My Blind Date From Hell...but at least Hell is hot

For this blog, everything in italics is what I'm thinking...I don't have the balls to say the things you will read in italics

It is no surprise that things in the love department have been painfully slow since my move to Tucson and there are several factors that comprise this. 1) I (thankfully) work 7 days a week 2) there are 2 gay bars in a city of 1 million people so your choices are slim 3) This is the 6th most dangerous city in the country so my glitter and short shorts have been sitting in my closet safe and bullet hole free.

Now don't get me wrong...I'm a gay male in the 21st century...I have apps on my phone that can have a 6ft deep pan green eyes pair of loafers and no socks delivered to my door in 15min or less...but I'm not that kind of girl. I'm the kind of girl that likes to go out on the town and meet people, have a reason to get dressed up and enjoy good conversation as I knock back 3-4 martinis...then I'm the first type of girl. JK.

I made the HORRIBLE mistake one day of telling one of the sales people at my station that I hadn't been on a good date since I've arrived and that's when things went terribly awry. All of sudden everyone and their mother at my radio station was coming into my office with guys they wanted to set me up with. Their nephews, their friends sons (and one daughter which I still don't understand) other people at the station (made that mistake once before never again) and basically everyone they knew that could be gay/Canadian. I felt like fucking Ling-Ling the panda and if I didn't find a mate soon they gays were going be extinct.

Courtesy of the Save the Homo Foundation

So one of the sales people who is about to make me oodles of money tells me she has the "PERFECT GUY" for me. Now like I said, this is a woman who is working on making me a large sum of money so I really can't piss her off and say no so I ask if she has a picture of him...she shows a picture of him, her and their other friend all sitting down and drinking wine. Perfect, I can't possibly go on a date with someone who doesn't drink...call me old fashioned.

Saturday rolls around and I'm somewhat excited to get out on the town. I do my normal wax, bleach, tan, bronze, glitter, spackle and spritz routine just to make sure I'm showroom ready and I hear a knock at the door. I look through the keyhole and don't see anything so I walk away. Another knock. Hmmmm...I open the door. There is sales woman's friend...ALL 4'10 of him. Now, I have nothing against short people since I'm no NBA player myself. Plus I think they are naturally hilarious so I'll forgive him for leaning against my door like he is a suave James Bond. For the time being we are going to call him Tim, Tiny Tim. He offers to drive me to dinner so we head out to his car. As we are walking to his car I look down...not just down onto the top of his head but to his feet. Are those...are those spurs??

Me:
Are you wearing spurs?

TT:
Easy cowboy we'll get there. They're really expensive boots but I know someone at the BOOT BARN

Me:

Fuck my life. I'm on a date with the eighth dwarf Horny.

No surprise here...Tim drives the BIGGEST TRUCK I HAVE EVER SEEN.



All Aboard the Overcompensation Express

I'm interested to see what kind of Cirque de Sole shit he's going to pull to get into the car and wondered if I should offer to ally oop him but he manages and away we go.

The ride to dinner was AWFUL to say the least. When he wasn't talking about how much money his family has he was talking about how popular he was at the clubs (remember, there are only 2) and how busy he was working for his family's company. I'd be busy too since we're only 6 weeks away from Christmas...better get crackin on them toy trucks. He tells me that his family has a home in Tucson but their winter home is a ranch in Nogales Mexico. BOSTON PEOPLE TAKE NOTE: That is the equivalent of saying "I might be from Lynn but I have a summer home in Worcester"...I'm not impressed. 

We arrive at dinner and he insists he order for me since this is "his spot" and "everyone knows him here" I'm kind of doubting that a restaurant where every waitress has the same Lupe name tag on is really your Cheers Norm but I allow him anyways. YAY! DRINKS!!

TT:
Shouldn't we toast?

Me:
Um sure, to what?

TT:
My birthday

Me:
Oh, whens your birthday?

TT:
Today

Me:
So it's your birthday and you're spending it on a blind date with me?
Shit, do I have to pay now?

TT:
Oh yea it's today and looks like I got exactly what I wanted. Feliz Cumpleanos to me eh?

Me:
I'm going to vomit

Lupe #12 comes by and asks us what we want for dinner and Tim over here says the following:
La esposa y yo tenemos dos tacos de carne con salsa de cara cerebro

Now, I'm not Rosetta Stone here but I quickly look at the menu...oh, he just ordered us FACE MEAT TACOS WITH BRAIN SAUCE...ooooh HELL NO.  

TT:
You're going to love them, some say they are an aphrodisiac

Me:
Some say coffee stunts your growth, guess you didn't listen to them either
Oh, no thanks...I actually don't eat red meat. I'll just have the chicken

TT:
That's cool...you'll need to save room for dessert anyways ::wink::

Me:
Did you bring some cookies from your tree?

My food was fine, his looked like some wayward Hispanic animal got caught in tractor and landed in a pile of rice and beans.

TT:
Are you ready for my cake...I might need some help blowing out the candles

Me:
I'm about to turn on the ceiling fan and blow you right out of this fucking restaurant
I don't think they have dessert here, it's not on the menu.

TT:
Oh no, I called a head they're doing something special for me. A special treat with a special boy

Me:
You'll be on a special edition of 20/20: Murders In Tucson if you don't STFU
Great.

And then, Lupes from across the restaurant gathered and presented this delicious masterpiece to my micro date

It's a Little Debbie for my Little Douche Bag!

I sing Happy Birthday to him as he keeps constant eye contact with me the whole time. He didn't even blink so I had to hold back my laughter. As he blows out the candle and caught his breath he asked me if I wanted some.

TT:

Are you sure? They say good things come in small packages

Me:

They lied

No thank you

TT:

It's odd, you look like the kind of guy that likes to eat

Me:

You look like the kind of guy that should be next to Dr. Evil

What does that mean?

TT:

Oh, I'm not trying to offend you...I like guys with a little meat of their bones

Me:

Me too, their knee bones

I get it from my mama. (The waitress had taken my silverware or else I would have slit his throat)

We start home. THANK GOD IT'S ALMOST OVER!! Wait, where are you going? My house is left...why are you going right? Thank god I had mase in my purse.

TT:

I just want to go look at the stars for a little bit. The sky seems so big doesn't it.

Me:

6 year olds seem to big to you

I guess.

TT:

So you're a DJ huh? 

Me:

Yup

TT:

Will you play my favorite song?

Me:

Sure, what is it?

Small Town Girl? All the small things? The theme to it's a small world?

TT:

Save a horse ride a cowboy.

Me:

I.WANT.TO.DIE.

I don't play country music sorry.

Apparently Tim heard that as "That turns me on, come kiss me" because he actually leaned to kiss me. Not wanting be rude and turn away an advance I do the polite thing and start coughing violently to the point of dry heaving.

Me:

Oh I'm really sorry, that food must have disagreed with me...I think I'm going to be sick.

TT:

Awww I'm sorry baby (did I mention he called me baby all night? Luckily he thought Muppet was my cute pet name for him too) should I take you home?

Me:

At this point I'll run

I think that'd be best

So he drives me home, the whole time I am pretending I might vomit on his custom leather seats with HIS NAME stitched in them and he walks me to my door.

TT:

Are you sure you dont want me to come in and take care of you?

Me:

I have a nightstand thanks.

No, but appreciate it.

TT:

When can we do this again?

Me:

How about the 32nd of Jolember you freak

Oooo I don't know...I'm really busy. I'll call you

TT:

Don't wait too long baby. I'm like a shooting star...guys like me don't come along all the time

Me:

You're a dwarf star

TT:

What?

Me:

Goodnight!!

Needless to say I did not call him nor have I returned any of his sext messages.  I wasn't sure if it was his pinky or his penis he was texting me but I feel like I made the right move there.

I'm sure he's fine and is on some one's shelf posing on top of a trophy at this very moment and me....I'd rather be single than settle.