chuck filled it in until only C-Roc's head was above the sand and sure as shit he somehow got out. He was like the Hulk, he just growled, raised his arms then pushed his body out of the sand. If Jesus was walking by on the water I would have been like "Yeah, but Jesus, did you just see this shit over here?"

So basically what I'm saying is that I've been training so I can sprint three miles while engaged in hand-to-hand combat with freakishly strong gnome.

Sausage Finger Mimosas

Sausage Fingers just sent me a text asking if I would like to get Mimosas tomorrow morning at 7am when her shift ends. I thought she was kidding, but she isn't. If I didn't have to go to Richmond tomorrow morning I probably would have taken her up on it just to see if morning happy hour works like evening happy hour: people get off work, get drunk, then get laid.

Divorce Sucks

Once again, the fear mongers on our network TV stations worked everyone up into a lather over nothing. Hurricane Irene was a moist fart here in DC. I think the insurance companies could hedge their bets nicely buy buying stock in milk, egg, and bread distributors. Anything they would pay out in claims in an actual emergency would be more than made up by milk, egg and bread sales in all the false alarms.

I have to admit, I bought into the hype on this storm. I used Irene as an excuse to buy a Honda generator I've been pining over all summer (it can also power my boat), so that cost me a grand before the first cloud appeared in the sky. Then, just as the rain started I realized I only had a handle of white rum, a half bottle of dark rum and vodka each, three beers, a fifth of scotch, an unopened bottle of Hendrick's gin, and a full twelve-bottle wine rack in the house. Like any aspiring alcoholic, I wasn't content with this stash because I didn't know how long it would have to hold me. I mean, who knows how long the liquor stores would be closed, remember Katrina? If I was going to stranded waiting for a Coast Guard chopper to pluck me off my roof that would never be enough booze. I decided a Schneider's run would be prudent and picked up a case of Bud and an emergency bottle of Patron (for Cinco de Mayo, you never know...)

While I was at Schneider's it occurred to me that I only had a can of black beans, a moldy cucumber and hot sauce in my fridge, so I'd better stop at the grocery store (for mixers). It just so happens that there is a mom and pop market across from Schneiders. In retrospect, what I bought is amusing:

- two 1.5lb packages of 90:10 ground beef
- one 2lb package boneless skinless chicken breasts
- four pounds pasta (two pounds each Fettuccine and Rotini - let the record show I've never bought Rotini before in my life)
- one yellow onion
- one red onion
- one head of lettuce
- one package tomatoes
- four cans crushed tomatoes
- twelve limes (I think you can see where my priorities were)
- one package corn tortillas
- four boxes rice (??????)
- one package of American cheese singles (the hound can't get enough of them)

I love this list because it's both random, and useless. Almost nothing here can be combined to make a real meal (at least not a square one).

Anyway, enough about Irene.

I've pretty much given up on Asia. We've made plans four times in the past few weeks and we each cancelled twice. I'm sick of texting and trying to make plans, I don't have the patience to keep it up. The ball is in her court now, if she wants to get together she can organize it.

The same goes for Sausage Fingers, who has reached out to me a few times to get drinks. She works irregular hours and will ask me if I want to get drinks at 3 in the afternoon. She can't grasp the 9-5 work concept.

Last week I heard a story that made my stomach turn. My buddy come home from work one afternoon and his wife told him that she doesn't love him anymore, that she rented an apartment outside of NYC and was moving there with their two kids. they were having some issues, but it sounds like he was blind sided by her moving out. She has always been pretty much worthless. My buddy is a financial whiz and was sent to Portland Maine after college to turn around some company. While he was there he met his soon-to-be-ex-wife, who was working as a teller at the branch he banked out. She was young and attractive, but basically didn't have anything else going for her, so she used her good looks and my friend's big heart to get out of east butt fuck Maine. My friend, Hutch, is now worth tens of millions, or at least is until she takes half in their impending divorce. The truly sad part is that they have two young sons. so now Hutch has to deal with this cunt for the rest of his life because they have two kids together.

The really sickening part of the story is that myself and two other buddies each pulled Hutch aside just prior to his engagement and told him he couldn't marry the girl. She was a bitch before they got engaged, marriage wasn't going to improve her demeanor. More importantly, she had no ambition. She never went to college, and as soon as they got engaged she stopped working (and hasn't had a job since). So I figure she will probably walk away with about $8M after eight years of marriage. Maybe she was more ambitious than we gave her credit for. I really feel badly for the guy.

Wish this story had a better ending

Yesterday was a long, stressful, aggravating day on the road and in my new Richmond office. When I got to my hotel I had a drink at the bar, checked in, showered, then headed to an area in the southern end of the city known as "Shokoe Slip", which apparently means "Twilight Zone" in some ancient Richmond language. This is a bar/restaurant area kind of like a small version of Adam's Morgan.

Anyway, I picked a restaurant and took a seat at the bar with my book. Before I could even order a drink this hammered cougar accosted me. It was the usual nonsense "Oh, how old are you...how old do I look...I have kids older than you...where are you from..." She was old as hell but you could tell she was probably pretty cute before electricity. I entertained her for a bit, then she grabbed my hand and said "No ring?" I told her I was married but that I took my ring off and left it at the hotel. She wasn't fazed a bit, she plopped down in the empty seat next to me and threw her arm over my shoulder "Whatcha readin'?".

At this point I hear a young girl yell "Mom!", and the cougar jumped up and said "OK, here I come". Just before she walked away she whispered in my ear "I live in a big house up the street, alone. I have rubbers, I'm clean, I have test results showing that I don't have AIDS. I'll slip you a business card."

I can still hear her saying "RUBBERS". It sounded really dirty, and not in a good way.

So, first thought is that she's a hooker, right? But I don't think so. I really just got the impression that she's lonely old fart looking for someone to give her the high hard one, just to make her feel like she's still a hottie. That someone wasn't going to be me, that's for sure.

The plot thickens.

Turns out she's there with her daughter and a big group of her friends who are all in some medical grad program at one of the local universities. The girls were young, early 20's, and drinking wine by the bottle at a pretty good clip. I ordered some dinner and got back to my book.

While I was reading and eating one of the friends came to the bar and asked the bartender about two bottles of wine. One of the bottles she mentioned happened to be an Argentine wine that I really like, and probably the only bottle of wine I know by name, so I told her she should really try it.

The girl ordered the bottle and then another ten minutes later. While she waited for the second bottle she sat down next to me and we started talking. I noticed she had on a diamond ring, but she was being inappropriately flirty. I expect it from older women, but it was unusual for such a young girl because they are still in that (delusional) honeymoon period. As we talked the cougar came over to me and slid her business card into the side of my book and said "email me later".

Almost right after the cougar walked away her daughter walked over to the two of us and said "Who's this?", pointing at me. The girl said "This is the guy that recommended the wine" and the daughter said, in this really sarcastic tone "Oh, he must know something about wine because he's reading such a big book" then picked up my book and flopped it over to see what the cover was. I'm reading Keith Richard's biography, but she said "Yeah, see, really heavy reading, it's written by that Seinfeld guy". I laughed. She obviously had a very high opinion of herself and thought that she was very bright. I said "Yeah, pretty sure you're thinking of Michael Richards, the actor that plays Kramer. This is Keith Richards, he plays guitar". She waived her hand up into the air and said "Never heard of him, what band?"

I ignored her and kept talking to the friend, who had one hand on my leg and the other permanently attached to the wine glass. The daughter said "WHAT BAND!?!" I said "I'll give you a hint, it's one of your mom's favorites. Oh, and here, you can give her her card back, I'm not going to call her." and I pulled her mom's business card out of my book and handed it to her. She looked at the card for a second then stomped off, literally.

I asked the friend about the ring on her finger and she said that she has been married for 3 years. I could tell by the tone in which she replied, the look on her face, and the hand still on my leg that is hasn't been a happy three years. She said "So how often are you in Richmond?". I said that I will be there off and on for the next few months on a project, and she asked me for my number.

I realize I'm not the poster child for Christian morals, but I did have a moment of pause when she asked me for my number. I've hooked up with married women before but they were all in the process of getting a divorce. This girl was married and living with her husband. The distinction may seem like splitting hairs, I mean married is married, but it made me a little uncomfortable.

Not so uncomfortable that I didn't give her my number, though.

It probably won't be an issue. I'm sure she was hammered and I'll never hear from her again.

The girl invited me to join her and the cougar's daughter to a party nearby, but I had to be at work early in the morning and declined. I took a cab back to my hotel and that was it for the night.

Sausage Fingers

Strange fucking weekend.

Saturday afternoon I had plans to go out to the boat to get some work done, but I had a slight case of the Irish flu from the prior evening's festivities and spent most of the day on the couch. At noon I got a text from Nurse asking if I wanted to get together that night. After an obnoxiously long game of phone tag and fifteen text messages, we picked a spot and said we would meet at 8pm.

I don't know if women can't tell time, are inconsiderate, lack some punctuality gene, are disorganized, or what, but I just expect them to be 30 minutes late these days. So, I wasn't surprised when Nurse came rolling in at ten minutes to nine. I can't say I even minded, I sat at the bar and had a few vodkas and talked to buddy who works there.

When I met Nurse she was sitting, and I never saw her stand up, so when she walked into the restaurant Saturday I was surprised to see how tall and thin she was, she was almost my height. She had on a low cut black shirt and tight jeans. We had an awkward ass-out hug, then sat down. When Nurse sat down she leaned way forward and hung her purse on a hook under the bar. When she leaned over her boobs basically spilled out of her shirt, it's not like I was trying to look, and they looked a little too perfect.

Nurse-

The pros:
Nurse was cool. She's easy to talk to, has a good sense of humor, is into the outdoors. We have a lot in common and the conversation flowed well.

The cons:
She's almost a tom boy - a tall blond tom boy with a big fake rack. She's kind of a butter face, too. The most disturbing thing, though, is that she has the strangest hands. They are small, short...thick. Thick is the best way to describe them. They are small thick hands, with short thick sausage-fingers. They are the hands of a mason, or a midget, attached to a lanky blond. Once I noticed her hands I couldn't take my eyes off them. I couldn't decide if the thought of her hands on my cock were revolting, or cool because my dick would look giant being held by those short, thick, fingers.

Maybe she is a dude, I didn't think of that until just now. The fake boobs, the man hands. Is it rude to ask "So, do you, or did you ever, have a cock? Like, your own, attached to you? No. Great! Want to come over to my hot tub?"

The evening ended with another hug and we walked our separate ways. I don't think I'll call Nurse, AKA Sausage Fingers, again.

Friday I called Asia and left her a voicemail. I heard my phone ring while I was riding home from the office, and when I got home I saw that she had called me back and left a message. Asia was out of town this weekend, but said we should get together this week for drinks.

At 6:30 Friday night my boss called me and said that as of September 1st I was being given a promotion. New job, more responsibility, big pay increase, annual bonus, stock options, it's a great position.

Nurse and Asia

First off, I called Nurse last week and she's giving me the runaround. I don't care if she's interested or not, but why flirt with me, give me your phone number, then pull this shit?

Last week I called her and left a message on her voicemail saying hello and asking her to give me a call. Nurse responded with a text saying she was working the next few days then was going to be out of town for the weekend, but that we should get together the following week (this week). I said fine and haven't heard from her since. Classic blow-off. I suppose I've been guilty of the same once or twice.

Recently I've been going to Wednesday Reggea night at 18th Street Lounge. What I like about it, aside from the music, is that it has a strong following, so I see a lot of the same people there each week.

A few weeks ago I met this Asian girl who was there with this other chick I know. We talked for a short time and she seemed pretty cool. She is five years younger me, about 5'3", really pretty face, long black hair, and a great body (rock-solid legs). My friend later told me that she's half Asian, half Greek, which you would never know by looking at her, she look's 100% Asian, but I'd like to send her parents a thank you card for getting together - fantastic work! My friend wasn't sure what her Asian heritage is, so I'll just call her Asia.

The first night I met Asia my friend said she is a little shy and that some people say she's reserved and "boring", which is a let down because she was so cute. She arrived just as I was leaving and we only talked for a few minutes. She did seem shy, but I wouldn't go so far as boring.

Last night I was there with a group of friends from work and was at the bar waiting for a drink when I saw Asia. I poked her as she walked past and she came over and gave me a huge hug and a kiss. I thought "Jesus, I've only met her once, she's pretty friendly". She was there with the other girl I know, Maggie, so I asked them if they would like a drink. Maggie said she'd have a water, and Asia said she would have one of whatever I was getting, which was a rum and coke. I got the drinks, handed Asia hers, then made my way through the crowd to Maggie to give her hers. As we walked Asia held my arm and tickled the inside of my bicep. When we got to where Maggie was Asia turned to me and said "This isn't a water!" and I said "I know, it's a rum and coke, you said you wanted what I was having. Would you like something else?" She said she wanted a water and handed me the drink and went over to the bar. She came back a few minutes later with another rum and coke for herself. I turned to Maggie and asked what the hell was up with Asia, and she said that she was hammered.

Apparently Asia had gone out with some dude earlier in the night and had a bunch of drinks, then met up with Maggie and the three of them went to the bar. Then, they met up with some other dude that has been chasing Asia. So now the five of us are standing in a circle and the two dudes took turns trying to impress Asia, which got old quickly. After a few minutes of that nonsense I went back over to the group of friends I had some with and hung out with them.

Towards the end of the night the back porch had thinned out a bit and we were all standing around and I saw Asia off to the side sending a text. I had forgot my phone at home last night, so I walked over to her and said "Here, put my number in your phone", which is basically what I did with Beads. Asia typed in my number and hit send so her number would be in my phone. I told her I had left my phone at home, but that I would give her a call and that we would go out some time. Asia said "Well, we'll see, you haven't shown me much tonight". I asked what she meant by that, and Asia said that I hadn't shown any interest in her all night. I said "Well, I didn't feel like competing with your other two dates. There's a few too many roosters in the hen house." She said "OK, we'll see".

I went home shortly after that.

I have Asia's number, but I'm not sure she'll remember giving it to me. I firmly believe in "en vino veritas", so think that all her touchy-feely behavior when I first saw her is a good sign.

Nurse

This past weekend was "tenant turnover" at my Georgetown house, which is always a Chinese fire drill. I have 24 hours to get the old tenants out, make any repairs that are needed, then walk the new tenants through the next day. Obviously, I spent most of my weekend at the house, but I did manage to meet a cute nurse Friday night.

Friday night I worked late and wasn't in the mood to go out or cook, so after walking the dog I went down to 8th Street to get some take out. I went to one of my favorite spots down there where I know a couple of bartenders and ordered food. Before I was done with me order one of my friends slid me a beer and said "I poured this by mistake, have one on me". He's no dummy, he knows that if he can get me to have one, I'll probably stay for 4 more and eat there, which is exactly what happened. I bellied up to the bar and "take out" turned into 3 hours at the bar eating and drinking.

Sitting on my left was a blond girl talking to another guy on her left. I overheard bits and pieces of their conversation and it sounded like a first date. They were talking about what they did, where they had lived, and played the ""do you know" game, where you try to see if you have mutual acquaintances - "Oh, you lived in Chicago, my cousin lives there, do you know John Smith?". Yeah, I know your fucking cousin in a city of 4 million.

I shot the shit with the bartenders while I waited for my food, and after a while the blond girl joined our conversation. Turns out she's a nurse that just moved to DC from LA, though the details on how that transition was made are still a little murky. She definitely double-talked her way around the question, not that I care.

Nurse: The nurse looked a bit older than me, I guess she's in her late 30's to early 40's. She has medium-length blond hair, that looked natural. She had a cute face and bright blue eyes. I never got a good look at her body because she was sitting down the whole time. She could have rolled in a wheel chair, for all I know. However, she had on a sleeveless dress, and her arms were cut, so I am 99% sure her body was not bad either.

We talked about LA for a bit and she asked if I had ever been. I said yes and mentioned that it's nice but that I could never live there. I've spent a total of about 6 weeks in LA for work over the years and basically can't stand it. The weather is nice, but that's about the only nice thing I can say about the city. Naturally, she tried to tell me about all the great things her home town had to offer, and kept pressing me about what I didn't like about the city. Eventually I said it was a little pretentious for me, and that it was filled with people obsessed with "Fake tits and Ferrari's". It was right about at that point that I noticed she had a very nice size chest for someone who seemed otherwise petite. There was a momentary pause, but then she laughed and it didn't come up again.

Even with my ill-advised fake tits comment, she became very flirty. We talked for a long time, and I completely forgot that when I got there she seemed to be with another guy. Eventually, First Date Guy touched her arm and said something along the lines of "It was nice to meet you, I have to get going". They shook hands and he walked out.

The bartenders had dropped off my food, so as expected I sat and ate it there, had a few more drinks, and by 11pm I was ready to go home. We had talked about sailing so I suggested we go sailing some afternoon, and she said that sounded like a good time. We exchanged numbers, then I left.

On my way home I was stopped at a red light and Bartender crossed the street in front of me. She was walking with a blond girl and a dude. When she saw me she did a double-take, laughed, gave me a wave, then said something that I couldn't hear over the bike's engine. I nodded, the light changed, and I rode off.