Ho Knee

Sorry I have not written this week at all. I am on vacation and decided to really enjoy the relaxation of my time off. I was told that I have neglected you, my followers. I was told that since I created this blog, I needed to keep it up. My bad!!!

“How come I’d never hear you say
I just wanna be with you
I guess you never felt that way…”
So I was in Chicago for work. I had been there for 2 weeks and it was the last night before I was to leave. I didn’t want to be in Chicago, trust me on this, my friends. I had a bad experience with the first female I dated after my separation in Chicago, and she was still there. I could feel her presence. I could also see her car.
No I wasn’t following her. Stalking her. Looking for her in any way, shape or form. I most certainly didn’t want to see her. Well, maybe I did but only if we were back in the hotel in Aurora and it was Christmas Eve again… but I’m not telling that story for a long time. “Stay focused Steve…stay the course”. Ok, maybe I wanted to see her, but only if she was under the tires on my rental Hyundai. So here I was, in her town and thinking of the hotel just up the street where we were together…and I was a little sexed up. Ok, maybe a lot sexed up. So I went to the bar named after a first season professional football player,(if I don’t name people, should I really name places????) with the idea I was going to have a few drinks and forget about the way I was feeling. Yeah, that was what I wanted. What I got was a whole lot better…and then a whole lot worse.
So I sat at the bar and drank a Captain and Coke. And then another. And then, as I am about to order another (I had not yet established my 2 drink rule as of this time.) A woman sits next to me and tells me to buy her a drink. She didn’t ask me if I wanted to, she told me to, so I did. She told me her name, which I don’t remember, so I will call her “hot girl who is about to have my pants around my ankles”, or HGWIATHMPAMA for short. Yeah, that’s short. She tells me I look sad. and it isn’t gonna help sitting at a bar drinking by myself. She asks me what I am sad about and I tell her I wasn’t sad (not sure if I was lying or not. so that still follows Steve Rogers Rule #1). I tell her I am in town for work and that I am leaving in the morning. She tells me she doesn’t care and that I should buy her another drink. I do. (Does it seem like I am being dominated here a little bit and that I am kinda liking it? It should, because I am.)
She sips her second drink, sucking one of the ice cubes into her mouth and staring  me straight in the eyes, pulls my face towards her and proceeds to push the ice cube into my mouth with her tongue. Luck for me it was a tiny cube because she kept her tongue in there and I think her tongue touched my spine. She kept her eyes open… and I know this because mine were locked on hers. This doesn’t happen to me. This doesn’t happen outside of porn as far as I know. Maybe this happens to famous people, but not me. This has to be a 7dream… one where I am being throat fucked by a smoking hot female that has also just decided to check to see if I am enjoying the kiss. Shit, yes, I was, as most of the blood left my body and raced to the source of a really hard squeeze of my junk from my new friend. Really hard. She slides back and says we should go. Really, because I thought I just came (BADUMPUMP).     
I take out my wallet to pay and she replaces my wallet with her hand, once again wrapping her hand around me. We leave and she follows me to my hotel, which shares a parking lot with the sports bar. Convenient? Never before, but today ir replaces Walt Disney World as the Happiest Place On Earth. To me at least…and at least for the next 15 minutes anyway. We get in the elevator and she pushes me against the side and probes my skull with her tongue again, her hand still massaging my happy parts. This only happens in Playboy Forum or Penthouse Advisor or whatever.  Well this story has an ending nothing like any of those. Trust and believe.  
            I think I will stop here as there is way too much to this story and I don’t want to leave out any of the details or rush to get this done. To Be Continued…
No one sent me a link so here is another of my favorites. If you have a cool link, send it to me and if I love it too, I might add it here. Till then, enjoy “I’m On A Boat”. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=avaSdC0QOUM
                                  
“Dirty babe

 You see the shackles

 Baby I’m your slave
  I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave

     It’s just that no one makes me feel this way

    Take ’em to the chorus…”

FWB (part 2)

This is part 2 of FWB. We have covered the first part of the day up to the point that I left the New Years Eve Party. I need to cover a couple things I left out and finish up this holiday from hell tale of woe.
Big noise, black smoke
So pig-headed couldn’t see the joke.
But it ain’t funny
Ask the fly on the wall
It’s only living
It don’t matter at all, at all, at all.

So I told you all I left but I didn’t tell you the mental debate that I was having before I did. I really didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and I wanted a New Years kiss to start the year with a bang (a figure of speech, I assure you. As it turns out I almost started it with a bang of the kind you were thinking. YUCK). I am sure if I stayed I would be disappointed at midnight, but even though I knew the chance of the ever elusive kiss was a pipe dream where I was, a man can dream. I hate that I am writing this, by putting it out there it gives it a life of its own, but I decided when I started this I would not censor myself. There is a scene in the movie Private Parts where Howard Stern is telling his wife (movie wife anyway) that the only way he could be good at what he does is when he feels he is sharing too much and is about to stop, he needs to push open that door and let it all out. Fuck it. Kevin Smith, award winning writer and director once said, “Fortune favors the bold”. He then used his credit cards and borrowed every friend he had and he made the epic movie CLERKS. So fuck it, FFTB.
So I wanted to stay but I didn’t. I got a text from FWB asking if I was coming over. I looked around the party, kicked myself for being a social retard (here comes that low self esteem again. [not really. This is what is known as self effacement with the intent to suck the readers into cheering for the underdog.]), and text yes and ask for her address. Somehow the GPS took me right there and I wonder if this is a sign that I have not made a huge mistake. I assure you it was not. A sign that is. It was a mistake. A huge one. Epic even. So I get there and FWB is sitting in her living room and her daughter was in the recliner, laptop in her hands, iPod headphones in and drinking something from a juice box as I remember it. They were watching the Jersey Shore. I should have Snookied my way out of there. I didn’t. It was really quite a Situation.(get it? I turned Snookie into a verb and used Mike as…whatever.)
So I sat on the couch and I felt her kid eyeballing me. I kept looking up fast and catching her. It was weird. As I said in part one I had reached my 2 drink limit, and I am sure I was acting a little different that I was at dinner 5 hours before. I was being stared at by her daughter. I wanted to go back to the party and take my chances, but I thought I probably shouldn’t drive. The drinks were hitting me and I could feel my face getting all hot and red. I also was wondering if maybe I had a booger on my face the way the kid was looking at me. I must have been acting strange, because FWB asked me to step outside and asked me what my problem was. I told her I had no idea what she was talking about and she said I was acting “different” than I was at dinner. Well, duh!!!! Your friggin kid is eyeballing me like a fat kid looking at an unopened package of Peeps. Chocolate covered ones. They’re new, check em’ out. Creppy!
So we watch the ball drop and she tells her kid we are going to watch a movie. I am looking around for the den or family room when I realize she is talking about her bedroom. This might be interesting after all. No kiss at midnight, but maybe something to do with balls dropping after all. One can only hope. So we depart to the bedroom…which was about 5 feet from the living room. And with a flimsy hollow core door separating me from the creepy kid. This is gonna be fun. Yeah, right.
So we start watching the movie. We are laying in her bed and watching a movie. I start my patent pending move #4, laying in bed with an ok looking woman all horned up, a little liquored up and letting my hands roam all over her body and hoping she isn’t gonna stop me, move. Don’t use it. It doesn’t work. At least not for me. Maybe you should try it and let me know. I am open to adapting this move with input from others. Help me be a better me. PLEASE!!!!! 
Long story short I leave without even the aforementioned kiss, much less sticky parts(sorry to my sister for that one. You will have to watch quite a few episodes of celebutard dancing shows to remove that visual. My bad). I leave, have a couple more Captain Morgan & Coke’s before sending a couple drunken texts and falling asleep fully dressed, shoes and all. The next morning I send an equal amount of apology for the drunken texts, and hope my new found friends don’t judge me for my lack of judgment…or game. So I think I have another one and done. I am sort of wrong. She texts me a few days later.
She says she knows she sucks at dating. She said she doesn’t know why, but she cannot be in a relationship. She said she sucks at them. I agree. She then says we should be FWB(Google it. I had to). She said I didn’t have to buy her dinner or call the next day. I didn’t have to say nice things I really want to mean, but probably didn’t. She said we didn’t have to go to movies or bowling. All I had to do was have freaky sex with her whenever I wanted. I could do anything I wanted to and some things I had only seen in the tapes smuggled out of Abu Ghraib. All I had to do was say yes. I decided to see what the boundaries would be. I mentioned a few things I have heard about (not like I have seen them on an internet site like Bangbros.com or Brazzer.com or any such non work appropriate site of an adult nature. Not like that at all). She said she doesn’t want to talk about specifics, but suffice it to say I would not be disappointed. Somehow I doubted that very much.
I thought about it. What was the down side? A female willing to do just about anything I ever wanted, and some I am pretty sure are not legal since Sodom & Gomorrah. No strings. No meals!!! Oh, how many meals I have provided the hungry single females of Duval county in the last 10 months?(and just on a side note, you don’t get an appetizer, a main course of steak and lobster, a dessert and coffee and not put your hand down my pants. A man has to have standards.{If you are reading this, and we are currently or about to date, this is a joke. If you are reading this and we have dated, you also know this is a joke….unless you did it. Then it was awesome and I still wake up shouting your name some nights}) I also remember the scene on New Years Eve. I also saw the movie where Glenn Close boiled Michael Douglas’s bunny. She poured acid all over his car. She showed up in his house. She was nutso, and so was FWB. My co-worker, one of the kindest and simply funniest people I have ever met, nicknamed her SHANK-SHANK. That name was a keeper. So I chose to pass on the FWB. Don’t judge me too harshly. I still have her email address if you want it. I’m sure she is still willing.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it…      
I have decided to include a link to something I find hilarious each time going forward. If you have a cool link, send it to me and if I love it too, I might add it here. Till then, enjoy “Dick In A Box”. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhwbxEfy7fg
Like walking in the rain and the snow
When there’s nowhere to go
And you’re feelin like a part of you is dying
And you’re looking for the answer in her eyes.
You think you’re gonna break up
Then she says she wants to make up.

Sorry…

I have been remiss with my blog…I will fix that tonite. To tide you over here is a song lyric I cant get out of my head.

“This is ten percent luck,
twenty percent skill,
fifteen percent concentrated power of will,
five percent pleasure.
fifteen percent pain
and fifty percent reason to remember the name…”

FWB part 2 tonite…I promise.

FWB (part 1)

This is the story of a girl I named FWB. She was something I had never seen before and I really hope to not see for a while unless it is with someone other than me.
Ain’t got no time for no haters 
Just live your life
(Hey, ayy, ayy, ayy)
No tellin’ where it’ll take ya
Just live your life
(Oh, ayy, ayy, ayy) 
 (figure out the song yourself)
So it was coming up on New Years and I was in a little bit of a panic. Who wants to spend the night with Dick Clark (I am not going to make fun of him. I am afraid of karma. I will say it makes me sad he won’t just stop coming out every year. And Ryan Seacrest? Can he be a bigger suck up and ASS CLOWN? I don’t think so) counting backwards? Not this guy I can assure you. I did have a party I was going to but it was not that kind of party where I was going to get a kiss at midnight.
So I was fishing on the dating pond that is POF. I have told all who read this to avoid online dating numerous times. That being said I myself cannot seem to take my own advice. So I met FWB on the first. Her picture was shot from a camera phone and at the downward angle that most women seem to use more often that not. I have since been told by one of my coworkers that this is to hide the double chin and creates a slimming effect somehow. I now agree with him and have taken this as my new favorite camera angle. I will only be photographed from now on in my car (truck), from a downward angle and by a camera phone. So it has been written. So shall it be done. Let’s just say she was not exactly slim.
I know what EVERYONE of you is thinking. Tom, have you seen your reflection lately? Yes, I have. I more than most people am very aware of my physical being. I get it and I am working on it. But I don’t have my body type listed as AVERAGE anywhere. I am honest, and since it is one of my 2 rules, I really appreciate it in others. What I lack in slimness I make up for with my charming personality. NOT. (That is another example of the NOT joke Borat) She was a bigger woman, and by no means average body type, but I liked her on the phone enough to ask her to dinner, so we ate. Plus she talked about sex during dinner while our eyes were locked.
Creature of habit that I am we went to Mellow Mushroom. (I need to stray from my comfort zone a little more in the future. The staff at MM must think I am some kind of cereal killer, [spelt wrong on purpose Coupon. Don’t correct it] Captain Crunch to be exact, as they have never seen me with the same woman twice…either that or they know I suck at dating) She was very flirty during dinner, bordering on outright listing things she would and wouldn’t do and I know I shouldn’t have, but when she asked if I wanted to come over her house and watch the ball drop together, I agreed. Don’t judge me people. I am a man after all and this might shock you to hear but we don’t always make choices with the big head.
So we parted ways and I was already wishing I had declined her invitation. I have had a one night stand, dated a couple people I regret and probably a few that regret dating me, and I knew this would be another of those “What were you thinking?” moments, but I decided to let the early part of my night dictate the latter part. I was going to a party, and if I was having a good time, not even a chance of someone watching my balls drop, (I changed that line like ten times and that was the best of the worst. Sorry for the visual) I would bail on FWB. I know I have not explained the name yet, but all we need is just a little patience. (insert the whistling part of the GNR song here in your minds please. I tried to type it and failed miserably) I went home and took a nap I think because I was planning on a big night one way or the other. I also took another shower before leaving for the party. No sense in not having extra clean balls for the drop. (sorry again)
So I got lost on my way to the party. I apparently have a horrible sense of direction and my GPS on my Blackberry (since upgraded to the iPhone 4) was not much help. I called and a little birdie helped me get there. I had not been on this side of town at night time and was all twisted around. The house was pretty cool. There was a DJ, a pool table, multiple TV’s playing football (and you know how much I love football) and there was a fully stocked bar. I shot a couple games of pool with someone (I wont say her name and since we haven’t, and probably wont date, she doesn’t get a nick name) cheering for the other person the entire time. I am not a horrible pool player, but I always seem to choke when I have to call a pocket on the 8 ball. I also had a drink or two.
I was trying to get in the spirit of the evening. I am not a drinker, and no one was pushing it on me, but when you are asked a couple dozen times why you don’t drink, sometimes it is just easier to stop the questions. I am not an alcoholic. I have never been an alcoholic. I don’t like drunks. My brother in law (soon to be ex) is a fire fighter. He has told me too many stories about drunk drivers that walk away without a scratch from accidents where the other person is on a stretcher, or worse. I also have no filter, as I have mentioned here before, and will say what is really on my mind if I have a few drinks. I also get what I like to call, Drunk Brave. I call, email, text, smoke signal, etc. females I know have no interest in me, but who DBSR (Drunk Brave Steve Rogers) knows non DB Steve Rogers has been attracted to. It is not pretty. I will just say that NYE I sent 2 DB texts and I woke up with the horror of having to write and say how sorry I was. (Thanks to both of you for not making me feel like a total douche) 2 is my limit and I forget who made them for me, but they were quite strong.
I was enjoying drunken, or almost drunk Karaoke, and the strange tribal line dancing that happens when people gather (not much of a dancer either. I hear Adam Ant in my head, “You don’t drink, you don’t smoke, what do you do?”), but in the back of my mind I was thinking about midnight. For years I was married and we never went out on New Years. Hell, there were some years where we didn’t even stay awake to see the ball drop(both ways..sorry once again). And I wanted a kiss (or something more) at midnight. I felt I deserved it, and I wasn’t gonna get it at the party…so I left and went to FWB’s place.
I think I will stop here as there is way too much to this story and I don’t want to leave out any of the details or rush to get this done. To Be Continued…

A few of my favorite things

This might be a tad self-indulgent, but seeing as how this is my blog, for me, by me and because of me, I don’t think it should be a problem that this one is all about me, especially since it shouldn’t take more than a minute or two to read. If it is- then you can vamoose….  
Cause I am, whatever you say I am
If I wasn’t, then why would I say I am?
In the paper, the news every day I am
I don’t know it’s just the way I am (Eminem)
Today I want to talk about a few of MY favorite things. I am the not rich, pasty white Oprah. Here we go.
Kindle Book Reader- Being able to steal share e-books is a great thing. I used to buy 4 or 5 books per month at Costco with an average price of approximately $15 each. Now I pay, to quote Dean Vernon Wormer in Animal House, “Zero Point Zero”. I buy a few hard cover books to support authors I am an avid fan of (shout out to Karin Slaughter and Michael Connelly. See his movie The Lincoln Lawyer in theatres in 2 weeks. You remain an inspiration to me). I am sure I will feel different when and if I ever publish anything, but for now, book sharing is for me.
R.E.S.P.E.C.T.- Find out what it means to me.
Interventions- I think helping someone in crisis is the best way to show someone they really matter to you. Usually reserved for drug and alcohol abuse, they have expanded to include things like neediness, self esteem issues and even thinking about, but not actually, asking someone on a date. This is not your father’s intervention, young man!!!
Flavored Rums- Having a rum that already has lime, orange, or Parrot Bay that is flavored with Mango, Coconut, Pineapple, Passion Fruit, Key Lime, Orange and Strawberry helps those of us not normally drinkers compete with the rest of you when it comes to polluting our bodies. Rock on, Captain Morgan!
Freedom of Choice- Isn’t it awesome that finally in 2011 some of us have the freedom to decide what is good for us and what isn’t? I love the rights our forefathers fought the Pilgrims (or someone like that. History was never my strong suit. I guess I am doomed to repeat it) for. Make a choice for yourself. Stand up and let others know you don’t agree. Sometimes do it even if you don’t disagree. It is fun. All the cool kids are doing it.
Michael Bay-  Ok, Transformers 2 was rubbish, and Mr. Bay finally admitted it was a mistake, but look at his body of work. What about Bad Boys 2, Pearl Harbor, The Amityville Horror (2005), just to name a few? Ok, most of those stink too but let’s give him another chance to redeem himself before we call for his head on a platter.
The phone 4 for Verizon Wireless- Simply put, Apple does things right. I know the “haters” are all saying that the 5 is just a few months away. Well so is the 6. Ipad2 anyone? There will always be the new hotness just around the next corner. Let’s focus on what is in the here and now. I don’t agree with Ms. Jackson (but I am nasty), it should not always be “What have you done for me lately?”.
John Favreau and Kevin Smith- Favreau for his impressive take on Iron Man,  and Kevin Smith for everything from Clerks to Red State, but especially the Evening with Kevin Smith Q&A sessions. Thank you sir for allowing us to peek behind the curtain into Prince’s world. I wish we all knew a girl named Nikki.
“WINNING”- duh.   

I will return to the normal format later this week or next, but I wanted to get a few things off my chest in a creative, and craftily hidden way. Probably failed at that too, but I am busy working on my esteem and neediness issues, among other things. Thank you for sticking with me and to paraphrase Carly Simon, “You probably think this blog is about you, you’re so vain, so vain….”

Naughty Nurse (part 2)

This is the second part of the RN story. So far it looked like a night to remember, and it was. This will chronicle the second half of the date and I will tell you how this short lived relationship jumped the shark. I’ll just say she was too good to be real.
“Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that’s alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that’s alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie” (figure out the song yourself)
So after the salad and some “ok” Italian food (so the search goes on for a quality place, true believers- help a brother out!!), RN looked at her watch and said we needed to leave pretty soon. What, no desert? Nope, we were on some kind of a time schedule apparently. I paid the check and we left. I was again only given cursory directions of “Turn here, Get in this lane”, etc. This was exciting. Kind of like a Mission Impossible task or something.
So we leave. She checks to make sure I have my socks, which I do.  I am thinking bowling. We head up Baymeadows towards Phillips, making a left onto Phillips. I am new to the area, but I know the bowling alley is the other way. We aren’t going bowling, I am told and I should just follow directions and enjoy myself. To be honest, I really am having an awesome time. Like I said in part 1, this was one of the great days. It would last about 3 weeks, but that is getting way ahead of this wonderful night. We got close to University and I figured out the destination. We were going ice skating.
We pulled in and I was smiling like a crackhead at a smashed window of an electronics store and no alarm sounding. (sobbing)” I tried to kick… but that shit just be callin’ me man, it be callin’ me, man… I just got to go to it!” (New Jack City? Anyone? Anyone?) I am sure she was as pleased with herself as I was with her. She had the crackhead smile too, minus the rotten teeth and Dave Chappelle white lips. We went in and I have to tell you we were the oldest people in the place.  The place was full of raging hormone, teenage angst and sexual energy. I couldn’t wait.
We rented skates, and I got onto the ice. I should tell you that I have not skated in over 20 years. I used to ride a skateboard everywhere in high school. I also went to the skating rink every Friday night in Jr. High school, because there was nothing else to do. I had to wear rented skates then, too, but then I was embarrassed that my family was not wealthy enough to allow me to buy skates. Shit, there were times I couldn’t even afford to go because the $6 was just not there…but this isn’t about my childhood. This about an awesome day in early January 2011 and there is a little more to cover yet. Shall we continue?
We hit the ice, a figure of speech until I actually hit the ice a few laps later. I hit hard and was laughing so hard I must have looked like a lunatic to the semi-spawning children gathering in clusters of non-parental supervised touchy feely action. My, oh my how the Friday night skating scene has changed as time passed. RN swatted the ice off my back, neck and butt. It was funny how the first ass smack was hers and then 3 weeks later she would kick my butt once again. Wait for it. Wait for it.
She held my left hand and the right hand was permanently attached to the rail around the ice. I must have looked ridiculous to anyone that was watching, which luckily for me no one was. We were just a couple of grinning and laughing old people having the time of their lives. We left a when the rink closed or maybe a little early, I don’t remember. I really didn’t want this night to end. RN’s kids were at church for the night and we still had time before she had to pick them up so we decided on dessert. It was between 9 and 10 and I couldn’t think of anyplace other than the Denny’s across the street from where she left her car. It is next door to the LaQuinta brothel on Southside and I-95, but that is another story we will need to get to at a later date. Stay focused, Steve. You are almost done here. Short breaths.
So we go in and there was more missing DNA in this Denny’s that at most Monster Truck Rally’s. I could not believe these people shared the planet with me, but this night was magical and I could not be bothered with people other than the 2 of us. I ordered a milk shake and she just had a sip on mine. Watching her figure I assume (but not nearly as much as I was). We parted ways @ 11pm that night with a kiss and a hug that seemed to last for days as we melted together. I know I sound sappy here, but these are the facts as I remember them. Take it with a grain of salt, but if you know me at all it is well documented I am a hopeless romantic. I was hooked and I honestly believe she was too.
Over the next 3 weeks we spent almost every day together in one way or another. Sometime it was just a quick lunch, others a concert and dinner with her and the RNlettes. We formed Team Coleslaw and kicked butt in a trivia contest a couple of weeks in a row at her favorite pizza place. When we were not together she would text me and she would send me pictures of her smiling between patients. It was not all smiles and smooches, don’t get it twisted, but it was pretty good. She was what many would call an over-communicator, but I am cool with that. I guess I am, too, to some extent. Maybe that is because I am such a needy person (as I have been accused by my “friends”, but as I keep saying, a story for another day), but we were on the same page….until we weren’t.
She had pictures of us together all over her Facebook page. I can only assume that her ex saw them and how she had moved on so quickly, because one night she called me and said she couldn’t see me anymore. She said her ex, we can call him “drunk sailor” because that is what he was according to her, called her and they had lunch.  She realized she still had feelings for him. She said she knew it was not a good thing, she was also falling for me but she had to give him a chance. I guess the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. She was afraid of the unknown. Another one bites the dust!!!
We have not spoken since that night. I know from the 2 times I pulled up her Facebook page she has moved to California with him and left her 2 children with her ex husband to be with DS. The fact that she could turn her back on her own children for a man tells me that she was not the person I thought she was. Maybe what I saw was “Potential RN” and the person she could have been. I know we all put on our game face in the beginning of any relationship, but this was a complete 180 degree turn from the RN I knew. It was a harsh lesson for me, but I think I am a better person for having met her. She made me realize that while most people are like an onion with all the layers under the surface, some onions look awesome on the surface and even a few layers down, but the more you peel back, some are really nasty and should be discarded before they can infect everything around them.
Not sure I have a Coupon story that could raise the humor level today. I will try to make the next entry funny, just thought it would ruin the feeling I want to convey today. Sorry.

p.s. My editor, a person that has an affinity for discounts if you get my drift, said I was way to easy on RN. Maybe so. Get your own blog discount loving person.

Naughty Nurse (part 1)

I am not sure as I begin this where it will end up. This might be all random brain pan drippings. It also might end up with a cohesive story by the end. Let’s see where this train ends up, shall we?
           
            I am sitting and listening to Linkin Park, as I am wont to do when I have a free moment. The lyrics to follow resonated with me today:
Let me apologize to begin with
Let me apologize for what I’m about to say

But trying to be someone else was harder than it seemed
And somehow I got caught up in between

Between my pride and my promise
Between my lies and how the truth gets in the way

And things I want to say to you get lost before they come
The only thing that’s worse than one is none

Over the last 2 years my life has gone through many changes. I went from living in Georgia to returning to the so called “Sunshine State”. I am still married, but have been separated for over a year and a half. I am living alone for the first time in my entire life. I am on a Vision Quest to find out who Steve Rogers (no real names here) is. I can assure anyone that cares that this journey hadhas not been without it’s share of hiccups, both personal and professional. I lost my job and was rehired by the same company a few months later, but I almost made ten years of a somewhat competent training and managerial career go down the drain over a girl. And when I say girl, she was of legal age, but still a girl. We won’t get to her for quite some time though. Sorry JC. Your day is coming!!!! Let’s talk about RN first, shall we?
I met RN through a dating web site. As I have said, I highly recommend that you do not follow my example. Use the social skills most people cultivated in their lives to interact in the real world. Me, I live in a Matrix/pseudo reality and don’t possess the skills or abilities most middle school humans have when it comes to the opposite sex. I am not looking for anyone to tell me I am wrong here, trust and believe I am very self aware and know what I am talking about here.
So I actually think she initiated contact, but I could be wrong. We talked online a few times and the next step is email. Email becomes texts as the other person feels more comfortable with you having their number and then comes the actual phone conversation. No pressure here huh? It’s not like the other person has any preconceived notions about who and what you are at all, right? And what if they have a stupid stutter or a lisp? Drew Barrymore, depending on the movie and the camera angle can be either cute, hot or not attractive at all, but to hear that lisp makes me want to retch every time. It makes me think she is uneducated and a little upidstay (that is Pig Latin- Google it) RN is a nurse, hence the name. Most people have no idea of the amount of schooling that a nurse needs to complete to become licensed. I didn’t. Let’s just say RN was not book stupid. Life stupid, maybe. Let’s judge her together, shall we?
So we decided on a first date. RN said she wanted to plan the entire thing. We had talked on the phone for like 2 weeks and there was a lot of anticipation on both of our parts. We had talked about the people that use a picture on their online profile from the 80’s and how lame this was and exchanged pictures with a newspaper in our hands like a kidnapping victim to show the date(my idea…yeah, we will talk about Peter Brady later, too). RN asked a lot of questions, as did I of her, to try to figure out the other person’s likes and dislikes. I like French salad dressing. Ken’s Steak House Low Fat Country French to get specific. She asked that among other questions, so I had no idea my salad dressing would come up on our first date. Also something she called “emergency chocolate”.
We met at a neutral place and she joined me in my truck. She didn’t feel quite safe enough to meet me at my apartment, which I agreed with (after a bunny on the stove incident in my past), so we met at the Harley Davidson dealership on Southside across from the hooker LaQuinta hotel (trust me on this one- I will tell that story another time, too). She didn’t tell me where we were going- only saying I needed to wear socks and bring a jacket. The date was Jan 7th, 3 days before my birthday mentioned in the Coupon story earlier this week (and just to retort, Coupon, I did tell you I had other people that wanted to take me out. Check yo’ self. Second, you did offer to pay me back, just after telling Thing 1 how you had no money to pay for an adult burger and she had to order from the kids menu. Don’t front!) and RN had a gift bag in her hand when she got in my truck. I was excited because since I have no family or close friends to speak of in Jax, I was looking at a gift-less birthday. She held the bag away from me so I couldn’t catch a glimpse of its contents. She just told me that good things came to he who waited (sexual innuendo??? I wish).
She gave me limited directions and we finally arrived at an Italian restaurant. I remembered telling her I have a pizza place, but good Italian food so far has eluded me here in Jax. I opened her door for her, being the perfect gentleman I am. She handed me the bag to hold while she extricated herself from my truck only after telling me I could not look yet. I followed instructions, but only after looking straight down into the bag and seeing nothing other than tissue paper. I will tell you this bag was heavy. Not concrete brick heavy, but it had a significant heft to it. We headed into the restaurant, which ended up sucking by the way (and thus the search continues for a good Italian spot. Help a brother out, my Jax followers?) and I gave the hostess my name as Steve, Steve Rogers. RN looked at me like she might have been picked up by the wrong guy and was afraid there was a rag with chlorophorm and a handful of black Hefty bags in her future. I told the brief version of my pseudonym’s origin and she laughed. It was a nice laugh, with lots of smiling, and I was would venture to say we were both happy so far. SO FAR.
We are seated and before the waitress brings our menus RN hands me the bag and tells me to hold it, but again, no peeking. We order salads and I am not surprised to hear they do not have French dressing. RN tells me to open the bag now and it contains not 1, but 2 bottles of Ken’s dressing and a large bag of Ghirardelli Milk Chocolate. I am beaming with a smile from ear to ear and, believe it or not, am fighting back tears. No one I have dated has shown the slightest interest in my likes and dislikes (sorry Coupon, but if you search your heart you know this to be true), much less provided for me something I would otherwise had to do without. It was pretty friggin’ amazing. She was just watching me and could see I was getting choked up. She reached across the table and touched my hand, and I knew this was going to be a special night. And it was. If I am being honest with myself, this was one of the best nights I have had in a few years. Sad, but true.
We finished dinner and sat across from the table looking into each other’s eyes for a while. It was like we were the only ones in the place. It was a great feeling that someone I had really just met (even though we had been talking on the phone for weeks) cared so much about me and my happiness. I know, it was only salad dressing, but it was really so much more. It was oh, so much more.
I’m going to stop here because this is really long. Sorry. You’ll have to come back for part 2 later this week or maybe next week. I have a busy weekend of friends, Thing #1’s confirmation and me wearing a suit out with friends.

  TO BE CONTINUED…

Just another Coupon story

I decided to tell the birthday story. Looking back it is one of the best Coupon stories and I probably should save it for a special occasion, but since your hero had a tough time last week, what better way to get out of the dumps that by laughing at my friend Coupon. Remember Coupon, you said it was ok.
            So my birthday was in January. Being my first single birthday in over 25 years I expected it to be like a scene out of Caligula or at least a mediocre adult film from the 80’s. I was treated instead to something akin to a Monster Truck Rally that didn’t have enough mud or trucks and no one was injured in when Bigfoot blows a wing nut valve or some such nonsense and careens into the stands. Oh, but don’t fear, it was a truck wreck on a level I never thought possible. Trust and believe!!!!
            Being the social butterfly I am, I had a couple people say they wanted to take me out for my birthday (and yes Timmy both were females). One is a new friend (only because she is in a relationship. As soon as that ends and I figure it out, I’m in there) that was in one of my classes. We go to the movies every couple weeks and she is a person that gives it to me straight. “She is not into you at all” or “Please don’t ever wear that shirt with me again”. Yeah, TA is a straight shooter all the way. The other invite was from a lady I also work with that I have been interested in since the day I started here in Jax. She is also the one TA is refereeing to above as not being into me and I know she is right…but I remain ever hopeful.
            She has a few nicknames but the best was created by the naming guru that came up with Coupon, Orange Vest & Esther 2.0 to name a few, MM (stands for mixed message as she says she just wants to be friends, but her body language is saying something else according to him). Since then we have talked it out and I have accepted that we are better as being friends. This way I have a friend for a long time. With my history of turn and burn relationships lately, she would be hating me by now if we were to date. It might be worth losing her as a friend to take a chance, but that decision has been made for me. (To put a visual on her picture Angela from the Office, but with a way better attitude and a much better body).
            Anyway both asked me to go out for my birthday and as it happened I started seeing RN, we will get to her story in a little while. Waiting until I know she will be able to see it and feel my venom, and she also was in contention for the birthday dinner sweepstakes. It was looking like I would be able to pick and choose and if I played my cards right, maybe stagger a couple of these special ladies out and eat on someone else’s dime for a couple days at least. Sadly, that was not to happen. Enter Coupon (Sing the Metallica sound Enter Sandman, but replace Sandman with Coupon. It will make you smile).
            I received a call from Coupon on my birthday reminding me that I had told her we could go out for my birthday. “A deal is a deal Tom”, she said. I told her about the other offers, my desire to go to Mellow Mushroom (which if you have one near you and you have not partaken, run, don’t walk people). Coupon being Coupon she said we could go for pizza but she had a coupon and this would allow me to try something new (read as “not what you want for your birthday dinner”). She said we had to spend at least $50, and I assumed that meant she had a gift certificate for $50. You all know what happened when you assume, I assume(hehehe)? Well that is exactly what happened to me.
            So Coupon tells me where the place is, I have never been in this area before, and as always with my stellar sense of direction and crappy Google Map GPS on my BlackBerry, I got lost. I was talking to RN and she was telling me how there is no such thing as a female friend, especially if you once dated, as Coupon and I did. She was of the opinion that Coupon was just awaiting the signal from the coach and she would be back “in the game’ as it were. More than one person has proffered this opinion, which I always discount. “We tried it, it didn’t work, and we are just friends. Nothing more, ever.” SURE!!!!! And this day would test that friendship on so many levels before it ended, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
So I get there at the same exact time as the CouponMobile. This car makes the Hong Kong Phooey Mobile look like a Ferrari. It is really quite the jalopy. She has her 2 kids with her and I am honestly excited. Her son thinks I walk on water and her daughter flip flops between me having a huge nose and being a “butt” and being sorry for everything mean she has said (my nose is a travesty in all honest) and loving me (not the same way she loves Justin Bieber, but before the hair cut I am sure). The Couponettes love them some Tom…except when they don’t. I guess we would see how this would go.
            We go in and there is one other group at a table besides us. There was a jumbo screen TV covering one wall and it was playing UFC Unleashed, kind of like a best of show featuring the best fights of a certain fighter. AWESOMENESS!!!! There is little I like better than pizza, a large glass of sweet tea and some male on male grappling. Wait… that came out wrong. Anyway, I digress. So Coupon and I decide to split a pizza. Kid #1 decides he wants Cheese sticks as an appetizer and wings for dinner. Kid #2 (that’s right, I’m calling you poop) wanted the same appetizer and wanted a Philly Cheese Steak. Mom was not having it.
            Coupon began to argue with thing 1 & thing 2 in an attempt to get them to share an appetizer. I knew it wasn’t going to happen, so she should have as well. I don’t think it matters to her. I really think she just likes to raise her voice. We figure out that the shared appetizer isn’t going to happen. The kids order drinks and Coupon tells the waitress, “no lids and no straws”. Did I forget to mention that Coupon is trying to singlehandedly save the world from Armageddon? She actually believes Al Gore and that Manbearpig is coming to destroy the town of South Park…and she is super serial!!!! (once again, Google it). I make a point of telling the waitress I will have both a lid and a straw which creates a storm of ME TOO’s from things 1&2. I laugh like a maniac on the inside as I know I have started the cycle of the downward spiral and I cannot wait to see where it goes. Dummy.
            So the appetizers come and Coupon snatches a cheese stick that makes thing 1 (or was it 2. I forget which is which at this point and it really doesn’t matter from here on out). She then snatches another from the other thing. They are now covering their food like a nerdy kid in Geometry class during final exams. I find this hilarious as, being a child, nothing is really yours. If you didn’t work for the money to buy whatever that thing is, it is not yours. End of story. So Coupon continues to snatch food from their plates and they continue to reach in kind. It ceases to be funny after a while. Finally the main courses arrive and I can begin this birthday extravaganza. You didn’t forget that this was my birthday did you? And did I get an appetizer? Nope.
            So we begin to eat the pizza. It was ok. Not Mellow Mushroom quality and nothing you can’t get at no less that 20 places between my house and wherever the heck I was currently. Thing #1 said her sandwich was not good. Coupon attempted to decipher what was wrong but all she could get was “I don’t like it. It is horrible”. Love thing #1. Coupon continues to ask and trying to separate the components of the sandwich into its parts in order to get her to eat it. That was a no go. The kids are yelling. Coupon was yelling and my eye began to twitch just a little. This was not going as planned. Well, not my plan anyway.
SO the bill comes. Remember it is my birthday and Coupon said we needed to spend “at least $50”.  The bill comes and it is just over $40. Coupon says we need to spend more. I am thinking she is being cheap and wants to get her full $50 from the gift certificate. She tells thing 1&2 they need to order something so they decide on zeppoles. Well actually they decided on 2 because there was no way they were going to split a desert. And thing 2 decides he needs a bottle coda to drink with his desert. Whose birthday was it again? That’s right, mine. Did I get a desert? Nope. Did I get a special bottle soda? Nope. I was just happy I didn’t kill one of the Coupon clan during the shouting over the non eaten sandwich or the non shared appetizers or the non shared deserts. I watched the UFC, ate my substandard pizza and smiled my silly little self into a sweet tea and pizza coma. So now the bill is @ $53. Coupon now pulls out the paper for her gift certificate and puts it in the stupid sticky plastic folding check covery thingy and hands it to the waitress.
            Now, Coupon and I have talked many times about her stupid coupons and how she should tell the waitress before the bill is printed. I have managed restaurants and know what sometimes it is best to know there is some special deal coming their way. She always tells me the coupon doesn’t state she needs to do this, therefore she isn’t. (such is a typical interaction with my friend Coupon). This time was just like many others and the waitress said out loud that we should have told her before the ticket was rung up and now she would have to zero the whole thing out and start over. Coupon couldn’t have cared less. (and I know how much you love that saying Coupon. hehehe). The check finally arrives and I assume it is for $3. We are asked who gets it and I point to Coupon.  I stand and watch a little more man grappling. Coupon calls me over and in a whisper, with the aforementioned check thingy in her hand, asks me if I can pay the bill and she will get it back to me later.
            Seriously? I have to pay the $3 for my birthday dinner? I don’t get to eat at the place I want? I don’t get to eat with MM or TA, or even RN? I’m with Coupon and thing 1&2, I didn’t get desert and I have to pay? TYPICAL. She tells me that she had to pay this and that, and it is a short week at school, Coupon is a substitute teacher, and next week will be as well, but she will pay me back as soon as she gets a full week pay. I take the check thingy and open it. The bill is almost $30. Apparently the gift certificate for $50 was not that but a coupon for $25 off of $50 or more. I am furious. If you know me, you are aware I do not have a poker face. It must have been obvious I was about to snap. She kept saying how sorry she was, blahblahblah. I didn’t want to hear anything from her. I put my credit card in the thingy and handed it to the waitress and walked a few steps away so as not to stab anyone with a piece of the cheap, dollar store cutlery.
            The waitress returns and I add the tip, rounding the total to an exact dollar amount, kinda my way of proving my sanity like Roy Scheider in Blue Thunder (rent it). Coupon is watching me total the bill and she reaches into her purse and pulls out her last 3 dollars and places them on the table right in front of me. I absolutely lose it. “Not only do I not get to go where I want. Not only do I not get desert on my friggin birthday. Not only do I not get to go with someone that I might have a chance of a birthday kiss that involves a little tongue. Not only did I have to pay for this crappy dinner at a place I would never eat at, but now you are judging how much tip I leave the waitress. You are gonna save the day with your $3?” I picked up her money, tossed it to her and pulled the last dollars out of my wallet and drop it on the table and leave. We didn’t talk for weeks. She called right away and said how sorry she was but I could care less (there it is again Coupon).
            We have since mended that fence, but I will tell you that I have yet to receive the money and no one blew out my birthday candle that night.  

The Eye Of The Beholder

I want to warn you in advance if you are a fan of the pop culture references I usually add and think I am so funny, this might not the blog for you to show your friends as an example of that. As the kids say, My Bad!!!
It was a tough week to be Steve Rogers, true believers. This last week I was accused of being a multitude of things, most of which, in retrospect, were probably true at one time or another. I was called an asshole at Latitudes 30 by two separate people I just met before and hopefully will never meet again, a pussy and then big pussy when I objected, I was told to get my mangina checked and since I was also an asshole I should see if I could find a gyno-proctologist to help with both my issues and save on the copay. I was told I am needy and for lack of a better term, my friends think I need an attitude intervention. I told a friend I was going to the movies with a female friend and was told definitely not to “wear that shirt”. Oh, I also got a new nickname of O2 because I was providing the oxygen that fed the drama firestorm that followed my last blog. In the words of Adam Corolla, “Good Times”.
I had no concept that by talking about the drama that is all around us (me), I was actually becoming a codependent assclown (I have looked into having this added to Webster’s dictionary and adding my picture).  I thought I was pulling back the curtain Wizard of Oz style, but I couldn’t have been more incorrect. No courage for this cowardly Lion. I already have too much of a heart, (remember the mangina?) and being a shithead, I’ve no room for a brain. I also have the feeling that the fact I don’t like football or drinking caused someone to tell me they had so much going on at work they didn’t have time to see me anymore. I also had 4 drinks one night and almost danced and the next night I was hypnotized and did a rap in Chinese, rubbed lotion on an imaginary friend, gave birth to an imaginary baby and danced to Michael Jackson’s Thriller in front of a couple hundred people I have never met before. How was your week?
I decided a couple times this week to never blog again. I started this for me, wanting to get back in a creative place so I could begin work on my short story again. Instead I have been posting the link every time I write and asking everyone to tell me how they liked it. The reviews (opinions really) have been positive and I have been really riding a wave of “You’re a really good writer!”, and “You are so funny. You should save all of these and put them out in a book” and trying to figure out how I turn all that into random fellatio or at least a hand release. Hey, I am nothing if not honest.
I decided instead to write when I want, not holding myself to the 2 per week goal I set when I began this journey, and not post a link on Facebook after this one. If people wanted to follow me; they would have to figure it out for themselves. That is where I am right now. I really wanted to follow the Drama Chronicles with a funny Coupon story. Everyone seems to be asking for one of those, and I usually live to serve. Sorry people, but I’m not feeling very funny at this time. Thank you, come again.(read as Apu from the Simpson’s) 

Drama Drama Drama

I am going to apologize in advance as this might not be as entertaining as previous entries.  I just feel some things have to be said and since this is my blog, to quote the prophet Mike Shinoda, I ask that you “turn my mic up louder; I’ve got to say something”. If you think this is about you, you’re not being vain, it just might be. If you think it is about everyone but you, you’re probably wrong and it is about you. OK, double tap on the microphone to make sure it is on. “Testing, one, two, syphilis, syphilis”. And one more pop culture reference only a few will get- “Jesus was black, Ronald Reagan was the devil, and the government is lying about 9/11. Thank you for your time and good night”. (Huey Freeman, Boondocks, 2005).  

     I want to talk about drama for a minute here. I have people that don’t like me in life. I know, I found this hard to swallow at first too (and that’s what she said), but it is true. Ex wife #1 for instance, would fall in that category. # 2 maybe not so much, but definitely #1. I doubt, however, that many people would accuse me of being “about the drama”.
     Being single and relocating to Jacksonville has presented a lot of changes for me. I have been in relationships for the last 25 plus years. Since becoming an adult (opinions vary on this subject as well), I have been with someone else more than I have not. I have never lived alone, and I quite honestly like it a lot. I also have never not had a “significant other” to do things with. That part I like a whole lot less. Lastly, I have never lived in a town like Jacksonville. Being single here is all about football or booze (and more often that not, a huge combo platter of both), and I might have to return my guy card for this, but fuck football and fuck drinking. Neither holds any attraction for me.
     When I mention the football thing people just look at me like I am some giant pussy (was gonna write punk, but this make my point clearer), but the no drinking thing is much worse. People automatically think 12 stepper, and this opens the debate of whether alcoholism is a disease or am I just a pussy for this too. When I tell them I am not a friend of Bill W (Google it, bitch), then I am faced with the look that says I am DEFINITELY a pussy. You know what people, it is a choice. BLOW ME!!!! As you may have noticed if you have read at least this far, I don’t have a filter on what I say. If I were to drink, I would lose the tiny bit of filter that is in place, and it would be a whole lot more fun at the Meetup.com events I attend. Oh, let me talk about that, since that is what started this drama talk in the first place.
     I joined a handful of Meetup.com groups when I knew I was moving to Jax, and one of them is (name withheld at my request). I really like the people in this group, many of the events we do, and, say what you will about us if you are in another group, but our women will fight your women in a Jello battle royal and win hands down. (Mud wrestling is soooo1981, but the scene in Stripes with John Candy was priceless). My hope was to meet people in my new town that could help me get out of my apartment with as little drama as possible. HAHAHAHA.
     I really don’t want to go into specifics, but let’s just say the old adage “the more things change, the more they stay the same” really applies. I remember the cliques and drama that were rampant in high school, and assumed most people would have grown out of that when they’ve hit whatever age true adulthood happens. If you don’t see where this is going, stop reading now and go back to your Kardashian marathon on E!, this is not gonna make much sense to you….Did they leave? Good, lets talk about them. What the fuck is with all the drama some people seem to surround themselves with? It is like a Perfect Storm (shout out to Markie Mark and Dr. Doug Ross from ER as boat guys that suck at their jobs) of poop. And it is always the ones that profess to be “drama free” or say how they “can’t stand drama” that seem to thrive in an environment of constant turmoil. It is ok if you want to lie to us, we really know the truth about you anyway, but please stop lying to yourself. Own it mutha’ fucker!!!
    I was going to go into great detail sighting specific examples with times, dates and attendees as well as the details as I know them (like mentioning that one guy asked me if i “wanted to go” because I compared him to a “feminine hygiene product”. I really don’t think that is necessary as if you are still with me, you have at least ten examples you have witnessed yourself and to list it here would only be perpetuating the drama. Maybe this is the best place to end with 2 things. 
1.     If you know you are dramatic, stop saying how you don’t like drama. It flows through your veins and is the lifeblood of your existence. Own it byotch!!!
2.     Save the drama for yo’ mama. Some of us don’t care to be sucked into the swirling vortex of horseshit that surrounds you. Enjoy it with those that are of your ilk, and there are plenty of them. 
  
     And in a shout-out to Jim Reihle from the Tanner In The Morning show from back in the day, “But that’s just my opinion, not necessarily that of Y-100 ownership or management. We welcome your comments.”  

  

How I became Steve Rogers (part 2)

This is part 2 of the Steve Rogers name I use for my blog. As I said before, it has been told a number of times, but there are many new people in my life as it continues to evolve. If you missed the first part- STOP NOW- and go to the navigation bar on the right side and read if first.
            So I was in the Philippines and alone. I was warned to not eat at the “local” establishments so as not to die from some intestinal parasite that my body was not conditioned to fight off. Being a fan of BBQ, and when I found out that Tony Roma’s, A Place for Ribs was still open in the “mall” across from my hotel, I had to go. I am not a fan of pork (actually my body isn’t really a fan as it wants to purge it from the vessel immediately after ingestion) but Tony Roma’s has amazing chicken and the onion ring loaf makes you want to slap a baby. Seriously. I don’t think it was just the onion rings. I think slapping a baby is a lost art. Try it sometime.
            Anyway, I was walking back to my hotel and passed a Starbucks. The Philippines Starbucks looked like the Starbucks where any and all of us go for overpriced, burnt tasting coffee with one very glaring exception. The chairs outside are filled with prostitutes rather that beret wearing tools writing their art thesis on laptops and smoking clove cigarettes. Teenaged hookers, yes. Haiku writing mother fuckers in Manila, not a one. I am not a coffee guy, nor have I ever partaken of the hourly arts, so I kept my head down and tried to get past the beanery unscathed. It didn’t happen.
            I think I mentioned the Manila military presence in part 1 but I am not going to go back and check. This was what most people would envision when you think of military presence. When I think of guys walking around a major city with assault weapons, I think of the SWAT guys I have seen at some sporting events or concerts. This was not the case in Manila. I also think I mentioned that everyone there was practically a Lilliputian by comparison. Most of the people have a vacant stare on their faces that I usually associate with the individual not staying in the embryonic fluid long enough. Picture that with an AR-15 assault weapon in his hands. Not a pleasant picture. We will get back to the “military” in a few minutes. But first, hookers and coffee.
            So I am standing just past the Starbucks, waiting for the traffic to abate when I feel a hand grab my bicep. I jump about 18 feet into the air (fuck anyone that says White Men Can’t Jump), and turn to see one of the hourly artists standing right next to me with an ear to ear grin on her face. I think she was proud that she approached me without being caught. She says hi and turns me towards the Starbucks. “You see my friend over there?” she asks. She points toward the seats and I see a woman (maybe not quite the age where we consider them woman, but this is a 3rd world country and this is the oldest profession in the world so I withhold judgment for now) and see an amazing looking brunette waving at me. She is wearing a dark blue dress that looks like it was painted on, high heels and has the best looking smile I have ever seen. If we weren’t in a questionable situation and she walked past me, even if I was walking with someone I cared about, I would have to take the chance of getting caught and check out the ass. LOVE A GOOD ASS!!!!
            I wave back and try to dislodge the clinger from my arm with the patent pending “flick an extra sticky booger off your hand” technique. Epic Fail. She holds on to me like a rookie bull rider on his rodeo debut. I tell her thanks, but I am not really interested, as I turn a little to hide the approval that some parts of me were showing. She says, “You have good time, two girls, lots of fun, good fun”, in what will go down as one of the most unconvincing sales pitches in history. She tells me a price in Pesos that converts to about $35 dollars US. Really, I can fuck 2 Filipino woman, both of which look like a party in tight cotton and clear pumps.
 I show her my wedding ring, wiggling it like John McLain in Die Hard 2 to the “just the fax” girl in the airport, and tell her I am married and my wife is in the hotel, gesturing across the street towards the Shang Hi hotel. She taps the ring and says, “You have wife, but she not here. I been seeing you for 2 days. No wife”, with the confidence that says she is getting paid.
            Oh Shit!!!! I panic, and if you know me at all, I don’t have a poker face and cannot lie to save my life. I also don’t long for a trip to the free clinic when I get back to the US so there is no paper trail with my insurance company. I repeat that my wife is upstairs and she lets go of the arm and stand straight in front of me. She looks me straight in the eyes and asks my name. “Steve, I respond. Steve Rogers”. “Ok, Steve. Later I call your room. If you wife answer, I hang up, no problem. If she no answer, we come up, you pay us (the equivalent of $45 US)”.
I think again how she said there would be no problem, like they would tell me they were planning to steal my kidney and leave me in a tub full of ice or steal my passport and all my credit cards and leave me tied to the bed posts. That being said, the thought of 2 woman at one time made me think of the line from Office Space where the neighbor says he would “get 2 chicks to double up” on him if he won a million dollars. When the main character said he didn’t have to be a millionare to get that he replied that it would to get them to do that with him. All I needed was the loose bills I had in my pocket. I also flash to the 2 rules I have mentioned before and I was only 2 months into marriage #2, and I’d decided to keep my penis away from the local talent.
I tell her that sounded good and she walked away with a “See you later, Steve”, and she returned to the tables, awaiting the next American businessman to wander past, or into, her web. I crossed the street and out of nowhere one of the vacant staring military men walked up to me and asked what “that woman” said to me. I told him she asked me my name ( which wasn’t a lie- but thought if I told the whole truth I would have to explain to a judge how I, Captain America, was trying to avoid the clap outside the Manila Starbucks. That’s right, Steve Rogers is Captain America, so essentially I told a Filipino hooker I was the First Avenger, Captain America!!!
The guy locks eyes with me, no longer looking like a thalidomide baby (Google it, bitches), and becoming pretty scary, says, “Yeah, right. Get to your hotel now”! Trust and believe I went and didn’t even look out the window.
Flash forward about a week and I am leaving the call center I was there training at. It is about 4am and the streets are as empty as they are just before a zombie outbreak happens. I am walking down a 4 lane road with a median strip in the middle. I am a cautious person and look around my surroundings, ever vigilant. I see something that causes me to quicken my pace and hear “STEVE. STEVE ROGERS” echo off the buildings. I know who it is and I quicken my pace and glance to see the same “working girl” with the clear pumps and a different clingy cotton dress creeping up as she clip clops across the street shouting my name. “Slow down. Why you walk so fast? I’m right here. Steve….”.
I left without being caught and I keep the Steve Rogers name going here in the US. Whenever I am asked my name by a hostess at any restaurant I never give my government name. So now you know. And knowing is half the battle!!!!! 

How I became Steve Rogers (part 1)

This story has been told quite a lot, but I am sure not all have heard it. It is more about prostitutes and a knock-off watch salesman I came to call “Rolex” than being anything else, but let me not get ahead of myself. This is a long story so I’ll break it into at least 2 segments. Maybe 3, I never know where the keyboard will take me once I begin to flow.   
     I was in the Philippines training a group of customer service reps. My employer told me they were going to send someone with me, but when it came time to book my trip, I was told I would be going alone. I didn’t need someone to hold my hand. I’m a man after all and can take care of my self. That was before I looked up business travel in the country and was shocked by what I read.

     It seems that the locals have this little game they play called “Lets kidnap the businessman”. Nice huh? I am not sure how important I was to my company and if they would pay for me to even call home from my hotel, much less pay kidnappers to obtain yours truly. I am reminded of a little video a friend of mine made with all of his friends. An American redneck was kidnapped and only fed beans by his captors. His flatulence caused the not-so-terrorists to pass out, thus allowing Larry the Cable Guy to escape unscathed. We actually had Super Soakers as our weapons. I am sure it would have subtle differences. Yeah, subtle. 

     I decided I would take the chance and go anyway. I went to my doctors’ office and got about 6 shots to make sure I didn’t catch one of many sicknesses listed on the CDC website. I also was told by people that went before me i shouldn’t eat food outside of the hotel or “American” restaurants. Not a problem since, if you know me at all, I eat like a ten year old. SpaghettiO’s and Lucky Charms anyone?

     I arrived in the middle of the night after almost 25 hours on planes and waiting in airports. The Philippines are 13 hours behind us (maybe ahead of us, who really cares) so I would be working in the middle of the night, which would be a first for me. At the time I was newly married to #2, one month into wedded bliss, and worked 8 to 5 (or more like 8:45 to 4ish, but who was watching the clock? No one, which is why I was working an abbreviated schedule. Don’t judge me bitches!)

     So on my first day(night, whatever it was) I walked across to eat at the “mall” I use quotes because to call it a mall is an affront on every shopping center in the United States. I decided to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe. I know, I know, but I remind you of the short attention span…I eat like a child. I walked in and there was no one there except me and the staff. I mean no one.

    I was seated and ordered pretty quickly. Not much of a surprise on the menu. Same as here I assume. As I was sitting there the hostess walked towards me but stopped a few feet away. She had an old school cordless phone with a metal antenna extended out of the top and was looking at me and talking at the same time. I felt a little violated by the way she was looking me over to be honest. I couldn’t imagine why she was checking me out other than I am 6 foot 2 inches and every other person there tops out at about 5 foot 4 inches. They all look at me like we look at Shaq. Freak City!

    She pulls the phone away from her ear and walks over to my table. “I am sorry to bother you sir, but you have a phone call” and she extends the giant cordless with the kickstand to me. “I don’t know a single person in your country except you so I am sure there must be a mistake”, I said. She said she was sorry again, very polite these Filipino people I must say, and walked away. My burger arrived and it seems they don’t get well done correct in the Philippines’ either, but the red onion was ice cold and the fries were fresh and hot. AWESOMENESS!!!!!

    As I began to eat the hostess with the mostest  (not you this time, Shanna) returned and stopped at the same spot as before. She had the phone in hand again and seemed to be having a discussion about me once again. She looked me up and down at least twice, head to toe, and in the back of my mind I was thinking that this must be some kind of sneaky ployfor her to meet me in the hopes I would marry her and take her back to the states with me. (nice run on sentence stupid!!) As it turned out, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

     She lowers the phone, walking towards me telling me how sorry she is to bother me again. In my head I hear the bad 80’s porn anthem BROWNCHICKENBROWNCOW (come on…I cant be the only one that thinks that is funny as hell) and I am searching for the right way to let her down without causing her too much disappointment. She says the person on the phone described me exactly. “Short pants (I was wearing cargo shorts), blue shirt with the swoop (Nike t-shirt), trainers with no socks (sneakers)…It is for you”, and she extends the phone to me with a slightly awkward smile on her adorable face. I take the phone and say hello with that questionmark sound at the end of it and am surprised there is an actual person there.

    “Hey, its your best Filipino friend” the mystery man said, “How are you doing?”

    “I am fine but I don’t have any Filipino friends, so you must be mistaken. Who is this again? What was your name?”

     “Come on buddy, you know me.”

     I reply that I do not indeed know him and begin to hand the phone back to the awaiting hostess when he shouts “HOLDONHOLDONHOLDON….I saw you walk into the restaurant all by yourself. That is no way to enjoy dinner. I’ll send a nice girl, good time, no problem…” My jaw hit the floor. I was getting a call from a Pilipino pimp and he was going to send me a good girl. Imaging my luck, as that was exactly what I DIDN’T want.      

    I returned the phone to the hostess after telling Guido the killer pimp (shout out to Joey Pants from Risky Business. You were the man when you had hair, Yo!) I was not at all interested in having a fine dining experience with a lady of the night, much less an overpriced burger and fries. And how would I have explained it on my expense report? Entertainment meals? Community Relations? She was mortified (or maybe she was the one that called him and set me up for all I know, but this didn’t occur to me till just now, over 7 years later) and left me to my burger. I picked it up and as I was taking a bite I remembered how detailed the description and I panicked. I pivoted my head to the right as fast as I could to catch the “spotter” but saw nothing. Same result when I turned left. I then remembered the warning of businessmen being kidnapped and freaked out. Being a “husky” man and not sure if my company would pay for 2 meals, I took my food and left in a hurry.

     As I got to the escalator I felt the hairs on my neck stand on end and turned around just as a woman approached and came down to stand next to me. She was gorgeous and had a body that looked like it was sculpted out of granite. The dress she wore was made of a material I can only describe as like the top of an old school tube sock. It was almost terry cloth like but was sheer at the same time. Let’s just say I knew she was happy to see me, if you smelllalallala(insert pause here) what the Rock(insert another pause here…wait, wait. release) is cookin’. She said hello and held out her hand for me to shake. I didn’t take her hand and turned away in honest to god embarrassment. I could see everything this poor girl, and I am pretty sure she was still a girl, had to offer. I stepped down to the next lower stair and she followed.  

     I ran through a bunch of thoughts at warp speed. I was married and had been for almost 2 months. I have the 2 rule theory (don’t lie and don’t cheat), but was it cheating with “hired help” in a foreign country? What if she is the set-up person for the kidnapping crew? Hard for her to hide a weapon in that dress but never count out the resourcefulness of a woman with a goal in mind. What if it was part of some sting operation? Did I even know the word for innocent in any of the 120 to 175 languages spoken in the Philippines?  What if they don’t shave their arm pits over here, to say nothing of their junk? Oh yeah, and she was probably underage. That too.

     We got near the bottom level of the mall and the escalator stops just in front of the doors to the “mall”. Did I mention the armed military searching everyone except the Americans as they enter the mall? There is a no gun, no drug, no bs law over there and they do not play. It is not like the New York gun law that only the bad guys have guns. If you have a gun or drugs and are caught, you go straight to Hell. Well, maybe just jail but I cant imagine that there is much difference. The “lady” saw the MP’s and started to run/walk/skip up the escalator and was out of my life forever. I went straight to my hotel and thought that was the end of my “lady” stories. I was wrong.

    Shout out to MT at work. He was the main one that said I should blog my adventures on the wild side. What up MT? Nice to see you at work today brah!

    



“Make a pledge to yourself…”

     A friend (name redacted by his request) sent me a text during the Super Bowl. “Make a pledge to yourself tom that you will totally forget about women for a month. After that month you can reevaluate”.(exactly as sent…typos and all)

     Why would I want to take time off when things are going sooo friggin well? I mean, I went 15 years without thinking about any kind of sex with any woman at all, but that was my first marriage (badumppum). Shout out to the first ex Mrs. Cole…Whatup Byotch???? Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week. Don’t forget to tip your weight staff.

     But seriously, since becoming single over a year ago I have had some pretty varied results with the opposite sex. I have been in lust a few times, had a one night (day) stand and also dumped and been dumped. It has been fun, not fun, hurtful, silly, awesome and horrible and sometimes a combination of all. It has never been boring. I hear Aerosmith in my head, “Life’s a journey, not a destination. And you just can’t tell, just what tomorrow will bring”.

     Contrary to what (name redacted by his request) thinks, I am not looking for a relationship. What I really want is someone to do things with. Walk in the park. Go to the zoo. Drink an overpriced beverage at Seattle based caffeinated beverage establishment. Go to the movies. I also am looking for someone that will let me put just the tip in every once in a while. Is that too much to ask America?????

     I have been in long term relationships for more of my life than I have not. Thank you for that ex #1 & 2. It was not all bad and i wish us all well. Well maybe #2 more than #1…but that is a story for another day. A long time from now. When the restraining order has lapsed or the gag order is no longer in place..but I digress…I really want to have someone that knows when to go home, and isnt afraid to tell me when it is time for me to go too.

     I know she exists. I know people that have a similar model, it just seems when I go looking, all those are out of stock. “Can I get a raincheck for the hot brunette, with or without aftermarket upgrades, that can cook, like Harry Potter almost as much as I do (last movie comes out soon…sadness creeping in), can talk about that she REALLY thinks and can be ok with me not always having an answer to “What are you thinking”?”  I’m thinking about the putting the tip in again…don’t start crying now, you asked sweetheart.

     So, can I go a month without thinking about a woman? Probably not. I have a person I work with that I have been attracted to for 7 months now. I have a name for her, MM, but I am holding off writing her story because she might change her mind and decide to go out with me. There is someone I would like to see and be seen with that has no idea I am interested in her (she might be too hot) and there is also someone I met online and went to dinner with a week ago. I could say that I like the way things are, but I don’t lie. They could be better…just let me put the tip in….just the tip.

No Coupon Moment today. I don’t want her to get real mad at me. A little mad, ok. She deserves it for my birthday fiasco, but at the end of the day Coupon is a good person. To quote Judd Nelson from the Breakfast Club, “demented and sad, but social”.

Leather Face

Since I was moving to a new town, not to mention another state, I joined an online dating site. If you have never done it, I highly recommend not doing it. There is no rejection like that of an online dating service.  For every 20 emails you send out, you will be lucky to get one response, and it is usually a computer generated “no thank you” with an inspiration “don’t be discouraged” message that is sure to lift your spirits. NOT! (Hey Borat, that is what the NOT joke is supposed to sound like)

There are a bunch of questions they ask to determine your “personality” and to help set your “preferences”.  I PREFER BRUNETTES!!! End of my list. No further questions necessary. Well, maybe there needs to be additional criteria in the narrowing process. 2 arms, 2 legs, hair and most of their fingers. What? A man has to have standards.

So, when I moved to Jacksonville, one of the first dates I went on was with Leather Face (LF). She was so tan she made Snookie look like an albino. She was almost as orange as an Oompa Loompa, and on the day of our “One & Done” date, she was laying out in the sun early in the morning. Why someone would want their skin to be cured like a slice of Beef Jerky is beyond me, but Florida seems to be a hotbed of skin related disorders waiting to happen. Before I go much further, I should explain the “One & Done”.

The “One & Done” is my term for a dating experience that lasts one day, and thankfully, no longer. In my experience, they are usually not something that both participants are in agreement on. I can tell you that most of mine have ended because I chose to take the blue pill (to quote Morpheus “This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill — the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill — you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.”) There were a few times where the blue pill was forced upon me, but LF was not one of those cases.

I met her online and we spoke for a week or so before I finally decided I wanted to see if there was anything beyond our ability to hold each others interest in a half hour phone conversation or a text/email exchange. I am not good with foreshadowing, so I will tell you right now, there wasn’t.

I picked the restaurant, Mellow Mushroom in Tinseltown, as it is a hold over from my Atlanta days and has the best tasting crust outside of New York. I arrived early, as is my norm, and began the waiting game. Every time the door opened, I (trying to look casual) slowly glanced at the door. She was a little late, a Bozo no-no as far as I am concerned. Timeliness is next to (fill in the deity of your preference)-liness. I was on my second drink refill by the time she arrived and had to pee something awful.

She was shorter than I had guessed and definitely more orange than anyone should be on this planet. To make matters worse, I think she was wearing a light tan pair of shorts and the same color shirt. She gave me a quick hug and looked at the menu for about 2 seconds when the waiter, tired of watching my swivel-head routine, arrived to take her drink order. She kind of hemmed and hawed and I realized she wanted a beer and saw I was drinking iced tea. We had the awkward, “I am not much of a drinker, but feel free” conversation on the phone, and I really don’t mind dating someone that drinks. I’m not a 12 stepper, it simply isn’t my thing. I don’t have much of a filter on my mouth sober. Imagine if I was a few Captain and Coke’s in. Not a pretty picture I assure you. I told her to order what she wanted and she ordered some type of local microbrew with a shark on the label and a name from a SNL skit from the 70’s.

We ate and made pleasant conversation. I had not yet decided which pill I would accept, so we decided to go see a movie next door. If you have never been to a movie on a first date, as with the online dating, I highly recommend not doing it. Think about it people..what are you told before every movie…SHHHHHHHHHH and turn off your cell phone. How are you supposed to learn more than you did at lunch sitting next to someone in relative silence for 2 hours? Well, go see a stupid Adam Sandler movie of course.

Now I like Adam Sandler as much as the next guy, but GROWN UPS was one of his worst movies by far. Don’t flame me, I am entitled to my opinion and since you are in my house (or blog) my opinion carries more weight than yours does. Live with it! If you thought it was funny maybe you should date LF, because she told me after she had not laughed so much in years. WOW!!!!

I blue-pilled and sent the “I really appreciated meeting you but….” email that always follows the “One & Done” and called it a date.

AND NOW FOR TODAYS COUPON MOMENT:
Coupon has a germ thing. One of the first times she came over my apartment, as soon as we walked in the door she said, “Go wash your hands”. I looked at her like I smelt a fart and tried to raise one eye brow Dwayne” The Rock” Johnson style. She said it again and when I asked why she told me that there are germs all over the place and that I had touched the bar on the shopping cart at Publix. I’m pretty sure I looked her straight in the eyes and licked my hands. Tip of the iceberg people.

Why Why Why????

So why am I writing this? The smart ass in me says because I can. The real reason is my stories have been entertaining my friends, family and coworkers for years. I have been told for years I should try stand-up comedy. No thank you. 
Being an avid reader, I always thought I would one day write an amazing novel. In my arrogance, in response to the question from Inside The Actors Studio, “If there is a God, what would you like to hear him say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates” my response was, “I liked your first book. The second was a little long, but the movie was cast well”. That’s right; I want the creator of everything to review my book favorably. How arrogant is that? Also, thinking I am somewhat of a funny person, I decided if not me, who? If not now, when? If not ….well, you get the idea.
I can only write this from my perspective. The names have been changed to protect me from the not-so-innocent. I have to credit the idea of nicknames for some of the women I dated to one of my coworkers. He decided on “Coupon” for one due to her propensity to never go anywhere or do anything without a coupon. I can assure you that there will be a number of entries chronicling my Coupon experiences. I am sure those that have heard some of my Coupon stories are hoping that there are more. Trust and believe there are more.
I will warn those that read this ahead of time…If we dated, are friends, were married, or even met in any way, shape or form, you might be mentioned in future writings. I will do everything in my power to follow one of the two rules I have for myself in life…Never tell a lie. The stories I will tell are being told from my perspective. I might remember them a little different that you do and I might change certain pieces of the story to make them funnier. If you think any of the stories is about you, i.e. Coupon, and you would like to have your side told, feel free to email me your side of the story and I will post your version. I do not promise to not comment about your version, but I will post your email exactly as written, so be careful what you hope for.
I would also like to say upfront, I don’t have an ax to grind with anyone.  Good, bad or indifferent, these are the stories as I remember them. If you know me at all, you should know that, in most cases, I don’t hold a grudge. I need to talk about whatever happened, think it through, and then it is done for me as far as I am concerned. I am sure I will come out looking like an ass more often than not. I am prepared for the assault from my readers (especially those named Tim from my MeetUp.com group. Tim has shown that I am one of his favorite targets and I wish I had saved some of his text messages in regards to some of my failed dates. I am sure there will be a Timmy blog or two before too long.)
These will not be in any sort of order. I can’t promise that I even remember all the stories right now, so a chronological listing of the “Steve Rogers Saga” is not possible.  I hope you enjoy my stories, but if you don’t, in the famous words of Jay-Z, “He who does not feel me is not real to me, therefore he does not exist. So, poof… vamoose, son of a bitch.”




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