Random Esquire

Tell me she doesn’t make your teeth ache.

1. I forgot I had a steak in the refrigerator. I wasted a perfectly good meal on chicken.

2. My buddy and I disagree on when he should get to a bar where he will be meeting a date. He thinks he should arrive late. I’m not sure why. I think it’s a bit of a control thing. I told him to assume she’ll be 10 minutes late but get there 10 minutes early so that if she is on time, she doesn’t have to sit at the bar alone. Of course, the number one rule of dating:

Be Funny And Bring Money.

3. Why do people feel the need to tell me lawyer jokes when they find out I’m an attorney? I don’t get it. I don’t tell black jokes when I find out someone is black.

Yes, I realize my logic has holes.

4. And now I must be off to pick up my date. Neighbor and I are going to hit a nearby Irish pub to enjoy a pint and I am precisely 10 minutes late (the rule for when you pick her up at her place).

Whenever I mention that I do not like cats, someone will say, “You’d like my cat.”  No, seriously, I probably won’t.

I know that part of this is because a) I’ve never had a cat, b) I’m allergic to them, and c) I don’t know if they have a point.  If I was not allergic, it is possible that I might have learned to like them but I was pretty sure I did not like them before I ever found out I was allergic.  This happened when I went to a date’s home and she had a cat.  When I left a few hours later, I had to pull over on the side of the road to get ill.

Then I dated a woman who had two cats, both of the incredibly, wildly hairy type – what’s that called? Maine coon?  Something like that.  One was named Baby Boy and the other was Finnegan, which she called Finneh.  I saw one of them do something near indescribable to a wall in the house and that convinced me that cats are still wild animals.

Yesterday, I was on the phone with an ex (not Boss) who was trying to coax a cat out from under her car.  She said, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…” and she made kissy noises.  I said, “Does that work? Do they respond to that? Actually, do they respond to anything?”  She said, “YES.  I think people just do it all the time so they learn to respond to it.”  I said, “They learn?!”

I’m not entirely opposed to cats.  I might get a cat someday.   Yes, that’s possible.  In fact, the first time I see a cat lead a blind man down the street, I will get one.

Let’s hear from you, por faplease.

1. You’re having an intimate gathering. Invite one of each:

a) one person from your current life,

b) one (known) person who has passed away,

c) one famous person (alive or dead), and

d) one person from the internet you’ve never met.

2. What is the best meal you can make?

3. Would you rather be illiterate or blind?

Edited to Add: We’re at 7 votes illiterate and 3 votes blind. Does anyone have a really strong opinion on this?

I continue to go out on dates since Boss and I parted.  Some have been good, some have been less than so.  But I suppose it must say something that only one of my dates these past few months knows about my blog.  I think it was Ms Single Mama who said that blogs were a bit like a dating guide.  Like the books on our bookshelf, I think what a person chooses to write about is revealing.

Plush is on the road until Saturday this week for work, deliriously short on sleep.  She sent me an e-mail earlier while she browsed the airport stores and said, in part, this:

“It was here that I discovered the ultimate form of myself, what I can only aspire to and hope to one day achieve – Ultra Plush.  And entire wall of luxuriously rich products designed to remove you from your surroundings and create an alternate space of peace, calm, and absolute blissful comfort.  Thick pile socks and blankets, gel eye masks, neck pillows, anything you can imagine might make your 5 hour flight more comfortable is available in pink, tan and blue with the texture of Snuggles the Downey bear.

I want it all.  I also want to be it all.  Mostly, I just want to tear open every single package on that wall, throw every item onto the floor into a giant bed of decadence, and sleep for a week.  I’m off to find ice cream.  And coffee.  Miss you.”

Methinks Plush will need some pampering when she returns.  I think a hot bath, massage, and a good meal will be a start.  Let’s face it, at this point the airport news stand has her enchanted.  Surely I can beat that, right?

This has to be some sort of joke.

This woman sat down one day on her boyfriend’s toilet and then…didn’t get back up.  Her skin eventually grew around the toilet seat.  The boyfriend would bring her food and water and each day would ask her if she’d come out of the bathroom.  Her response?

“Maybe tomorrow.”

*blink*

Finally, he called the police and told them that something was wrong with his girlfriend.  Police found her on the toilet, sweat pants around her ankles.  She said she was fine and did not want to leave.

Let’s back up here.

1.  If a woman is in my bathroom for 20 minutes, I’d politely not notice the time.  If she was there for an hour, I’d knock and see if she was okay.  You know what I wouldn’t do?  Take in food and water so she could spare herself a trip to the kitchen.

2.  Where the hell is this woman’s family?  And did she have a job?

3.   He asked her every day to come out of the bathroom.  I won’t lie to you.  I don’t have that kind of patience.  Hey, buddy.  Red. Flag.

4.  I’m almost ashamed to say that my initial thought was of a wood-paneled bathroom in a double wide – which made me wonder if there was a second bathroom, for him.

5.   The neighbor’s response?   “It doesn’t surprise me.”

Instigator sent me an instant message at work today that said, “Are you taking me to lunch?!” I patted my pockets for money and then went to get her.

We ate in a cafe, surrounded with business people sitting down to their lunch. I watched over Instigator’s shoulder as a guy put down a tray, sandwich, salad and soda ready for consumption. He glanced around and I could tell he was looking for where to get some silverware. He got up to get some and then paused and looked back at his stuff, sitting alone at the table, clearly debating if he should walk away from it. He opted to walk away.

At that exact moment, I wanted to dash over and steal his sandwich.

I know this is wrong. I had already eaten my lunch. But it’s the kind of absurd thing that might strike me as funny – to see him come back and stare in disbelief at his plate. And I, of course, would sit at the nearby table and eat his sandwich, watching him.

I relayed this thought to Instigator. Mid-story, I watched a woman walk by, behind Instigator. Instigator looked at me, as if to say, “What?” I said, “Sorry, that woman…she walked by…her blouse was too tight and the buttons were..like stretching….”

Instigator stared at me. I could tell she was wondering why she’d mentioned lunch.

She said, “That is not attractive. You don’t think that’s attractive, do you?”

I said, “Uh…um…it’s not fashionable. I know that.”

She sighed.

I’m a sin to tolerate.

Apparently, no one bothered to contact the good people at Smucker’s and let them know that their commercial is ridiculous because I continue to see it on television. It’s the ad I posted about here, discussing my obvious disillusionment with the ad:

***

In it, two boys are walking along and the younger boy sort of laments that no one seems to want to know what he’ll do when he grows up. The other says that it’s a no-brainer because of his name. The younger boy says, “Richard?” and the older one says, “No, Smucker!” This is meant to imply that because of his name, it is obvious to everyone that his professional life has been predetermined and he will surely be involved, in one way or another, in the selling of fruit based jams or jellies.

Really?

Because I’m pretty sure the kid said his name was Dick Smucker.

And I can tell you, selling wholesome fruit spreads is not the first thing that comes to mind when I hear that name.

I’m just saying.

***

Dear Smucker’s,

You can not sell me anything edible by using a kid named Dick Smucker.

Sincerely yours,

RandomEsq.

1. I made a promise I do not want to break and I no longer wish to keep.

2. I am concerned about someone and am straddling the line between listening…and doing something.

3 . A friend told me recently that I have been distant. I believe the exact phrase was “off-standish.” I feel like I need to clear my head of a fog.

4. Little Filthy senses that things are amiss. Twice today I found him under the bed.

5.  Today, I started to feel…thin. As if I became less of who I am. This bothers me.

1. Have I mentioned that The Italian retaliated for me calling him a Mangina? I got an Instant Message in the office that said, “I had dinner tonight with a beautiful woman. While there is much to say about heated moments that make your skin go tight, there is also something to be said about holding a woman’s fingers like the stems of flowers and finding her just as beautiful.” – something I had said in this entry.  He was, quite clearly, mocking me with my own words.

He then called me and said, “Dude. You sound gay.” This from a man who sent a woman a text message that read, “I can still feel that hug you gave me.” I laughed and said, “Well, homo to homo then, I’m okay with that.”

Yeah, we really don’t give a shit about things like that.

2. I spoke with a female friend today and our conversation made me recall a conversation I once had with my previous secretary. My secretary had been telling me about a man she was dating and she had sighed and said, “I can’t decide if I’m going to let him sleep with me.”

This boggled me. I said, “Uh…why don’t you decide if you want to sleep with him?”

Is this seriously the thought process some women go through? Can someone please explain?

3. I stumbled across a blog written by a single mother – turns out there are tons of them. Blogs, I mean. And single mothers. And you know what? Dude, single mothers are hot. Who knew? And why did no one tell me?