I know MANY of you keep asking me to update my blog. I still am working on my foray into blogger land, so hopefully this will appease you all!
I am not sure if this should be the right chapter to start off with but it's fresh in my mind. Apparently I'm broken in real life because the recent adventures in dating have been from contact made online. I consider myself an intelligent woman, I decided if I want to find a good LDS boy, if I'm going to submit to online dating, it had better be an LDS site for sure. Apparently my definition of GOOD LDS BOY is completely off. That is really the preface to this story.
Now, I consider myself as an equal opportunity dater. I try to keep an open mind as is apparent by my choices in which wards I chose to frequent. Most of my dating experiences have been of the international variety. When I say international, I'm meaning I've stopped by just about every port and country. Let me list a brief dating resume...we've seen Samoa, Tonga, Peru, Argentina, Syria, Columbia, Mexico....Samoa...Samoa...Samoa (a series of really WEIRD choices). I am not sure if it's me or what, but the white boys seem to be less into me than my brown brothers. Again, I try to be as impartial and accepting as possible.
I seriously can't get to the best part, I get distracted...thank heavens when my book actually comes together, I will have to edit if for your reading pleasure. So...My latest Internet date...let me tell you about it. For this one, we visited the Island of Tonga.
As a former fat girl it's tough to know when to walk away from a dating disaster. I met another brown boy online, we will call him T and his Big Guns. He started emailing me the last few days. We chatted a few times and then he asked for my number. So far, no complaints. Obviously I thought he was cute. And all the details on his profile seemed nice and I thought, shoot, why not? So I gave him my number, he called, he thought I was hilarious...that was a good sign. He asked me if I had plans for dinner. I could have acted like I was cool enough to have 10 options, but I'm a horrible liar, just ask my mom. ANYWAY...I said yes. He said he'd be here at 7:30. Enough time to get ready.
First bad news of the night...I didn't hear from him until almost 8pm. STRIKE one. When he did come through it was almost 8:30 but I was hungry and my roomie had already left for the night. He called from the parking lot, and told me to come on out. STRIKE TWO. OH...he also rolled up sporting two big fattie diamond earrings. Really? I mean REALLY?
So he took me to a buffet, which was fine because if you've been to one Asian buffet, you've been to them all. I actually knew the ones that served Tongan food. I'm only a little ashamed of that knowledge. We make it in through the doors and I'm already laughing inside about how ridiculous we look. I had on heels and he had on a sports jersey. Not sure if this was a match made in heaven or not.
The kind lady at the front told him the total for two. He started looking for his card. He kept searching. I looked at the cashier, we BOTH had seen this move before. Let me be clear, he asked me out. So he starts talking crazy about how he swears his debit card was here. At this point all I heard was, "blah, blah, blah." He left me at the front and went to "search" his car. I told the cashier, he had better come back. I also told her that if I paid, this would be the first and LAST date. Five minutes later he did, and I know you all are going to be shocked, but still no card. I paid because I was getting to embarrassed by this time. STRIKE THREE.
Now, I love my Polynesian friends, but watching them eat is a sport unto itself. He went through seven plates. This did not bother me, at least I know my money was well spent. It was a little concerning that he was dumping his unwanted goods on the table. Not only did I pay but I got to try to manage the wreckage. But what killed me is that the kid couldn't sit still. He kept saying he was one age and then another. Finally I told him to show me his ID because we all know he was full of it. I tried hard not to be mean, but he seriously made it so easy to give him a hard time. We spent almost two hours there, bless our poor waitress, she kept those plates coming.
Big T and The Guns, finally took me home. By this point I had taken the opportunity to call him on everything (the guy asked). He gave me some lame answer about The Islands and how they didn't know how to act on a date. The dude had been in the US since 2000 AND I'm confident that's not how they are raised. So he asked me when he dropped me off if he was supposed to walk me to the door. I told him to take notes. OF COURSE HE HAD TO WALK ME TO THE DOOR. Please guys, walk your dates to the door. I was a little concerned that he was thinking he had somehow earned that doorstep kiss. He settled for a hug.
So friends, what have we learned? Well, as my good friend Cynthia has stated, "Marie, you don't have to make out with everyone." We also learned that just because we are former fat girls, it's ok to expect a guy to be a gentleman. We also learned that while filing through the men still single and emotionally available, it's acceptable to tell them they need to step it up. We also learned that the standards set are the minimum, be confident enough to walkaway if he handles the crab legs like termites love a dead log.