Spread 'em

After naively believing we would just go as friends, with separate rooms - a co-worker (not online date despite this blog's title) and I took off for a weekend somewhere north of Santa Barbara. We left Friday night from work and all was well. Somewhere near Oxnard, it was revealed to me that in fact we would be sharing a room - but that he would take the sofa (damn skippy you will). My stomach sank as I now realized I had not truly thought this whole thing through. We arrived in Santa Barbara for dinner (fabulous Cajun place) around 8:00. I watched in horror as this man downed drink after drink. I foolishly allowed him to drive because despite his alcoholic gluttony, he didn't appear to be drunk.

Alas, Santa Barbara has many one-way streets and naturally, we got pulled over for taking the wrong turn down one of them (a mistake I would have made as well). "Monica", my date said as the red and blue lights danced across his face, "I'm going to be arrested". I laughed. "For driving down a one-way street?!?". "Listen", he said "I want you to drive my car back to work. I'll get it after I'm released." Sure enough, the officer asked him to get out of the car after running his paperwork. Before I knew it, they had him spread-eagle on the trunk (as seen through the passenger side vanity mirror). What a sight. After some time, an officer came to the window and told me that my friend was being arrested and the car impounded. (Yes - I said the car was going to be impounded.) My situation had gone from bad to worse. The kind officer then thrust $200 my way saying my friend wanted me to use it for a (really long) cab ride home. Still in disbelief, I was asked to leave the vehicle. Apparently my friend had already been taken to the pokey, because he was gone. I stood with my carry-on luggage in hand, pondering the situation. The officer took pity on me. He was kind enough to drive me to hotel after full hotel to search for a room for the night. We found one, I thanked him. He laughed when I told him that I hope my friend was made someone's bitch that night.

I lay in my room, bed spinning. I had a giggling fit that lasted a good 15 minutes. Then I called my trusted friend, Joyce. She giggled for 15 minutes. After we recovered, I told her it was too much to ask for her to come and get me in the middle of the night from 2 hours away. I asked her if she would kindly get me in the morning but I felt that that too was too much of an imposition. I then remembered that the train runs right through Santa Barbara and that I could take it to L.A. from there. Then suddenly, the fog lifted and angels sang - I had an idea! I would make a weekend of it! Why not? I had $140 left - I would move to a cheaper motel the next night and have a good time hoofing it through Santa Barbara! There's a lovely mission, great shopping - not to mention fabulous beaches! Ha! Sure enough, I had a lovely time - I walked a lot - and spent exactly how much I had left (including the train ticket).
Here's the link to the lovely pictures I took that weekend: http://www.worldisround.com/articles/16958/index.html

My friend didn't have much to say to me on Monday. In fact, he wisely avoided me. Later on he lamely mentioned something about an episode at a party. Whatever.

"Butt Pic"

Howard is a 44 year old father of two originally from Kansas. We started off the "natural" Internet dating way - with a few emails. We then progressed to IM'ing, then - naturally - texting. While I was watching the Olympics, Howard called me. We spoke for 2 1/2 hours!! Not too many red flags popped up during the course of the conversation. He was a little full of himself - going on an on about what a great real estate developer he was. When he wasn't talking about that, he was yammering on about his two children and how wonderfully athletic they were. Like I said, I was watching the Olympics. We did manage a fun conversation about Kansas and about pets, etc. When I realized how late it was, I told him I had to go to sleep. Minutes later, he texted me asking if I liked him (I suppose he was looking for some kind of review?). I said "sure". He then wrote back asking if I wanted to see a "butt pic". I wrote back "What?!?" He said that it was a funny picture his buddy had taken at Lake Powell and that I should keep in mind it was hot that day. With much trepidation, I said "sure". The next morning (still butt-pic-less) he wished me a "good morning" and we exchanged a few texts. Then came the butt pic. Picture if you will, a man with only a shirt on - bending over (with his ass to the camera), legs akimbo, adjusting a TV. A lot to digest, I know. As I tried to recuperate, I shot over a text: "wow - tmi". "hahaha -that's me!" is what he wrote back. I wondered what in our previous evening's conversation would have lead him to believe that I would want or appreciate the "butt pic" now forever scorched into my memory. Nothing vulgar was said nor heard. A true puzzlement. I wrote him that, in case he wasn't em-bare-assed by sending me that impossibly vulgar picture, he should be. I also told him that the next time he offered to send the picture to someone else, he should rightly call it his "look at my dangling balls and butt hole" pic.
Enough said about that.

****6/18/10 - I was going through my phone message memory (for whatever reason?!) and came across the aforementioned "butt pic" in the trash bin! And here I thought the tale would go down into the annals of history without a visual!