So I’m a big fan of Gemma Halliday, especially since she’s so fabulous with the getting out and dating bit. And she always has the funniest stories about the men she meets. And I would think…how come she gets all the crazy guys and ends up with these fabulous stories??? Well, this weekend I think I realized there’s a lot more freaks in the pond than I realized. My little post isn’t quite as funny as hers, and it might even offend you (hell, I’m STILL offended!).

Here’s the set up. I have a friend visiting town and it’s a Friday night. We meet up with two more of my friends for a girls night out. Girls night meaning drinks and dinner at Applebee’s. But we did decide to sit in the bar. Cause we’re wild like that. Anyway, there was a bit of a commotion from a table of guys next to us when we sat down. And before we could even order, things were getting frisky. Well, one–an older mid-thirties guy–stared at us with kind of narrowed and appraising eyes. I thought he was a bit sexy and the quiet type. But another guy made it known he was after me in particular…

He was cute…red hair, fair in complexion, a butt load of tattoos. He was from Texas. How do I know this? Because he kept saying…I’m from Texas. These colors don’t run. I’m thinking, oh okay. He’s proud of being a Texan. All right. He yells out, “What’s your name.” And only wanted to know my name, not my friends. And kept talking about how hot I was. What a great smile I had. He offered to buy me a drink. I was stunned. Flattered. Terrified. But I thought of Gemma and how she can do this flirting thing, and so I’d try too. After prodding from my friends and his, I accepted the drink…and that’s when it went downhill.

:no: :no: :no:

First he yells out loudly, “To Shelli!” as we toast. Then once we pound the shot, he tells me to pull my shirt down a little lower and show him some cleavage. Hmm. Maybe the shot wasn’t a good idea. When his friend (the one cool guy) comes over to talk to my friend and he yells, “Don’t touch Shelli. You stay away from her, she’s mine.” Yikes, really? Okay, I write alpha males and yes they’re fun to fantasize about, but this was overkill. And I managed to muster up a nervous, “Wow, you’re awfully aggressive.” Which only seemed to encourage him more.

When my friends tease him about whether Everything was really bigger in Texas. I got a reply of, “I ain’t saying it’s bigger, but it’s like a soup can around. Honey, I’ll put in extra work with you.” By now I’m blinking in dismay. I shouldn’t have been shocked when he said, “I’ll eat your p*ssy until your grandmother’s face caves in.” (Yes, he REALLY said that) And that’s when my friends and I just started laughing at him.

He starts to get mad then. He comes around to talk to us, trying to get a little touchy feel with me. And here’s where I realize how slow I am (k, the rum and diet coke didn’t help) and how on the ball my friend Emma is. She asks to see his tattoos. Hmm. I’m glancing on with mild curiosity. Yuck. Just a bunch of skulls and clovers. Like everywhere. She starts calling him out on the meaning of his clovers. What? Clovers have a meaning beyond, like, Happy Irish Leprechauns? And he’s starting to get mad. Then he rolls up his sleeve and I saw it. I may not have known the meaning of the other stuff, but I sure as hell knew what a swastika was.

I don’t know why I didn’t see it (yes, I’ve admitted to being naive) he kept talking about how his Texas colors don’t run. Got REALLY pissy when we asked if he was voting for Obama. Didn’t want to acknowledge anyone at the table but me. I’m just not sure what he was thinking. Hitting on the one white girl at a table full of African American/mixed women. Doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do. And he didn’t even know what he was talking about. Emma pointed out the inconsistencies with his tattoos and really chapped his hide when she told him it it’s sad when a black woman knows more about white pride than a wannabe soldier.

My friend also pointed out it was great that he could put aside his beliefs long enough to want to :hump: a girl with Jewish/Native American roots. And I bit back the urge to tell him about my interracial erotic novels. In any case, the three guys took off a few minutes later. I, having had my bubble of naiveness shattered, was angry as all heck. :pow: But my friends just told me to look at the bright side…at least I got hit on and got a free drink.

Hmm. Not quite sure I saw it that way, and I pretty much told the boys to… :fu: . But the one upside, like Gemma, I now had a ’somewhat dating story’ for my blog. Though I know I’d much much much have preferred some kind of pirate. :pirate: Even if this guy would have you know what til my Grandmother’s face caved in….