Friday, April 11, 2008


I was on a blind date a while back....
Who it was wasn't important, because this story is not about my date. Although, yes, it did happen to be my blind date. 
And he said something about not knowing what I looked like. So instead of describing myself, I called over the bartender. The bartender and I aren't close friends, but we know each other. So I asked him to describe me to my date.
He said, "She's very Aryan... and she's got fantastic tits."
Thanks. You can leave now.
What is wrong with men? To my friends who are embarassed for me that I'm exposing my personal disappointments for the world to read, those who think I'm full of anger, well...wouldn't you be if this crap kept happening to you? Can you really blame me for gritting my teeth, clenching my fists and stomping around for awhile?
Maybe this is just karma hitting me in the face for something I did a long time ago. So I accept that I probably deserve a few bad things to happen to me before something good happens again. But it doesn't stop me from being completely astonished that so many of the men I've come across in my life treat women horribly, bumbling along without a clue as to how to respectfully treat a woman.
I mean, come ON. Aryan? 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dear Mouth, that is quite a picture. What if the bartender had said "your tits should be in a tit museum," instead? ;-)

O.K., seriously, I'm quite sure there is someone hiding in your basement as I write this. I'm going to have to get out my 2X4 and start womping you on the head with it until you figure out who it is.... I have lots of reasons why you should consider going out to dinner with him (again) without the rest of us weirdo's at the table. He had VERY GOOD KARMA! He is well-spoken, sensitive, intelligent, in-touch with his emotions... Not bad looking. And he sure as hell seemed into you, and best of all, he seemed like the kind of man who would jump in the deep-end.

Good luck tonight. Ah, except I hope you don't get "lucky" so to speak???

-- INA F.T.G.