My Harshest Rejection E-V-E-R (and it wasn't even from her!)

Usually I give a six month grace period for dating stories for privacy reasons of the girls I am trying to date (or to ensure my own safety). Well this one has been over a year in coming. It has taken me this long to be sure it would be okay and reader beware--there is a little bit of cursing in this story. 

I had broken up with a girl a month earlier and was still (pretending to be) upset about it. I decided I would take a new initiative and ask out a girl I thought was out of my league (not fishing for compliments...unless you were lured in). Her name was Michelle (name has not been changed). She was crazy beautiful, a perfect party host, dressed like a polo model, cooked like Paula Deen and either didn't eat her food or worked it all off. 

I did my recon to find out if she was single, where she lived and her social (status). You know, the usual. Yes, nearby and 343-19-3... And it turned out that she was nice and had a testimony too. So off to the races.

From previous encounters (stalkings) I knew that she loved to bake and was from the south. So I got a bag of flour and drew a flower on it (see what i did there...?) and brought it over to her apartment to 'call on her,' as they say on the losing side of the Mason-Dixon, to ask her for a date.

I get a pep talk from my roommates, a final call of affirmation from her friend and march over to her apartment to ask her out and have a great story to tell our grandchildren.

Now--let me do a quick sidestep for this obviously shocking detail: I have a polarizing personality. Accordingly, a lot of people don't like me very much. Some people really don't like me. About 3 people hate me. One of them share's Michael Scott's zeal for Toby about me. Let's call her...Satine (name has been changed...but only slightly).

I knock on the door of my soon to be former future ex girlfriend and guess who is there? Go ahead. Guess....

The door opens.

My mouth drops.

"What are you doing here?" Satine stood before me, facial expressions cutting my heart with degrading daggers of dumbfoundedness.

"uh...I'm here to see Michelle...is she here?"

I see Michelle sitting on the couch and shuffle past Satine to occupy the spot next to her. Satine takes a seat across from us and begins to burn a hole through my shaken self confidence. 

"Um..." I look at Michelle, hoping to get some reassurance. 

None. 

My mind races. 'Okay, Zack. Stick to the plan. The bag--go to the bag!'

"I know you like to bake so I brought you this flower" [hold up bag and chuckle]. 

Silence. (A lot of silence.)

"...well I was wondering if I could ask you to lunch this week because--"

Satine immediately stands up and claps her hands. "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL NO! No no no no NO! There is no way that you are taking out my roommate, Zack Oates! None. I'm sure you are a nice guy, but no! Michelle, you can make your own decision. I'm leaving though. I can't see this. Let me know when he's gone."

And with that, she goes to the kitchen, grabs a small kitten to eat with her side of self-(es)steamed Oates, and goes to her bedroom. 

'H'm...that wasn't the plan,' monolouged my deductive reasoning.

Michelle smiles and politely declines the date, but accepts the flour. 

An hour later, I got a call from Satine to apologize for her actions and admitted that she wasn't sure why she hated me so much, but was sure it was because I had done something to someone she liked at one point (I didn't argue with her on the specifics). But we did make up and while we have never hung out on purpose, we have shared a few smiling hello's and exchanged pleasantries. 

So what is to be learned by this story? 

You know...I'm still trying to figure it out. I know that it has made me excited to not have to ask out girls, it made me grateful for everyone who doesn't hate me, it humbled me (don't worry, I've since recovered from that)--but what do you think? What should I have learned from this? 

With your help, maybe it isn't a year-long lost cause to the recesses of repressed regrets(+3). 

The Big Fat Single Lie

You would never guess who I bumped into last night... 

It was at the end of a 14-hour hot work day. My face was still warm from the 105 degree Texas sun and my right eye was slightly twitching from the 5 hour energy i drank to get me through the last 30 minutes of the day (it was barely enough...). I stumbled into CVS looking for something--or someone...I wasn't sure. 

Then, as I was meandering around, the way you do when you don't want to buy anything, but don't quite want to leave--I saw her. 

Her sultry glare shared my sunken stare. She almost didn't recognize me. I can't blame her, though. I have earned an extra crease under both eyes since she last saw me, a few months ago. She was leaning against the candy isle, eyeing the chocolate. 

It was 'my single life'...

I had been dreading this moment the last few days, but I knew it would come.

"Shall we? ...for old time's sake?" she posed, motioning to a bag of peanut butter M&M's.

Somehow, I think she knew i would come back to her. 

"You know," I stammered as I awkwardly ran my fingers through my hair, "I didn't really mean all those things I said when I left you...that last time." 

She knew I was lying, after all, I lied every other time I dragged myself and 22 candy coated grams of sugar back to her. 

She saw me glance at the fun pack. With her condescendingly cheap chuckle, she picked up the king size bag and tossed it to me. 

"It's Saturday night. Do you have plans?" She can be so cruel. 

In a flash I could see her wearing a wedding dress...weighing 500 pounds (say 'no' to that dress, please!). And for the first time in my life i truly realized the big fat single lie was right (wrong) in front of me: Being single isn't as glamorous as it would seduce you to believe. She will lure you in with promises of fun, freedom and more fun. Hot tub until your forehead gets pruney, vaca until you run out of ideas (money), dance until the sweat drips down your...well you get the point. But she'll never tell you that the heated water, adventure, excitement and fun can be had without her. She won't mention that when you enjoy life with another, you have the freedom of compound happiness. 

(Compound happiness is when you get even happier when you're happy for knowing that you being happy will make someone else happy, and them being happier makes you even happier.) 

She will veil the truth behind the ivory (and teal with a bronze accent) web of lies that she weaves so carefully...concealing her make ups for mark downs from the forethought exams. Even with life's lemons in the limelight of her limited outlook, she fails to look in. For if she did, she would see a bitter hollow shell. For with her, there isn't eternal support, perfectly kind words, sweet notes, meaningful kisses, gentle reminders, someone to think about during chick flicks, a well of intensely personal advice, a loving ear or a willing heart. She will try to convince you that by jumping in your ride and heading out tonight riding solo is YOLO, but know that the ice cream, ambien and netflix cocktails can't drown the innate desire of a human to care about and be cared about on a plane that is higher than platonic friendship. Ah yes, what she offers pales in comparison to what she never can...

In the middle of my marriage mirage (+4) (perhaps energy-drink induced), I was interrupted by an employee telling me that they were closing up. 

'Wow,' I thought, 'my first Saturday night single and I made last call....at CVS.'

I slide by my slyly stubborn single seductress and snag six (+7) (+8) (+9...oh nope, just +8, sorry about that, little carried away) bags of chocolate. Just enough for one...because I know that, at least tonight, no one will carry me home. (not) fun.

But...in the end, this too shall pass. One day, the only girl asking me to get chocolate will be my girl asking me to buy myself a chocolate slim fast.

LITERALLY Met on Accident

So i know that a lot of people use the word "literally," but this isn't a 'JBeibs literally blew my mind' or a 'I will literally kill you if you write about this on your blog' type use of the word (i hope). This is a literal use of the word.

Earlier this year, I'm pulling into a spot in the mall parking lot (probably to new tires or a gun to shoot small birds or something....okay, it was for a spa treatment. So what? I have good hygiene and don't like calluses. Hate me for it.) and as I'm waiting for the occupants to vacate a third row position, great for a saturday, (albeit I was a little disgruntled that it was next to a fingerprint-laced SUV (children and swinging doors...ugh)), I see two hot blond girls getting into their car to pull out on the other side of the mom-mobile (no...not mine. and I will have you know I've seen 4 guys driving my Mazda CX7 (*cough* in the last 3 years*cough*). 

All of a sudden I see the reverse lights go on from behind me. The blonds's's' car start to pull back. 

I honk my horn. I can't go forward because my spot's car is pulling out. I can't go backwards because their car was so close to mine. I felt like i was back high school when I had to quit the baseball team I didn't want to be in to try out for a musical I probably couldn't get a role in. I was stuck. I honk again and again and agaaaaaaain.....then, BANG(arang)! HOOKed me right in the bumper. 

She got out and apologized and all....and honestly, it was pretty tough to be that mad. I mean, I knew i would get a new bumper from daddy (she was driving a brand new BMW) and I was 5 min away from getting a full body. So I got her number and then all of a sudden realized....I got her number! So i did what any self respecting man would do who was hit (on) by a girl who was out of his league...I asked her on a date. 

Needless to say, the only love that came out of this wreck was my week long rental of a Buick Enclave while my CX7 was in the shop. 

But it just goes to show you...some things aren't destiny--they just happen...on accident. 

Why I'm Still a Virgin

Let's talk about sex...and not having it...until you should. Glad we had this chat. Now go clean your room.

...

Okay but really, I am going to talk about sex (and how most of what I have learned was taught in 4th grade health class and bachelor party stories). 

Recently, I made the comment on Fb/Tw about still being a virgin and apparently many people feel that a never-been-married 26 year old guy shouldn't be. Well I am here to tell you that you don't need sex parties or niche porn to live a fulfilling and happy life ('BWAAAAA?'). I have made a personal choice to wait to have any sexual activity until after marriage. 

Let me tell you why. Disagree, you may (Yoda imagery during sex talk....I retract).

I think sex is special. So special, in fact, that I don't believe that sex should be had outside of marriage. 

Many of my friends tell me I'm crazy. 'You can't buy a car without a test drive. You can't know if there is chemistry without sex! Do you want bad sex for the rest of your life?'

That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. It is like saying, 'You don't want going to the moon to be bad.' Scenario: I'm going to the moon. I've never been. I'm pretty sure whatever it is is going to be pretty cool. So chill your overactive jet packs. If it is the only I've ever had, it will be the best. 

Now as for the chemistry. Let me ask you non-virgins out there (and based on the number of bored housewives waiting for their kid to wake up and divorced ex girlfriends who read this blog, I'm guessing that number is pretty high)...have you ever kissed someone before having sex with them? Have you ever held someone's hand before kissing them before having sex with them? Yes on both accounts? 

My questioning progresses to a conclusion.

Have you ever held someone's hand and felt a spark? 

Kissed them and felt a spark?

Had sex with them...and NOT felt that same spark? that chemistry? that je ne sais pas quoi (as they say in America)?

NO! The answer has always, will always and is always no. 

Now you go telling me about this 'it physically needs to work' stuff and all....but what it really comes down to...is chemistry. 

So, I submit this post to you as a reason that sex before marriage is not needed, is a perfectly sane choice and does not prove anything about chemistry that cannot be deduced through other ways, such as kissing or even holding hands.

THAT being said...I do not want you to think that I think that people who think differently are bad people, but rather I am tired of people calling me ignorant for my personal decision. I know the moon is there. I will get there. But I will share that whole world with one person. 

p.s. do you know how difficult it is to google image something for a post like this and NOT be into niche porn? There are some things the safe filter just won't handle. 

Why Parades Don't Float my Boat

Ah, July 5. The day that is full of figuring out how to pay those fines for the illegal fireworks, buying new shoes since the soles of the ones we wore last night were ruined while putting out small fires and the day of reprieve from parades (until thanksgiving). 

[cue gasp]

Yes, folks, I don't like parades. And it isn't just the fact that others are getting more attention than me, it is so much more (self realization moment....and we're done). 

I consider myself a man of principle. Now while sometimes I just say that and am not sure exactly what it means (I don't eat fish out of principle), this time I actually have something to back it up. 

What do we teach every child growing up? What are the fundamental "don't's" to keep kids safe? 

1. Don't eat off of the ground.
2. Don't take candy from strangers.
3. Don't run into the street.

WELL CAN SOMEONE LET ME KNOW WHO HAS RAINED ON MY PARADE OF RATIONALITY? It is like the convention of obnoxious teenagers got together and said, 'how can we come up with something that will undermine everything parents ever taught us as children...?' and their answer: PARADES. 

Our children are friggn' bolting into the streets to eat candy off of the ground thrown by STRANGERS! 

Now before you get the gallows ready for my unpatriotic sentiment (God save the president...or this country from the president--whichever will make you happy), know that I love this country and I love apple pie and I love fast food and Hulk Hogan--I am American! But I also love principle. And while I'm sure my children will love knowing that for 364 days a year they have to listen to me, if they're anything like me, I just need to pray for rain on that one day they apparently don't.