Bless this Mess

Bless THIS Mess :)

I stole the title of this blog post from my lovely friend Andrew (to the right). "Bless this Mess" is going to be the name of the short stories that he wants to publish about his crazy life. Although, he has been talking about this for YEARS, so we will see if it ever happens.

My best friend and college roommate, Sara, lives in Connecticut. She also works at Unilever in the same department as me. It's strange how things work out. One of the suppliers had tickets to the Knicks game and asked Sara to go. They ended up having 2 extra tickets: enter me. It actually was one of my old suppliers that I used to work with in Chicago. The supplier is a bit "weird" but it was free dinner, drinks and great seats to the Knicks. Like I would turn this down.



Our awesome seats

 Sara took the train down and we went to meet the supplier for dinner. This is where the wine consumption starting taking place. We ate some steak, drank some wine - life was good. It was me, Sara, our friend Laura from Unilever, another Unilever person, Cara from Sun Products and the supplier. We then left and went to the Knicks game. We had fancy seats, complete with cushions and a server. We were in the 5th row - not too shabby at all, as you can see from my pic. Our server came by and asked the supplier if we wanted drinks. She said "no but check back in a little bit." Clearly, she does not know us at all. Sara and I called him back over. We ordered some more wine (who doesn't drink cab at a basketball game?). He asked if I wanted a double or a single. As if that is even a question at all: double, obvi. Our drinks came out and it was like a bottle of wine with a straw. I was in wine heaven. I had 2 of these. Sara had 1 and then switched to vodka sodas. We thought we were too classy for the typically beer that one consumes at sporting events. Clearly, we were wrong.


My big gulp.


I watched maybe 2 nano seconds of the game. Sara, Laura and I chatted the whole time. It was awesome. Laura just had twins, so she was thrilled for a "free" night. After the game, we said goodbye to the supplier and us 5 girls headed to a bar. This is where things start to go bad.

I was wearing 4 inch heels. I told myself as I was getting ready - and I quote - "the Real Housewives don't wear sneakers to a game. They get all dolled up for these games, so I will too." Yes, I know I am not a Real Housewife, but one can dream :) These heels were the f-ing devil. As we were walking out of Madison Square Garden, the combo of the wine and heels proved to be too much for me to handle and I fell hard on my ass. Thankfully, I did not rip my jeans - just bruised my pride. People laughed, as they should. I got up and played it cool. We walked to the bar for more drinks, because clearly we needed more.


Phone fail.


At the bar, Sara informs me that she is going to go to Duane Reade to buy shoes...because Duane Reade is known for their great shoe collection. She was gone for what felt like an hour. We almost sent out the search party but she found her way back. She couldn't find shoes at Duane Reade (shocking, I know) but she bought a years supply of band aides. She also fell outside and broke her phone. Fail. It made texting challenging over the shards of glass, but at least it still worked! We tried to forget the falling incidents and broken phone. We starting telling some stories, so I course I tell them about the Bible Thumper. After sharing a few laughs and more wine, Sara and I decide to leave to meet up with our friend Daryl. The only problem is, my phone died and he texted me the address. Sara and I jumped in a cab and just headed north. Either Sara would get ahold of him or we would go home - which ever came first. We were about 2 blocks from my apartment an Daryl finally texted Sara the address. We turned around and headed downtown. I end up passing out in the cab, which is always a good sign. We finally made it after what felt like a really long nap. We then get into an argument with the bouncers. They ask us if we want to go upstairs or downstairs. I told him I just wanted to go inside and they raised their voice, "DOWNSTAIRS OR UPSTAIRS?" Ok, douchelord, I know you think you are all high and mighty because you stand outside a bar and check ID's, but here is a reality check: you're fat, ugly and have a meaningless job. Seriously, bouncers take their job WAY too seriously. We opted for upstairs and found our lovely friend Daryl. Things get fuzzy now: Sara and Daryl are yelling at each other. The people beside me are talking in Russian (at least that's what I had in my mind). And there sat me, sipping vodka sodas, playing solitaire. Awesome. Daryl left and Sara and I stayed for awhile. We finally decided to call it a night at 3:00am and we headed home. 

I hate bouncers.



After passing out in yet another cab, we finally made it back to my apartment. I wanted to stop at Henny's. Henny is the street meat guy in front of my apartment. I say hi to him everyday, so in my drunk mind, I think I get special privileges and I can cut the line. There were about 6 people in line, but that didn't phase me. I went straight to the front and said hello to Henny. I told him I wanted a gyro. He said ok, but continued to make the food order for the other people, as he should. I said, "HENNY....IT'S ME! GYRO PLEASE." He laughs and what felt like forever later, I get my gryo. It was heaven in my mouth. Sara ordered the flaffle, which took another year. We walked up the stairs to my apartment. Sara drops her food outside my door. I walk in, slam the door in her face. She scraps up her food, walks in and slams the door. We are eating and talking. I think I am being quiet as a mouse, not to wake the roommates, but as I found out in the morning, I was wrong. We passed out and woke up feeling like warm garbage. We had big plans for Saturday - lunch and a show. That never happened. We didn't leave my couch til after 2PM. Another wasted Saturday...

So, here is something funny. Today, which is roughly 1 week after all this happened, I get this email from Cara, the girl that was there from Sun Products:

Hi Denise,

Hope you had a good weekend! It was great meeting you all last Friday for dinner and the Knicks' game. Did you and Sara make it to the party after we left? So this is random, but you were telling me how nice the guy is that you are dating, but that he may be a little too religious for you. It's funny, but I've actually been looking for someone like that. If you do end that relationship, would you mind introducing us, maybe at a happy hour? If you decide to stay with him, by all means, ignore this e-mail. Regardless, it'd be fun to meet all of you again for drinks. I'm always looking for an excuse to get into the city.
Regards,
Cara

Um, I think this is a little strange, but at least it lessens the blow when I tell the BT that I don't want to see him anymore. I imagine it will go something like this "hey BT, I have good news and bad news. Bad news is that I don't want to date you anymore, but the good news is that I met another BT for you." That should work, right?





Drunk Speed Dating

Speed Dating seems to be a right of passage for a single 20-something. I have never done this before, so why not give it a shot. When I think of speed dating, a flash of Miranda from SATC pops into my head, as well as Steve Carell from 40 Year Old Virgin. But those are not "real life" (as much as I wish I loved the SATC life), so I gave it a shot with my buddy Danielle.

We decided it would be a good idea to get a drink before hand to loosen up. A drink turned into 2 glasses of wine at one bar and another at Madame X, the location of the speed dating. Danielle perfectly described this place, "it looks like a place where people go and spooge all over each other" They had bad red lighting, red couches that look "worn" and lots of mirrors. It looks like a bad scene from Moulin Rouge.

The directions for the speed dating are simple. I had a pen and piece of paper. I was to write down every ones name and put a few sentences about our conversation, so I could remember them later. We were going to talk with roughly 12 guys for 3 minutes. I would then log on to the website tomorrow and pick my favorites that I wanted to go on a date with. If they also picked me, then we would get a message with each other's email address. Simple, right?

Initially, there were more girls than guys, so I was a wee bit concerned at the beginning. The guys finally showed up and they didn't really impress me. Here is where things went wrong. The first guy kicked over my glass of wine. My immediate thought "oh no, I can't go thru this sober!" I remember that he was nice, from Toledo and had REALLY bad jeans & shoes. And then the rest are a blur. I was more focused on my stomach. I was SOOOO hungry. I didn't eat, I had 2.5 glasses of wine pumping thru my veins and all I wanted was some food. After talking to a few guys, I realized I completely failed in my directions. I didn't write down a single name or comment. Fail. We then broke for halftime. The guy that kicked over my wine bought me another glass. I didn't realize this happened, so I bought one for myself. Great, more wine and hardly any food. There were a few snacks, which I was belly up against the bar shoveling cucumber sandwiches in my mouth, as well as carrots. I couldn't eat enough. I am sure I looked like a big winner: belly up at the bar, shoveling food in my mouth with 2 glasses of wine in front of me. Who wouldn't want to date me?

After stuffing my face, I went back to my throne (my chair really looked like a throne). I had 2 glasses of wine and 6 more people to talk to. I made a mental note to write down names, but again, I failed. There were a lot of Russians. One guy asked me, "Do you like to read?" I said no - I really am not a big reader. He talked about how he loves the Twilight Series and he just couldn't believe I didn't like to read. I told him I love to read In Style each month. He was not impressed. I was not impressed with him. There was an awkward silence. I then asked if he was team Jacob or Edward. Again, he really wasn't impressed at all. I remember thinking THESE 3 MINUTES ARE NEVER GOING TO END.

At the end of the session, I wrote down zero names. I was a bottle + deep in wine. I was light headed and STARVING.

Danielle and I decided to go visit her roommate Renata at the restaurant she worked at, which was a trendy place in the Village. Um, we were too drunk to be there. We ordered the cheapest wine on the menu because we are classy like that. We then got into a very confusing conversation with our server over bruschetta. I remember thinking, "send me bread with tomatoes on it. Actually just send me anything." We finally figured it out that it was not bruschetta but dips. Why on earth call it bruschetta when it was a freaking dip? I then dropped my plate and announced that to the bar. We then ordered the octopus salad. I loved it. I love it when the suction cups are all fried and crispy. It was yummy.  It was a good meal, but I am sure I would have enjoyed it more sober. 

Some lessons learned tonight:

1) Speed Dating with 1 - 2 glass of wine is ok. No one wants to talk to the sloppy drunk.
2) Follow the directions. For the record, I never logged on and picked anyone because I couldn't remember any names. No one impressed me, so I guess it was for the best.
3) No nice restaurants when drunk - greasy pizza will do.

What Would Jesus Do?

 

As most of you probably know, I have been seeing a guy that I affectionately refer to as the "bible thumper". I haven't posted anything due to my fear of him "friending" me on Facebook and discovering my posts about him. I even deleting my former blog posts about him (he is also the natural body builder). Now, I just don't give a shit, so I figured I would update on the progress, or lack there of, with this guy. If we do become facebook friends...he will be on limited profile, so I am safe.

 
Don't get me wrong, he is a nice guy. He loves Jesus...I mean, REALLY loves Jesus. He is committed to fitness and is into natural body building, down to painting himself orange and strutting on stage in a man-kini. As you can tell, this is not going to work. Jesus is cool and all, but his LOVE for JC rivals that of my love for wine. My commitment to fitness comes with its peaks and valleys...and well, I have been stuck in a valley for quite some time. Let me recap some date highlights:

First Date
It went better than expected. I actually had a great time. I was concerned about his work ambition as it sounded like he was a secretary, but I let it go. I can't recall any specifics that we talked about, but the conversation was good and I laughed a lot. Mainly, laughing at myself, but whatever. After dinner, he carried me across a puddle. Um, ok. I am not exactly feeling slim these days, so that kind of weirded me out. Then we also made out on a street corner for an hour. All in all - I give the date 7 out of 10. And as you will see...he peaked on the first date.

Secondish Date
I don't really count this as a true date. It was my birthday and I went to beer club for it. He came. I didn't really talk to him that much but when he left, I walked outside with him and made out like teenagers.

Real Second Date:
Once a month, this bar in Tribecca has Cincinnati night. They serve all the finest cuisines from the Nati, including (my favorite) Skyline, LaRoses, Montgomery Inn and Graeters. You have to make reservations because there are a lot of Ohio transplants here who look forward to this night as much as I do. I made reservations for 9PM and confirmed with the BT (bible thumper) that this time would work. He said yes, no problem. Now, he works in the city. Lives in Queens. Not far from Tribecca. I arrived 10 minutes early to claim our table. They wouldn't seat us until both of us were there. He then texted me saying he was running 10 minutes late. Ok, no problem. I found the lone seat at the bar and kicked back some Little Kings beer. Then, a 9:15pm, he texted that he was still 15 minutes away. I asked the guy if we still had a shot at our table and he said that they give away the tables after 15 minutes if both people aren't there. With a big crowd outside, I could see that I had lost my table. There were no other seats at the bar and sadly what came to my mind was "oh well - I have a seat, so at least I can eat." Uber selfish, I know.

BT shows up a little before 9:40PM. I kept thinking, "Denise, are late to everything, don't get upset. You work late too and things come up." THEN he said - I left work, went home to shower and change, and I just knew I didn't have enough time. WTF?!?!!? You f-ing left work late, knew you were going to be way more than 10 minutes late and you still went home to change? No. Not cool. The nice old man beside me, got up and gave the BT his chair. A part of me wishes he didn't do that once I learned he went home to shower. After 10 minutes, I cooled down, partly because I killed a bucket of Little Kings beer. It was an ok conversation. It feels like we are just scratching the surface with "what are your plans this weekend?" "how was work?" I can't tell you anything about where he grew up, if he has siblings, what he likes to do outside of bible study, etc. He did tell me that he was "super stressed about work" because he was planning this big event. His biggest stress: the food. Where on earth where they going to go to eat? Would these people like it? Oh, the stress. I had to hold myself back from not laughing. He had confirmed my thoughts: he is a secretary. You can wrap it in a pretty bow and say "marketing analyst / office manager" but at the end of the day dude, you are a secretary.

Then, the bill comes and he conveniently leaves to go to the bathroom. Ok, I usually would have no problem picking it up, but he was f-ing 40 minutes late. He came back and the bill just sat there. Obviously, needing to address the payment situation -  I offered to spilt it. He took me up on the offer and then goes into a whole conversation about his finances, which I didn't want to hear. It just became even more awkward after that.

We left and he offered to walk me home. We got to my door and he made the impression a lot of people make "you live here?" So, I felt like I had to prove that while it looks super shitty from the outside, it's actually a nice space. We went up and my roommates were still up. I asked if he wanted to see the view of the city from the roof. And yes, I admit - it was partly because I knew he wanted a MOP (make out party) and partly because I love the view. We made out and then he thought it would be a good idea to go to second base on the roof. It was super awkward with the fumbling of the bra and the overall awkwardness of it all, not to mention the denim cock thrusts. I was so over it. I could not wait for him to leave. But not one to throw in the towel, I said I needed to give him another chance.

Funny conversations between second and third dates:

Let me lay out the picture: Sunday afternoon. Me hungover, laying in bed, watching Intervention (best show ever) to make myself feel better about my life. Highly recommend this therapy by the way. My phone rings and it's BT.

Me: Hey - how's it going?
BT: GREAT! what are you up to?
Me: ugh, well just being lazy. What are you up to?
BT: Oh you know. I went to the gym this morning and then went to Church. After Church, a bunch of my church friends and I volunteered at the Soup Kitchen for a few hours and then we went to brunch.
Me: .....
He has done more today that I will most likely do all week. Definitely not going to work.

BT: Hey, how's it going?
Me: Great - just on my way to happy hour with friends. I am excited for some wine. What are you doing?
BT: On my way to Bible Study
Me: .....

Third AND Final Date
We decided to meet up last night for a comedy show and dinner. Great - I love comedy shows and food. He texted me earlier in the day asking if I could be back in the city by 6:30pm. I really wanted to go to the gym and shower beforehand, but I decided not to so we could make the 6:30 show. I said it would be close, but I would be there. He then said he could do a concert and my exact text was "let's do the 6:30 show and grab food after. How about sushi?" His response "sounds great. Call you at 5:30pm" Right at 5:30, he calls but I am in the work shuttle and don't feel like talking. I text him and say, " In the shuttle, can't talk but I will get there close to 6:30, depending on the traffic." His response, "I will be there at 6:40". I asked what time the show was and he said 6:30. I said "you're not going to make the show? is the show a no-go?" His response, "let's say no to the show. where can you meet?" WHERE CAN I F-ING MEET? I CAN MEET AT 6:30PM AT 28TH AND 8TH LIKE YOU F-ING SAID TO SEE A F-ING COMEDY SHOW! Ugh, I was so annoyed. I could have totally took the early shuttle home, went to the gym and then we could have met later had I known the show was a no-go. For the record, I was at 28th and 8th (the location of the comedy show) at 6:23PM. I really wanted to see a comedy show, so I was partly pissed that he cancelled that without warning and was late again. He left work at 5:30 TO GO HOME AND CHANGE. WTF. If you know you don't have time to do that, you don't go home. Simple.

He showed up to a bar I found at 28th and 8th at f-ing 7:05PM. I was so pissed. Not only did we miss the show, but he was 35 minutes late. Why on earth would he offer to go to a show at 6:30 if he couldn't make it? I work in f-ing NEW JERSEY and made it on time. He works a few blocks away and was 35 minutes late. I was so not happy. That's when I went into "I will say whatever the fuck I want" mood. He talked about how his friend is starting a bible study, but he thinks 2 bible studies and church in 1 week might be too time consuming. My response, "you really love Jesus, huh?" His, "yes, I love me some Jesus." Me, "oh, you have made that very clear." <insert awkward silence>. We then go to this sushi bar he picked out. It was an absolute hole. We sat down and it smelled like there was a dead fish on the table. This place reeked. I nearly gagged. He asked if I wanted to leave? No dip shit, let's sit here and smell dead fish. We then went to another spot and it was good. I asked more about where he lives and who he lives with and that's when he dropped a bomb. He lives with 4 people in a 3 bedroom apartment. I asked if they converted the living room into a bedroom. Oh no - BT and one of the guys actually share a room - straight up college style. What.The.Fuck. And then, he talked about work and it was a pretty stressful week. What is his stress this week? Journals. His boss ordered 2,000 journals and they had no place to store them - OH NO, the crisis! Where on earth would he put all these journals? He had to find hiding spots this week. WTF. He walked me home, tried to kiss me, I went in for a hug instead and that's where we left it. And that is how it all ended.

Needless to say, I have tried and the towel is tossed in. Charge on Jesus Solider. God Speed.