Recently I’ve been exploring the aspects of the ‘dating’ world and needless to say, it’s been quite interesting. So interesting, I don’t even know where to begin. The whole experience recently has been quite daunting.

Dating actually reminds me of a Starbucks. Although I’m not a coffee drinker, I do frequent the place with friends/coworkers occasionally. Every time I go, I’m amazed at the menu. All of these coffees/chai/cappuccinos/frappucinos/venti/grande are quiet confusing and so is dating.

I guess being that I’m such a picky person, I tend to dissect EVERYTHING about a person. I can literally size up a man in less than 10 seconds, from head to toe. It seems as though the men I’ve recently met and/or gone out on dates with all seem as though they’ve jumped off the menu of a Starbucks.

Mr. Short Caramel Frappucino

Typically I have a height requirement when it comes to me. I like my men to be at least 6′1, because at 5′10 I tend to tower over anyone shorter than that when I have on heels. This guy was originally from NYC so that was a plus and he’s been in the area for about 10 years. When we first started to talk he wasn’t shy to tell me that he prefer his women to work out. He wanted to know what gym I worked out at and why didn’t I go more often. I told him currently that I run after an 8 yr old most of the day so that’s more than enough for me. I also explained to him that although I probably could afford to loose about 10 lbs, that he’s way shorter than the men I would even normally give a second glance to, so how about him gaining about 4 inches being that he was only 5′8. What was also leary about him was his enthusiasm to let me know that he was a DC cop. As if that impressed me. So I decided to ‘name’ drop. Of course out of the bunch of cops that I know in DC he didn’t know any of them and specifically one from his own unit. How ironic. Gotta love a liar. In any event, after that first ‘date’ there was the automatic ‘disconnect’. Toodles Officer Short Caramel Frappucino!

Mr. Tall Vanilla Bean Frappucino

I’m a sucker from anyone with a New York accent. It reminds me of home and is always welcoming to hear instead of the country accents that I come across living in the MD/DC/VA area. So here comes Mr. Tall Vanilla Bean Frappucino. Originally from Long Island, tall (6′1), Italian guy. We talked about everything from how odd some people are down here, how we can’t find any good pizza or the opposite sex. Typically, I wouldn’t normally be attracted to him physically, but his personality is what stood out. The first thing he said is that I reminded him of Janet Jackson, but then he quickly changed that to PENNY from “Good Times”. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been referred to as ‘cute’ so many times in my life. We decided that we would have to hang out again and meet up for some drinks. The next day I received an email from him saying that he thought I would be ‘thicker’ in person. I had to blink and re-read the email b/c I think I’m ‘plenty’ thick…LMAO! No one has ever made any complaints about any of my ASSets. I told a few friends what he said and my guy friends think he may mean that he likes women with BIGGER BREASTS. FYI, I’m proud of my C’s! In any event, I recently spoke with him and brought up the email and he started to laugh. He let me know that he actually prefer “THICKER” women, I’m like damn. I can’t win worth trying. He’s not even someone I would normally ‘date’ and here he is complaining about my lack of “THICKNESS”! Damned if you’re thick, damned if you’re not!

Mr. Venti Mocha Frappucino

What can I say about this guy. I mean damn, he was gorgeous. 6′7, nice smooth skin, smelled good, dressed nice. Seemingly PERFECT physically. Our conversations were always great, so I really didn’t’ have any complaints until when we finally met, HE OPENED HIS MOUTH!

My handsome Mr. Venti Mocha Frappucino suddenly started to look like this:

I swear I couldn’t stop staring at this man’s mouth! He had the worst teeth I’ve ever seen! Brown, rotten, crooked, piled on top of each other!! Now, why is this man driving a brand new car and not have his teeth fixed??? If you have credit to finance a car, you can finance some cosmetic dentistry. I’m sorry, I can over look someones height, and a few other things, but TEETH, I cannot look past those! The next day I logged onto the Lumineers (a form of veneers) website and sent in an inquiry using his email address and phone number, hopefully a consultation will soon follow!

In any event, dating is hard work. You have to sift through so many damn frappucinos until you find the one that’s perfect for you. Then, who’s to say that they’re actually ‘perfect’ for you. I know alot of women who settle just out of the frustration of trying to find the one they really want. I refuse to settle, and in life, I’m not drinking coffee…I prefer my men to be similar to a fine wine. Plus, I’m lactose intolerant.

I was talking to a cousin of mine the other day, and we realized that all of the “Moldly Men” we have dated, whether it took their looks to grow on us or their personality, it backfired in the worst ways! Some of these men turned out to be some of the biggest assholes ever. I half seriously and half jokingly told her that I refuse to get suck in by someone who I think could grow on me. For now on, if there isnt’ that immediate attraction, be it physical or mental, I’m not going to let them mold on me, but fold them away like an old outfit that I never plan on wearing again. Because in the long run, I think I’d rather go about my life knowing that if I happened to break up with someone or vice versa, it was someone who there was that immediate ‘click’ with, not with someone that I had to make concessions for.

Of course, after I let it slip, the first thing he asked me was what do I write about? My only reply I could think of was, “Stuff”. He asked me what exactly did I mean by stuff, because that answer was quite vague. I told him it’s usually whatever is on my mind at the time, anything from people I may encounter, work, things I may have saw on the news or read in the newspaper. His next question was if I wrote about men.

(insert awkward silence)

Now, I could have answered this question a number of ways. Truthfully, by telling him that occasionally I may write about people I’ve come across in general, not just men. Or, I could have told him, “Of course not, I don’t divulge information about my personal life”. Well, I guess depending on the way you look at it, both of those answers are true.

As predicted, he asked if I wrote about him (he’s an egotistical man) and I told him no and that I doubt I would. He asked what was the last thing I wrote about, and I told him it was about a man’s (f?ng’k?) feet. At this point, I’m wishing he would change the subject because I could already tell where this was going.

“Well you wrote about a man’s feet, Who was this man? And you couldn’t write about me?”

(as you can tell he’s quite predictable and likes to have his ego stroked)

Truth be told, I let him know that I was actually going to write about him in regards to the fact that I think men who own cats are ’suspect’ to me. Needless to say, he didn’t like that answer or sense my use of sarcasm.

(Actually, I do find men who own cat(s) quite weird)

Once again I tried to switch the subject, but before I could, he asked the one question I hate answering when it comes to my blog and friends who don’t know about it.

“Well what’s the name of this blog of yours? I want to read it”.

S L O W your roll, buddy.

Many have asked, even more haven’t received an answer. I love the anonymity of hiding behind the moniker, (f?ng’k?) [blak] [chik], especially when it comes to not divulging it to other people that may possibly become a victim of a ‘drive by blog post’.

I didn’t tell him how to find my blog and he became somewhat offended.

“Oh, I’m not special enough?”, he asks.

“Is that a rhetorical question, especially since I haven’t known you that long?”

(insert dial tone)

Yeah, that ass hung up on me. All because I wouldn’t tell him what the name of my blog was. If he knew me well enough he’d know that I’m somewhat a private person, even down to the fact that when he asked me what my last name was, I gave him the wrong one, well not exactly wrong, but my mother’s maiden name.

So at this point, he’d be happy to know that he has now been immortalized in a blog, but I guess he’ll never find out since he decided to rudely hang up on me. That sealed the deal on him not ever hearing from me again. Boy do I hate egotistical men who need constant stroking.

Picture this scenario. You’re relaxing on the couch and enjoying a movie after an evening date with a tall, handsome recently retired NFL star. The two of you get comfortable and remove your shoes and start to stretch out on the couch. After a few minutes, you take in a deep breath and the scent of Fritos lingers across your nasal passage. You look down at your feet and realize that you’ve never had an odor problem in regards to your feet.

The only obvious explanation is that it’s the other person’s feet! Now, you think to yourself, “If I can smell this stench, I’m sure they can too!”. Where are the odor eaters when you need them?

Yes, people, his feet smelled horrible. It was like I was sitting on top of Frito mountain in the middle of Summer. Hot. (f?ng’k?). Feet. How appetizing, especially after a dinner of seafood!

I tried to squirm to the other side of the couch but of course he moved in closer and wrapped his arms around me. I tried to breath through my mouth, just so I could smell as little as possible. That did not work. I thought to myself, “Does he not smell his feet?”. I realize this is a common problem for men, but if you’re 30-something years old, your feet have been (f?ng’k?) for a while, it didn’t just happen over night!

It was hard to pay attention to the movie, because all I could think of is how am I going to approach the subject. Should I blatantly come out and tell this 6′6 man that his feet stink, maybe he should go and wash them and put his shoes outside to air out? Or, should I just sit there and grin and bear it? I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before the movie ended so I just sat there breathing through my mouth for the rest of the evening.

A few days later we spoke on the phone and it took every ounce of energy for me NOT to say something about his feet. Eventually I blurted out, “You really should throw away those shoes you wore the other night, they’re causing your feet to stink”. There was a few seconds of awkward silence and he started laughing. He told me I was the first woman to mention the fact that his feet smelled and that he appreciated it and that he’ll definitely invest in some foot powder and get rid of his problem shoes.

Who knew it would have been that easy. I wish I would have said something while we were watching the movie, because I would have actually been able to pay attention to it, instead of trying to divert myself from the (f?ng’k?) feet!

Move over Dr. School’s, Japan has minty insoles!