Ninety-effing-two on the "Marriagability Matrix" - An ITOFTS Bougie Bachelorette Chronicle

*ITOFTS = I'm Too Old For This Shiggity

I recently had a man tell me that I was 92% of what he was looking for. 

Wait for it...

But he really needed that other 8%.

**Crickets**

Knowing that "You can take that 92% and stuff it up your anal-retentive anus" was a bit snide not to mention circular in logic and clearly not the right thing to say, I nodded and replied. "Go find it. And good luck."

He later called and tried to explain this "marriagability matrix" that he had in his mind but by that time I was so pissed off that I let loose a string of Beyonce lyrics strung together from all of her albums and punctuated them by slamming the phone down.

For those who are curious, the matrix had the top ten things you absolutely require in a life partner and then you score 1 - 10 on each item to come up with the total number. For giggles (after pear vodka shots), I did a matrix on dude. He was a 72. Did I tell him that? Hell yes I did when he called BACK to say we were just on a break and he needed time. I need no more time to wait on a 72 to get his mind right. Again.

This got me to wondering - if you had to rank your spouse/s.o. on a marriagability matrix - what might you put on it and how might they score? How would you score? Now don't go kicking up dust in your happy homes to feed my curiousity. I asked this question of several married and long-standing relationship couples I know and rarely did they rank each other higher than an 81. And they were happy about it. That's a B. 

I was a 92 and he walked. Say it with me now - I'm too old for this shiggity. We don't have to hold a requiem for this relationship, I'm already onto the next. Cuz apparently in addition to being an A-, I'm a serial monogamist and a glutton for punishment... :-/

Do you believe in rankings/criteria when it comes to choosing a mate or just go with your gut/heart? Do tell...

ITOFTS: When keeping it #Scandal goes wrong

*ITOFTS = I'm too old for this shiggity! And if you haven't watched last night's Scandal, quit reading!!

1:37am phone rings. I think I'm dreaming so I turn over.

1:39am phone rings again. I drank one glass of wine too many during #Scandal so I was in a deep, sound (there might have been snoring) sleep. Plus, the temperature dropped from seventy to thirty something so I was hibernating under the covers like a bear in winter time. By the time I got one hand free, the phone stopped ringing.

1:41am phone ring one mo' good time. Dammit. It MUST be an emergency, right? I yank it off the charger, press the ON button and mutter, "What?"

"So if I bought you a house would you come back?" Apparently, Dude had watched this:

 

I don't even open an eye. "Who is this?" I knew but I was testy.

"You know who it is. If I bought a house where you wanted and fixed it up exactly how you wanted, would that work?"

"Work for what?"

"Would that be what you need to see to come back, give me another shot?"

"You think you know me well enough to buy me the exact house of my dreams or might you assume, as you've done on other occasions, that you know better and do the exact wrong damn thing? And after I accept the house, I'm supposed to live there with you and suddenly we'll just live happily ever after like a damn fairy tale? I'm not Cinderella, you're no Prince Charming."

"I woke you up huh."

"Basically."

"But if I got it right and it wasn't 2 in the morning, would it work?"

"Was that your first episode of Scandal?"

"Yes. But that stuff he said about the dream was deep."

"And fiction. Dreams are dreams. Let me say this, you're no Fitz and I'm no Olivia. We don't have that climb every mountain, cross every sea kinda love. I don't embrace drama and I don't think love has to be crazy to be real. So... No. A house wouldn't work."

"I'm downloading Season One."

"Happy watching." CLICK. Flung phone across room mumbling, "Trifling Negreaux watches one episode of Scandal and thinks he's unlocked the secrets of the female psyche. Jesus be some sense and some call block." I was back to sleep as soon as I turned over.

My life, your entertainment. Say it with me now: I'm too old for this shiggity.

One for the ITOFTS files - First date fail, WDDDA?!

*ITOFTS = I'm too old for this shiggity
*WDDDA = Where Dey Do Dat At?

Met a guy in the Wine & Imported Beer section of Central Market about a week ago. We chatted about Chardonnay, preened over Pinot, grinned over Gewürztraminer, murmured over Moscato. You get the idea. Everything is witty repartee when you're perusing bottles of fermented beverage. As I moved towards the seafood counter, he asked for my name and phone number. I gave him my first name and my Google Voice number and went on with my shopping. Let's say his name was Sam.

Sam called today and asked if I wanted to come out and watch football with him. I said sure, where would he like to meet? He gave me the name of a place I hadn't heard of. I questioned, "Where is that, I don't think I'm familiar with it?" He told me where it was and I frowned. The street he named is a notorious red light district. To the best of my knowledge, nothing was on that side of the highway but strips clubs, shady pay-by-the-hour no-tell motels, liquor stores, gas stations, gun stores and a huge Sam's Warehouse. (Quite the combination of retail, don't you think?)

Jokingly I said, "You aren't inviting me to a strip club for a first date, are you?" Silence. Epic silence. And the all the crickets stopped chirping in dismay. I spoke again, "Sam? Is this a strip club?"

"It's an upscale gentlemen's club, not a sleazy titty bar, what's wrong with that? They have great game day specials. I always have fun there." No doubt.

I was literally struck speechless. Like my mouth moved but no words were forming or falling out of it.

He jumped in. "Oh, you're one of those. You're repressed, you need to ease into this. Let me meet you for coffee first."

I stayed speechless. How do you come out of the gate with strip club and then try to fall back to Starbuck's to work back up to the strip club? I finally found my voice. "You know, I think I'll pass. But have a great time."

"What do you mean you'll pass? You don't want to go out today or at all?" Sam sound confused.

That made two of us. I was confused too. The guy who knew more about wine point scales than I ever would and could pontificate about soil in California vs. Argentina producing merlot vs. malbec thought the booty bar was fine entertainment on a first date? It wasn't just the wine conversation, brother gave good grocery store gab. It did not compute. I wasn't in the mood for a mystery. "At all." I answered shortly.

"Wow. You're really narrow-minded. You need to-"

"Sam, I'm going to stop you right there. Before you waste both of our time running game that works on a confused twenty-two year old. Enjoy your day." Click. Pull up Google Voice option. Automatically block number. And done.

People, is it me? Is the strip-club-as-first-date invitation what's hot in the streetz? I'm unable. I don't have anything against "gentlemen's clubs" if people want to pay women to shake their hindparts, I say do you. I have nothing against Cristal and nem getting rained on at the House of Cheeks. It's not my thing. It's most assuredly not my thing on a first date with someone I'm trying to find out more about. To quote the movie Bad Boys, "How do you concentrate with all the scattered ass everywhere?" I don't know. But I will say this... I'm too old for this.

Fellas, would you take a first date to a strip club? Ladies, would you go on a first date? Am I missing something? Please respond...

ITOFTS - What kind of woman would I be? Plus, hell no.

*ITOFTS = I'm too old for this shiggity...

A good friend of mine from way, way back in the day got divorced this year. I can't say that I was surprised, more incredulous that it had taken her this long to pull the trigger. She was "ride or die" with dude through extremely thick and painfully thin. There were years when she carried the entire emotional, financial and parental weight of the marriage on her own. Years.  And while I understand the concept of staying together for the good of their child, I also know the the little one literally got up and performed a happy dance when she found out they were separating. "We'll be fine on our own. See you next weekend." The eight year old announced to a departing daddy. Welpity welp. She did all but chuck deuces.

I have heard the stories about how he tried to get out of paying child support, tried to get spousal support from my friend, tried to hide his income, tried to claim medical hardship. You name it, he tried it. And still lost in court. The ink is barely dry on those papers but she's free. Fast forward to last weekend...

I was posted up at an Uptown Dallas eatery when Dude (Departed Daddy) strolls in with his boys. Now he and I have never been close. I've been side-eyeing dude from jump but I'm so inherently Southern (that means friendly to a fault) that this dude actually thought I was cheering for him all these years. He thought my friendship with wife spilled over to him. Sir, meet reality check. Reality check, Departed Daddy. You two should sit and get acquainted.

He struts in and gives me a huge hug before starting in with his, "You look well. It's hard out here for the newly-single" rap segueing into "maybe you could give a brother some tips... or a soft landing.... ha, you know how I play... can I buy you another drink?"

NAWL. I told him I was good, wished him well and turned back around to chat with my companions. Departed Daddy did not take the hint AND decided he was being too subtle. He tapped my shoulder, "Hey, I'm trying to ask you out or is that too weird?"

"It's weird, wrong and unwelcome. So... have a great night." Done and done, right? No. Dude takes my stool, turns it towards him and leans in. "C'mon, babe. No one has to know, we can just kick it on the low." Babe? On the low? 1996 called, it wants its corny phrasing back. But anyway... no. And what kind of woman am I supposed to be? So I said. "I'm really not interested." To which he said, "Would you be interested if I wasn't XX's ex-husband?" Me: "Not at all. Plus you are so that's a double down on the Hell leaning heavily into the No." Then I grabbed purse and signaled to pals that we were rolling out.

This Negreaux texted me every hour on the hour ("just think about it" "I'll do right by you" "You're the kind of woman I need in my life") until I figured out how to block his texts and unfriend him on Da Facebook. He's assuming I don't know he's a borderline deadbeat with no bed game and a tendency to not only miss the toilet (with the seat down!!!) but also go MIA when it's time to clean up around the house? He's assuming that he was ever my type to begin with? He's assuming that because I remain unmarried and unattached that I'll jump at the chance for any old thing? I don't know but the whole thing pissed me off royally.

BnB, Where Dey Do Dat At? Where? What kind of man rolls up on one of his brand new ex-wife's oldest friends? And keeps hollering long after "oh-but-hell-no" has been delivered. I guess there are women that would take him up on it. Even if I was tempted (I'm so not), I would never because you know... friendz over menz. Yeah, I just made it up. What's the new saying divas over d!cks? I don't know. I'm not hip.

My question to you is... who does this? And what's the best, break-it-down-so-it-will-forever-be-broke way to make sure he gets that the no is a foreva-eva kind of no? I ask as I see this dude has just inMailed me on the LinkedIn. Jesus be a catchable clue. 

When sweet becomes scary... ITOFTS!

*ITOFTS= I'm too old for this shiggity

My friend Trey, bless his heart, is a serial dater. Usually gets three or four dates in, sleeps with her finds a fatal flaw in the woman and is out.  In his defense some of these women have been um... questionable. (Making one wonder what besides the boo-tay he saw in them from jump? But anyway, moving on...)

The other day he was on third date with a lovely 32-year old professional sister whose company he had enjoyed thus far. They dined at new Mexican spot in Uptown Dallas, walked for drinks at a trendy bistro and settled outside on the patio to enjoy the night.  At some point in the conversation he indicated that he would like to see her again. She smiled and said she would like that.

All good. Random chatter continued. A few minutes later she said she enjoyed spending time with him and hoped that they could continue to get to know each other and grow closer. He thought it was sweet.

Later in the conversation, she told him that in order for them to move forward she was going to need his home phone number (she only had the cell number), the number to a member of his family and his Facebook login information. She also wondered if he would mind if she went through his phone. He laughed nervously, positive that she was joking. She shook her head and told him she was serious and held her hand out for the phone.

"Why do you need that?" he asked.

She proceeded to tell him that she had trust issues and it was usually at this point that men started lying to her. He asked her if she thought that having access to a man's personal information would stop him from lying and she said he would at least hesitate if he knew she might find out the truth. He indicated that he found her line of reasoning skewed and she loudly retorted with some choice expletives. He told her that he was not willing to share all of that and she told him that meant he had something to hide and asked him to take her home.

There endeth the relationship before it got started. 

I was flabbergasted. Am I out of the loop? Are we sharing logins and fam phone numbers with folks? Especially folks we're not sure if we're serious about? Going into a relationship asking to see the cell phone is a bit much, is it not? If someone asked you for your logins and whatnot, what would you do?Someone help me out here... thoughts, comments, insights?