Jesus, take the wheel…

Surprisingly, I was dateless on a Thursday night, so I went to my neighborhood bar for a drink after work. It was charity night with guest bartenders which sounds great but I usually dread it because I prefer my dive bar to be empty besides a handful of my closest alcoholic friends who are also regulars. I spotted two of them this night and plopped my ass right beside them. Bartender Doug slid my drink down before I even got settled and the guys and I started talking. Babes with Blades Theater Company was throwing the event for the night and had temporary tattoos for us to fuck around with. We made friends with Annie who was guest bartending and she and I talked about an old dive called the Oasis in Rogers Park and the badass woman named GiGi who has worked there for decades. One drink turns to two drinks and a shot and the boys and I chat back and forth about online dating while encouraging Annie to drink more Malort. We notice our beloved dive bar now is lacking their gorgeous 100 bottle Malort shrine and they’ve replaced it with a 20 bottle mystery shot shelf. (Not quite as impressive, Pat! Still cool though.) 20170526_235647167_iOS.jpg

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Vik asks us which bottle appeals to us most based on appearance and number. All of the bottles are covered in brown paper bags and numbered 1-20. Immediately I compare it to online dating. I tell them it’s similar to all of the dating apps because you have to just pick a random and hope for the best. You’re going in blind really. All you know is you’re not picking the short, fat bottle because it looks dangerous, just like you’re not picking the short, fat guy because EW. We come up with our own ideas for dating apps that we think would be better than Tinder and Bumble and all the others. “Jesus Take the Wheel” was the name Vik gave to our app idea that you’re not allowed to swipe on at all. It’s guided and directed by your friends and family only. We plan to market that one in the Bible Belt first, of course. I’m not expecting that one to do as well in Chicago to start.

Then, Vik drops some life-changing truth on us:

Women are the gate-keepers to sex. Men are the gate-keepers to commitment.

This explains why he swipes right on everyone and waits to see which fish bite. The more chances of getting laid, the better! But he’s right, unless GHB is involved. (Sorry. Not funny. True though!) Women decide who they want to have a second date with usually or who they want to go on a date with in the first place. At least I do. When I left my husband I lined up dates every night. Mostly because I knew I had no idea what I was doing on dates. I’ve been in non-stop relationships since I was 24 pretty much. As soon as I’d lose a guy, another would steal me and keep me a while before he did something awful and we split up. I needed to practice and get good at this dating thing again. Out of all the dates I’ve been on the past few months, few have ended in a second date and, obviously, fewer have ended in sex. I AM the gate-keeper!!! (Of sex, at least.) Most of the guys I had dates with wanted to see me again which means they had a strong interest in penetration as well. Duh. I controlled the outcome.

Men are the controllers of commitment and relationships though. Once you’ve dated for a while and you’re in a sexual relationship with someone, it means (usually) that the woman has decided she likes you enough to have a relationship. What it means to guys is, “Fuck, yeah! I bang this chick!” And he probably bangs a few others as well. Guys have the ball on this one though. They decide if it’s a green light or red on being committed most of the time. I’m currently waiting for the light to change with the guy I’m dating. It’s been two months. I’m stuck at yellow. I’m impatient though and I want to know where this is going, like yesterday!

In the meantime, I’ll get the Jesus Take the Wheel app going and pray to Malort that my friends and family can choose my match better than I can if this gate-keeper of commitment gives me the red light.

The Marathon Date

I met this guy after I did hair for a wedding on a Sunday. As I was leaving the job I got a message from him on Tinder or Bumble, asking if I wanted to meet and grab lunch. Yes, indeed, I did. I was hungry enough to eat a cow and that’s saying a lot coming from a vegetarian. We met at a taco place in Lincoln Park, had food and margaritas and laughed way too much and far too loudly. (Seriously, I think everyone hated us.) Usually that’s where I end first dates. Gotta leave ’em wanting more. Also, I don’t need them to see how much I can drink in a day. Two drinks with them. MAX.

Not today though! Despite the fact that I thought he resembled a goldfish, he was fun and I had nothing better to do with the rest of my Sunday than continue hanging out. That day we went to 8 different bars, played Pac-Man, Skee-ball, pool and trivia. He met several of my friends and they actually seemed to like him! He begged my friend and her husband to spill some dirt on me or tell an embarrassing story. Unfortunately for him, my friends are fucking loyal. Also, there’s nothing for them to tell. I already told him about the one time I peed my pants in high school. And the other time I peed my pants in high school…

The day went well enough but I was getting tired and fucking hammered. My friends dropped us off near my place and then I blinked and when I opened my eyes the goldfish look-alike was sweating profusely while humping me. He then thought it was a good idea to talk dirty to me during the sweatiest sex of my life. I’ve never had sex with someone before and gotten up soaked from head to toe in their sweat. My hair was even dripping wet! Also, gentlemen, please don’t ever talk about your “big dick” or my “tight, little pussy” while you’re humping me. It’s fucking gross, weird and it ruins everything!

I couldn’t take it anymore. The sweat, the “you like it like that, baby!?”, his weird fish face… I pushed his big, slimy body away and swam through his sweat to the other side of the bed. He asked me if I had any food. I pretended to look in my fridge for something he could eat, knowing I only had hard-boiled eggs, celery, carrots and yogurt, which are not foods that a heavy-breathing, drunk man wants. I glanced in my cupboard and avoided offering him my almonds. “Hmmm, nope. I forgot to go grocery shopping.” I crawled back into the dry spot in my bed and he got dressed, on a mission for pizza and ice cream. He waits briefly for me to see him out and say goodbye while I waved, said “Lock the bottom lock before you go!”.

 

No pizza

When grown men lose their shit

I recently went on a swiping spree, as one does when she is bored on a Wednesday night. I had about 20 conversations going with different guys, which most of us know, usually go absolutely nowhere and you never meet because they all seem boring as hell. One guy took it to the next level. He asked me to meet and get drinks! I love drinks. I live for drinks. Plus, this guy had some hot abs in a couple of his profile pics. I was in.

Admittedly, I am only chatting or meeting any of these guys when the guy I actually like a lot isn’t giving me attention or making plans to see me. We aren’t exclusive…I don’t think? Who fucking knows anything these days. These other boys are just keeping me busy so I don’t psycho text my main guy. Also, I’m not putting all my eggs in one basket. Gotta keep my options open, just in case!

We plan to meet at a place between his place and mine at 7 on Saturday. Cool. Until…the guy I’m enamored with says he will meet me. All bets are off, Ab Guy! My boyfriend’s back! He texts me to confirm our plans and I tell him I had to stay late at work and I also forgot I promised my friend I’d attend his drag show. Yes, I lied! Yes, I’m an asshole! No, this was not the first time and I’m betting it won’t be the last! I asked if we could reschedule. Here was his response:

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Boy, bye!

Should I have kept the date? Yeah, probably. It’s rude to cancel last minute, I know, but shit comes up! In this dating land, you have to be flexible right? I’ve had guys reschedule dates with me and I just go with it! I don’t expect that their life is revolving around me – YET! I think I dodged a bullet with ol’ Tom here.