Who Needs OK Cupid When You Can Go To Jiffy Mart???

OR, Meditations on Why I am Destined to be Alone FOREVER!!! 

Remember when I said I was going to try online dating?

That lasted for, like 12 seconds....mainly because I couldn't think of a screen name that accurately conveyed all of my admirable qualities, yet disclosed the fact that I am a hot mess at this point in my life..

But still.....

It WOULD be nice to have a "significant other", only so my sister's BF and my niece's fiancee could have another dude to chill with....Also, so I could stop being a fifth wheel at our numerous family get-togethers....

However.....

I am not really cut out for raising some other person's child at this point...

And, yes, that may sound cynical, but let's do some review:

1.  I was getting gas at the Safeway gas station after work a few weeks ago, and some beefcake in a muscle shirt (um, it's Vantucky, ya'll---deal!) approached me and asked for my business card....HELLO???  Did I stumble into a warp in the space-time continuum???  Is it suddenly 1996?  I felt like reaching into my purse to make sure my not-so-smart phone was not, in fact, a Zach Morris brick.....

(side note: Ladies---do you remember those random dudes at clubs that had "business cards" that had their name, their PAGER number, and "Entrepreneur"....or was that just me??)

I don't have business cards...my company is in the middle of a 'brand change' and, instead of having lovely teal (who the fuck uses teal for ANYTHING anymore??) and yellow [barf] cards, I am 'eagerly' awaiting my new black/orange/white I-work-at-a-FroYo-shop logo cards.

So I gave homeboy a number that was very close to my cell.  Did I deliberately give him the wrong number? Nope!  I LITERALLY don't know my cell #.  When I finally converted from 530 to 360, I gave TC my number....I know, I know....


As a result, I NEVER use my phone.....just in case he sends me a text, thus storing his number in my phone, thus making it easy for me to drunk text him.....Instead, my cell is ALWAYS dead, which is why I never call any of you....not personal, just self-preservation, guys.

Anyway, I digress....

2.  My boss says, "SCREW THIS, let's grab a margarita!"   Excellent....  (mind you, this was after we both started work WAY too early and finished our work day WAY too late)  Anyway, Rrrrraoul the Bartender (you gotta rrrroll that R!), makes us some rad margaritas and sends us out into the world--side note; we each asked for extra lime juice, food, and water with our cocktails, so no DUI.  I walk out to my car, and some codger with a potbelly, bald pate with a luxurious waist-length ponytail, and A GOLD FRONT TOOTH asks me if I would like to have a drink with him..........He looks about 70 (no judgement! I am 40 and look 50!), and I LOVE the elderly (but I don't LOVE them, if you get my point), but I don't think he wanted to regale me with tales of Iwo Jima and putting the flag up---more like he wanted to show me his circus tent.  I politely told him I had an 8-yr-old to get some to, and wished him happy hunting. 

His response?

"Ahhhhh, you're too old for me anyway."


Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccccckkkkk..................Really???

So, the other day, I reminded myself that I now have THREE children to raise (long story, different blog post), and have no time for a BF, FWB, SO, or any other acronym that represents a diversion of my time, money, or energy from these kids.....


3.  Tonight I run to the store.  Grab some necessities, get cash back.  Drive to Jiffy Mart and buy a pack of Marlboro Lights.....(I know, I know, I KNOW!!!  I am working on it!!!)  I walk out to my car and hear some schmuck catcalling, yowling like a cat in heat.  

Of course, I don't look over. 

Why would I?

In spite of the fact I was wearing an extremely low-cut top, thus displaying the magical twins (seriously, they are rad!), I still look like a meatball in a Carrot Top wig.  

After homeboy yelled, "Hey RED!" three times, I glanced over...


25ish stud with a groovy tribal tattoos on his fabulous biceps looks at me, winks, grabs his crotch (who DOES that??) , and smiles at me---revealing a missing front tooth---and says, "Yo, baby, I'm in love."

Not at all like this!

Mother. Fuck.  REALLY???  This is what I get??

4.  I read online about that corpulent, perverted, incestuous fuck-stick Josh Duggar being on Ashley Madison AND OKCupid, trying to find broads to hump him, even though he looks like a potato.....

................................................................................


Really??


5.  Where is Ryan Gosling when you need him?

6.  Imma be single 4EVA!!!


I'm okay with that.

 



















Totally. Not. Kidding.