So... I've met several young guns in the last couple weeks... here's the same quote: "Wow... you are one HOT, older lady!" Hmmmm... that's very nice, but don't you think there's one too many adjectives in that compliment? I do even if it's true. But three times in two weeks with cutie 20 something year olds? I do think that's a full moon crazy theme!
And then there's the very nice older gentleman at the Hilton bar last night that invited me to the hot tub so I could have the benefits of my stay here. Really? I'm purty sure that is NOT on the Hilton Honors web site... Just sayin'!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Playing Catch Up!
So sorry that I haven’t been blogging for the past several months, but now I’m back! So… here’s a synopsis of some of the best of the past few adventures:
• Getting a pedicure one day and had a Colombian lady in stilettos doing my toes. We started chatting about cosmetic surgery and she decides to show me the results of some of her personal cosmetic surgery experiences by flipping out “the girls” during my pedi. It was important for her to let me know about her lack of scarring. That’s lovely… she may not be scarred, but now I certainly am. Yoy! Booby prize of the day!
• And then I met the “Marlboro Man”. Seriously. He’s smoking Marlboros in my favorite dive bar. My group sidles up to the bar and sits by him. He’s tall, dark and definitely good looking with one of those awesome mustaches (God… I love facial hair!) We start chatting it up and sharing our most fabulous information. My friends are getting a little antsy… for them, you can only hear Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” and Janis Joplin so many times, plus it is a little smoky in there (thanks, of course, to my Marlboro man’s contributions), so they are ready to head out. The Marlboro man asks for my card. I hand it over and then he asks if he can kiss me. Absolutely! So we kiss… twice. Until my friends grab my arm and pull me out of the place. Nice kiss(es) though, so I can’t wait until he calls. Um yah… not so much. However, I’ve seen him twice since then (both back at the scene of the original crime) and he just stares at me across the bar. I always say hi and he seems happy to see me but I haven’t heard the phone ring (of fire) yet. Oh well… at least I got to kiss a “smokin’” guy for once!
• And then we met the swingers. If you live that lifestyle, it’s all good. I am not judging, however, this is so not who I am. But it is interesting how a middle aged married man (with his wife) is out on a Sunday night drinking Red Bull, wearing a silver braided necklace, an 80’s groovy hair cut and is flirting with me. Really? His wife is lovely, but obviously they have other plans for me. Oh no … the only swinging I like to do is on the playground or around the dance floor.
• And then I get to California. My first night at the hotel lounge and I order a glass of wine and some dinner, chatting it up with the nice bartender guy. An older guy walks in, sits by me and we start talking. Seems like a nice enough guy. He’s from Denver and does construction. I’m not terribly attracted to this guy, but we’re having a decent conversation… until. He then decides to tell me how he’s married, but in a “dead relationship” (he has no idea that he just spoke the kiss of death for himself.) He decides that I shouldn’t sleep alone that night and how he wants to really get to know my curves on a personal basis. Yoy… apparently it’s been awhile since he’s used any lines. And when I decline, he let me know how wealthy he is and that he can fly me anywhere in the world to meet up with him. Oh man… that is one “baggage fee” that I am not going to pay.
Next? Stay tuned! I'm livin' my own California Adventure for the next couple of months!
• Getting a pedicure one day and had a Colombian lady in stilettos doing my toes. We started chatting about cosmetic surgery and she decides to show me the results of some of her personal cosmetic surgery experiences by flipping out “the girls” during my pedi. It was important for her to let me know about her lack of scarring. That’s lovely… she may not be scarred, but now I certainly am. Yoy! Booby prize of the day!
• And then I met the “Marlboro Man”. Seriously. He’s smoking Marlboros in my favorite dive bar. My group sidles up to the bar and sits by him. He’s tall, dark and definitely good looking with one of those awesome mustaches (God… I love facial hair!) We start chatting it up and sharing our most fabulous information. My friends are getting a little antsy… for them, you can only hear Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” and Janis Joplin so many times, plus it is a little smoky in there (thanks, of course, to my Marlboro man’s contributions), so they are ready to head out. The Marlboro man asks for my card. I hand it over and then he asks if he can kiss me. Absolutely! So we kiss… twice. Until my friends grab my arm and pull me out of the place. Nice kiss(es) though, so I can’t wait until he calls. Um yah… not so much. However, I’ve seen him twice since then (both back at the scene of the original crime) and he just stares at me across the bar. I always say hi and he seems happy to see me but I haven’t heard the phone ring (of fire) yet. Oh well… at least I got to kiss a “smokin’” guy for once!
• And then we met the swingers. If you live that lifestyle, it’s all good. I am not judging, however, this is so not who I am. But it is interesting how a middle aged married man (with his wife) is out on a Sunday night drinking Red Bull, wearing a silver braided necklace, an 80’s groovy hair cut and is flirting with me. Really? His wife is lovely, but obviously they have other plans for me. Oh no … the only swinging I like to do is on the playground or around the dance floor.
• And then I get to California. My first night at the hotel lounge and I order a glass of wine and some dinner, chatting it up with the nice bartender guy. An older guy walks in, sits by me and we start talking. Seems like a nice enough guy. He’s from Denver and does construction. I’m not terribly attracted to this guy, but we’re having a decent conversation… until. He then decides to tell me how he’s married, but in a “dead relationship” (he has no idea that he just spoke the kiss of death for himself.) He decides that I shouldn’t sleep alone that night and how he wants to really get to know my curves on a personal basis. Yoy… apparently it’s been awhile since he’s used any lines. And when I decline, he let me know how wealthy he is and that he can fly me anywhere in the world to meet up with him. Oh man… that is one “baggage fee” that I am not going to pay.
Next? Stay tuned! I'm livin' my own California Adventure for the next couple of months!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Life is Hee-LARRY-ous!
Isn't it funny how life teaches you little lessons each day? Just when you think you have a "type" that you're looking for, you're wrong. The only thing in life that has a for sure type is blood. The rest of us just may be surprised who we end up being attracted to.
So, I'm in my hometown visiting my mom who is recovering from an illness and I make plans to go out with some of my wonderful friends from home (seriously, best peeps on the planet.)
We attend a party and then decide to finish up the night at the local bowling alley bar. As we walk in, my friends grab a table and I go up to the bar to order a cocktail. Sitting there is my soon-to-be new friend LARRY.
He is an older, attractive gentleman who invites me to sit down and chat with him. I tell my friends that I'll be over in a minute and Larry and I begin to have a kumbaya moment.
He tells me that he's visiting his sister and is from Indiana, a retired CEO of some kind of manufacturing business. He then tells me that he's 68. Wow... really? Come on now, people... I'm usually the cougar, but on this night I am definitely the cub.
He's very charming and begins to give me lots of nice compliments about my hair and how I dress. So, ya'know I'm a bit smitten now with this silver tongued, silver haired gent. He then proceeds to tell me that I remind him so much of his third wife, whom he married twice. Allrighty then...
He asks for my number, which I give him because as I told my friends later... after they wadded up and threw wet bar napkins at me from across the room all night... I would definitely go out to dinner with him once.
He'll probably never call and that's okay... but as I sat down to TYPE this entry into the blog I realized what an interesting lesson I had learned about what I think I want in a guy looks-wise and that just may be all wrong for me. So, from now on I'm going to open my eyes a little wider and look at my choices differently.
You just never know when another Hee-LARRY-ous moment is on the horizon and I don't want to miss that opportunity!
So, I'm in my hometown visiting my mom who is recovering from an illness and I make plans to go out with some of my wonderful friends from home (seriously, best peeps on the planet.)
We attend a party and then decide to finish up the night at the local bowling alley bar. As we walk in, my friends grab a table and I go up to the bar to order a cocktail. Sitting there is my soon-to-be new friend LARRY.
He is an older, attractive gentleman who invites me to sit down and chat with him. I tell my friends that I'll be over in a minute and Larry and I begin to have a kumbaya moment.
He tells me that he's visiting his sister and is from Indiana, a retired CEO of some kind of manufacturing business. He then tells me that he's 68. Wow... really? Come on now, people... I'm usually the cougar, but on this night I am definitely the cub.
He's very charming and begins to give me lots of nice compliments about my hair and how I dress. So, ya'know I'm a bit smitten now with this silver tongued, silver haired gent. He then proceeds to tell me that I remind him so much of his third wife, whom he married twice. Allrighty then...
He asks for my number, which I give him because as I told my friends later... after they wadded up and threw wet bar napkins at me from across the room all night... I would definitely go out to dinner with him once.
He'll probably never call and that's okay... but as I sat down to TYPE this entry into the blog I realized what an interesting lesson I had learned about what I think I want in a guy looks-wise and that just may be all wrong for me. So, from now on I'm going to open my eyes a little wider and look at my choices differently.
You just never know when another Hee-LARRY-ous moment is on the horizon and I don't want to miss that opportunity!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Dispensing the Freakiness!
My brother says that the reason I meet all these unique individuals is because I break the cardinal rule every time. The cardinal rule, you ask? Make no eye contact. Come on. That’s not me. I have to look people in the eyes. And so the strange encounters continue…
Even with my mom in the hospital, these folks find me. So, I’m hanging out in her room in ICU and I finish the book I’m reading. I decide to head on down to the gift shop on the first floor to buy a new book. I grab my wallet and hop on over to the elevator. While I’m standing there waiting, I push the hand sanitizer dispenser and it is obviously a very generous dispenser since it places a ginormous glob of the stuff into my palm. Blech.
As I’m standing there rubbing and rubbing to try to get this stuff to dry into my skin, a guy walks up beside me. I make quick conversation just saying, “Don’t you hate it when these machines give you way too much of this stuff. It’s kinda disgusting.” Right then the elevator door opens and I begin to step into the elevator and I realize this guy has stepped up right behind me… with his chest touching my back and he leans down and whispers in my ear, “When you get that much, that’s when you rub all over each other.” And then the elevator door closes and he and I are the only ones in it. Yikes.
So I try to keep it light and breezy and I say, “Really? Hand sanitizer, huh? That’s interesting.”
He switches topics and invites me to step outside for a smoke break with him. I say, “No thanks. I don’t smoke.” He is not fazed. He says, “So? You can still keep me company.”
I thank him but tell him I’m on a mission, so no thanks. The elevator doors open and I get out of there in a hurry, briskly walking through the lobby thinking that I’m shaking him. Not so much. He’s right beside me keeping time. I’m thinking, “For the love of God, freaky deaky…”
Right then I look up and standing in front of me is one of my good friends from high school. I’m pretty sure I’ve never been so happy to see him. So, I rush up and give him a big hug and finally my hand sanitation engineer gets the hint. Whew. Super Stevie to the rescue!
I’ll give the other guy a hand for trying though… yoy!
So, leaving the hospital I needed to make a stop at WalMart to buy some things for my mom’s house. As I’m zipping my cart through the aisles picking up household articles, I also am drawn to the lipstick aisle (Of course. Any of you who really know me, know that I am a lipstick nutbar.) So I’m going through the lipstick/makeup aisle and there’s a lady in one of those scooters (aka electric wheelchair type situation) and she’s blocking part of the already somewhat narrow aisle. There’s also an older gentleman with a cart walking towards me. So I stop to let him pass by. He thanks me and I say, “No worries” and keep on my way. I made eye contact though, so that will be my kiss of death in a moment.
As I’m getting to the end of the aisle, I go to turn right and here comes that same gentleman. He would have had to whip his cart around and walked quickly to catch up with me. I look a little surprised to see him. So he says, “You look like Liza Minelli.” Really? Never heard that one before and I tell him so. He continues, “You have beautiful hair. I just love it.” I thank him for his kind words and scurry along my way. I tell my friends about this little encounter and someone asks me what he looks like. Oh, he’s about 6 feet tall, 68 years old wearing bib overalls. My guess is that he’s a snow bird from Indiana and is a retired farmer. I’m from an ag family, so I mean no disrespect. I just don’t want to be his little garden ho(e). Just sayin’…
Even with my mom in the hospital, these folks find me. So, I’m hanging out in her room in ICU and I finish the book I’m reading. I decide to head on down to the gift shop on the first floor to buy a new book. I grab my wallet and hop on over to the elevator. While I’m standing there waiting, I push the hand sanitizer dispenser and it is obviously a very generous dispenser since it places a ginormous glob of the stuff into my palm. Blech.
As I’m standing there rubbing and rubbing to try to get this stuff to dry into my skin, a guy walks up beside me. I make quick conversation just saying, “Don’t you hate it when these machines give you way too much of this stuff. It’s kinda disgusting.” Right then the elevator door opens and I begin to step into the elevator and I realize this guy has stepped up right behind me… with his chest touching my back and he leans down and whispers in my ear, “When you get that much, that’s when you rub all over each other.” And then the elevator door closes and he and I are the only ones in it. Yikes.
So I try to keep it light and breezy and I say, “Really? Hand sanitizer, huh? That’s interesting.”
He switches topics and invites me to step outside for a smoke break with him. I say, “No thanks. I don’t smoke.” He is not fazed. He says, “So? You can still keep me company.”
I thank him but tell him I’m on a mission, so no thanks. The elevator doors open and I get out of there in a hurry, briskly walking through the lobby thinking that I’m shaking him. Not so much. He’s right beside me keeping time. I’m thinking, “For the love of God, freaky deaky…”
Right then I look up and standing in front of me is one of my good friends from high school. I’m pretty sure I’ve never been so happy to see him. So, I rush up and give him a big hug and finally my hand sanitation engineer gets the hint. Whew. Super Stevie to the rescue!
I’ll give the other guy a hand for trying though… yoy!
So, leaving the hospital I needed to make a stop at WalMart to buy some things for my mom’s house. As I’m zipping my cart through the aisles picking up household articles, I also am drawn to the lipstick aisle (Of course. Any of you who really know me, know that I am a lipstick nutbar.) So I’m going through the lipstick/makeup aisle and there’s a lady in one of those scooters (aka electric wheelchair type situation) and she’s blocking part of the already somewhat narrow aisle. There’s also an older gentleman with a cart walking towards me. So I stop to let him pass by. He thanks me and I say, “No worries” and keep on my way. I made eye contact though, so that will be my kiss of death in a moment.
As I’m getting to the end of the aisle, I go to turn right and here comes that same gentleman. He would have had to whip his cart around and walked quickly to catch up with me. I look a little surprised to see him. So he says, “You look like Liza Minelli.” Really? Never heard that one before and I tell him so. He continues, “You have beautiful hair. I just love it.” I thank him for his kind words and scurry along my way. I tell my friends about this little encounter and someone asks me what he looks like. Oh, he’s about 6 feet tall, 68 years old wearing bib overalls. My guess is that he’s a snow bird from Indiana and is a retired farmer. I’m from an ag family, so I mean no disrespect. I just don’t want to be his little garden ho(e). Just sayin’…
Saturday, January 2, 2010
"I Just Have One Question For You!"
Loaded statement, right? You have no idea. So I was online about 3 months ago and had corresponded a few times with a guy and he had asked for my number. He seemed very nice and somewhat normal (does that even exist? Not in my world, apparently!), so I gave it to him.
So... I took my profile off of the site and he still continues to call me and we chat and he keeps asking me out for coffee. Some kind of intuition though kept me from confirming or if I did agree, I would contact him and try to reschedule. Something just wasn't right. But by golly... he is persistent. Even though I did mention several times how I didn't really think we had much in common. Did not phase him. We still have NEVER met (that will be important in a minute!)
The holidays come and I'm spending mine with my mom in the ICU. He calls during that time and of course, I'm all caught up in my mom's situation and send his call to voice mail. And he leaves a message. Something to the effect of, "Hey Gert! It's ____. Just called to see how your holidays were and I have just one question for you. So, please call me back."
I'm thinking... he needs tickets to something or needs resume help or whatever I usually get asked for. I just kind of dismiss it because I know he'll call back.
He waits a couple of hours and texts me. Here's the text: "So I just have one question for you. Will you please have sex with me?"
Seriously? I have just one question for you... "WTF?"
Moving on again... period. No questions asked. Stay tuned.
So... I took my profile off of the site and he still continues to call me and we chat and he keeps asking me out for coffee. Some kind of intuition though kept me from confirming or if I did agree, I would contact him and try to reschedule. Something just wasn't right. But by golly... he is persistent. Even though I did mention several times how I didn't really think we had much in common. Did not phase him. We still have NEVER met (that will be important in a minute!)
The holidays come and I'm spending mine with my mom in the ICU. He calls during that time and of course, I'm all caught up in my mom's situation and send his call to voice mail. And he leaves a message. Something to the effect of, "Hey Gert! It's ____. Just called to see how your holidays were and I have just one question for you. So, please call me back."
I'm thinking... he needs tickets to something or needs resume help or whatever I usually get asked for. I just kind of dismiss it because I know he'll call back.
He waits a couple of hours and texts me. Here's the text: "So I just have one question for you. Will you please have sex with me?"
Seriously? I have just one question for you... "WTF?"
Moving on again... period. No questions asked. Stay tuned.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Wingman Commentary!
Wing a Ding Ding!
According to answers.com, the definition of a wingman is, “A pilot whose plane is positioned behind and outside the leader in a formation of flying aircraft.” From the Online Slang Dictionary, the definition of a wingman is, “A best friend, side kick, partner in crime. Usually the guy who takes one for the team and talks you up to someone you’re interested in.”
Now, THAT’s the kind of wingman I’m talking about… although, a guy who is a pilot and still my partner in crime could be kinda perfect. Just sayin’…
However, that is not how my wingman situation went the other night. A group of friends walked into an establishment and one of my supposed wingmen walked up to a group of guys we didn’t know, one of whom was quite the “Gert kind of guy!” So I marched my little behind right on over there and quickly introduced myself. We were having a nice conversation and flirting and there was even a little arm touching by both of us to both of us. Nice.
When all of a sudden my wingman became a serious other kind of animal with wings, one of the rooster persuasion perhaps? He came and stood right between and busted up the situation. When I asked him, “Um, what the H-E-double toothpicks are you doing?” He replied that I would probably get a disease from him. Really? These days with the swine flu, I could probably get a disease from just about anyone.
Now I realize he was just being protective, but it’s been awhile since I’ve actually been attracted to someone in an establishment who certainly didn’t look or act freakish, so I cry fowl on this one. I’m not too chicken to be bold and make a move.
All I’m saying is next time you leave the hen house, be careful whom you select as your wingman. It should be someone that actually wants to help you find some new poultry. Not someone who blocks your way through the barn yard.
Cock-a-doodle-doo! It’s time to fly…
According to answers.com, the definition of a wingman is, “A pilot whose plane is positioned behind and outside the leader in a formation of flying aircraft.” From the Online Slang Dictionary, the definition of a wingman is, “A best friend, side kick, partner in crime. Usually the guy who takes one for the team and talks you up to someone you’re interested in.”
Now, THAT’s the kind of wingman I’m talking about… although, a guy who is a pilot and still my partner in crime could be kinda perfect. Just sayin’…
However, that is not how my wingman situation went the other night. A group of friends walked into an establishment and one of my supposed wingmen walked up to a group of guys we didn’t know, one of whom was quite the “Gert kind of guy!” So I marched my little behind right on over there and quickly introduced myself. We were having a nice conversation and flirting and there was even a little arm touching by both of us to both of us. Nice.
When all of a sudden my wingman became a serious other kind of animal with wings, one of the rooster persuasion perhaps? He came and stood right between and busted up the situation. When I asked him, “Um, what the H-E-double toothpicks are you doing?” He replied that I would probably get a disease from him. Really? These days with the swine flu, I could probably get a disease from just about anyone.
Now I realize he was just being protective, but it’s been awhile since I’ve actually been attracted to someone in an establishment who certainly didn’t look or act freakish, so I cry fowl on this one. I’m not too chicken to be bold and make a move.
All I’m saying is next time you leave the hen house, be careful whom you select as your wingman. It should be someone that actually wants to help you find some new poultry. Not someone who blocks your way through the barn yard.
Cock-a-doodle-doo! It’s time to fly…
Monday, November 23, 2009
JERRY-atric
So one of my dearest friends was in town and I decided to take him out to some of my favorite haunts and let him get a feel for the night life here. We had a lovely dinner with friends and then he and I set off on our adventure. We walk into my favorite establishment and see two empty seats at the bar. So, we belly up and order.
We’re scoping out the scene and just getting acclimated. I send him to the juke box to play Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” (a must-hear in this smoky venue.) While he’s gone, I’m looking around and realize that the guy to my immediate left is staring at me. I introduce myself and he says his name is “Jerry.” I say, “Well hello, Jerry!” He immediately asks me if my friend and I are married, to which I honestly respond “No.”
He proceeds to engage both of us in some harmless chatter, but everyone must be quiet while I pay homage to Johnny Cash and sing out loud (it would be almost sacrilegious to do otherwise.) Then, Jerry wastes no time in launching back into conversation and telling us about his golf game, wife, kids, etc. All just easy bar room banter.
Just about that time, my friend has to visit the little boy’s room. No worries… I feel totally safe with this harmless older gentleman with the big fat gold band on his left hand. That was, until he starts rubbing all up and down the side of me. Um, what?
I look at him and I ask, “What in the hell are you doing?” and he responds with, “Well you are just so fun and funny… I thought you might like to have some fun with me?” Really? I don’t think so, Jerry.
It’s time to go now… so my friend and I leave. Jerry needs to go home too… to his wife and kids and his golf game. It’s not easy to make a hole-in-one with me.
Next?
We’re scoping out the scene and just getting acclimated. I send him to the juke box to play Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” (a must-hear in this smoky venue.) While he’s gone, I’m looking around and realize that the guy to my immediate left is staring at me. I introduce myself and he says his name is “Jerry.” I say, “Well hello, Jerry!” He immediately asks me if my friend and I are married, to which I honestly respond “No.”
He proceeds to engage both of us in some harmless chatter, but everyone must be quiet while I pay homage to Johnny Cash and sing out loud (it would be almost sacrilegious to do otherwise.) Then, Jerry wastes no time in launching back into conversation and telling us about his golf game, wife, kids, etc. All just easy bar room banter.
Just about that time, my friend has to visit the little boy’s room. No worries… I feel totally safe with this harmless older gentleman with the big fat gold band on his left hand. That was, until he starts rubbing all up and down the side of me. Um, what?
I look at him and I ask, “What in the hell are you doing?” and he responds with, “Well you are just so fun and funny… I thought you might like to have some fun with me?” Really? I don’t think so, Jerry.
It’s time to go now… so my friend and I leave. Jerry needs to go home too… to his wife and kids and his golf game. It’s not easy to make a hole-in-one with me.
Next?
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