So there I was at THE country bar in Vegas, my first time and by myself of course. Now.. being that I lived in Nashville and that somehow makes me a superior judge of country bars, I was somewhat confused by the line dancing to hip hop and the enormous disco ball. I mean apparently "country" is different out west! Who knew!
I felt comfortable, even without cowboy boots or cutoff jean shorts. I was doing my thing..sitting back and taking it all in (read: smirking and judging the others). I have a fairly strict policy of not making eye contact with people who freak me out. You know the type. Out of the corner of your eye you might notice a guy limping, or an undesirable moving closer to you, and usually anyone in a cowboy hat and a belt buckle, but I had to let that slide here. These are the people you DO NOT make eye contact with. It didn't matter. The 5'3 Hispanic gentleman with a ten gallon hat on and I was still taller than him tapped me on the shoulder anyway. He pointed to the dance floor. I obviously assumed he didn't speak English. BUT NO! Not only did he not speak English, he could not speak at all. Or hear. Yes- a deaf and mute Mexican wanted to spin me around the dance floor (and really..how could he do that without being able to hear the music??? riddle me that!). Boy was I flattered..or not. The actual thought that went through my head was.."you're kidding me right?" I smiled and vehmenantly shook my head no and walked away. He obviously didn't yell any obscenities at me. Although he might have flipped me off.
Although, in hindsight I'm guessing he would have been better company than the lurking Arab man. (Also under 5'5") who asked if he could buy me a drink, and when I said no thank you he continued to stand and chat me up anyway. One would imagine after my fourth time walking away from the guy he would take a hint. I should have pretended I was deaf and mute. Damn...why am I just thinking that now! Would have been brilliant!
These encounters as a single woman really get me thinking. Is it me? Am I THAT girl? I wrongly assumed that it might be that I am alone in these bars. But then that would not explain the same types of men who wink at me on what I now like to call UNmatch.com. Really, your 63 with more hair on your upper lip than on the top of your head and you felt it appropriate to wink at me, a 35 year old woman. How's that gonna work? Take me out for steak and a side of viagra? Sheesh. Now..I'm not trying to be arrogant, but I'm not ugly am I? I mean, I have good grooming habits. I don't appear to be someone who hates old people or kicks puppies, so what's up with the completely inappropriate freak parade of men interested in me? Now there have been the rare occasions, ok...reverse. Rare occasion..not plural, that a normal appearing, non-cowboy hat wearing, employed man did reciprocate interest. The downfall is the deal breakers. He had 2 children. I just can't go down that road again. Unfortunately, as my great friends Suzanne and Chris pointed out, I might have to start dating younger men as to avoid that pitfall all together. Younger men. Have you met them? My heart breaks a little bit at the thought of an XBox being a permanent fixture in my living room or discussing why I don't want to go to South Padre for Spring Break. And to be honest, as much as I would love to be referred to as a cougar, I think I'll pass.
There are plenty of men out there to give me "attention". 30 somethings that know how to have just the right amount of facial hair and just enough charm to sound sincere, but in my experience they are all Industry guys. Translation..in Las Vegas you work in the Industry if you are a bartender, waiter, in a show, cook, etc. Further translation...I would be the Sugar Mama... that's fun..for like a week.
So what's a girl to do. ...Let's get real..what's a woman, who's been divorced twice, sliding down the back side of her 30's, who might want to have children someday- do about finding Mr. Right? (Tall, dark, handsome, childless, light hearted, and as successful as I am). I thought about twirling one of those signs on the corner. A big arrow that says "no really ..I'm not desperate". I refuse to do any more online dating. Seriously..edisharmony.com hooked me up with my ex-husband last year. No thank you. Next!
So.. and I cringe a little at admitting this, but fuck it. I have enlisted the expertise of a professional Matchmaker. (yikes!!!) I know what you're thinking. OH MY GOD...those really exist?! and umm...yes. I filled out form after form of personality questionnaires, authorized a background check, and jumped head first in the idea of taking my "happily ever after" just as serious as I would purchasing a home, planning for retirement or an epic vacation. And I am telling you right now...I am freaked the fuck out. What if they are all cowboy hat wearing Arabs with snaggle teeth and a lisp? Do normal, good looking, successful men really need to use this service? I would like to think that I am a normal (shut up), fairly ok looking (with makeup and jeans that make me look skinny) and successful (regardless of what my single digit credit score says). So there has to be at least a few prospects out there?
I'm going to die old and alone with cats.
hahahaha....or not.
I'm investing in my future happiness. Time to put up or shut up folks. So.. wish me luck, and give your super cute cousin/neighbor/co-worker/brother my information so that I don't end up dating men who will be out on parole in 10 years (or 8 for good behavior). Because really..if the matchmaker is a bust..I'm going straight to the correctional systems!
Dear Heavenly Father-
My sexual promiscuity may be your reason for making all good and decent men be repelled by me. I get that. For the record I just want to say, if you didn't want us to like it, then you shouldn't have made it so much fun. Huh? See my point. So in my opinion you are partly to blame for this. Now that we have gotten that little issue straightened out I would just like to say thank you for allowing me the strength and fortitude to kiss a lot of frogs and still not give up on my Prince Charming. Your faithful servant, Brooke, Queen of the Frogs.
This down and out attitude has got to stop. What is wrong with a short deaf mute mexican that with clogs stands nose to nipple? I mean really, aren't you being a bit on the picky side. And as for twin towers with the fucked up teeth, should have given him a shot. He may have taken you to his old country and introduced you to herding sheep and the up side of being a closed in sex slave. It is all going to work out, you are smart, great looking, perverted (which is usually a plus) and in the market, you will find mister right, it usually happens when you stop looking.
ReplyDeleteWestern bar, REALLY??? Holy crap, those dumb ass dudes wear the big shinny buckles because they think they are like fishing lures. They figure if they can get you to look that far south you will notice the bump in their jeans. (probably a rolled up sock). Just saying:)