The Vault: About Chuck

As promised, shedding some insight on Chuck...

The first time I met Chuck, there was a block party on campus, at one of the apartment complexes. It was one of those parties my roommates and I happened upon and just ended up talking, flirting, watching, flirting. In college, I was a bold little something. I said the first thing that came to mind in some situations...more or less a good girl, but a “huge shit talker”, in a nice way.

So I see this guy, who I’ve seen around campus before, walking around looking like a greasy imitation of Al B. Sure. He was a super duper super senior, and in a fraternity that’s non-descript, but somehow they appeared on campus. Anyways, I see him talking to this girl. She gives him her number and as soon as she walks away, he gives it to his friend and they throw it away.

I said something to him. In a funny, but kind of “I know you didn’t, you’re not-all that” sort of way.

A month or so later, I see this same guy after a night at the bar. And yet again, he’s acting like he’s the shit, again, walking around, this time with a sucker, being nasty the one thing that irked the hell out of me in college. So I yell out the car and tell him he’s not all of that. We’re going back and forth flirting talking shit to each other and next thing you know, we’re exchanging numbers, and somehow end up on my couch.

We ended up becoming really good friends after tons of debauchery and lasciviousness although he always thought I was kidding when I told him he was bad in bed, or that his extended member was small. He had such a big ego (why, I’ll never know) so he thought I was funny, a challenge, and made it his mission to prove me wrong...

It’s been about nine, ten years and we are still friends and to this day, I still let him know, he's not all of that, and he still has a small Mr. Chuck. I'm not an ego killer, he still has one...

The Vault: Mr Romantic (Part 2 of 2)

Sooo, we're on the couch watching the movie and I fall asleep...I know, bad right, but he got over it. He wakes me up and we go upstairs to his room. Now, a lot of things are going through my mind simultaneously, "do I stay, I'm tired, it's cold outside, he's gonna try to do me, even if he says he's not, he will try, I don't feel like driving, I should go"

I stayed (Bad Diva)...no sex. He tried. We fooled around. No sex. I woke up at the butt crack of dawn and tried to sneak out. He woke up and walked me to the door, asked me what I was doing for the day, blah, blah, blah.

So, we continue to talk, go on a few lunch dates...then it fizzles. Now there are some major things about Mr. Romantic that I didn't like. However, I'm trying to do a happy post, awww, hell, who am I kidding: he had a small man complex. He tried to BOSS me around and talk over me. When we would have a friendly little Political conversation, he HAD to ALWAYS be right (so he thought), he wore shoulder pads in his suits which gave him a weird upside down triangle shape. He was waaay skinnier than me, he almost looked mal-nourished, like he was on a bread & water only diet, which was a turn-off...other than that, he was ok....whew, ok.


He continued to call/text. We stayed in touch somewhat. Then one day, he said something that no guy has ever said to me before, "you don't want a man do you"?

WTF. Uhhh

Me: Why do you say that?

Him: I'm trying to be with you, but when I talk to you about relationships, etc, you stay stuff to make me think you don't want a man.

(You know what I was thinking in my head right?)

Me: (Silence) Uhhh, I do.

Him: No you don't.

Me: Ok

That was the last conversation we had for almost a year, until recently, when he used my side business (i.e. side hustle), and tried to find the PERFECT opportunity to bring up the fact he had a girlfriend...good for you...I don't care.

The thing I took away from our whole interaction, was that for once in one of our conversations, he was right. I didn't want anything at the time (at least with him), hell I don't know what I want NOW.

One minute I want a boyfriend, then the next I'm gallivanting to Jamaica, and drinking rum punch with my crush on a nude beach...

The Vault: Mr. Romantic (Part 1 of 2)

As promised, I went on some not so bad dates. Ultimately, the demise of the guys was due to lack of chemistry and attraction. They were ok, I mean they did have some qualities, I didn't quite like, hmmm, not really deal breakers however, let's focus on the positive!

Today, we'll start with Mr. Romantic. I met him online in late November early December of 07. We talked, e-mailed and text messaged each other for about two weeks before our first meeting. He was similar to his head shot, however he was extremely skinny in person, and his head was a big too big for his body...digressing, sorry. So anyways after our first meeting, we continued to talk and on Christmas Eve, he invited me to his place, in his words, "to pamper & spoil me". He promised dinner by candle light, massages (he was actually a massage therapist), the works. Since this was one of the few years I didn’t get to go home for the holidays, I agreed. Anyways, so we arrive at his place, and he starts getting ready to prepare dinner. I sit and watch him, and we chat. I offer to help and he adamantly declines, saying, "it's my day" then makes me a drink. So I'm making a mental note of all of this, he makes a pretty healthy meal (not that tasty), makes a really good drink, has Prince playing in the background, candles are lit...romantic right?

He puts his final touches on dinner, then has me to follow him to the table. But I was a little confused. There was only one plate.

Me: Aren't you going to eat?

Him: Yes, don't worry about me...

Me: But...

Him: Shhhh

He pulls his chair up right beside mine, as I reach for the fork, he grabs it, and begins feeding me. I will admit, this all felt very awkward. Like, maybe a little too much for a second date, and I never really had anyone to "feed" me literally. So dinner went on like that for awhile. He wouldn't allow me to pick the fork up or to do anything. After dinner, we head to the couch and watch a movie.

To be continued...

The Vault: Dessert On A Dime

So, I'm going home for a few days and I thought I'd reach back into the vault and tell you about a not so yummy dessert date. Around the same time I met the coke bottle glasses guy I met this other guy...we'll call him "Tyrone". I went on a binge and went out like 5 days in a row with my boy Chuck who was here visiting. The week he was here, I met like ten guys, most, ok all under the pre-tense of alcohol...what's new? Anyways, so the following week, I made it my mission to go out on as many dates as possible just for the hell of it. Tyrone called me one day to see if I wanted to go out. During the conversation, he kept complimenting me, and you know, just being really nice, etc, etc. How bad could it be right?

I had a dinner date the day we agreed to go out, so I suggested dessert. He offered to pick me up. Although I don't agree with guys picking me up on the first few dates (i.e. stalkers lurk), I agreed because at the time I lived in a fairly large apartment complex. So anyways, Tyrone gives me the disclaimer, that he really didn't have a lot of money. Being nice, I suggested we go Dutch, I just got out of college myself, so I knew how it could be. And, I mean we were only doing dessert. Surely that wouldn't be a problem. He says he could pay for "our" desert and that he'll call me when he's downstairs.

He picks me up in an old Cutlass or something along those lines. I didn't mind that. I'm not a car snob, however, when I opened the door, I was smacked in the face, by thick fog (i.e. Mary Jane, 4-20, weed). Ok...so I know where this is going. He was decent looking. Subtract the years of inhaling, he probably could have been an 8, throw on some nice clothes, he could have been pushing 9.5. Digressing.

We go to Clyde's. Clyde's was my choice quite often back then because it wasn't too far from my place, it was in a well lit area, and the prices were decent. We sit and chat & place our orders. I skip the drink and get like a $5.00 dessert and water, mind you I had just came from a dinner date, so I wasn't really hungry, or pressed for food. We talk, have a good conversation, then the bill comes. He reaches for it and puts it down. I wait a few seconds, then I pick it up. It's $13 something with tax.

Tyrone, then proceeds to pull out change...i.e. coins...i.e. not dollar bills.

Tyrone: Hey, I'm sorry I don't know if I have enough. I went to the Metro today and they gave me back all of these quarters. Can you take care of the rest?

Me: Uhhh, ok, how much do you have?

Tyrone: $3 something

(the fucker, didn't even have enough to cover his dessert or tip)

Me: I got it.

So I paid. (Mind you, it was only like $13.00, but how lame is that, right???) Anyways, we get up and leave and I'm still chill. He asks me if I'm ready to go straight home. I use the excuse that it's late and I have to work in the morning. We pull up to my apartment complex, he decides he wants to talk. What in the hell do we have to talk about????

He then proceeds to ask me if we should finish our conversation upstairs....uhhh, my apartment??? (no way) I kindly decline...citing the work thing again.

Tyrone: But why? We were having such a good conversation and I'm feeling you and I think you are feeling me too. I just wanna talk.

Me: I really do have to get up early, sorry. Besides I don't know you like that.

Tyrone: But that's why I wanna finish our conversation, so you can get to know me. I promise, I'll sit on the floor. I gotta get up early too.

Me: No. Sorry. Drive safely. Thanks for a good evening.

I get out the car, no looking back, pissed because he couldn't even afford his "own" dessert, and he wanted to "come" up...WTF???

I get upstairs, and he calls me to try to make his case again.... NO, HELL NO. NEEEEEXXXXTTTTT!


(I promise the next time I dig in the vault, I will pull up an exceptionally good date!!!)

BTW, went out with Jason today, more on that tomorrow!!!

The Vault

I’ve been on a ton of dates, some really, really great one’s and some from hell. Since it’s wet and rainy here, I decided to dig in the Date Vault, and tell you about this one time...in Purgatory Hell.


I attract all types of guys. You name it, I attract it. Well remember Fetish guy, i.e. Stalkerface? The reason why I am not giving him a chance is because he reminds me of this guy I met a few years ago. I don’t remember his name, but let’s call him...Mr. Holy.

So I think Mr. Holy and I met online. In fact, we did. It was when Mr. Henry was living with me, and I was at my wits end, because of our “situation”. So I decided, enough was enough. I was going to start seeing other guys.

Now, Mr. Holy was extremely attractive. He worked out at least 3 or 4 days a week. He had a beautiful smile, and was tall, dark and handsome. I think he was in the military or something. Anyways, after some e-mails and phone conversations, we decided to meet. I picked up Indian food and went to his place. (I know, bad Diva) He supplied the horrible cheap wine (can we say I hate white Zinfandel, it’s like the worst ever), he said he didn’t drink, and didn’t know what to get. Uhhh, anything but this crap I thought. But whatever, I only planned on having one glass.

So we are sitting on the couch talking and this nutcase, I mean, nice guy, starts getting all Holy on me. He’s quoting Bible verses, and saying how he is a child of God, he doesn’t drink or smoke or do drugs blah, blah, blah.

So I’m sitting here with Mr. Holy, trying to come-up with my exit strategy, when he asks me if I want a massage.

Side Note: Guys think they are slick, they will offer a back massage, next thing you know, they are in their socks and silk boxers, and you’re wondering why he has clap on, clap off lights, and slow background music playing in the background. And they always insist you have to remove your bra, shirt, etc. so they can reach your back.

I digress.

So, I’m hip to game. I’ve been in this situation many a time.

Me: Naaa. I have to get home.

Mr. Holy: You scared? I just want to give you a nice massage. Trust me, I’m a man of God, and John....something, something says...

At this point, I’m thinking to myself, this guy is really a nutcase. I need to exit, now!

I go to the kitchen and put my glass & plate away. He follows me and asks me if I want more crap wine. (No Thanks, Nutjob, you might put something in it)

Me: I really better get going

I reach for my shoes and purse.

He steps into my personal space and tries to give me a kiss.

I check my phone. It’s 9 something.

Me: I’m sorry. I really, have to go. But we’ll finish this another time.

After trying a little bit harder to convince me to stay, he finally gives up. I don’t know, maybe he went and prayed or something.

So yeah, that’s why I have a thing with Stalkerish guys, who claim to be “Holy”.

He was a nutjob and a half.

(P.S. I looked in his medicine cabinet, and he had a ton of cold sore lip medicine...that freaked me out)