Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Welcome to the East Coast

The experience of trying to find love is a difficult one for any woman. It’s a trying experience that includes rejection, bad dates, and a combination of a million different crazy experiences that make for nothing less than hilarious reading. No matter how challenging the average single-and-dating life may be, it is made infinitely more interesting (and challenging) if you are me. For those of you who are just “meeting” me, let me explain: I just so happen to be 6’1’’. Though I have nothing against men who happen to be altitudinally disadvantaged (to put it nicely), I just do not tend to be attracted to them. Along with being a matter of physical attraction in a relationship, it tends to lead to other relationship problems as well. Simply put: it’s damn near impossible to get a man to listen to anything you say when his eyes are the same height as your tits. Furthermore, when you have spent your entire life being taller than the average MALE, you tend to get a little tired of a few things. Some of them are frustrations that can be remedied for a price: can’t find pants long enough…buy them online. Get tired of people making up stupid nicknames about your unusually large size…step on them (joking!). But after 25 years of towering over men and women alike, a girl just wants someone who just makes her feel like, well…like a girl. So as difficult as it may be for the average woman to find a unattached, attractive, employed, honest man…let alone a man that I have any kind of chemistry with, that chance becomes probably about 80% less likely when you consider that that man also would be preferably over 6’4’’.

That all having been said, let’s open with the first date I went on as a Maryland resident. I’m relatively shy, and tend to be pretty shy about approaching people or flirting with people I just meet. There are, however, two exceptions to this shyness: when I am playing basketball and when I am drinking. It is when participating in either of these two activities that I tend to feel the most confident of myself. In fact, the majority of the guys I have dated have been guys I met and got to know through playing basketball. This date, unfortunately, was met during the latter of those two activities, and let me tell you, it is RARE that you actually meet a decent man out at a bar. I happened to meet this gentleman (I use that word as name only, not adjective), in a section of town that I rarely frequent. Our group had been drinking for the better portion of the day, starting with shots during the Ravens/Steelers playoff game and then continuing into the wee hours of the night. We spent several hours shaking our booties in a way that only drunken white girls have perfected and scoping the scene for men who tower over the crowd (a sure fire way to see if there is any eligible bachelors that fit my height requirement). All in all it was a fun night, what I remember of it.

Fast forward to the following weekend, I received a drunken text message from an unknown Baltimore number. After about 20 minutes of confused text messages and a photo swap, I finally had a moment of enlightenment: on my way out of the bar, a random guy had grabbed my ass. Apparently, as drunk as I was, I figured that was as good a way as any to introduce oneself, and left him with my number. I was new to the city, and decided to not hold the ass-grab against the guy, so we made plans for a date the following Friday. This is where it gets interesting.

Baltimore, as with most big cities, is home to an abundance of down home, locally owned, inexpensive, authentic restaurants. For a pretty cheap rate, you can get Mexican, Greek, Italian, fresh Maryland seafood etc, which I think is a huge part of the charm of living in the city. Where does Joe Schmoe suggest? OUTBACK. Yes, the place with those 5,000 calorie exploding onion things!
Now, Outback is a NICE restaurant, if you come from Flint, Michigan where culture and fine dining hardly exist. However, to eat there in a place like Baltimore where there are so many options, is a bit disappointing. But I decided not to hold it against the guy. On Friday I had to referee a couple of basketball games, hustled home, showered and put on a cute outfit. I drove over to Outback (because I have no intention of letting some random bar guy pick me up in his car) only to find out on the way that there is a 50 minute wait. Way to go sir, NOT making reservations on a Friday night. I am starving, so I suggest we check out another place in the area, and Bar Dude tells me he spotted a great place just up the road and to follow him there.
We pull into a shopping plaza and park. He hops out of his truck and excitedly escorts me…..right up to the door of Chick Fil-A. Awesome. Fast food on a first date.
Needless to say, that was the last I have seen of Bar Dude.
On the bright side, he did spring and pay for my chicken fingers.


  1. I'm so excited that you've put this story out there for everyone to enjoy! Still one of my favorite first date stories ever!

  2. Ha! Oh, my friend. I need to start posting some of mine, too!