Feelin feisty. It could be the red wine, or maybe its the prosciutto. Either way, I'll tell you about the dating pool in SB. I promise this weekends blog will have food related stuff. I'll be in Salt Lake City, UT and am bound to eat something tasty.
Anyway, this last weekend I went on a man hunt with my gal pal M. M is recently single too so we had similar objectives. I am weirdly fearless when it comes to men. I will go up to anyone, talk to anyone, call anyone over. This proved to be a negative. Let me break down who I met:
Spotted a cute guy at Joe's. I motioned for him to come over. He did. We talked and he seemed cool. I gave him my number. However, he was wearing a beanie. M asked him to reveal his hair, and he was totally bald. NOT A GOOD LOOK. Two days later he texts me. I text him back short answers cause hey, its a text. He proceeds to send me this:
"You are quite loquacious with your texts. Whats with all your short answers? I'm beginning to think I'm talking with a child."
Ok wow. Game over.
Scooby Doo and Desperation Too:
M saw a guy she thought was cute. As a good friend, I offered to be a wing man and start a convo with said guy. My job then was to chat up the friend who looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo while M did her thang. I asked cute guy for a cigarette (I dont smoke), choked on one for awhile to get the convo going and then talked to Shaggy to keep him busy. Shaggy was cool except the opposite of my type. He was about 6'4" with shaggy hair and super skinny. I gave him my # because I was bored. Since Saturday, he has texted me 4 times and called 3. Desperation is a stinky cologne.
Last guy of the night was odd. He came up to me while I was waiting in line to get into The Savoy. He was ok looking in the face, problem was, he was wearing the following:
1. Sparkly Ed Hardy baseball cap
2. Tight jeans
3. Cowboy boots
He looked like he was pushing 40 too. He was super complimentary and asked for my number. I started to give it to him because at this point I had 4 beers. Immediately, I asked him what my name was. He couldn't remember. Normally I don't care, but this guy was gross. He kept calling me "cutie." I refused to tell him my name or give him the rest of my number. He finished with, "I see you're playing hard to get. Ok cutie, I'll call you later."
Major gross. And asshole, you can't call me. You don't know my name or number.
So if this is whats left out there for us single (approaching 30) women, ummm I give up. Santa Barbara is clearly a mess. Next weekend, I guess Ventura?