Category Archives: image distortion

Dammit Steve…

It occurred to me last night that in my blog mission of sharing my online dating experiences, I’ve neglected to share much of any of my real-life, more traditional, experiences of meeting people since I’ve moved to the city of U-turns and Vanity Plates.  I’m focused if nothing, but I realize my amazing focus leaves out a great deal of interesting experience.  I did share of the near violation of my no-no square, and  hot-as-HELL bartender, and drunken groping surfer dude, but other than that, nothing of this variety.  And ironically, I’ve had almost as many real-life occasions meeting men as online; not anything overly intriguing or exciting as to dating potential, noooo….but certainly interesting experiences in their own right. 

Neighborhood bar

I was blessed (or cursed?) location-wise, to live within walking distance of a fun little restaurant/bar.  It’s not a tacky little dive (although I confess I ADORE tacky little dive bars!!).  It has a nice restaurant I’ve not yet eaten in and above the restaurant is a lovely massive deck with a bar/lounge/club-like atmosphere. It has twinkle lights  scattered all over (ahhh the ambiance), huge fans and misters everywhere for the hottest nights (so cozy n comfortable  ), and a divine view of the Sin City skyline

Ambiance
Romantic

 (geesh so romantic!).  The crowd is a little on the young side, but overall there is a decent mix of crazy college kids through some middle age patrons… all the way to a coupe of old geezer “regulars” (one of whom believes every lady over the age of 30 who comes in the place, is a “cougar-for-Jared”).   Yeah, Jared is an undoubtedly (OMG!) hot bartender, but I’m still undecided on the cougar thing unless of course it’s for my precious Hottie McHotstuff over in Denver.  I do, however, like to be around people, socialize, and have a few drinks close to home occasionally…so I have been to this little “neighborhood place” three or four times since moving here. 

My last visit to the place got very interesting.  Old geezer (cougars-for-Jared guy) was there and Jared was bartending (bonus!).  I sat one of the little high-top tables alone(obviously).  I don’t like this much and can’t wait to make friends in the area, but there I was on this night.  Enter Steve (I’m sure no relation to my big-single-mother-blog-fan “Steve“). 

Steve is a fairly handsome guy around my age who on this evening asks to sit next to me.  I’m sitting alone in the midst of yet another frustrating text-servation with The Lingerer, so I’m more than happy for company, both to get my head away from the desperately annoying texts from Lingerer and to just have some company while sitting there.  He sits.  We commence to have a great discussion about various topics like careers, moving to Vegas, relationships, kids, education, politics, etc, etc…   It’s nice. I’m almost digging this guy.  Seriously. I. Am. Right. There. Hovering on the maybe this guy’s pretty cool ledge.  He’s attractive and can hold an interesting and intelligent conversation…  I’m definitely in for further investigation here.  I even moved tables with Steve at his suggestion that we move somewhere on the deck with 

is this better?

an unobstructed and more “romantic” view of the city. He bought me three (which is one too many for me!) drinks while we chatted.  Nice guy Steve.  As I’m slowly drinking my third glass of wine, Steve asks me if I’d like to go to the Rush concert with him Saturday night.  I’m a huge fan of 70’s music and this is a fabulous offer!  In fact, I’d heard of the concert on the radio just that very day and had wished I could go see them…  Wondering, how did this gift fall right in my lap?  I agreed and we exchanged numbers.  Then Steve offers to walk me to my car.  I had a bad experience with that just the last time I was at this place, so I’m hesitant.  It’s a catch-22 though because I do like having someone walk me to my car and especially here, as the deck (and thus, the majority of the people) is up so high, the parking lot is rather isolated from anyone’s view. 

Okay, this isn’t like the last time though.  I’ve actually been talking with this guy for several hours and we’ve even exchanged numbers.  Totally different scenario from Mr. Attempted Violation.  So, I gratefully accept his respectful, chivalrous offer. 

Once we get to my car, Steve goes in for a kiss.  

Okay…nice…

 I’m an admitted kissing tramp, so this doesn’t really upset of offend me whatsoever under these circumstances.  I’m in for a smooch or two…OH! Yeah!  And BONUS…he’s not at all a bad kisser!  He’s actually pretty good… 

I go to get in my car and he goes for another kiss…  Umm…okay…two is still acceptable.  I’m still in for that…  Yeah! I turn to get in my car a second time and he pulls me by my waist back toward him, turning me to snatch another kiss.  Yeah so, at this point I’m losing some of my kissing-a-stranger-gusto and am a tad more reluctant, but alright, I suppose one more is okay… but then I’m done with this for tonight pal, okay?  No, I didn’t SAY that out loud or anything, but I felt confident that my kiss itself demonstrated much less enthusiasm, as well as a definite …sigh… okay, but hurry up and get this over with feel to it. 

GOSH!  I’m definitely a very touch-feely kinda person.  Very!  But if I even think or sense for a split second that I even remotely detect any reluctance for me to touch, fondle, kiss, or otherwise demonstrate physical affection another person, I am OUT immediately.  I cease instantly.  I shudder at the mere notion of anyone ever “suffering through” my touch or kiss. 

Do ALL men need a copy?!

 Umm…  Do men NOT have ANY sensory perception AT ALL?  Does their entire sense of awareness come merely from within themselves, with ZERO comprehension of the body language of others?  Because while I was thinking, Okay, I don’t want to be rude and out and out reject you…so get this one over with and I’ll just see you later…  Steve, on the other hand, must have thought kiss number three was a big, blaring, flashing,  GREEN light; screaming “GO STEVE! GOOOO STEVE! IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY!” 

On kiss number three, in spite of my reluctance to even 

a fair likeness of what I was hiding my “smokin hot bod” under…

 participate, Steve goes in for the grope/feel!  He slides his hands around my waist, under my top (!), and says, “Wow (Kay)! You’re hiding a hot little body under that big maternity shirt…  You’re smoking under there!” 

yup...that's me Steve...

Uhhh yeah..I’m smokin’…smokin’ PISSED OFF is what I am pal….so get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Skin.  Now!   A few kisses does NOT mean it’s okay or you’re otherwise invited to GROPE a woman… Seriously…Why Steve...?  WHY?? 

I drove home rather irritated at Steve because I had really wanted to go to that concert. Subsequently, I did not take Steve’s call on Saturday morning and haven’t even yet bothered to listen to the message he left either.  

 Dammit Steve!

Rejected by the Illusionist

Wow….so not sure what to think of this one!

Ummm...I did NOT do *this*!!

Finally got going last night…headed to the place, found it without getting lost (YAY!), and met Mr. PhD.  Yeah, I was about two hours later than I had agreed to meet(you <blush>  know exactly what I was doing), but I did let him know I was going to be later than expected.  He was going with friends anyway, so I don’t feel this was totally rude.    It’s not as if he was sitting alone at a dinner table for two or waiting on a bar stool alone, looking like the proverbial guy who got stood up!

I’m looking all around for him…. A tall (looking about 6’ or maybe taller even in his pictures), dark haired, attractive, professional-looking man.  Finally he finds me…

What??  As he comes toward me, I’m thinking, “Is that him?  (squinting my eyes a little)…Hmmm….objects in sight must appear smaller than they really are” because he was shorter than I.  I’m nearly 5’8” and I’d swear he was 5’7” or maybe a half an inch taller than that, but certainly not “tall” by any standards! 

how did he DO this??!!

Now, he never actually said he was tall or the height I thought.  Those were my guesses assumptions based on his photos and I really have to wonder just how that kind of height-“appearance” was fabricated so well in a photo?!  What kind of lens does his camera have that actually makes someone my height appear over 6 foot?   He must be a magician because that’s a fabulously executed optical illusion he has going on in those pictures!!  I’m not implying that he was dishonest.  He wasn’t.  Okay wait….  I just double-checked his profile and he does, in fact, list his height as 5’10”.   Yup…he was dishonest.  Not that 5’10” is claiming the height I imagined him to be from his pictures, but there’s no way in hell this guy’s even fully hitting 5’8”…  And I’d know this because I know exactly how tall I am and he was my height, at best

I do try not to discriminate on height.  I mean, it is what it is and this isn’t something any of us can dictate for ourselves like big muscles or big hair.  Some of the greatest guys I’ve known were around my height.  However, I am a tall-ish girl.  And while I’ve never been into the pretty boys,  overly-done Ken-types, or even have a huge insistence on a certain level of looks (I really do strongly consider the personality qualities of a person and that factors in BIG on how attractive I find them), I do have a height requirement.  Right or wrong, good or bad, I just do.  It’s probably the only physical appearance-trait which I lean toward being somewhat inflexible.  A guy doesn’t have to be a Greek God of physical perfection to me…  he doesn’t have to have a fantastic physique…he doesn’t have to be considered drop-dead-gorgeous by any standards of the definition. He can carry some extra pounds, be a little skinny, have a big nose, or too-tiny lips, whatever…   He does, however, have to be at least slightly taller than me.  It’s my only physical trait deal-breaker and I’ve just learned to accept that that’s where my teeny bit of possibly shallow side rears its ugly head.

Was this the trick he used?

So, needless to say, I wasn’t overly impressed upon meeting him, as he wasn’t at all what he implied or appeared to be in his pictures, although he was attractive(even in spite of the Affliction shirt he was sporting – uhh….just not my kind of “look” on a guy really).  Anyway, I made it right at the end of the concert (sorry…I was lollygagging and mustering up the desire to go out at all).  He introduced me to his friend and we stood there for the last two songs and made a few little attempts at conversation in spite of the noise.  Not impressive conversationally either, but I was giving him this one since conversation under these circumstances was difficult and would be for anyone.

The three of us start walking out of the concert and it’s pretty quiet among us.  I mentioned that I’d seen a local band a few weeks ago who was really fun, asking him if he’d ever seen them.  He said he had a long time ago and then asked me who I went to that with.  I told the truth:  Iwent with another person from the dating site that I’d met him on.  (Should I have been less than forthright about this?) …And that was pretty much the end of all conversation until as we got to the exit doors, he says he’s parked in the garage and asks where I am parked.  I’m in the lot.  So he says, well I’m going home.  I’m tired… I’ve been up since 7 and worked all day, but I’d like to hang out with you again sometime.

I realize I was quite late, but what the heck is this?  We aren’t even going to sit down somewhere together and chat?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m already pretty certain I’m not interested in dating him, so it’s not about that…  I just can’t imagine bothering with meeting up with someone at all if you’re not going to actually spend even a few minutes chatting one-on-one…  I mean we’re already there, right?

I suppose this guy must have not been at all enthused about my appearance either, as I can honestly say this was the shortest “date” I’ve ever experienced!  And in spite of the fact that I wasn’t really attracted to him “like that”, no one has ever…and I mean ever…dismissed me so quickly and easily, and especially not after I actually made the effort to go and meet the guy!!  Well, my pride was wounded by this.  He asked if I wanted him to walk me to my car…  No, I really am fine on my own…after all, I entered all on my own.  And he went one way and I the other. 

I couldn’t help but feeling I was a total disappointment.  What?  Do I not look like my pictures?  Most people I’ve met like this say almost instantly, “Ahhh you’re even more attractive in person!”  Is this just a line to mask their massive disappointment?  I’ve never questioned this before, but this was a first for me…and really felt awkward!! ..and not in a good way.  I suppose I should just be grateful that he dismissed me so quickly since I wasn’t interested in a dating-thing with him at all, but I still would have taken a few minutes to just kind of get to know him and see if we had any friendship-possibilities!  Was it disappointment in me?  Or was my being two hours late just so rude and totally unacceptable to him even under these “casually meeting up” circumstances?  What????!!

I drove home feeling very lonely, rejected, and wondering all sorts of things…  Of course I have selected pictures to post that I like the best…?  Well, and one just ridiculously stupid picture to openly demonstrate my (truly goofy and nerdy) personality and not necessarily my “most flattering” look…  Did I appear shorter to him in my pictures or something?   And maybe he was equally as disappointed in my height?

Wow…what was this about?

Anyway, so I’m on my way home feeling just crappy and like the whole thing was just a huge waste of time really… and I decide to stop in at a cute little neighborhood bar just down the street from my house to cry in my drink, wallow in my self-questioning…to try to salvage something of my Friday night.  I have never gone to a bar all by myself, so this was an experience in itself! 

Suffice to say, the evening did turn out to be interesting after all…more to come on that…