The Bi-Polar Cowboy

I don’t really know where to start with this one… and I also don’t know how mean I should be, because I have plans to see him again, and I’ve found being mean about someone is hard to come back from if I decide to change my mind.

So let’s start with this… His profile pic was him in a cowboy hat.  I’m a sucker for cowboys.  Especially blue-eyed cowboys with dark hair… who have jobs… and seem normal.  “Seem” normal.

I saw him originally, read through his whole profile, and swooned.  Really, really good-looking.  Sounded like we would get along really well.  He sent me the original message, and I promptly replied.  No messing around when it comes to sexual cowboys with jobs.  Our chatter was brief before we exchanged numbers and he asked if I’d be interested in meeting him, to which I obviously replied yes.

This was about a week ago?  He had plans late last week to go on a rafting trip (which later got canceled due to the fact that he found himself having to work all weekend), so he asked if I wanted to meet for coffee on Monday (yesterday).  I’ve come to learn that although I had never been on a first date for coffee, it’s pretty common, and normal.  I don’t find any sort of date normal that doesn’t involve alcohol, but I decided to grow up and embrace the coffee date.  The strange thing was that he wanted to meet at a really awkward time, in Del Mar, which is in between where we both live.  He suggested 4pm, which I thought was really weird.  I do have a pretty flexible work schedule, but he didn’t know that.  How many people can meet in a random town at 4pm on a Monday??  I told him I couldn’t guarantee the time, as I had to see how late my meeting lasted which was about a half hour away.

THEN… he friend requested me on Facebook.  Ummmm…. no?  I texted him and said I had a policy about accepting FB friends before I even met someone.  He said he, unfortunately had the opposite policy, and promised himself he wouldn’t meet anyone in person again without being Facebook friends first, because he has learned his lesson (??), and he understood if I didn’t feel comfortable with it, but we’d have to cancel our date.  Wait… what?

I wasn’t ready to give up on the sexual cowboy yet, so I strategically accepted him, blocking him from most of my tagged photos and posts (including my blogs, obvi).  He was starting to seem very business-like and by-the-book, which was off-putting.  What was also off-putting is when he immediately DE-FRIENDED me on Saturday evening when he said something obnoxious about being “too old” to go out in PB (which is the town I live in), and I came back at him with a sarcastic response.  Of course, I called him out on de-friending me, and he said since I didn’t “seem interested,” he deleted me, because he likes to “keep his Facebook clean.”


Carissa was here for this entire conversation and she was like, “You are NOT meeting him.  I hate him.”

But I obviously didn’t listen to her.

We brushed off our texting disagreement, and he asked if I was still interested in meeting him Monday, and I said “No harm in coffee.”

So coffee it was.

As I’m nearing the Starbucks yesterday late afternoon, I texted V:  “I’m about to go on a sober first date.  I don’t think I’ve ever done this before.”

She asked, “Are you nervous??”

“Yeah!!  I’ve never been on a coffee date.  Fear of the unknown.  Kinda like a new gym.”

“Ugh I hate a new gym.”   …A social awkwardness we share.

So I pull up and he’s sitting outside with an iced tea or something (I’m late… good excuse though, I swear).  He’s on the phone.  I walk right up and mouth a silent hello.  He gives me the one minute sign, and tells whoever is on the other end of the phone to hold on a second.  Then he turns to me (still sitting… not even getting up to say hi), “Do you want to go in and get a drink?  I’ll be off the phone in one minute… sorry.”

I’m like, “Yeah, sure…”

And I walk into Starbucks.  At this point I’m already feeling awkward.  I literally feel like I’m going on an interview.  Not a date interview… a business interview.  I wait in line by myself to get my coffee, thinking… this is not a date.

I go back out, and sit across from him.  He is off the phone now, but still shows no interest in hugging hello (is it weird that my natural reaction would be to hug hello??)  We immediately get to talking about work, because we are obviously still mid-workday.  Cowboy launches into a full account of not only his job, but the specific deals that are in the works right now with specific investors, and how the contracts are being drawn up.  I’m like wwwwwttttttffffffff.

In between one of his first lectures on private equity or some sh*t, he pauses, and says, “You look really pretty.”  At which point I awkwardly giggled like a 12-year-old because it was out of the blue and I didn’t know how else to react.  I’m 30, I should have my act together at this point, having been on 3200 first dates, but no, I apparently do not.

The conversation evolves, and not only do I know exactly which jobs HE has had in the past 10 years, but I am fully briefed on his dad’s fashion business, and the way Walmart buys clothing.  My head is spinning.  I was not an economics major and I wasn’t prepared for such an in-depth conversation about the economic status of the world.  He’s easy to talk to but the conversation feels very business-like.  Could I hold the conversation?  Yeah.  Did I WANT to hold this conversation the first time meeting someone?  No.

He interjected just a tad of personal talk into his business rants, and I asked if these things were always swirling around in his brain and he said yes.  I think I could recite all the names of the attorneys he has worked with on deals in the past 8 years, as well as their children’s’ hobbies and hair color.  Holy CRAP…. I needed a nap.

So after a really non-stop, packed out conversation, he looks at his watch a little before 6, and says, “Should we get going?” and before I could even grab my purse he was out of his seat and halfway into the parking lot.  I literally thought he was going to just walk straight to his car without saying goodbye.  My head was spinning and I was really confused.  I stopped and said,

“Well my car is this way.”  And I just stood in the middle of the parking lot.  Like DUDE, give me a hug or at least a handshake.  He stopped, turned around and gave me sort of half hug, half pat and said it was nice meeting me.

I got in my car with my head spinning… confused if I was just on an interview to be a business partner or if it was actually, a date.  He didn’t like my one business idea I proposed, because he said I had a really “east-coast mindset,” so I’m assuming he didn’t want to continue into business together.

I wasn’t expecting to hear from him again, because whatever it was he wanted to get out of that meeting, I don’t think he got it.  But the most confusing thing was trying to figure out WHAT he wanted to come of that meeting.  Mid-day, outside a Starbucks.  I don’t think either one of us got to really know anything about the other’s actual personality… unless his personality IS work, and ONLY work… which I tend to doubt, and it didn’t match up with what he had to say about himself on his profile.

Maybe he just had a lot on his mind?  Maybe he was socially awkward??

He texted me about 2 hours later:  “Thx for meeting me”

Oh really??  Like you could get anymore business.  You can’t even spell out the word “thanks?”

I wrote back, “No prob.  Good meeting you”

Thinking this was the end, he then says, “Let me know if you would like to go out again”

Wait WHAT???  That is not you asking me out.  What does that even mean?  And you gave me no signs during our first interaction that you even would WANT to see me again.  Which obviously means I DO want to go out again.  But I’m not going to make it completely easy.  So,

“Would that be implying you’d like to go out again?”

“Yes please”

I said I would, and he suggested a pool day Saturday (he apparently has a pool), or something for football Sunday.  I told him I couldn’t commit yet for this weekend because it’s my sister’s birthday weekend so I wanted to see what she wanted to do first.  He said to just keep him posted and I said ok.

Then…. Mr. Business ends the conversation.  The final text of the night.

He typed, “xo”

I literally LOLed.  I think he is bi-polar.  I really don’t know what’s wrong with him.  I told Carissa, “Maybe I’ll marry him for money.”

She said, “Don’t invite me to the wedding… unless I get half.”


This one is confusing.  I really need to meet him again.  Stay tuned.

xoxo Gossip Girl

Pitstop in Nashville

Night two of our road-trip we spent in Nashville.  It was a “must-stop” location, so we planned it so we would arrive in the evening with enough time to go out and see the town.  As we were driving early in the day, Carissa says:  “I can’t wait to get to Tennessee tonight and have a glass of whiskey!”

“Oh, I guess I’ll have one too.”

“You can put ginger ale in yours.  I wont call you a [wussy].”

Oh, gee, thanks.

It was a Monday night.  That apparently matters… even in a touristy town like Nashville.  There was NO ONE out.  And when I say there was no one out, I mean it was EMPTY… to the extent that in every bar we walked into, the live band greeted us personally.

At the first place, we took a seat at the bar next to a strange couple.  A younger woman who yelled, “TICKLE ME!” at the band, and an older man in a cowboy hat, with a hook for a hand.  Scratch that, TWO hooks… one for EACH hand.  That didn’t stop him from chugging beer, as he had a special beer-holding attachment on one of the hooks.

The band began talking to us on their mics, being those two were obviously locals and we were the only other ones in the bar.  They asked if we wanted to come up to the stage.

I asked, “Can I play your piano?”


The woman behind the bar goes, “Honey, that’s not a piano.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, can I play your KEYBOARD?”

“That’s not a keyboard either.  It’s a steel guitar.  If you go up there thinking it’s a keyboard, they’re gonna make fun of you.”

Oh… whoops.  Who knew about steel guitars?  Thanks, bartender.

That scene got boring pretty quickly, so we moved to the next bar… at which we were greeted immediately by the band:  “Hey ladies!  Can you please take a seat up front so we can look at your legs?”

Errr ew?  Carissa whispers, “Get those two seats in the back,” and continues to the ladies room.

I’m sitting there, spinning in my stool, admiring the huge deer head on the wall, which makes me think about my newfound knowledge of taxidermy.  I recently spent a week training a new rep from Tennessee, so I got an earful about hunting, fishing, hiking and stuffing animals to hang on your wall.

Carissa comes and joins me, and I ask her, “Do you know how they do taxidermy?”

She stares at me with a blank look on her face.

I ask, “Do you know what taxidermy is??”

She finally snaps to it and responds, “Ohhhh yeah…. sorry, at first I thought you were talking about what Chase does.”  (our brother is an accountant…..)

“No, I’m talking about preserving dead animals and hanging them on the wall.  Do you know how they do that?”

She looks at me with a completely straight face and says, “Yeah.  Glue.”

“GLUE?????”   Now I’m laughing…. “You think they take GLUE and rub it all over the animal???”


“No, you idiot.”

I continue to teach her about taxidermy and then say, “Do you know about the eyes?”

“Yeah they’re glass.”

“Oh wow, good job… I didn’t know that part.”

“What’d you think they were REAL eyes??”

“Yeah, I guess….”

“And I’M the idiot?!”

Time for the city girls to move on from this town before someone overhears a conversation and throws us out…..

Until next time… xoxo Gossip Girl

The 4 Month Husband

Although I’ve tried to branch out from blogging about primarily dating stuff, it seems it’s hard to get away from it.  When you’re 30 and single, dating sort of becomes a necessary hobby.  Well, necessary if you ever want to find a significant other before you’re old and wrinkled with 17 cats.

There was one guy I met last October that I never blogged about.  I suppose it was because I thought there might be some potential, and I didn’t want to jinx it.  It was a football Sunday.  I went out to a boozy brunch with my brother, sister-in-law, and friend Meg at our favorite spot, CK 14.  Afterwards, Chase had to leave to catch a flight out of town for work, so the girls continued on, wandering the streets of NYC in our football jerseys (such big sports fans, I know), until we stumbled upon a big, rowdy sports bar.  We made our way through the crowd, found a spot in the back near a TV, got a couple of pitchers, and made some friends.  At one point, Brittany announced:  “I’m going to find you a husband today.”

“No, Britt, please no.  There’s no one here I’m interested in.”

It was true.  I obviously did a scan of the bar on our way in, and everyone appeared to be douchey frat boys.  I wasn’t in the mood to look for a husband.  I just wanted to drink beer and watch football (maybe I should find a wife).  But when Brittany’s on a mission, Brittany’s on a mission.  And wingman she is.

At one point, she disappeared to “go to the bathroom” and never came back.  About 20 minutes passed when one of the guys we were sitting with said “maybe you should go look for her?”

It was cold out; we all had our coats and bags on the chairs.  Meg was fading and wanted to leave.  After she left I collected all of our things and went looking for Brittany.  Where I found her was in another room at the front of the bar, surrounded by three guys.  She sees me coming and says,

“Oh here she is!  Court, I wanted to introduce you to your future brother-in-law, and your future husband!”

Oh great.  I should have seen this coming.  She had been gone for so long that all three of the guys knew my entire life story, my career path and my dating history.   Brittany briefed me on my new husband’s background, and detailed me on why she specially chose him out of ALL of the guys in the bar (there were A LOT of guys in the bar).

I had a short conversation with my husband before he looked at his watch and walked out to make a phone call.  He had a flight to San Francisco that evening for work, and he tried (unsuccessfully) to get on a later one.  He quickly said his goodbyes and left.  Without my number.

Brittany was DEVASTATED.  Like actually devastated.  She just didn’t understand.  “Britt, this happens.  This is life.  It’s not a big deal.”

“But WHY didn’t he get your number????”

“I guess he just didn’t like me that much!”

Britt tried to give HER number to his friend in case he ASKED for MY number.  She wasn’t ready to give up yet.  He said that made no sense.  She suggested I give him my number.  ladjfa;ldksfja;dlkfj;fjda;lfjads;l f  Fine.  I gave his friend my number.  He texted me several times.  I don’t know why.

A few days later I got a text.  “Hey, it’s [husband].  I was in such a rush I forgot to get your number.  I’m really glad Pat got it for me.”

Mmmmm… okay.  Anyway, the guy travels like crazy.  It seemed he was only in NY for like a day every two months.  It was 4 months until we had our first date.  I liked him.  He was the perfect mix of tall athlete, a hint of hipster, and a touch of cowboy.  If a shoe collection could tell a story, his closet (I now know) is lined with Chuck Taylors, Sperrys and cowboy boots.

The date went well… we had a couple of drinks mid-week back at CK 14, which seems to be our middle-ground between the upper east side and Hoboken.  He was funny.  And charming.  And from the midwest, but had skulls on his belt.  I was digging it.  We said goodbye near the subway, and that we hoped it would be sooner than 4 months before we saw each other again.  Then… nothing.

I got a random text from him a while later, saying he was flying back into town and would be around for the night.  It happened to be the night I dressed like a clown and made balloon hats in the subways with my sister.  I told him “Maybe we can meet you later, but we’re dressed like clowns.”

He said “Okay, let me know when you’re on your way.”

“Carissa, he didn’t even ask why we were dressed like clowns.”

“That’s weird.”

So we met him and his brother and his friends.  Dressed like clowns.  At a bar that was not clown themed.  We had a blast, Carissa gave me the stamp of approval, “I actually don’t hate him,” and that was that.  “Bye!  Hopefully we’ll do this again, in sooner than 4 months.”  After that night…. nothing.  WTF.

He texts me out of the blue on Thursday… 4 months later.  “Happy hour tonight?”

“I can’t, I have a thing from 7-9.”

“Oh… a thing!”

“A Yelp event… I didn’t want to sound nerdy so I tried to get away with ‘a thing.'”

“Nice try.  Super nerdy.”

Turns out he was around all weekend, so Meg and I went to meet up with him after the Yankee game last night (or should I say DURING the Yankee game… we opted to blow that popsicle stand during the rain delay).  He invited us to his place since his friends weren’t going out til later on.  We grabbed some beer and headed over.

We were greeted by a fancy doorman, who actually opened the door for us, and went up to his 11th floor apartment.  Holy freakin’ crap.  It was decorated impeccably in somewhat of a vintage/nautical/California theme and had a gigantic balcony completely furnished.   I’ve noticed lately I tend to fall more in love with people’s apartments than the people who live in them.  But honestly, I’m in love.  With the apartment.  And his shoe collection.

Somehow it came up he is moving to Atlanta for work on the 30th.

“WHAT?!  You can’t move to Georgia!!!”

“You’re moving to California the day before me!  You have no say.”

“Ugh, this is horrible.”

We went out and had an amazing time.  When it was time to say goodbye, I said…. “Well… maybe I’ll see you in 4 months?”

“Actually, most likely we’ll never see each other again.”

“OMG that is a horrible thing to say.”

“I’m just being honest…”

And that’s that.  Farewell, husband… until we meet again (or not).

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