Become famous! Wait... Get an e-mail read on the air and then become famous!

With the help of my friends at The Bert Show on Q-100, we are going to be reading some of the e-mails you've sent me over the air periodically and answering your "ask the dude" questions with a real live 100% certified dude.

E-mail me at BlakeinAtlanta@aol.com for all your "guy-to-girl" translations, outside opinions, or just to tell me I'm full of shit. It could get on the air! But it absolutely will get an answer. And isn't that what we're all looking for anyway? An answer? ::sigh::

As there are lots of guys out there, be sure to give me an idea of what kind of guy you are dealing with. I don't want to mistag my marks here.

Blake assures you he was using his "radio voice" as he was typing this update. If he had a $50 gift certificate to Outback Steak House he would be taking callers at the moment.

Getting Laid: The ends justifying the means.

Something Jenn and Melissa said to me on the air the other day made a lot of sense. I’m not used to dealing with “good girls” in the early game so I stick to what I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being a “good guy” when given the opportunity. It's more me than me.

These days I meet women when I’m at a bar/club (fairly steady) or when I’m set up by a friend (more than steady). Our circles grow smaller as we get older, so what I know, is what I do. The only “rub” is that there’s a huge gap between what a guy uses when dealing with some girl we pick up and don’t really care about yet and the way we deal with a girl we are forced to respect from the beginning.

“What the hell do you mean “forced to respect!?,” you cry, sharpening your letter-openers and various other objects within reach of your computer.

Hold on. Let me explain. Single guys want to get laid… all the time. When we know we are probably going to be sleeping with you in the very near future, we don’t really have to worry about anything other than what it takes to get you there. There is a large group of guys out there to whom your mothers were totally right about.

Explained? No? Hmm… Well, remember that how your man thinks of you now is usually a helluva lot different than how he thought of you then. How did we think of you back then? Well for me, “She’s cute. Let’s do this.,” comes to mind. To be honest, a lot of us didn’t “think of you” in any way. I’m pretty sure we weren’t thinking about whether you were funny, sweet, had “kind eyes,” would treat us well, etc. I’ll learn to respect you as a person later, like after I find out if I’m even interested in learning that in the first place. For now, let me respect you for going back to my place because “I promise I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want you riding home with your drunk friends.”

“How romantic…” ::sigh::

Side note:
Maybe you don’t remember your guy lying to you or acting like you “weren’t such hot shit” to pick you up (that sadly works). Maybe your man was sweet and sincere and funny and charming. I’ve met a lot of those guys too. I’ve acted like that guy too. I probably AM that guy too. But that business don’t fly at Fever. (For the record I have never gotten laid as a direct result of going to Fever. However, I have never gotten a drink thrown in my face as a result either. Massive success!) That kind of guy wants to get laid (all the time), but doesn’t want to go through the work it takes to do it. It’d be nice to say he just won’t stoop to “those tactics” wouldn’t it? Heh… he would if he didn’t think about it so much. But no, he’s the one at the table drinking with his friends that keeps looking your way then fake-laughing at one of his friends fake-jokes, then looking your way again, then never getting up, then never walking over, then always going home a little too drunk and a little too alone… yeah… that’s the one. I have a few friends like that if you’re interested. Good guys. Normal guys. I’m usually with them at the table… until I remember I want to get laid… all the time. Back to the topic...

So let’s take the Blake look at the “semi-blind date/group date” opening. This is the area I imagine a lot of woman and guys find themselves (it’s always fun to not have to do work). However, in this situation I’m no longer dealing with the “You’re cute. Let’s do this,” scenario. Now I have to think about stuff other than getting laid. Your average guy has to like “listen” and stuff. Be honest about what he does, where he lives, who he is. This is a problem. I just recently behaved like a total ass to a girl I met out of a similar situation when she called-me-out for exercising my “inner-douche.” Now I’m back in it again with my sister-in-law’s best friend. I feel a little off balance. I can’t focus on saying/doing/behaving in all the ways I usually do in those first few weeks because those behaviors would get me severely beaten and taken off the “godfather list” for any future nephews (sister-in-law’s bestest friend in the whole wide world remember?). So now you’re telling me I gotta respect this girl enough to be myself and shit? That sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I can play that game too. This was just a lot easier when she was “just some girl I met” and I could focus on getting laid… all the time.

There is something flawed with this system. If the guys that act like pricks are getting both the “good girls” and the “bad girls” and the “good guys” are only getting the “good girls.” Then, when are the “bad girls” gonna get their “good guys” too? I have a headache, and it’s all bullshit anyway people. The truth is, the tail you pull is the tail you pull. There aren’t really “good and bad” people. Just “shy and confident” or “insecure and cocky” people. The guy at the bar may use a different front-end to pull you but you’ll get to know the real him down the line. (maybe he’s still worthless, maybe it was all an act) At the same time that sweet charming guy could turn out to be Charles Manson.

What do they say on the news? “He was such a kind man. Such a friendly man. I never would have imagined he was eating the toe-nail clippings of the neighborhood dogs and killing all those nuns with a pasta tong.”

So like I said in the beginning, I continue to stick to what I know. I play the same game any guy would to meet the objective, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a New Years vacation to Hilton Head to get to know you better. And I like remembering stuff you tell me. It’s pretty cool when you know someone’s favorite tree is an Oak. Wait… no it’s not… Christ… anyway. I guess that’s the difference between my two dating circles right now. One has me getting laid, not knowing if it was worth it. The other has me getting to know you… not knowing if it was worth it… heh. Thanks Jenn and Melissa, you gave me a topic for the week ;)

Blake’s Tail-Sighting for the week: Churchhill’s in Buckhead. That place was freaking packed as of Jan 5 with wall to wall girl-tail and guy-tail. Hit it before the universities and NYE resolutions kick into high gear.

Good-looking Options: A reason to say "Who cares!"

My girl on the back-burner, burned. Left her back there too long and she scorched. It's happened before, but it was usually with women I wasn't really interested in - in the first place. Some friend of a friend that thought I was cute, or a little sister of a girl I thought was cute... or yeah... "just some girl." When that was the case I had no problem stringing them out and then shrugging when they got tired of it. This time I left a good one on the hook a little too long. Too-tall Tami's number is officially retired, and I left her dead like Disco. Not Elvis dead, where you think you see him down the aisle at Kroger at 3 AM. "Is that Elvis checking out a can of corn?" "Maybe that's me and Too-tall back together again in a few weeks?" Nope. I made sure this one was dead like Disco Duck.

Now how did this happen? Well I'm sad to say I basically got tired of feeling guilty. I have my brother trying to set me up with this fine looking friend of his wife's, and I got this girl I met a while back at Compound calling me out of the blue for... yeah. This has been a really good set of weeks for your humble narrator. Not my usual brand of fortune at all (which isn't shabby at that). But this run has been a good one. So I was going to take advantage of this and I thought Tami was telling the truth when she said she was cool with the "arrangement." Heh... Jackass. So after increasingly more frequent arguments in which I later hung up the phone knowing I was to blame, I called it off. Tired of feeling guilty. We had sparks, but nothing so bright I didn't see the other stars out there. And oh boy did I end it. Not by admitting I was wrong, ohh no friends. Ladies and gentlemen I give you the softer side of Blake, and the straw that broke the Back-burner's back... AHEM...

"If you hadn't pressured me into that bullshit family lunch or brunch or whatever the hell it was, we wouldn't be here right now."

Thank you.

Where did that come from? That wasn't even a sound and justified "flip" of the argument. That was just... freaking... mean. Phone arguments are the worse. Someone is going to hangup and then not call back. Or if they call back, someone isn't going to answer. And even if they call back to apologize for hanging up, the other person is going to be so pissed that they got hung up on, that they don't want to hear it. So then we gotta throw something back that is equally as insulting as the hang-up and thus the cycle continues until you get really great make-up sex, or call it quits... Yeah, I'll take my chances this time.

So I only have one regret and that's that I was such a prick. That, and I'm sure it'll be a few spins at the wheel until I find another good girl that will put up with me. Now...

Can I tell you about this fine looking girl my sister-in-law hooked me up with! I'm telling you, having a married younger brother is a sweet deal. Even in the occasional doldrums of dating, you always have that sister-in-law wanting to set you up. She doesn't even like me, but if I'm going to be at her house anyway, she might as well make some introductions so that I'm there with someone she DOES like.

So, Diana is sort of a girly-girl and I can work with that, but I gotta get a feel for what that means in her case. Lots of girly-girls out there, some pounding bibles and some pounding shots... we can't assume anything yet. So two Friday's back we hit Dad's Garage for improv. Now, I think improv is kinda campy, but they're good there and it's a way I can see if I'm dealing with a depression session or someone who enjoys laughing. Good first date litmus. They are doing this "Ask Dr. Frapple," thing right now where you shout out "personal problems" and the group diagnoses you and so on. This gives me a chance to be the "good" sort of "idiot" and have some fun at my own expense without being held responsible if she doesn't respond well. I like walking that line with women. I know so many guys that just think "acting like a bad ass" is going to get them somewhere. And on the other end you have the dudes that go so far out there it's just painful to watch. I'll get a little ridiculous and then bring it back. That kinda "keep you laughing, keep you turned on" game is fun for me. Great sex never came after "you're hilarious, you remind me of my brother." Diana passed the litmus. Game on.

The show is a pretty late one, so we got out closer to Midnight than not. Another good thing about Dad's for first-second dates is that you get out late but you're kinda wired, so no heading home yet. Since Atlanta formally closed Buckhead (after I freaking moved there... what's that all about?) I've been experimenting around the city (Remind me to give my recommendations sometime.) Right now I'm liking Midtown. Loca Luna has a great Brazilian band that plays late on Fridays and the mood is good for when you're arriving with the same person you hope to be leaving with. (Side note, I just discovered this place... and I'm the one supposed to be giving advice here...) It's got the loud areas and the quiet areas. I hate yelling in bars... I freaking hate it. You sound like a jackass, and you can hardly be subtle. So anyplace that offers a patio, or a corner, or something secluded, while not drifting into "corny romantic" is a good thing.
At Loca Luna I learned that Diana wants to go back to school and become a teacher - Noble. Reads a lot - Smart. Likes dogs - Kind Hearted. And Hates cats - Perfect. We talked a lot about my brother's marriage through our respective lenses and I made sure to listen and take mental notes for future dates to come. See... I exploit the fact that you think we don't remember stuff. We can forget 13 "important things" (Where you went to school, your birthday... your last name...) if we remember one stupid "little thing" about you ("You wore that necklace the second time we ever went out."). Devious-ness. I'll collect them like baseball cards.

Bottom line, I like her. We've been out two more times since, and it's hardly dull yet. We'll see what happens.

Let us know you're into us, we don't like the whole "tease thing." But don't start chasing. Walk that line carefully, but walk it. Don't move too far one way or another in the opening months, because we'll either prematurely decide it isn't worth it, or leap into something we'll regret not having thought out later down the line. I had convinced myself I was going to slow down and try to work something out with Tami "The-Girl-that-Wanted-More." I don't think I wanted that at all, and I wrote a whole article on it. Even though she didn't really "pressure" me into anything, I had to make a choice. Whether it was right or wrong? Well I know what the mass majority will say... But with good-looking options... I can worry about that later.

Blake would like to remind you that he has been rather thoughtful and sensitive in past articles. He would ask that you forgive him his temporary bout of cockiness arguing, "Hey, it was due... I have a penis don't I?" He would also like to apologize for having just used his penis as an excuse for acting like a prick... um... The point being, he realizes that he will most likely be "kicking his own ass" sooner rather than later.

Thanksgiving Day Guilt: The Trouble with Good Girls

Maybe I'm a hypocrite, but I want a do-over!

A few weeks back I was so proud of myself. Oh boy, was I gleaming! I had decided to single out the “good girls.” The ones with “values.” The girls who “got it.” Well now I’m not getting it and I got nothing but my own preening to blame. I’ve lived a pretty fun life up until now, but I can honestly say that Thanksgiving 2007 will tend to stick out like something Fido left in the snow.

I had decided that I would stop disappointing this girl Tami. (Yeah she has been a steady and respectable back burner since we began this romp a few months back.) She has steadfastly chased me and I have continuously reminded her that I wasn’t looking for anything serious. She always answers “Oh God, I know. Me neither!” I believed her. Idiot.

She knew I was going out, seeing other women, and she tended to be fine with that. I assumed she was doing the same. Idiot. She didn’t live in the city yet, and we only saw each other every few weeks. But somehow along the way, her move to Atlanta was involving me a lot more that I figured it would. Don’t get me wrong. She was going to move here regardless. But I heard a lot more of, “Well I can’t wait until I get down there so we can (insert couple-like action).” Hmm… I’m not thinking about “us” this often. There isn’t really an “us” to think about.

How can I derail this thought process? Well, she’s finishing up grad school and there’s going to be a lot on her plate, so I tried deflective comments like “Well you’ll probably want to focus on looking for a job/apartment/life. January could be kinda hard for um… yeah… all that stuff.” (I’m not even sure what the hell that means. I’m just trying to intercept some dangerous conversation paths here.) Her answer is painfully simple. “Family.” She’ll be working for her family, staying with her family, and focused on helping her family’s business. Wow. That is really… family orientated of her. A “good girl,” a girl with “values,” and a girl who “gets it.” Is this an Asian thing? Because it’s definitely a scary thing.

And then she makes the move (figuratively and literally), and the whole “values” thing I was harping on the week before, firmly harpoons me in the ass. “Let’s have Thanksgiving Brunch with my folks.”

“Um… huh?”

“Nothing serious, not like dinner or anything. They just want to meet you. In and out, like an hour. It’s a Japanese thing.” (I’m getting flashes of like, Papa-san ninja-ing me in half for having “tainted his daughter.”) This is an impossible situation. And yeah, I’m screwed.

My Options as they came to me that faithful evening:
Response 1: “Um… that’s a little much isn’t it?”
Outcome 1: “Why do you always think this is more than what it is!? I understand the whole ‘not serious’ thing. I’m tired of hearing it.” And…. fight.

Response 2: “Um… I can’t, I’m with family that morning.”
Outcome 2: “But you hate your family.” And I’m lying… and she knows it…. and… guilt.

Response 3: “Um… That kind of family introduction thing isn’t something I really do.”
Outcome 3: “It’s something I have to do. They are already asking about this guy I’m spending time with when I’m in town. It’s important to me. Why can’t you just give them like an hour?” And…. I’m stuck.

So I’m having Thanksgiving Brunch with Tami’s family. Yeah, bombard me with the “shouldas” and the “couldas” now. Mom’s smiling a lot, but not saying much. The two sisters, both married with children, are going nonstop and asking me all kind of pointed questions, they don’t really like me. Dad’s just as uncomfortable as I am. I’m struggling to find small talk and failing miserably. And for the first time in my life I wish I was with my family… and I hate my family.

This sucks. I’m only dating women who hate their families from now on.

I can’t be here, we aren’t to this level yet. I really could care less what her family thinks of me at this point. Can we just get back to the fun stuff? You were already winning out because of the “good girl” points, you were moving down to the city, and the sex was becoming increasingly better.

It’s not her fault, I know that. I’m not so clueless that I didn’t see her chasing. (I’m honestly not even worth a brisk jog.) But what I was looking for and what she was telling me was no where near what she was really thinking.

The awkwardness of that morning led to a fight the next day. My vacation weekend was spotted with calls or text messages accusing me of “not knowing what I want.” “I don’t get you.” “Why can’t you just let things happen?” I thought I was! That was my game plan for a while. Total disclosure. No leading-on. Nothing serious from day one… when I um… yeah… slept with another girl the night after. Damn. Well, ask a guy to be honest right?

So here I am. I went out this past weekend with this girl my sister-in-law set me up with and I got a message on my phone from Tami. The first in a week. “I’m sorry. What are you doing?” Guilt. I’m doing guilt now thank you very much. I was hoping to be doing something else in the next few hours but now I’m back to guilt.

Pretty weird huh? Before Thanksgiving 2007 I wasn’t guilty when I was out with someone else. I wasn’t lying to her. I was honest and up front about it. Now I kinda want to lie. I’m not going to; I can’t really do that sort of thing to women anymore. But see what the “good girls” are capable of? Freaking hypocrite.

What I Want Ain't What I Need.

So I’ve been reassessing what I’m looking for in a woman yet again. It’s definitely been an evolution over time here. I tend to do this every few years. Kinda like Spring Cleaning. Something happens where we look around at the women we are dating or chasing or have recently gotten rid of and that little cartoon light bulb goes off. ::bing:: The women I wanted at 20 are far from the women I wanted at 24 which are far from the women I want today. The most recent fine-tuning began last April when my younger brother got married and it’s only now coming to its final (and hopefully stable) result. Took a while huh?

I’ve already mentioned how many of my friends are either married already or in the process of joining the ranks. Well having your little bro get all serious and married-like was enough to phase this guy for a few weeks. That little punk forced all eyes on me and got the ball rolling in a dangerous direction that found me looking at women and asking “is this girl someone I would want to commit to or be married to?” That’s no good for any guy to be thinking. Ladies don’t want that nonsense coming from their “Jeremiah Johnson.” And thank god that role’s already spoken for and you’re good at it girls. Plus, we don’t want to have thoughts like that pop into our heads and tear at our Mega-chismo. So we’re all in agreement.

The second stage saw legs and lungs develop for my little evolving thought process, when about a month or two back I spent an evening outside the parameter with the Suburban League of lame couples. That little episode had me scared straight or scared stupid, I’m still not sure which, but it made me realize that a serious relationship doesn’t need to be my goal right now. It can come when it’s right or it can just not come.

Now, thankfully, this latest plot twist on “What I’m Looking For” has shifted to something I can stick with. Something that makes sense for both my age and my attitude. Values have stepped in and taken a seat next to looks and outlooks. Now I left behind that whole “you must have breasts ‘this’ large to ride” thing a long time ago. But let’s face it, you have to be attracted to someone, even a little bit, before you can ever learn who they are in the first place. And when it comes to a woman’s outlook, I just can’t run with the whole serious ultra-professional. If she isn’t laughing (with me or at me) I’m not interested. So I’ll promise to think about whether you’d call what I’m wearing “sneakers” or “shoes” and you promise to smile at least three times a day. Ok? Deal.

Now my hope is that “values” will complete this ten year evolution and force the door wide open as to prospects. (My door wasn’t exactly covered in locks and deadbolts before) When you boil it all down, if you agree with how someone thinks in many or most areas, you’ve got yourself a good friend and partner in crime. But what a guy thinks of as important, and what a girl values are two different things. When it comes to my sister-in-law the only values that matter have something to do with “To House-Wife or not to House-Wife.” Another girl I dated went through a phase where you had to be Jewish, or convert to Judaism to have a shot. I know a girl who’s a little crazy who wanted nothing to do with a guy that wasn’t Asian. I overheard a bartender tell a patron “All I want is a guy that will let ME watch the Patriots instead of keeping him happy while HE watches the Patriots.” But I know it’s all kinds of stuff for us. If he’s a carnivore it might mean no vegans. For a politico it could mean voting the right colored state every election. It might come down to one bank account or two (a favorite of my brother’s). Or maybe dog vs. cat. Some people find smoking evil while others don’t see what all the bitching is about. If he’s a zealot it might mean helping him strap on the dynamite. We all got values.

So I’ve gotten to the point where I’m starting to care about mine. I’ve been seeing a girl the last few months that seems to agree with many of them. The problem is we don’t have a healthy sexual relationship and that has me going other places. She’s a beautiful girl but it just seems to end badly every time. It’s a curse or something. No matter how much weight we put on outlook and values a guy is always going to need that third quality. I imagine in a few years that’ll be the “true” final step in the evolutionary process. But Christ, I’m not looking forward to that one! Hopefully I won’t start thinking like that one until I’m married, old, and Viagra-less.

The Ex-Factor

Well it’s been a while, and a lot has been going on. Halloween has been giving Atlanta tons of opportunities to get out and find new friends for the cell phone. This is my favorite time of year for a million reasons, one of which is the “Mardi Gras-like” atmosphere this city seems to have for Halloween. And I have to say that the season was going along pretty strong, until about a week and a half ago when I got utterly derailed.

So there’s a certain dream we all have at some point in life. It’s been made fun of in almost every sit-com I can think of. (Clean thoughts people) I am talking about the “naked-in-high school dream,” or maybe the “haven’t-studied-for-the-test dream,” or maybe both at the same time, which is the worst version yet! You can be 16 years old, 45, or even 85 in a rocking chair and you’ll still bolt straight up in a cold sweat to this ever-ticking time bomb. That time of his life was a long ago for grandpa, but he’ll still give a shiver from out of his nap and tell you “there must be a draft in here.” No it was the dream. He totally just had it. Well there’s another event I can think of that can elicit this same sort of muscle seizing cold sweat reaction across the board, and it happened to me the other weekend and I’m still reeling from it. I ran into one of the ex-girlfriends. ::Bump Bump Baaaaaahhh…::

Now sometimes the Ex-Factor can be a nothing issue. It all depends on the how you ran into them. Like if you’re with someone way more attractive than the Ex. Or maybe they are with someone way uglier than you. Maybe you both run into each other by yourselves and just don’t feel anything. Who knows? Regardless, even if it’s not life changing, it’s a little shock to your Saturday. One of those, “I can’t believe that just happened,” moments. So I was at a Halloween festival a few weekends ago with a friend of mine. I’m a little groggy from the night before, but in a pretty good mood. Kids are running around, people are laughing, it’s a fun Saturday. Then I see her and who she’s with and I’m forced to make that split-second decision. Do I say “hey?” Do I let her walk by? Or do I make like Oscar and hide in that trash can until the storm passes. Well I’m no Muppet. I said hello.

Ships didn’t pass in the night, these were like jet skis, it was like “Hey, wow, what are you doing here, I’m here with my co-worker, have a great day, bye.” I didn’t know I could cram such lame small talk into a single sentence. She had been with her new boyfriend and obviously felt as awkward as I did. I turned around to my friend and she just shook her head. “What the hell was that,” she says to me. “What was what,” I say, still recovering from the exchange. “Co-worker? You lame ass,” she says. “You’re married,” I say! “Oh Jesus! I just meant you sounded like an idiot.” Damn… she’s right. I did sound like an idiot. I think I’m sounding like one right now.

And so I did exactly what the Book of Man forbids. I started thinking about calling the Ex. The worst Ex you can run into is the one where it didn’t end badly. This was one of those breakups where harsh words were never exchanged. It was a “bad timing” kind of thing. Those are mentally exhausting when you run into them later down the road. I think a lot of times a guy will be a severe ass leading up to the end just to help the break have some finality. If we make it more of a spiral fracture than a clean break, maybe we’ll never have second thoughts. That’s usually when we’ve decided it’s over long before you have. We’ll do that or just stop answering the phone. That’s another easy way out we’ll work. And this isn’t only a “young mans” disease. I heard about this happening to a couple in their late 30s – early 40s at my office. Immaturity can come at any age, and sometimes we’ll just spontaneously derail onto that track.

This relationship didn’t end like any of those nastier ones. I stung her once, she stung me once, and then we tried to remain friends. Yeah that failed. But I had actually stayed in a good position with this one. I had tried to make it work on the friend-level, I just couldn’t really keep it up. There is one key aspect of the “guy/girl friendship” that’s missing. Sometimes not having that aspect continue is alright, most of the time with me it isn’t.

So now it’s six months later and it’s all rushing back. Let me explain my current situation, because up until that Saturday I was feeling pretty good. I am still seeing this girl we call Tami who lives outside Atlanta. It’s going well and we’re having fun, nothing serious yet. I’m in a great mood because it’s October and every weekend is packed with opportunity. Even the night before the Ex-Factor occurred, I had got a date out of a girl I met at Compound. Which I might add, I have never done before. The clientele there can be a little tricky to work. Definitely a place you can’t show up to alone and you better pack some luck for the trip. So high spirits all around. Why was this affecting me. Jet skis remember? Quick and painless right? No.

And did I call her? Yes. We talked for a little while and it was cool, I mentioned I had been doing some traveling for work. She mentioned she was going to the same place I had just been visiting for a Christmas vacation type thing. With family? Nope. With the new boyfriend. Fantastic. Now I’m jealous over a girl I haven’t thought about in months going somewhere with I guy I could care less about. How does this stuff happen? It’s out of our control. An Ex can ruin your day or even your week.

We want to get jealous sometimes. Maybe we just want to get angry. It comes from the ego burn we take at seeing you happy (or at least we imagine happy) with some guy that isn’t us. That should affect my day in absolutely no way whatsoever, but instead it has me shaking my head all week. I may not understand be able to get why that happens, but I do know I’ll try to go easy on any girl I’m seeing when she runs into her own Ex-Factor. Because that little shock can affect us across the board. The natural response is that unfounded jealousy that will ruin your day, or at least your evening with whoever you’re with. I lucked out this time and was with a friend of mine. What would have happened if I had this blindside me while out with Tami? Or the Compound girl? It could’ve been bad folks.

Cute story. My grandfather recently went to his 50-something high school reunion. Now back in the day, he was apparently known to “cut-a-little-rug.” The dance was “The Shag” and it was apparently how he rolled. Now he was so good in his day that he was in dance competitions with this girl he had a huge crush on and dated for a while. They won these things with their seductive and risqué moves courtesy of “The Shag.” (This was before the Swinging Sixties and Austin Powers gave it that other meaning.) Now all these years later he is happily married to my grandmother (not Mrs. Shag-tastic). They’re at this reunion and he sees Mrs. Shag-tastic for the first time in a long time. He asks her to dance. (Scandalous trouble brewing right?) My grandmother is pretty cool about that kind of thing and lets him have his dance. She knows who he’s going home with tonight haha.

As he’s telling me this story he gets a grin on his own face. “You know, that girl had me wrapped up on her for years and years. And while I was dancing with her all I could think about was how much I wanted the song to end so I could dance with your grandmother.” It only took half a century, three kids, and a happy healthy retirement for him to lose that Ex-Factor reaction. Maybe I’ll go easier on mine.

Just Listen...

Please excuse the following article if it feels a bit rushed. I've been on vacation the last week and change in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Man it's great saying that. "I've been on vacation in Santa Fe, New Mexico." Haha... Ahem! Composure...

I recently got a call from a girl that had gotten the "no dice" in my book. I didn't hang up... She got me thinking... There are certain "situations" that I try to stay away from... typically it's prudes, serious folks, or women on a mission for commitment, but let's add to that, Chili's waitresses. Not because I know something you don't... just because I like blanket decrees, and this girl had me blankify the group. (Well... until another really really hot one comes along.)

When I was younger I was given the advice of "never run your mouth for the sake of talking." My uncle told me, if you have to say something, make it worthwhile. Well I run my mouth all the time. It's my thing. So I'm already screwed. Fine words spoken on unfocused ears. But I got the drift. Get an idea of what your saying and who you're saying it to, before you run your mouth. "Check." When it comes to the first date with the Chili's girl, well... I don't want to say conversation was like pulling teeth... but yeah... let's use that "old timer" analogy.

This was a girl that was dedicated to Chili's. If there is a middle management recruiter for that organization they need to focus on lower Forsyth County. Something in the water there is growing dedication. Take advantage. I met her at... ahem... Chili's and struck up a conversation at the bar (not the table) where my friend and ego couldn't find me if I failed. Waitresses are tricky business no matter where you're at. They're used to getting hit on as a playful thing so you never know if they "get" what you're shooting for. Plus they've heard it all before. So yeah, it's hard for us. At the restaurant they're there to make some cash, and if you can provide it you're on top of the "flirt pile" for the night. It's hard to learn if a waitress is into you or just "working." I got lucky. "Chili's" told the guy I was with, "tell your friend to stop checking me out" in a playful way. (My eyes do roam.) I got a little red and fessed up to being the "bad guy." It's funny how that works. It's creepy unless you like us right? Then it's kinda hot? I don't get that. I'll just keep doing whatever works I guess. Anyway...

"Chili's" was interesting. After speaking to her on the phone I learned she had a "game face" at work and a true side off clock. At work she had been flirty, witty, and kinda sexy. On the phone I was drifting off. This is saying something. I only do well in general because I have fun with people. I can make any situation endurable by acting like a fool or grinning, or making light of the everyday. That's my "in." So I'm pretty good at pulling us out of a dive when needed. I couldn't raise this girl. We kept talking about Chili's. The bartender, the waitresses, the customers. I figured it was nervousness but no... this girl loved some Chili's. This was boring to me, but she loved it. I was just trying to have a good time... and uh... get a "shot" so... "endurance."

When I asked her where she was having me take her for dinner, I expected her to list some joint she had never been right? Usually people in the restaurant business know what's hot at the moment and have the inside scoop on the best/new places in the area. TGI Friday's people. I can't make this up. She told me she really wanted to go to TGI Friday's. This was the coveted restaurant she wanted me to take her to. I nodded to myself and suggested a few Atlanta places on the radar (names withheld until I get financial compensation). But this girl really wanted TGI Friday's. They had a new menu and she really wanted to try it. (Like I said, I can't make this up.)

So we went to the joint. I had tried to shift her opinion and failed, so I gave in. She dressed like it was a date, but it just felt wrong. This joint had kids running around all over the place and was famous for the "Jack Daniels" steak. I don't get it. Now I'm sure for a few people TGIF is a great time. I mean, the Jack Daniels steak is probably delicious (do they still have that?). But I was out of my element... usually you people (women) say "where ever is ok," because you genuinely don't care. You just want to have a nice dinner, get a chance to ask us a few questions, and look at us long enough to decide whether we are worth a damn. (I would fail that test by the way) But this girl was so "matter of factly" pro-TGIF I had no recourse... I was being used to get an inside scoop on the competition! This is a first date people.

So here I am looking over a fajita/chicken fingers menu and I feel like I'm not doing it justice. She is reading the hell out of this sucker! I have never seen a woman look more intently at a menu. Ever. She is treating it like an Ayn Rand novel and there's a test Thursday for this girl. I can' believe it. She's "mad-dogging" the waiter for Christ's sake! She's taking on that tone with him where you think he's lying to you. "So exactly which medley of vegetables does it come with?" "So if it doesn't have that, it really isn't a Caesar salad then is it?" "Wow, I've never had a hamburger that didn't come with pickles." It could be "When Harry Met Sally" cute if it wasn't happening to me... Not cute folks.

I am half way through an attempt at conversation when the food arrives. "They don't even give you a salad fork." Does Chili's??? I don't know! I've been used people. I have been taken advantage of and used like some cheap... "simply heavenly" chocolate item. I was being used for "covert ops" over "the enemy." This was war and she was practically encrypting the menu in code for the Chili's HQ. I hadn't even been given the "Rosetta"... The rest of the evening wasn't a turn on. I learned a little about her, but mostly realized how into her job at Chili's she was. Her family was the staff, her "moments" were the times held in-between customers. She was happy. She had tried a regular 9-5 at a bank and it hadn't been the same. And as I listened to her, completely bored out of my mind, I realized that there wasn't anything wrong with that. It wasn't right for me, but who cares. I followed my uncle's advise. I didn't say anything. She wasn't "running her mouth for the sake of talking." She was talking about what she cared about. If it wasn't something I cared about... well... that's on me.

As you can imagine, it didn't go anywhere. But I did learn why the seats and walls are so ridiculously colored and decorated at Chili's. It's supposed to make you uneasy and lead you to the door. I also learned that they make there money from drinks and dessert, not the entree (higher margin of profit). I sat, surrounded by "See the California Redwood Forest" signs and Chile pepper decor and was bored out of my mind. But I started listening. Not to what she was saying, but how she was saying it. I could write an article about how it was "the worst date I have ever been on," and honestly, I even started out that way. But I think it showed me something else. She was comfortable being herself to a guy she had just met. That is awesome. More people should get that. It didn't work out but who cares... I am hardly a prize people.

She'll find her perfect guy around the bend. And he'll find her quirky nature endearing and "When Harry Met Sally" cute. That's awesome too. You just learn to listen... and that's important. If the guy is rolling his eyes then screw him. Look for the guy that'll listen. He'll probably groan and moan and honestly be bored out of his mind, but in the end, he at least listened to what you gave a crap about in the first place. Hell, I'll probably still be contemplating whether to go chicken or steak on the fajita. I'll think on it... I tend to go "combo."