Showing posts with label Blue Balls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blue Balls. Show all posts

Monday, November 5, 2012

Taking Back Sunday

Nugs: As the token single girl here at Snark & Sex, I'm also the only one of us that's still maneuvering through the amusing, eluding and often embarrassing world of first-dating. Here in LA this has become increasingly difficult; maybe due to the fact that not everyone will be as impressed as I am at my ability to numerically recite all the doctors from Doctor Who (backwards and forwards!) and say "no" in Klingon (although armed with this so-called skill I seriously doubt that I should be saying "no" to anyone).


When I lived in New York, I wouldn't call myself a dating expert, of course, or all your wedding invitations would be in the mail. I did, however, have a few serious relationships, and some less important (but just as fun) ones in between. Of course, I also had a weakness for bartenders and guys in bands. You live, you learn- supposedly.

Ginny: I used to be all about the band dudes and bartenders. What was I thinking? I probably wasn't thinking....

Nugs: There's like a hierachy of Guys We Shouldn't Sleep With But Totally Do Anyway. Those are like, Numbers 1 and 2.

Anyway, then I moved to LA, and meeting a decent guy has not been easy to accomplish- most don't get past the "getting my number" phase, if that. I think in the few years that I've lived here, off and on, I've been on maybe four dates, including one that was so bad that I almost converted so I could join a convent. This, BTW, is a common complaint with most of the girls that I've met here as well.

Tits: She goes on and on about how guys in LA are just the worst and I keep saying they can't be any worse than guys everywhere else. So can any else living in LA validate Nug's experiences that LA guys are the worst?

Nugs: ****crickets****

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I was at my friends' band's show, and the guy next to me started a conversation. He was cute, and tall, had good taste in music and we knew some of the same people. We stepped outside so we could actually speak to each other without screaming, and when I mentioned that my other friend was playing the next night, he asked for my number. "Yeah, this'll happen," I thought, but I gave it to him anyway.

Ginny: You go girl!

Nugs: Yeah, not so fast with those accolades, there.

The next day I was with my dad, watching the Jets' humiliating loss to the Pats (quiet, Ginny), when I got a text from Champagne Supernova, so named because if I could predict the future, I would have foreseen the 75 drinks he consumed in an hour long period.

Ginny: LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLONUGSLOVESTOMBRADY

Yes, let's PLEASE bring this up as often as possible.

Ginny: *spikes ball Gronk style* YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!

Nugs: Go a little to the left; that's my artery. How did those Red Sox do, BTW?

He asked me what time my friends were going on, and I told him 10:30, but I was going in early to eat. He didn't take that bait, but we texted on and off randomly through the rest of the day. I thought there was a chance this might actually occur, but it's me, so it would most likely be hilarious/horrific.

Ginny: Ok why would he not be like "oh do you want to have dinner together then?" Not a deal breaker but more of a thing to ponder about.

Nugs: Right? Definitely what I was thinking.

I arrived at the venue around 9:45, so I texted Champagne Supernova to let him I know I was there, and he should let me know when he arrived so I could get him in. I stood there by myself like a jackass and it was incredibly awkward until a few of my friends showed up around 10:15 and we grabbed a table. At exactly 10:30 Champagne Supernova told me he was 20 minutes away, which would have been more annoying if I weren't with a group of people already, who as it turned out were having a party that night and kept trying to convince me to leave with them. I finally called Champagne Supernova at 11:30 and asked how far away he was, and he was "parking." An hour late. This is usually a huge deal killer with me, considering he hadn't even thought it appropriate to give me a heads up.

Tits: So wait, his date was to go to a concert you were already going to because its your friend's band? Thats not a date that's him conveniently showing up. -10 for being a lazy ass.

-110 for showing up an hour late. UNACCEPTABLE. I don't even like IMac to show up 15 minutes late. I'm all "bitch my time is just as important as yours and I don't have time to wait around on your inconsiderate ass."


Ginny: Showing up late on the first date is very bad. And it doesn't seem like he really cared.

Nugs: He also texted me asking if I smoke weed, because he was going to pick some up. Look, I don't give a shit whether you do or you don't, and especially in LA, the majority that do is astronomically high. It just seemed like bad form to ask that over text when we hadn't even gone out yet, and considering he was already late, DON'T MAKE ANOTHER STOP. Also, where did he assume we were going to partake in this activity, because seeing as how this was Date #1, was I just going to come over to his house?




Ginny: Dude have some class and tone down the grass (ok that was lame I'm sorry)

Nugs: I actually laughed at that.


Tits: -50 because What the Hell was he thinking? But +50 to the bear because he's awesome.

Nugs: Strongly agree. Up top.

Anyway, he finally arrived, and since by this time the band was totally over, we decided to hit up a really awesome bar that I was familiar with and was close to my apartment, so I could run if necessary. We took a seat, and I noticed that he didn't open any doors for me, pull out my chair, or whatever. I'm totally capable of doing these things for myself, of course, but it would have been nice, especially since he was an hour late. He also spent the entire dinner on his phone, Facebooking, and barely made any eye contact. It's like, if you're not even going to try, why should I bother? My friends' party started to seem pretty appealing.

Ginny: !!!!!!!!!!!!! (*$&$(&%*)$%) *$#()%)U !!!!!!!!! just NO. So rude.

Tits: And this is when I would have been like I have to go... wash my hair/ get a root canal/reload my pistol so that when the zombie invasion comes I have a reason to murder you (don't judge you know if the zombie invasion happened there are some people who you would kill and be all "Wut they weren't a zombie just a horrible person? Same dif.).



We sat down, and Champagne Supernova informed me that he originally wasn't going to come because he was tired. "So like, you were just going to stand me up?" "No, I was going to tell you. I'm not a dick." Yeah, I'll be the judge of that. He also let me know that at the last minute he did decide to shower, and when he told me he was "20 minutes away" he was actually still at his house because he had just woken up.


Tits: WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST WALK OUT? OR GET AN "EMERGENCY CALL?"

Nugs: Well, technically I did. Read on.

We talked a little about work, and he seemed genuinely interested in my job. He had mentioned before that he too worked in film, so I believed that we had that in common, until he dropped the bomb that he was really a "musician first."

FUCKFUCKFUCKGODDAMMITFUCK. Why do they always find me? What is there, like, a convention or something? Is my picture on a wall, like a dartboard? Do they draw my name out of a guitar case, and whoever finds it gets me for the year?

Ginny: Well maybe he plays the recorder or something so he thinks he's a musician. At least this is what I'm picturing in my head. I played the recorder in 3rd grade so yea I'm a pretty bad ass musician.

Nugs: Technically I took a week's worth of piano lessons when I was eight. So, bonus?

We both ordered drinks (my second of the night; his fifth, apparently- Ginny, should we set up a Man Date with Liquid Lunch?), an app, and split a dessert. Our waiter was cool- he was fast, efficient, made great recommendations and was able to hold a witty conversation. Despite the fact that Champagne Supernova was a tool, some of the things he said were kind of funny, and I was able to talk to him. Also, during our meal, my friends were blowing up my phone, still trying to get me to come over, and I do have to admit that I was very tempted- especially when Champagne Supernova suggested that I eat more because I "needed more meat on me."

Dude. NEVER comment on a girl's weight. NEVER EVER EVER.

Tits: -10000 I mean I tell Nugs to eat a fucking pie all the time cause bitch is skinny, but when a guy does it, its just rude and obnoxious.

Nugs: That's because you and I are superclose and you can get away with that shit. Also sometimes you choose not to even validate my ridiculous Jew neuroses with an answer. But yeah, on a first date? Bitch, please.

Let's see how many posts we can use this pic in.
Also, not really a fan of pie. But red velvet cake? I'll take two, KTHNX.

Also Also- is anyone keeping track of how far into the negative numbers this guy has slipped at this point? Because I am really bad at math and at this point I just want to say -NO.

Then the bill came, and I politely extracted my Visa from its cave in my purse. I always do this, even though I am a firm believer in the policy that a guy always pays on the first date. It's not only a test to see how much longer the evening will progress, but also to show him that if the relationship will push forward, that yes, I am capable of providing for myself. It usually works in my favor, so what I did not expect is a) the cost of my simple vodka and pineapple ($14!!!) and b) for Champagne Supernova to enthusiastically agree ("you want to split? Cool!"). When he asked the waiter for separate checks, the look he got was great. It was obvious we were on a date, and the waiter stared at him like, "Seriously?"

Ginny: FAIL. Every guy should know that a girl is only doing this to be nice. We don't expect to pay on the first date. I don't expect a guy to pay for every date but the first is a must.


Tits: Please tell me you got the waiters number? Because I already like him better.

Nugs: DAMN, I wish I'd thought of that. You are so smart.

He also turned out to be an incredibly shitty tipper, shelling out 10% and insisting that this is the norm. I have done everything in the service industry (bar/waitstaff/hostess/etc) and some of my best friends are/were restaurant workers. This, to me, is the ultimate dealbreaker. You, sir, are an asshole.

Tits: I want his name, number, address and a headshot so that I can make sure to publicly humiliate him on the interwebz for being a horrible person.

Nugs: I think I actually might still have his business card somewhere. Check your inbox.

I decided to make him drop me off at the grocery store a block from my apartment- better to be safe than stalked. I told him I was meeting one of my girls who was in trouble (believable, since my phone had been ringing all night), and he replied, "Wow, that's really co-dependent." So he doesn't care about anybody else besides himself? Score! In reality I had excused myself to go to the bathroom at the bar and told my friends to pick me up at my place in half an hour.

Tits: There are just no words left for this guy. When did it become co-dependent to help a friend in trouble? No thats called being a good person and not a completely selfish, narcissistic, self-absorbed asshole who is too good for people.

Nugs: A few days later I was on Facebook with an old hookup, recounting the events that had gone down. This dude was no prize either- the most gentlemanly thing he ever did was move my hair out of the way- but even he was like, "Wow. What a dick."

And there you have it. The charming account of my terrible date. At least I can say that it's funny.

Tits: He really is the worst date ever. Props for not throwing him in front of a bus and calling it an accident, because I might have.

Ginny: Well you gave it a shot and that's all you can do right? This guy will be alone forever if this is how he acts. ENJOY!

Nugs: In case you guys are wondering, (you're not), I'm still wretchedly single.


Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Debate Class: To Do Or Not To Do

Nugs: Every so often at Snark & Sex we realize that while we're clearly experts in the dating field, we actually don't have all the answers to everything. So when I came across a minor dilemma last week I emailed the girls and they suggested I turn this into our first debate post of the blog. So if you will, read this story of my wild night out and choose your own adventure.

Lily: I've heard this story already, and Nugs knows most of what I would say ...

Nugs: So I have this friend. I'll name her Kitty due to her love of animals and also because... well, because it's a euphemism, all right? Here at Snark & Sex we don't make much with the subtlety.

I love Kitty because we don't get to hang out much (she works ALL THE TIME), but when we do, she's fucking insane so you never know what you're going to get- kind of like Forrest Gump with a bigger IQ and exponentially better jugs.



It's entirely possible that every time we go out I could wake up the next morning in another part of the country with a tattoo and an adopted litter of baby marmosets. She's also really hot so guys practically shove me into oncoming traffic just to hear her explain the website she just finished programming. Yup, she's really smart, too. So, yeah, awkward.

Anyway, this weekend Kitty and I were hanging with a few of my friends (and four puppies!) when I sensed that one of them was totally checking her out. This guy has all the stealth of a Gestapo regime so I excused myself to get a drink so they could "talk" and get to know each other better. I was gone for maybe seven minutes when I turned around and noticed that the two of them had gotten past that stage pretty quickly. I mean, I was half in the bag at this point but I know what I saw, and that, my friends, was well into PG-13. Possibly R, if I plied either of them with more beer (not hard to do, honestly).

Kitty realized I was standing near the wet bar (hahahaha), disentangled herself and assured me that she was not going to hump some random dude, even if they did have a common thread (me). She had actually told him that repeatedly, and although disappointed, Grabby Hands seemed fine with it.

Then she returned to her prior location and I, being an excellent wingwoman, sought out a new spot where the puppies were and waited for Kitty to come up for air.


Nine years later, after the owners of the house had dropped hints that it was time for everyone to haul ass back to their own place of residence, Kitty finally decided to stick her tongue back in her own mouth. As everyone was packing up their shit, Grabby Hands came over to the group and announced that he would need a ride back to Hollywood in the morning. "I can do it," Kitty piped up. "You can come over to my place."

I was pretty surprised. A) I was staying on her couch that night so I really didn't appreciate this and B) as crazy as she was, I knew for a fact that Kitty never slept with guys that she just met. Like, ever. I was shocked that it seemed like she had completely changed her policy.

So we got to her apartment, and the two of them immediately retired to her bedroom. Mercifully, her walls are pretty thick, so the only sound I heard all night was the hum of her incredibly loud AC unit. By the time I woke up, Grabby Hands was gone, and Kitty was doing work on her desktop, having dropped him off at the bus.

"Good morning," she greeted me. "Or, afternoon."

 "Uh, I bet."

"Oh, we didn't have sex. He wanted to, but you know I don't do that."

"So, what did you guys do all night? Compare POG collections?"



"What the hell is that?" (Did I mention that Kitty is 25? Fuck, am I older than everybody?)

Lily: Wait! I'm 25, and I HAD Pogs!

Ginny: Let's bring Pogs back!

Nugs: I agree. I also noticed that you guys are ignoring the "am I old" question. Moving on.

"Seriously, what happened last night?"

Kitty went on to recount the events that took place behind her closed door- she and Grabby Hands "talked" for a while, "made out" for an even longer while, and then, true to her promise, she dropped him off at the bus station. "I think he's pissed at me though. You know, because I didn't sleep with him."

Lily: As most guys would be. As if they're OWED sex. *eye roll*

Nugs: I didn't want to say anything, since I was supposed to be on her side, but, well, yeah. If you literally spend hours attached to another human being through your saliva glands and then invite them to spend the night with you, one naturally expects it to go in a certain direction, even if you've been insisting in the negative the entire time.

Don't look at me like that- I'm in no way insinuating that Kitty was obligated in any way to do anything that she felt uncomfortable doing. If she said no sex, she meant no sex. However, her actions all night definitely implied otherwise- even I assumed she was ready to get down. I can definitely understand where Grabby Hands was coming from and I can't blame him for being less than enthused the next morning. Essentially, for lack of a better phrase, Kitty acted like a tease.

So what do you guys think? Is there any way this scenario could have played out any differently? Did Grabby Hands have any right to expect anything? Should Kitty have invited him over at all? And do any of you remember any of my '90's toys?

Lily: So a part of me would be say she was being a tease. Playing tonsil hockey all night, inviting him over, and then no sex? Seems like a HUUUUUUUGE let down.

I get her stance on no sex... but still, if you weren't going to have sex with the guy DON'T INVITE HIM OVER. She could have given him a ride and he could have gotten a cab when he was actually closer to his house. But it is entirely possible that she doesn't see it as being "tease-y". Poor guy, he probably left with blue balls.  

Ginny: I have to say that if you don't want to sleep with a guy then don't invite him back and let him sleep in your bed. If she had told him he had to sleep on the couch if he came over then maybe I'd be like, ok, she made it clear. BUT he slept in her bed and they were making out all night so as most guys would, he assumed that maybe there would be sex. 

Also, you were sleeping over so she should have been like, sorry dude I have a guest.

Nugs: Any opinions from you guys, our brilliant and loyal followers? (We haven't come up with a name for you yet) Let us know what you think!
 
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