Good Samaritan Gone Bad

November 9, 2007

I just had a really disappointing experience with a Good Samaritan who wanted to pay for his good deed with sex. Ugh.

I was driving home from an All Saints Eve Party where we had to dress like Tarts and Vicars like on Bridget Jones. I was dressed in fishnets, a white wig and a red dress. I wasn’t drunk, just kind of chill (if you know what I mean.) The next thing I know I lose the front left tire off of my car and it goes spinning off into the ditch. After getting it together to realize that it was my tire I was seeing spinning beside me on the road and that the sparks I see is the casing of my car scraping the pavement I slam on the brakes. I am in the middle of nowhere with Florida swamp on both sides and my car is also sitting in the middle of the road.

Not to be daunted I immediately got my cell phone out of my purse and proceeded to call for help. Battery dead. I don’t usually cry but all I could was sit there and bawl.

Then through my tears I saw this man rolling my tire up the hill. He was nice looking in his late forties and he had white hair instead of a white horse but he was Prince Charming to me in that minute that is for sure.

The first thing I asked him was whether or not he had a phone and he claimed not to. He did say though that he could give me a lift back to town and that his car was parked just over the hill. He had pulled over to the side when he saw my tire rolling down the hill at his vehicle.

We strolled down the hill to his car and the minute I got in I regretted it. All the guy did was paw me. He put his hand on my knee the minute the key was in the ignition. The whole time I was fighting him off and saying know. He was grabbing for breasts, crotch anything he could get. At one point he did get hold of one of my breasts and I slapped him. He stopped the car and ordered me out.

Believe it or not this Good Samaritan would not help me unless I had sex with him. After walking along the highway myself a few miles he did come back twice, slowly driving the car beside me as if hoping I would change my mind. All he did was really creep me out. However what creped me out even further was watching him pick up a cell phone and talk on it. It turned out he had a cell phone the entire time.

It took me about forty minutes to walk to the nearest gas station where the real good Samaritan, the attendant, helped me call a tow truck.

 

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Gay or Broke?

October 28, 2007

Okay this is ridiculous but yet another man saddled me with the bill for the dinner last night. This guy was gorgeous. He looked just as I remembered when I first met him in the department store in the woman’s glove department. We both had a fetish for white kid gloves with little pearl buttons. Cliché I know and at first I thought he was gay. I actually asked him whether or not to find out if he was and he said no. Of course after what I am about to tell you, you might think differently.

We went to a fabulous little restaurant on the beach. He picked me up in his silver sports car, which he said he had just paid off. Now I am wondering if he borrowed it. I was a little wielded out by the Liza Minnelli tape playing in the car on our breezy drive along the cause way. Still who is to think that gay men don’t like Liza Minnelli?

For most of the evening he acted just like Prince Charming. He made eyes at me, laughed at my stories and even touched my hand across the table. He spent a lot of time telling me all about his acting career and how well it was going. At one point he did say something about my shoes being the wrong color. He also made a comment about my hair color. I thought it was a little Queer Eye for the Gay Guy.

The dinner was superb. We had a super expensive bottle of wine, appetizers, main course, and even though I could not eat another bite, we ordered dessert. My girlfriend Sarah text messaged me to see if it was going well and I enthusiastically tested her back to say it was going great and there was no need to create a fake emergency or come stake out the restaurant.

After we shared two or three after dinner liquors and some chocolate volcano cake the waiter finally brought the bill. It turned out to be well over $200 for the wine and everything. My prince charming turns and looks at me and says, “Let’s go Dutch.”

I look at him really dubiously and he keeps looking at me back as if to say “What?” I then tell him that I thought this was a date. He then tells me that he was sorry he misunderstood and that he only has one hundred on him and that he has to go to the bank machine and that he will be back.

So he gets up and leaves. Guess what? He never comes back. I sit there for well over an hour waiting for him to return and he never does. I end up paying the check.

So I have only two conclusions about this. He was a gay guy looking for a free meal or he just really didn’t have the money to pay the bill and ducked out. Gay or broke – what do you think? Maybe it was both!

 

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Mr. Whatever

July 26, 2007

Have you ever gone out with one of those “whatever” guys? No matter what you ask them to do they just go “whatever.” It is the height of romantic nihilism and I think in terms of relationships, the height of irresponsibility and emotionally cold and unavailable. Whatever happened to the guy that is strong, determined and able to make decisions. I’m not asking for Prince Charming but I do like to be swept off of my feet sometimes.

I have been seeing this one guy on and off for a few months and the reason he will never become a boyfriend of mine for real is because he is a “whatever” guy. For instance the other night I was feeling kind of lonely and figured I would call Whatever Guy up to see if he just wanted to go hang around somewhere at a beachside café and maybe get something to eat.

So I phone him and say, “So what are you up to?” I am always nice and casual with no pressure and he says “Watching Seinfeld reruns.” Of course he never asks me what I have been up to. That is how Mr. Whatever lets me know that he could care less.

I then tell him that I thinking of going and hanging around on the beachfront and maybe getting a cup of coffee or something to eat and he says “I just had a cup of coffee.”

Even more disconcerting about this whole conversation is that I think that he was very much enraptured by the Seinfeld episode he was watching. So I say, “well you don’t have to have coffee you can have beer or wine or something else.”

This is his cue to say “whatever.”

When I then ask him what time he wants to meet he also says “whatever.”

Just as I am starting to get the feeling that he just doesn’t want to see me at all he turns it around and goes – “Which restaurant.”

I am not sure what I think of Mr. Whatever’s manner. My female friends say he is depressed and apathetic. My male friends here however say that he is not shy, or undecided or passive aggressive or anything like that. They say that they use the words “whate3ver” when they don’t want to see someone and that he might just be agreeing to see me because he has nothing better to do with his time and is bored. The men say that it is code for “don’t get your hopes up.”

All I have to say about that is ‘Ouch!” I think my mother would say that I deserve something better then the ‘whatever” man but oddly I am attracted to him. There is nothing like someone not wanting you to make you want them more. This is especially true if you have already had sex with him. It is one of the crazy laws of the universe when it comes to love.

 

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Who Am I Dressing Up For?

July 3, 2007

There are two versions of me that exist. There is one version that dresses as she needs to every day and then there is another version that is supposed to be wearing all of these clothes that are hanging in my closet. Of course these clothes never get worn. They are meant to be worn by some much more glamorous version of me that appears in a magazine or that is invited to parties where people like Lindsay or Paris are present.

For instance, in my closet there is a white crochet mini dress hanging there. This thing has more holes in it than a spider web yet somehow when I bought it I thought it was the ideal thing to wear to my next party out. There are just a few things wrong with it. First of all you need to wear a slip of some sort under it and the slip that would fit under this thing just isn’t made anymore. Second of all it is white which means that if I did go out and wear it that I would most likely spill something on it right away. Thirdly it is wool and it is too hot here in summer to wear wool.

So what was I thinking when I bought this crochet monstrosity with the wooden beads hanging on a cord that suffice for a zipper on it? I was thinking somehow that I was not really me, but that I was really Sienna Miller in Alfie or Factory Girl. This was a huge mistake that cost me a lot of money.

Yet another mistake a recently made was to try and dress like Anne Hathaway in the Devil Wears Prada. I responded to watching that movie by going right out and buying a pseudo Chanel suit knock off. I also bought a Grecian style dress and silver shoes and a pair of very high waisted trousers with suspenders. Trying this stuff on in the store I thought I looked like Anna Wintour, a Greek Goddess or Diane Keaton. Once I got home I realized I looked like an asylum escapee, underdressed or an unemployed clown.

Don’t get me wrong I do have some very nice clothes in my closet that I have bought that look great on me. The problem is that I am not meeting the kind of men who will take me somewhere nice in these clothes. It is like the clothes exist to attract some man that doesn’t exist in an alternative reality.

I have some gorgeous high heels but I can’t walk on the boardwalk or along the beach in them. I can’t even dance in them if I ever did get asked to go dancing. I have some wonderful chiffon and silk dresses as well but they are just not the thing to wear when my dates want to go drinking at the nearest University pub.

So just why did I buy all these fancy clothes when it is all an illusion? I guess it is the type of illusion that gives me hope – that makes me believe I will never grow old or become divorced one day and that my own Prince Charming is coming along any minute.

 

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