Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Dating story #49, From Boulder to Peru.

I'm still reeling from all the comments on my last post!
They were hilarious.
TMI [=Too Much Info]
And about 89 more adjectives.
I loved them all!
Yes, even the harsh ones.  Hey, you're entitled to your opinion. And I'm entitled to tell you to F off.
But, I won't. Because you don't go through a marriage, divorce, another break-up, 8 insane months of dating like a mad-woman, and 11 years in the boys club that is the creative ad game and not end up with a Teflon-like epidermis.  
That's right people. I'm pretty tough. I can take it [most of the time. no guarantees if I'm on my menses.]
And, don't worry. This weekend, I got right back on that horse. Or, should I say caballo...?

Recently, I decided I was over Match dating. It was a fun little experiment in the beginning, and lately, I haven't been even looking at it.  I'm just one of those customers they really like that keeps auto-renewing their membership because they're too busy/lazy/forgetful to remember to cancel it. So I keep getting billed for services that I'm not only not using, but that are also ANNOYING me.
My mom would be SO disappointed in me!
Why annoying? I get a few emails or "winks" [ugh, please. I'd rather get "stabs." What guy "winks?" Losers.] a day and they are generally terrible and a waste of my time and inbox space.  Especially when you have a smart phone (or UNsmart phone in my case) and you get pissed off every time something like that makes it vibrate during the work day.
So I finally cancelled my membership.
But those damn marketing geniuses at Match have it figured out.  See, if you cancel before your subscription expires, they start promoting you like CRAZY on the site. Exposing you to more people than ever before. So, instead of getting less emails, I got a MOUNTAIN of them. My phone was buzzing enough to qualify as a battery-operated pleasure device! Ridic.
But, I guess if the quantity is higher, the odds of finding more decent people is too.  So a few not-as-losery prospects began to emerge.  One, in particular, was Peru. He seemed tall, athletic and good-looking in his pics.  And, I liked what he had to say.  So we began emailing and finally got to the point of talking about meeting up.  However Peru, being 40 and not an immature dipshit, thought it would be a good idea to CALL and speak before doing so.  25 year olds, TAKE NOTE!
So we had a quick but easy chat where I discovered he has a very thick accent, but he seemed cool and charming, so we met up Saturday night for drinks at my emerging fave, Casa Mezcal.
It was a hot, sultry, humid night. Perfect for hair and not-sweating. But I walked in and Peru was already at the bar, and, even better-looking than his pics. Phew.  
I know Boulder Boy turned out to be an absolute doucheburger, but shitgoddamn, he was so freakin' handsome. So it's going to be hard for anyone who follows to not pale in comparison. Luckily, Peru is not pale. He's a nice warm caramel with kind eyes to go along with it. And, I proceeded to have a really good time with him. Along with, approximately, 4 cucumber margaritas. ¡Ole!
He was very easy to talk to, and loved that I could speak spanish back to him (before margarita 3.5 that is).  He's your typical romantic, passionate Latin man. Hard-working, loves his family, food, dancing and showered me with compliments.  Apparently blue eyes really do it for Peru
And, somehow he even convinced me to go DANCING with him.
Now don't get me wrong, I heart dancing. I grew up taking dance from pretty much the minute I could walk with stability.  But going dancing with a guy I just met is a whole other story. Until, that is, I was talked into drinking possibly the strongest Caipirinha I've ever been given. I'm pretty sure there was lighter fluid in there. But it was effective! So he got me salsa dancing with him and eventually, making out while doing so.  How was it?  My first thought: 
That's right. Something to the effect of Hungry Hungry Hippos. 
I feared for the fate of my face. So, yes, not quite "ideal." But it did improve slightly.  Until Peru decided to fall very quickly in like with me and say things like "Leendsy, I like ju. I want to date ju."
Eek! Slow down, turbo.  But I was pretty drunky drunk at this point and just assumed he was too.  And, I was having some much-needed fun, so I decided to just go with it.  I'm glad I did.  At around 3am we returned to my domicile, both sweaty messes.  Before either of us could proceed I demanded that we both take [separate] showers.  If I wanted sweaty dates, I'd conduct them at Bikram Yoga.  So we got cleaned up and segued into slumber party land.  Like I said, Peru is mucho affectionate and sweet.  It felt nice to just be held and cared about, instead of held and then douched upon.
Even though Sunday was Easter Sunday, I am a) a Jew and b) nothing makes one immune to an impending high-stakes new business pitch, so that meant work on sunday!  But at least not until the afternoon.  So, Peru and I set out to get some brunch before I went back to the salt mines for the day. 
Lately, I've been dreaming about eggs benedict at my favorite teeny, tiny LES spot, Zucco le French Diner. It's been deemed a "French truck stop" and I must say, the food there is EPIC, especially the eggs benny. And when I say this place is small, I'm not kidding.  It's mostly bar seating plus like 3 tiny tables.  You also have no idea whether or not it's going to be open that day. Ah, the French! 
So, Peru and I strolled up and I saw people dining outside. Success!  
Until....hoping to see open seats inside, I poked my head in just past the doorframe and WHAM-O!
Dining at the bar facing the door [I've included a pic so you can see just how close that is to the door/how tiny the resto is], was my scorned, angry ex-bf, Champ.  
"AH!" I exclaimed and JUMPED away from the door. 
"¿Que paso?" asked Peru.
"Umm...we cannot go in there. Ex-boyfriend. Sorry." 
Luckily, he was cool, didn't seem to think I was insane and we walked off.  
But I must say, c'mon, CHAMP!  You a-hole, don't you know the rules of break-up?  
That is MY spot.
In MY neighborhood.
That you wouldn't even know about if not for ME.
Ugggh.  So, thinking fast, we proceeded to 'inoteca.  Part of me feared running into Teca there (of course), but it's been so long and we're cool with each other. Plus, wouldn't be too terrible if I had to see him looking cute with a strapping Peruvian at my side, would it?  Luckily, I didn't have to wonder since he wasn't working that shift.  
Peru and I had a lovely brunch, he's a total gentleman continuously lavishing me in compliments, refusing to let me pay etc.  Yet, I couldn't wait to say good-bye to him and head off to work. Sooo.....yeah. Guess that should be an indicator, huh?  I hate to say it, but I just really don't see my self ending up with one of the foreigns.  They are awesome in so many ways, but when it comes to getting my wacko sense of humor and sarcasm, something just falls short.  It sucks, but at least I know now that's something that really attracts me to someone.  
After working for several hours, I finally got back home to a text from my friend S who also works at 'inoteca.  I met her through Teca last summer and we clicked from the start.  I don't see her often because she's also a vampire, but we still keep in touch and had tentative plans for Sunday night.  So I ended up meeting up with her and friends BACK at 'inoteca, where they had been downing vino since about 4p. It was nice to kick back and just hang out. I need a work/life balance, no matter how exhausted I am!
I learned from S that Teca: no longer works at 'inoteca as of recently AND now lives with Hairy Pits. UGH. I guess love really IS blind. Anyway, they dragged me to Barramundi for more drinks and finally, at about 12:15a I had to go home so I wouldn't be total roadkill at work Monday.  But, get this:
Monday afternoon, I get a text from S:  "Teca literally walked into Barramundi SECONDS after you left last night!" 
Omg. I potentially almost ran into TWO ex's in the same day.  Is Mercury in retrograde or WHAT?  I have to say, I would've actually liked to have run into Teca, would've been nice to see him and catch up. Oh well, probably bound to happen soon. 
This is my life currently. 
Actually, THIS is my life:  
Yesterday, fed up with feeling like I have to bolt if I ever run into Champ, I decided to write him a friendly email.  I basically just said that I've seen him several times and I'm not sure if he's seen me, but I've been hesitant to approach him, unsure of his comfort level and reaction, so I thought, hey- we're both mature adults, right? So I just wanted to reach out and  see if we could be friends yet.
He responded. Let's just say apparently only ONE of us is a mature adult.  The other is a baby man-child with not much interest in being anything besides "cordial/strangers." I'll let you deduce who's who in this scenario.

Dear Universe,
Please send some goodness my way, stat.  And by "goodness," I do not mean the buckets of fried cuisine and contraband Girl Scout cookies you've sent so far.
Thank you,


  1. dear lindsey,
    i love you. the end!

    in a completely straight kinda way. and i agree with you on the whole foreigners thing. great for friends, not my husband.

  2. i think you should not rule out foreigners all together. it is safe to say the ones you've met were not for you. just be open to anything, we never know what tomorrow will bring.

    signed, Ro (comment poster previously known as harsh, tmi anon)

  3. [sending you positive boy vibes and goodness]