sm62704's Journal: Ask Slashdot: Women

I'm a fool when it comes to women.

I was in NitWhit's last Tuesday when a short, heavy but attractive blonde who put me in mind of Kirstee Allee (is that how it's spelled?) walked by and sat down next to some guy. I'm not normally attracted to heavy women, and don't know why I noticed her, except maybe for the bright red coat. Mrs. Clause? She looked good despite the weight, though.

There were only two or three women in the bar, not counting the bartender, and they were all with men. So I finished my beer and walked.

My car's driver window had been broken Sunday, and it threatened rain. I'd put a trash bag on it and walked the mile to NitWhit's, got a beer, then walked north and stopped at JW's for a second brew. Mike was in there with Danny, and Mike bought me a second and a third, and maybe a fourth beer. I think. I wound up at George Rank's, not a long walk. Danny walked up there with me, and we shot the shit for a while... and the woman in the red coat came in and sat next to us at the bar. Danny knew her; her name was Karen. Danny left, I chatted with Karen for a while, and when it got a little later started talking to friends and acquaintences trying to bum a ride home.

I took Wednesday afternoon off to get my window fixed. I'd made a lunch date for that day with my friend Julie. Julie's got a boyfriend, of course. She's in love with him, of course. She says he's about to dump her. Yeah, sure, riiiiight.....

Julie's my ideal - very thin, pretty face, nice smile, kind of crazy but a good kind of crazy, you know?

I'm a sucker for skinny women. Hell, I'm a sucker for any women. Uh, I said that already, didn't I?

She was the cheapest date I've ever taken out. We went to Top Cat's, and she wouldn't even eat, saying she had terrible stomach pains. We then went to get my window fixed, and I gave her a ride to work. Later I picked her up at work and took her back to Nit Whit's for a couple of drinks, and she let me buy her a hamburger.

Wednesday is great at Nit Whit's - dollar burgers, dollar fries, buck-fifty domestic bottles. Cheap date! ...with somebody else's girl friend.

I actually did have a girl friend last spring. Fifty years old, toothless, looks sixty-five, alcoholic on medication for mental illness. Lives with some guy. You want to get laid? Find a drunken crazy bitch. The sober sane ones want nothing to do with nerds; at least, they want nothing to do with me.

It rained all day Thursday, and froze on the car. I scraped my windows a bunch of times that day. I didn't even go bar-hopping and woman-chasing (like I ever catch any) after work and logged on to slashdot instead.

Friday morning I woke up to what sounded like an alarm clock in somebody else's apartment. It was my clock, not very loud. "Hmm" I thought, "my clock's about dead, I guess I need a new one." I turned on the coffeemaker and it didn't work at all. Only when I tried to turn the light on did I realize the power was out. We'd had an ice storm. I got dressed to go to find some coffee, which I am completely worthless without, and it was bitterly cold outside, with six to eight inches of snow on top of an inch of ice. I couldn't get my car door open, so I left a message on my boss' voice mail saying I'd be late if I was in at all.

I finally got inside the car about 10:00. I got to work, and they said the office was closed because of the power outage (even though the power had come back on) and sent me home. Free vacation day!

That night I saw Karen in Rank's again. We struck up a conversation; she had thought I was carless and probably unlicensed as well and most likely unemployed. I told her the sad but hilarious (to everyone but me) story of the new stolen car used as a murder weapon and its subsequent broken window, which I got repaired Wednesday. Oh, wait, you haven't heard that story?

I'd let this woman named "Odie" (yes, the Garfield dog, and the name fit) who'd been evicted stay at my apartment for a few days, let her eat my food and drink my beer and Pepsi and let her use my computer. This was strictly out of the goodness of my heart; I wasn't even getting laid. Not even so much as a blow job.

Yes, I'm a fool; at least, when it comes to women. But I already said that, didn't I?

She stole my spare car keys and traded them for crack. I discovered the car missing the next morning. Odie had left with her friend (and, unknown to me, my keys) the night before. The next morning when I discovered my car missing I called the cops, who took a report about noon. Six o'clock that night after much beer and whiskey (what would you do if YOUR new car you'd only made one payment on got stolen?) the cops called and said they had my car back. I took a cab to the car, and the cop told me that the young woman they found with the car - not Odie but some other woman - had used it to try and kill her parents. This girl's mother was in the hospital with two broken legs. My driver window was smashed, there was glass all over the inside of the car, a mark on the front bumper (leg marks?) and a big scratch on the hood, along with some miscelaneous dings.

The cop didn't even notice I was shitfaced drunk. I brushed the glass shards out of the seat and drove away as he did some paperwork, picked Julie up and did some more drinking. She had some weed, bless her heart!

Any way, to get back to what I was talking about, it turned out that Karen was a realtor, and I'm still looking for a house. I stopped thinking of her as a potential date and started thinking of real estate. We exchanged phone numbers, she gave me her business card and I started to leave; it was about 9:00 and kareoke starts then. I can't handle kareoke unless I'm way too drunk to drive, and didn't want to hire a cab. Besides, there was a live band at NitWhit's.

As I was walking out, the old girl friend I hadn't seen in five months that I mentioned earlier walked in with her daughter. Chris didn't see me (she was drunk again, of course) but Angel did, and said "hi, Steve". Chris turned around, her eyes got big and she smiled ear to ear. "Steve!!!" She grabbed me and started kissing; the last thing she had said to me five months earlier was "I love you... oh no I shouldn't have said that."

If you use Viagra but don't need it, your girlfriend will fall in love with you. Especially if you're well endowed and know where the clitoris is. Trust me on that, it's worth every overpriced penny. That shit is magic!

They dragged me to their table, and I explained that I absolutely didn't do kareoke unless I was having trouble walking from too many shots. Chris grabbed me in a fond embrace again; Karen watched with... well, I couldn't read the look on her face. I walked over to say a second goodbye to my new friend Karen. "New girl friend?" she asked. "No, an old one" I answered. The bartender asked me why I'd kissed drunken Chris. Dave, the owner, answered first: "because he can, silly."

Chris called me half an hour later; "come get me." So I did.

I was horny. I hadn't had any since JoAnne, the crack whore (not Odie). You want to get laid? Find a crack whore. Twenty bucks, even less. Just be sure you have a condom.

Chris was even drunker than when I'd left Rank's. Before we left Nit Whit's she was falling down drunk. Obnoxiously drunk. So obnoxiously drunk I had a hard time keeping it up even with Viagra. That pissed me off; it was my second to last one, and they're not cheap.

It was better the next morning before she had a chance to start drinking again; no Viagra needed, and I wasn't going to waste my last one any way. I was a bit miffed; that had been my second to last magic pill.

As my coffee was brewing, she asked if she could have a beer. I said "no." She said "I'm drinking one anyway" and opened one.

Chris makes Danny look like a teetotaler, and AA has disowned him he drinks so much. I took her home.

Karen was supposed to call at 9:00 with houses to look at. By 10:30 I called her. She called back an hour later, and said she had to help her friend with a carpet that had gotten ruined from the storm. She'd get back to me later.

I went to NitWhit's for a beer, then JW's for another beer, and Julie called wanting a ride to work. I gave her the ride.

By the time Karen called it was evening. I met her at Rank's and she had some listings which we would look at Sunday morning.

My old drunken girl friend Chris tried to come in; the bartender sent her away saying she'd been barred. The bartender started to apologize to me for barring Chris, but I told her it was no problem and thanked her for it. It only took one night to remember why I hadn't minded Chris not calling me back. I mean, besides the fact that she's living with some guy who really, really, really hates my guts.

Julie called again, wanting a ride home from work. I'm wondering why she wasn't asking her boyfriend, the guy she says she's in love with, the guy she says is on the verge of dumping her, for a ride. But I didn't say anything; I just went and picked her up at work. I took her to Walgreens to pick up a prescription, and loaned her some (more) money for the cheapest one of the three drugs they had prescribed at the hospital, the one for pain. She'd gone to the emergency room, and they'd told her that her bladder was infected. The antibiotics were outrageously priced. God damned drug companies and their bought and paid for American government stooges!

We went back to my apartment for an egg salad sandwich, and I took her home. I saw Danny at Rank's, and he got me high, bless him! I went home and went to bed.

Sunday morning Karen called, and we went looking at overpriced dumps. One house had a $60,000 price tag, I wouldn't have given much more than twenty five for it. I mean, the last house I had cost 69, and it was two stories, full basement, fancy woodwork, bay windows, deacon's bench, fireplace, three bedrooms, two baths (with a spare toilet in the basement), garage... damn but I miss my house. Damn the bank that forclosed on it!

There was one house I liked, but it, too cost more than it was likely worth. Karen said the seller would go down to 49 if we could close quickly; I was thinking more like 45. But I agreed. We went to NitWhit's and she bought me a couple of beers, bless her!

She said it's a buyer's market. Looks to me like instead of beuing a buyer's market nobody can sell any houses because they're all way overpriced! The house I paid sixty nine for in 2000, the one the bank took, is probably going for half a million now.

She left, and I went to JW's and had a beer or two with Mike. I'd missed his radio show, so he gave me a tape of it which I promised I'd put on CD for him. I drove to Rank's, and they weren't even open yet. I went home for a sandwich.

The phone rang again; it was Meg.

Ah, Meg. I cannot describe this woman. Picture the most beautiful creature you've ever seen, double the beauty, and she's even better looking than that. And she has a wonderful personality to match.

I'd marry her in a heartbeat. Sooner, even. Of course, she only sees me as a friend; I'd asked her out for a dinner date and she made some lame excuse. So we're just friends.

Damn it!

Her car was immobilized from the ice and snow, but she wanted to get out of the house. I went and got her and we went to Rank's. She had a sob story about how lonely she'd been at Thanksgiving and wished a friend had invited her for dinner. But crap, she'd turned me down for dinner at a restaraunt, why would I possibly think she'd go to my family's for dinner?

I got home about 11:30. I wasn't worth a damn the next day at work. Julie called about the time my boss came to work. Julie wanted a ride to her new job, so I took my morning break and drove to her apartment.

Now, like I said, Julie is pretty much my ideal - very thin, pretty face, nice smile. I'd been pursuing her, waiting until the promised dumping from her lover.

With Meg still on my mind, Julie wasn't the least bit attractive. Damn. It's hard for a guy to be friends with a woman like Meg.

So the two questions I have are, first, how can a guy like me get a drop-dead gorgeous woman like Meg to see me as anything but "just a friend?"

The second question is, after three women in one weekend and actually getting laid by one of them, does this mean I have to turn in my nerd license?