Babs in Blogland

Last night I met a handsome goodlooking for cocktails.  What?  I’m down but not out!  I’m Babs in Blogland, bitches!

I threw on whatever so as to appear “casually fine” and hopped in my car.  I had been listening to old school jams, so Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling” came on.  I immediately had a flashback to, like, junior high when we sang that song for a concert.  I even remembered some of the dance moves. Then I had a thought- my date probably wasn’t even alive when that song was out!  I should have turned the car around right then and finished watching SYTYCD.

As I sat at the bar looking at the tenderoni, I realized we had absolutely nothing in common.  Don’t get me wrong, he is smart, successful and wise beyond his years.  But aside from the fact that he is hella-sexy and I want li-li-li-li-lick him like a lollipop, we have NOTHING in common.

His ten year plan includes career moves and relocation, while mine includes breastfeeding and montessori schools.  He is by no means husband or fatherofmyunbornchild material.  Still, I have every intention of seeing him again.  How could I not?  He’s fine!

Shit, am I gonna be one of those cougars?  I’m not up for all that botox so I certainly hope not.

Anyway, I am spending the remainder of my 34th year just kickin it, and he fits right nicely into my 6 week plan.  I’ll worry about all that other shit in the fall.

Have you ever dated someone younger than you?

Today, I’d like to talk about pimpin.  There’s Fac.ebook Pimpin, Parking Lot Pimpin and even Pu.blix Pimpin.  I’m no stranger to Pu.blix Pimpin.  I’ve met many a handsome goodlooking while perusing the frozen foods aisle.

Last night I stopped at the store to pick up an avocado, which I’ve taken to eating all by themselves, when I spotted a handsome goodlooking.  I know the game, so when he showed up in line behind me I readied myself for him to make contact.  We both had clearly just left the gym and we were both buying seemingly healthy foods, so I figured that is how he would break the ice.  I mean, hell, if I were a dude that’s what I’d go with.

So he’s putting his stuff on the conveyor belt, when an older gentleman taps him on the shoulder and asks if he can grab a grocery basket.  The guy says sure and hands him one.  Then, for no good damn reason, the older guy starts making conversation.  Asking him if he played ball and where he went to school and whatnot.  The guy was the friendly type and answers a couple of his questions.  And the older guy was smooth.  He was so unassuming that answering his little questions seemed harmless.  I learned about his education, job and background all within a span of 10 seconds.  I kept waiting for him to brush the guy off and turn his attention to me and my spandex pants, but before I knew it the cashier was giving me my total and bagging my fruits and veggies.

As I pulled out my cash, I heard the older guy saying a very familiar line, “have you ever thought about owning your business?”

Son of a bitch!

You mean to tell me I’m being cock blocked by one of those direct marketing people?  It’s bad enough they stop me in Targ.et on my lunch break, but now they are coming between me and my dating life?  I was seriously annoyed as I grabbed my bag and sauntered off.  I didn’t look back as I left the handsome goodlooking there fumbling to find a business card that he clearly didn’t want to hand over. 

That card should have been mine!

Let’s say you have had dealings with an unsavory character.  A con-artist, as it were.  He didn’t take you for too long of a ride, but a ride to be sure.  He has done the same in the past and will continue to do so in the future.

You have hard proof of his misdeeds, as well as another source with more evidence.

Do you go to the police?  Or do you call it a wash and walk away?

What do you think Babs would do?

Last night, Prince Charming and I were supposed to go to dinner.  We were tossing around the idea of where to go when he suggested I invite a couple of my girls to join us.  I had mentioned to him that I wanted him to meet them and he thought last night was as good a night as any.

When I asked CaliSlim and Deuce to join us they were both giddy with excitement.  Like me, they don’t turn down a free meal.  Unfortunately, the rest of the Crew had other plans for the evening and couldn’t join us.  That’s okay, more for us!

We met at Wildfire at Perimeter Mall and had an absolutely delicious dinner.  It was so disturbing funny seeing PC and the girls interacting.  My sweetie was in rare form cracking jokes and making conversation with anyone around us.  At one point, he was doing some old college chant with a table of randoms.  He has truly never met a stranger!

My girls were also in rare form.  Them hoes can be BOUGHT for a cocktail and a trio of filets, let me tell you!  They went from being on Team Babs to Team Prince Charming with one bite of medium-well goodness.  They were high fiving him and telling me I had “finally met my match”.  Whatevs.  Betcha they would have been singing a different tune if we had been at Church’s chicken!

After appetizers, drinks, dinner, drinks, dessert and one final round of drinks we finally pulled ourselves away from the restaurant.  We were there for three and half hours and were the second last table to leave!

When I got home, both my girls sent me the sweetest text messages about how much they loved my guy and how happy they were for me.  And my darling told me how much he enjoyed meeting my girls and how he had such a good time at dinner.

It was, indeed, a great night!

After being gone for five days, I was excited for the return of Prince Charming.  I had planned on relaxing all day until the late afternoon when I would fix myself up and prepare a delicious dinner.  He was driving six hours, so I didn’t want him to do anything but come in and relax.

Sunday morning I received a text from him that said:

Hey sweetie.  I’ll be back around 7pm.  I’d like fried chicken and macaroni and cheese for dinner.

*pause*

Bwahahahahahaha!!!

No this man didn’t just give me his order for dinner!?  I couldn’t even be mad because it was so ridiculous.  Sure, I told him that I would be making him dinner, but I NEVER asked what he wanted.  Besides, I had freshly relaxed and cut hair, I was not filling up the house with the smell of deep fried bird.

I declined his offer for me to fix fried chicken and let him know that we would not have the kind of relationship where I took orders for dinner.  It is my nature to cook things that I know my man likes, but I never ever take orders!  He told me that he is a picky eater so he was just trying to help me out by telling me what he wanted.  I told him that I would make things that I thought he would like, and if I ever made something he didn’t like then I wouldn’t make it again.

In the end, I made a delicious pasta with Italian sausage and garlic bread.  He ate it and said it was really good, but next time I should add a little ground beef.

*blank stare*

Do you cook by request for your man?  Do you ever make things that he doesn’t like?

Saturday night, Deuce and I decided to stop for a cocktail before we headed home.  We went to one of our favorite restaurants and opted to sit at the bar.  Because it was late, there weren’t too many people there.  We easily found seats and ordered our favorite libations.  Sometime after our drinks arrived, but before it had set in enough for me to think I was imaging things, the woman sitting next to me passed me a napkin and told me it was from the guys at the end of the bar.  Deuce and I giggled at the thought that someone was passing notes like we were in foruth grade.

This is what we saw:

The napkin read:  Hello Ladies.  I like you and my friend like your friend.  So can we talk.

I don’t make this stuff up, I tell ya!  The misfits find me wherever I go!

Not that it mattered whatsoever what they looked like, but I had Deuce peek to see what they looked like.  As expected, they looked like Shrek and Donkey, because only an ogre and a jackass would write some shit like that and think they were going to get some play.

We were feeling charitable, and so instead of going the snooty b!tch route, we controlled our gag reflexes and sent back this note:

It read:  Thanks for the note, however we are already spoken for.  But you get points for originality.

As you can see, they returned the note with: Damn ain’t that a b!tch.

I’m not sure what the point of their final retort was, I just knew that at that point I had grown tired of being nice to the misfits.  Deuce and I proceeded to pretend they didn’t exist had had a lovely nightcap.

It’s no secret that I like manly men.  There is nothing better to me than a man that can bring home the bacon and then fix the stove so I can fry it.  It must link back to my childhood.  I grew up in a family of blue collar workers, and I guess they epitomize manliness to me.  I knew without a doubt that my dad and uncles could fix sh!t without giving it a second thought.  Their hands stayed dirty.  Funny, I never really thought about that, but there were absolutely no white collar men in my family.

My long term boyfriend in college was not at all handy around the house and I never felt like he was a protector.  As a result I didn’t really respect him or trust him to handle his business.  The Ex was somewhat handy.  He didn’t automatically know how to fix stuff, but he sure would figure it out.  I respected that.  In fact, I don’t think we ever had to hire someone to fix something.  He got it done.  Must be that Buckeye mentality!

When I was dating (cause you know I’m no longer on the market, lol) I always brought up situations or questions that let me know if the guy was manly or not.  That was truly one of the qualities that was important to me.  I’m not saying the guy has to be able to fix my car if it breaks down on the side of the road, but he should be able to change a flat. 

I need to know that my man can stop a leaky faucet, kill a giant bug and beat some azz if I get harassed walking down the street*.

Ladies, are you attracted to manly men?  What type of manly traits do you prefer your man to have?

*Not really.  I always want my man to walk away.  Nothing is worth being harmed.