Do You Believe In Magic?

It took me quite a while to recover from Coffee Guy. To be honest, I wasn't over him when I began talking to Magic, but I figured I could use a little Magic in my life, so I needed to stop sobbing and start throbbing, if you know what I mean.

I met Magic on Match.com because a girl can't stick to one online dating site. Broaden your horizons, make multiple online dating profiles, and assign the prospects nicknames. Most importantly, create a blog to catalog your laughable dating excursions to have them forever engraved in your memory bank.

Magic attempted to email me at least three times before I acknowledged his presence. To be hoenst, I would have never responded because he refused to upload a profile picture. Do not respond to faceless profiles. Lord knows they'll be the next Jeffrey Dommer and you'll be the dessert, literally. However, on his last email, he included his "website" and suggested I take a look to prove that he was a real person with a real face and a "real nice body." I figured, sure, what the hell?

Oh my goodness. Could it be? Could this imageless profile truly be that of a former NBA basketball player? Well, for heaven's sake, Coffee Guy who?? Yeah, I'll take an NBA player with a side of rebound please. Supersize! He was very attractive and from what it seemed, we had a lot in common. We were both into sports and looking for a relatively serious relationship. I couldn't understand what he saw in me. I wasn't a bimbo, nor the hottest girl on the website. For some reason, he had messaged me, multiple times. So what's the catch?

He invited me to Chili's for drinks after work. I proceeded to get the "stamp of approval" from my coworkers prior to meeting this still relatively anonymous mystery man. They suggested I go on the basis that he claims to be a former NBA player and that's just, well, hot. Of course they were all thinking dollar signs, but I could care less about that. I wanted love and all that good stuff. Yeah, let's get real. The man's probably loaded and I want a slice of that!

I drove to Chili's and went inside. I sat in the lobby and looked around. Did I miss him? Maybe I'm at the wrong Chili's? Well, how many damn Chili's are there in this area? Forget this, I'm leaving. Figures, he's a basketball player, they're never on time for anything. They're players and he's just gonna play me and I just got played, I don't time for games. Then it happened. I saw him. The only 6'6" black man in a thirty mile radius. Man, oh man, was he tall. I felt as though I was looking at a giant. He motioned for me to come to the table and sit with him. I must have looked silly, just sitting there and staring in awe. Please remove your chin from the floor or take a picture, I'm sure that would last longer.

I sat down and we order drinks and chips. The conversation came so easily and he smiled and joked. Could he really be interested in me? No, he just wants to fornicate, but hey, at this point, I'm down for that too. He's hot! There was a football game on in the background, but it was far away and you couldn't see the teams clearly. We made a bet to see who could determine the teams. I guessed the Cardinals and whoever the other team was. He said the Chiefs. Oh, you don't care about that? You just want to know what we bet? Well, I bet that if I won, he owed me date two. If he won, he wanted to kiss me. So I guess either way I won. I have to admit, I was shocked he didn't ask for more. Perhaps I judged the poor basketball player too quickly. Then again, he still has time to live up to his stereotype. Let's not get our hopes up.

He payed for our drinks and food and we proceeded to walk to our cars. Can you say Escalade? Um, yes, a big, black, beautiful, sparkling Escalade. Stop my beating heart. Wow. Ahem, back to reality. Boy, the things I'd like to do in that Escalade. Okay, back to our date. We stopped at the driver's side of my car and talked for a minute. He asked me if I had a good time and I said I had. He leaned in to kiss me, but apparently my kiss was too "frisky" for him as he said "Damn girl, you better watch that. Don't tempt me now."

As we stood there talking and smooching, a security guard in a stupid little go-kart proceeded to interrupt our snog session. "What are you two doing out here? It's time for you to leave." Um, excuse me? Bet you feel all high and mighty making ten dollars an hour to patrol a parking lot. Go back to college. Well, that set Magic off. He gave him a piece of his mind. The security guard started name dropping cops and saying that he would give them a call if we'd like to discuss it with them. Magic said, "That's fine. I'll call 'Officer So-and-So right now. They're all in my speed dial contacts. You have no idea who I am and I wouldn't start trouble right now. Get out of here. We're leaving." What a weird way to end a date. It certainly wasn't the first time I've been run off in the middle of a make-out session, but it was certainly the hottest. Could it be that I just made out with a former professional basketball player? I didn't think I was capable of attaining such a man, but apparently, I'm just as sexy as the next girl. Now let's see if he can squash that basketball player stereotype.

Oh, and I lost the bet. It was the Chiefs! The best bet I've ever lost.

Where For Art Thou, Coffee Guy?

After the Mr. Pickles fiasco, I came home and released my frustrations out on my babysitter and her daughter. I was still in shock that I had spent the evening, completely oblivious to the fact that I was in the presence of Mr. Pickles. Had I known such craziness, I would have never stuck around. I will never get the smell of dill pickles out of my nostrils as long as I live. From this day forward, pickles and Mr. Pickles will always go hand in hand, and not in a pleasant visual.

So, my babysitter encouraged me to reach out to coffee guy again. Her advice was to essentially yell at him for bailing on our date, but that would be mean. Who cares? I was so beyond aggravated at this point. So, I took to my cell phone and began my texting rampage, bombarding him with my "You know, if you didn't want to go to out with me, that's all you had to say (blah blah blah)" text message, not expecting any kind of response. Boy, was I wrong!

He was shocked at my reaction, though guess who responded quite promptly to my angered tone? Mmhmm, go figure. He explained that he was quite sick and had assumed I would understand he would not be able to go out because he was "under the weather." We are women. We need things written out for us in black in white. If you are so sick that you have to cancel a date, then say "I'm sorry I must bail on the insane amount of fun I know we were meant to have tonight. Would you be kind enough to let me reschedule my evening with you?" How sweet that sounds. Men wouldn't come off as such jerks if they'd use carefully phrased sentences, meant to coddle and stroke our egos.

However, if you just aren't interested, kindly proceed with a sweet, but to the point break-up line. For example, "I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to know you, but I've decided that I'm just not ready to pursue anything serious at this time. I hope we can still be friends." Then he will wink at you and hope you can read minds because when he says friends he means friends, but if he's cute enough, you'll give him the benefits. Otherwise, tell that boy to kick rocks because he's probably a tool!

I ruined everything with Coffee Guy. I let my insecurities ruin what we could have had. I wanted so desperately to be with him. We had an insane connection, one I hadn't shared with anyone in almost three years. It was a magical feeling and I had hoped it would turn into something special and long term. Instead, I found myself alone once again. He told me that my textual freak out did just that--freak him the hell out! Go figure. A girl's mind is a scary place. Proceed with caution, preferably with a shotgun and a flashlight. You never know what you will find. It's even more frightening when it has not stimulated in over three hours by a text message or phone call from the potential "love prospect." Guys should grasp the concept that depriving a girl of that contact and reassurance does nothing but drive a girl crazy! Yet, they wonder why we get all psycho and needy!

That was my problem. I had become that girl. I had become extremely emotionally attached and invested to Coffee Guy because we had connected on an emotional level so quickly. We had so much in common and could talk nonstop for hours on the phone without a dull moment. I liked him, a lot! I didn't expect it to end, but when I didn't hear from him, I became that girl--the needy girl that required the constant reassurance to know he was still interested. You see, I have do this with relationships. I allow myself to feel vulnerable and finally start to remove those bricks I've spent so many years adding to my wall of trust. As soon as I begin to feel comfortable and see a glimmer of a hope with a new guy, it comes crashing down.

Didn't Coffee Guy know that I liked him? I wanted him to see my big heart and the love and affection I wanted to share with him. Most of all, I wanted him to want me back. Sure, there are plenty of guys that wanted me, but I thought Coffee Guy was different. I thought he wanted me as a person, but it seems I ruined that, if he ever actually wanted that. I guess I'll never know. I hate not having the answers, but what fun would that be? Gosh, my blogs would be so boring if I had all the answers. All I know is what I've experienced and so far that's been forty-year-old creepers wanting to dominate me, pickle eating weirdos, zit popping prudes, and hypocritical nymphomaniacs.

Will I ever find a man that wants me for what I have to offer, emotionally and mentally? My heart yearns for a man that will love the parts of me that I have grown to love. At times, I let those character defects surface, but all I can do is try to persevere and grow with my partner. When I meet a man who is willing to look past my little, annoying quirks and see through to my soul and accept all that I am and all that I have the potential to be, that is when this blog will have a fairytale ending. My heart has been tattered and torn throughout the years. I don't know how much more of this pain it can endure. It took me months to get over Coffee Guy. I still think about him from time to time and always wonder what if? Our chemistry was so amazing, it's still hard to believe nothing ever came out of it. I'll always a small place in my heart for Coffee Guy because he taught me a lot about myself. I've learned to leave guys alone. If they are interested, they'll get a hold of you. It's a lot easier said than done, but if you don't wanna lose em, snooze em! They'll get back to you. If it's meant to be, it'll be. They won't stay gone long... if they want to be with you, that is. Guess you gotta just wait and see and that's the hardest part.

Don't worry, I didn't wait very long. Get ready to meet our newest bachelor, a man I like to call "Magic."

Coffee, Disappointment, and Pickles

I'm sure you've guessed by now, Coffee Guy was not "it." What a short blog this would be. Though, before he left, he said we would go out later that evening for dinner. I expected him to sleep most of the day, considering I had kept him up until six a.m. So I wasn't too concerned when I didn't hear from him. Biting my already chewed nails and waiting ever so patiently, the ding of my phone alerted me to his text message that had finally arrived. He said that he was feeling sick, however did not say that he was canceling our date. I figured it was safe to assume that when he manned up and stopped whining about his "hangover," he would be knocking on my door to whisk me away to our wine-and-dine session. Yeah, good luck with that one!

Hours went by and I sat anxiously, twiddling my thumbs, having heard nothing from this man. Rather than sit around and pout, I did what any normal girl would do. Make plans with someone else. I had been speaking to another man on Match.com for a day or two, and I had wallowed in my sorrows for long enough, so I decided to take him up on his "ice cream" offer. Cue Mr. Pickles.

Mr. Pickles was an interesting man and far from my type, but I thought I would give it a go. He had red hair and freckles, which is not my cup of tea, but the desperation kicked in and I was not about to sit at home alone. Didn't Coffee Guy know what fun and excitement he had abaonded by blowing me off? Well, I'd show him!

I got ready and drove to Coldstone Creamery, where I met Mr. Pickles. He was an odd man and conversation was a struggle. He had the worst table manners of anyone I had ever seen. He ordered the biggest ice cream available and downed in it less than a minute, using the back of his sleeve to wipe the dribbles of ice cream from his chin. Disgusting. I was so done with this date, but having some class, I wasn't about to be rude and bail. I started texting my babysitter, asking her to call me and tell me the kids were sick so I would have an excuse to high-tail it outta there!

As we were talking, he asked "Are you hungry?" Hungry? Do I look like a fat cow to you? I just ate an entire bowl of ice cream. How could I possibly be hungry? Well, apparently he was a fat cow trapped in an unattractive, redheaded and freckled man's body because he was hungry and decided we needed to walk across the street to the Subway, so he could torture me with more of his horrid table manners. I had to suppress my overwhelming excitement. He just continued to flash that stupid grin and off to Subway we went. Didn't the babysitter get my text?! SOS means save me! Abort, abort! Gah, get me out of here!

He ordered a footlong italian sub. Cue the italian sauce smothering his face and chin and his once clean and crisp white shirt now drenched in sauce. [insert imitation vomit sound here]. I was so disgusted I didn't know what to do with myself. That's when I realized who he was. I must have looked like a deer in headlights in that moment because the sheer horror I felt knowing that I had been sharing my personal space with this man was quite disturbing, yet hilarious at the same time. I have the most rotten luck.

A few weeks prior to this day, a man had sent me a message on the website. "Hi my name is... (you really think I remembered this fool's name? Get real!) and you are really beautiful. My hands smell like pickles because I just ate the last two pickles from the pickle jar. Hope you are having a good day! Hope to hear from you soon!"

Um, excuse me? Who says that? What a ridiculous pick-up line. I never responded, but having watched him devour the ice cream and sandwich, it dawned on me--I was in the prescence of Mr. Pickles! How could I have let this happen? Desperation at it's finest, ladies and gentlemen. Moral of the story? If one date bails, stick to Ben and Jerry's!