EX-actly What I Don't Want

The Great Ginger Hunt of 2017 has been put on hold.

NOT because I don't want a BF, mind you, but because I am having a bit of an issue with his name.

Does that sound lame? I promise it is not an excuse, though!

I actually have a straight-up legit reason for it, though, and it involves some people I referenced in this blog here.

Basically, it is a story about The One That Got Away, and how I have made bad dating decisions ever since I sabotaged that relationship.

Once upon a time, before I was as horrifically old as I am now, I met someone at work. Up until that point, I had prided myself on not dating people that I met at work, especially since I got hit on all the time. (NOTE: That may sound conceited, but I can assure you that it had nothing to do with my face, and everything to do with the fact that I: a) was a bartender, so every dude that hit on me was impaired/drunk/a dumbass, and b) was so whorishly dressed and overly made up that my neighbors thought I was a stripper for about 3 months, until they got to know me.)

ANYway, I never gave my # out or went on dates with dudes that hit on me at work, and that was kind of a point of pride with me, as many of my coworkers over the years earned the nickname “cocktail mattress” (as opposed to cocktail waitress) for their scandalous behavior.

Anyway, this one big, oafish, dolt hit on me and I actually fell for it and got super attached to him and his....uh, fabulous......TC.

I am using initials, but I have referenced what it stands for in a previous blog.

If you are confused, I will give you a hint. Everyone at my bar used to refer to him as WP because I mentioned that his...uhhhhhh...appendage should have a cape and tights because it was so rad. Someone-- wasn't me -- nicknamed him Wonder Penis, and the name stuck around until my super fabulous Jessica Rabbit-looking Kell Belle referred to him as “That ThunderCock guy you used to date”. When I picked myself up off the floor and wiped the tears of laughter out of my eyes, the name stuck.

TC he is, and TC he has been ever since that HILARIOUS phone convo.

Back to my tale of woe.....

Had a super fun fabulous 8 months with TC and then started getting all commitment-phobic and weird about him. It didn't help that Lexi's dad seemed to have an issue with the relationship for no other reason than his usual nosy, interfering, dog-in-the-manger ways. Also, he was between ho's at that point and he seemed annoyed that I was coupled up and he wasn't.

Anyway, relationship over, heart broken, and lots of introspection followed. I decided to stay single for a while, mainly because my little girl was almost 2, and I have never been the kind of mom that wanted her daughter to have a bunch of 'Uncles' growing up.

TC and I continued to 'see' each other periodically, until he got a girlfriend.

So then I decided to get a boyfriend, which was a bad decision, as it led me to TP.

Yes, another Acronym instead of a name. The reason I called him TP was two-fold:

1. Same name as TC. Seriously. 2. On our third date, when I was showing resistance to things being more serious than very casual dating (and sex, duh!), he informed me with a completely straight face, that he was the Total Package.

He literally said to me, “I am the Total Package. Looks, athleticism, physique, intelligence, humor, charm. What woman doesn't want that? I am the Total Package.”

I tried not to laugh in his face, but was unsuccessful. 
 

He actually was pretty hot. 6'5”, totally ripped, nice face, fairly intelligent (not more so than me, of course, but most people are not!)......he was totally bald, though, which is not my favorite look. Also, he squinted his eyes shut when he laughed. Not really a deal-breaker, but it annoyed me. AND he was obsessed with MMA stuff and was always talking about his kettle bell workout and muy thai practice, and the time he met Randy Couture.

So....yeah...that didn't work. 
 

Then I met TW. And, no, I did not start that, my boss did. It was short for Teeny Wienie. Seriously. Not because he had one, but because he was only 5'7” and kind of runty compared to the last 2 guys I had dated, both of whom were over 6 feet tall. 
 

I have chronicled the disaster of that relationship elsewhere here, and wouldn't revisit it for ANYTHING, but it was such a disaster that, 4.75 years later, I still don't trust my judgment.

So here I am, old, boring, and not sure if I should continue this interesting flirtation with The Ginger Next Door, or just suck it up and start trolling Craigslist. 


 

Isn't that what you do when you are a butterface (i.e., too ugly for Tinder)?

Seriously, I think I need some guidance here.

I just realized I have totally digressed from my original point (shocking, I know!) and that is that my Ginger Fox has the same name as TC.....

That probably shouldn't be an issue after all this time, but it kind of is.

Every time I say, “Hello XXXX”, TC pops into my head for a quick sec.

And, yes, I am fully aware that I sound like a stalker.....totally can't help it, though, it just kind of is.

So, this is where I am with my dating sitch – OK Cupid is full of perverts that want to send you pics of their junk or chat about sex right off the bat.

Match.com is just lame.

I am not sure if I should continue the great Ginger Pursuit of 2017, as the fact that he has the same name as TC may create issues for me....actually, there is no 'may', it is already creating an issue, and I am not sure it is going to go away.

BARF, PEOPLE!!!

I am so annoyed.

I just realized that I have a very limited amount of time in which to trick people into thinking I am reasonably attractive (seriously, being hilarious totally does the trick!), so basically it's either get busy or give it up.

Hmmmmmm.....

farmersonly.com and datemiserablepeople.com are clearly my last bastions of hope, before I chuck it in and embrace my spinster status for real!!!  I will be signing up tonight.

Also, if any of you have any of that Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind eraser thingie, hit me up!

Stay tuned.....