Turns out I shall be reaping no benefits or prizes for my honest and sincere attempts at being a player in the zone. Yes, it has all been in vain. Ah the irony! Upon examination of my my sexual abacus and the last few ‘equations’ – most have failed to manifest a decent erection, and have had personalities rivaling sawdust.
It’s not fair. (Even Roberto ‘the sexual tape-worm’ could adequately sustain.)
I recently made friends with a separated, Italian woman in her early 60’s. There are so many adjectives to describe Rosa: Attractive, successful, well-travelled, and sexually liberated with more than a few notches on the bedpost. She spelled it out in no uncertain terms for me: The Female Player? Doesn’t translate to/exist in Italian society. It’s like a forcing a square peg into a round hole (no pun intended.)
In other news…
Up until the last couple of days, Mr. Frozen Vegetable had been sending brilliant one-liner texts to my cel. for the past month (ever since his ’15-seconds-to disappointment’ the night we got horizontal). No further invites to meet up again (not that I am holding my breath in anticipation), but simply a futile “Buongiorno” or “Ciao Bella,” therefore leaving me to ponder why even even wastes his time and hard-earned euro in the first place. I hate the though of him having my number and using me as some sort of ‘back-up’ or on some reserve ‘list’ for a bootie call – As that is SO NOT going to happen. Keep your socks on pal.
My last date should have been with ‘The Metrosexual Douchebag Cop.’ The name speaks for itself. Although he looked attractive enough, I knew he wasn’t remotely my type. He was a hard-core metro=sexual S.W.A.T cop that happened to own a clothing store, that had given me the heebie-jeebies from the very beginning, and I figured my fondness for occasional pot smoking would not go over well considering his primary occupation.
I had to ask if the photo he posted was actually him, as he looked like a bald chick starring in an ad for RayBan aviators. Later I saw on his very public FB profile he was caching a peanut gallery of overtly skanky women (some from Thailand – I suspect hookers, and others with mirror pics posing in their underwear). But he had been texting me for over a week wanting to take me out to dinner, and I was out of excuses – In my second last text message I finally caved as a free meal at a good restaurant sounded like a decent deal (and I was bored anyway):
” Sure, we can have dinner one day this week.”
Thereafter, in his reply he finally made his intentions abundantly clear, and fortunately giving me the best possible excuse to bail on his invite:
“Then we get a hotel?”
Yeah right. Just because I am (was) taking a stab at being a “player” doesn’t necessarily mean I am up for date with a MacDaddy creep with no class that has already decided I am easy pickins, as he considers himself just too irresistible for any woman in the free world to turn down.
Even if I was stupid and horny enough to go on a date with him after that little gem of a declaration, chances are his epic creepyness would send me looking for bathroom window to crawl out of. I say NO to uncomfortable situations with douchey men, and escaping out bathroom windows. Period.
News Flash: Just because you are in law enforcement doesn’t make you less of a douchebag.
The masses of locals remaining are more of the same…
Men without a clue who couldn’t be bothered to actually read your profile before they bombard you with chat requests, with boring mind-numbing personalities that can barely hold a stimulating conversation or write more than one sentence consisting of 4 words… and who post profiles photos in dark glasses as if they are in the witness protection program of online dating, or creepy out of focus cam-shots, photos of George Clooney or Bono, or are of the more ambitious cheeseball variety as seen in the examples below…
In the profile below is pictured one who recently emailed me, appears to be the poster-man for too much testosterone, and also my latest automated match from the dating site. I suspect the site is grasping at straws and is basing matches solely on geographic location, as SURPRISE! – He also has not so much as completed a profile and has zero in common with yours truly (me being a homo sapien and him some modern form, post-neanderthal gorilla hybrid).
I don’t revel being dragged by my hair into his man-cave.
Perhaps I would call him if I were auditioning potential members for a Village People revival act.
Not to dispair…
(Really, do I ever give up?)
There is always hope and there just happens to be 3 seemingly decent gents on the roster.
But that’s another post…