What happened to having a drink first?

What the fuck goes through men’s heads when they reach out on LinkedIn with a perverted comment about your photo and or try to ask you out? I know that I’ve asked this before, but seriously? And…. with time, it’s only gotten worse. I get messages on Instagram from random people and I’m no innocent, as I’m online dating on Tinder, Bumble etc., but I expect to receive messages there. Not sure that I expect some of the ones that I receive though about oral sex, 3 ways, and if I want to join in their poly lifestyle.

The Internet has created a marketplace for passive aggressive men that would not typically approach a woman like this in person. I don’t know if it’s that’s they’re more brazen and bold hiding behind the internet, but whatever the case, it’s getting worse. I get on average 2-3 messages on LinkedIn and then, Instagram has become a new playing field and then there are the randoms that will use your Airdrop from Apple to send random dick pics to your phone on the subway or in public just because they can. Lol. I keep that locked down after hearing about this new tactic.

Remember when someone would write a bad check and the check would be hung up for everyone to see In the market and they were shamed? This was a response to hoping that the person would not only be deterred from his behavior, but also not do it again, right? I’m thinking perhaps this behavior being called out may help some realize how ridiculous it is.

I have an Instagram account and receive no less that several unsolicited messages from men starting by saying, “Hello” … or telling me that they saw me on either Tinder or Bumble and since I did not match with them, they wanted to reach out to me anyway and see if I could meet them!? Umm… First, I swiped left, which means that I’m not interested, but “Thank You” for your persistence, but please leave it there… instead, they push it to asking me for photos, about sex, commenting about my body, and my favorite is receiving dick pics this way… Umm… Look men, no one wants to see your dick pictures. No one… and if you send these to us… unsolicited, we have the right to share them with our friends. Ha-ha…and I do.

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With all the harassment and misbehavior taking place and men being outed, I think that we have tended to shuffle this behavior under the mat for decades, as it was typically not managed well. I believe that we are at a Tipping point right now where women are coming forward to exploit these men of their actions because we are just exhausted of being treated like sex objects, getting paid less for the same work, being ridiculed and we are supposed to be your equal, yet why are people only now listening? I don’t know, but I’m grateful that they are.

Personally, I’ve been sexually harassed my entire life… I can still tell you stories of being held down and felt up by boys on my swim team that I once thought were friends… they each took turns and then, acted like nothing happened. I think this was the way I lost my innocence with men and reacted by calling them out and probably used some fine words… it continued throughout my life. Sometimes in ways that were worse than others… I’ve been solicited by men in the workplace dozens of times in my life, most were executives.  Believe me, I can say, “Fuck Off” faster than most.

I was asking my guy friend the better place for online dating where men are actually looking to date vs. fuck and he just laughed at me… I was wondering his opinion on Tinder, Bumble, OKC, POF, Match and etc. He goes… “Umm… I get more ass from Bumble”… I was shocked.. I thought Bumble was the upgrade to Tinder? What did I know? I met K on Tinder and we still talk and see one another…who knows. Everyone that reaches out to me ends up being a perv eventually.

With this, I would like to share some of my wall of shame….There are several more where these came from…and I may just keep sharing them, as I have that many.

What happened to asking a girl out to drink and trying to feign interest? Then after a few drinks, acting like a pervert trying to hook up? Now, they go straight for the jugular and ask if you’re “DTF”- Which Apparently means, “Down to Fuck”… or into a 3 way.. or just tell you how they want to lick and eat your ass…Thanks for the romance boys, does option b come with flowers?

When people wonder why I keep going back to “The Boy”… well, these are just a few examples.

Enjoy!

The Boy…

The Boy

He was the first one to write… we both swiped right on one another… flirted back and forth… established where we both lived compared to each other…. Then, he vanished…like people do.

The next was a playful Ivy league graduate in Mathematics, soccer player, worked for his own Investment firm…very cute. He was about  9 years younger or less…We flirted back and forth, then he asked me out. We went on a few dates and all of which, he was a complete gentleman… after a few nights of drinks, banter and not even a single kiss… I kind of wrote him off. After days of silence, he started texting me again… flirting…. explaining he was courting me… so the affair begins… He was definitely responsible for getting my groove back… it was like delivery. All I had to do was text him and he came running over…sometimes bringing wine with him.

He even met me after a flight home… wished me a happy birthday, and you ask, “what happened to him?”  He ended up going on a series of trips and one of them was over a month gone… with this, I ended up answering other men… and well, things happen for a reason…

This is where, “The Boy” entered my life… he’s 10 years younger than me.

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The fountain of youth…

Where to begin…. I’m still single, so the long-distance thing never worked out…as it never really does, does it? Now, after sharing so much of yourself with someone and dreams, hopes, and experiences… then, it just disappears…evaporates and you’re strangers again. I ended up giving up dating for a while…I believe that I went almost 2 years without intimacy or any kind of romance in my life, other than some random dates that were less satisfying than a hot bath and glass of wine.

 

I have tried to build out a career, where I thought that I had one, but in the end…that didn’t work out as planned either, yet then I will become one of those people quoting cliché’s… “Everything happens for a reason”, “Another fish in the Sea or Plenty of fish in the sea”, “Just when you stop looking…love finds you”… it’s like finding a fucking apartment in New York City.. That shit doesn’t happen easily, and it doesn’t happen without investment… like 3 months’ rent or approximately $15-20K USD. Lol. Don’t get too excited…that doesn’t include the broker fee or moving costs.

I literally had so many bad dates that I will highlight in time, I met an old colleague out for drinks and she enlightened me on her success with online dating and Tinder. So, I begin….

After several glasses of wine and tapas… the conversation moved to the new adventures of dating… We had both had bad experiences with men our own age and older, but after our storytelling… I explained… how I was literally made to feel guilty for being from one man our age because he had erectile dysfunction… he turned it around to acting like I was some sex hungry slut and if you know anything about me, well… I don’t put up with this shit…I hit back and below the belt and managed to pull out a PowerPoint quickly in my head on his inadequacies, yet explained that I dated him anyway…by this point, I knew there was no coming back. He had treated me with such ugliness to have me come back that I was beyond consoling… Then, I’d met another man my age that decided to lie about his being married, another who completely was lying about living locally and managed to tell me later it took him 4 hours to get home to Boston, as he thought that I was going to let him stay over??!?! WTF.

After these stories, she recommended that I get over the whole issue that I had with dating younger men and open my search criteria to 10 years younger and 10 years older. Me, dating younger men? Jesus, did these men really want to meet an older woman?

So, after a bottle or three of wine, I changed my Tinder settings and on the Uber ride home…. I had a series of matches with very attractive, educated men… all 10 years younger… all flirting with me….

 

Could this be the solution to my dating dilemmas? Forget the crotchety older men with families, issues and that were resentful for the uninhibited younger men that are still enjoying their lives?  J

Let the fun begin… My journey to dating younger men…..does this mean that I’m a Cougar? Meow… :

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Been a longtime gone….

It’s been awhile…. And I need to apologize for my absence.  First, I would like to personally say, “Thank you” to all of you that have reached out over the years to inquire where I went, to support my writing and to encourage me to keep writing…

No, I’m not dead, I haven’t met “The One” … I’ve continued to live in NYC, lose a few jobs, gain a few jobs, lose a few pounds, then….regain a few pounds…I’ve lost some friends and gained some new friends… had a fire in my NYC apartment, had the ceiling in my apartment literally cave in over my bed and dealt not only with a slum lord, to the extent that I had to get an attorney involved and 311, I’ve had some medical issues… some not so serious… and others…well, let’s just say that Spine surgery wasn’t a piece of cake….yet, I’ve continued to keep my wits about me. Then, there is the dating and the entire side of being single in NYC… yes, I’ve got some grand stories… and as things tend to go in my life.. the scales keep tipping in and out of favor, as do the jobs, as I continuously choose companies that seem to either get acquired, or have some truly large issues…At present, I’ve found myself again, at a crossroads…broke, healing, broken, unemployed, dating, and vulnerable to the world…  then, there is the men…they are continuously recycle and reappear… I think that I’ve withheld in telling some of these stories, not because they aren’t worthy, but as things have happened…life gets messy and with catching feelings, heartbreak and missed opportunities… so does dating and so, I’ll begin soon…and you will be a part of my new beginning, yet…. I will fill you in on what adventures you missed along the way.

 

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Chinatown & The Happy Ending…

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I should have known this was going to be a strange day….any day in New York City can turn into an adventure quickly…New York City is a bitch, but I love it.

As I stand waiting on the platform, I notice the train schedule time is not changing frequently, it’s actually saying 2 minutes, but it’s now been 5 minutes and the time is now going up. There is a strange amount of traffic walking into the subway platform, which is a bit concerning to see it filling up so fast, with no relief of a train…meanwhile, we hear a muffled message about local trains being delayed downtown. This is when simultaneously, two older men, one to my left and one to my right start screaming obscenities about the costs of the subway and the “God Damned Delay’s!! We pay money for this shitty service!” one screamed, while the other screamed, “God Damn It! I got delayed 3 times yesterday on the fucking bus!! What the hell is wrong with the MTA!?!?” and he throws his paper into the subway tracks. Note to self, do not sit next to these men.

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Meanwhile, I am monitoring the platform fill up more and more and wait patiently for the train.  It finally arrives and to my surprise, it’s not a normal 6 train with the blue newer seats…it’s one of the older subways that runs on the west side with the brown panels and orange and yellow seating, no electronic messaging or notification of the times, delays, or next stops…which means that the speaker system is not the best either. I think, “Shit, what in the hell am I doing on this train!?”

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As we finally get moving, the conductor tells us that we are now running express from 42nd to Brooklyn Bridge due to an accident at 33rd. Then, we get another message as we are being held again that there is now “No Service below 42nd on the 4, 5, or 6 trains and the train is being re-routed for uptown when we get to Grand Central!” WTF! I think to myself, “Damn…it must be a jumper”…and exit at Grand Central. I call my friend that I am meeting for lunch and tell her I’m delayed and walking there…meet me in 30 minutes, as I have to walk there.

I walk west across Bryant Park to head south to Eataly to meet my friend for lunch, when I finally make it there, this place is so fucking crowded with tourists and she is nowhere in sight. I text her and she says that, “she cannot talk now, but will call/text soon?!” WTF?!  Today has been a complete shit show…I need a drink.

When she arrives, we have a bit of a wait for the table, then I order my food with a huge glass of wine, then another.

At this point, I’m being grilled by her on the trade secrets of dating in the United States, well specifically in New York City, as she is from the Philippines.

I’m like, “well… It’s difficult to meet people at our age, let alone date.” At this point in my life, I settle for a good book, a hot bath and a bottle of wine most weekends.  However, she knows that I have been actively dating and have been in relationships, as the 2 times that we have both met and gone out, I have been involved with men. Yes, the only 2 men that I have been with in over a year happened to be timed right around the same time that she has been visiting in the New York City area.

She asks way too many questions. At some point, I tell her this. As she asks me more questions, I am reminded of needing another glass of wine. Yes, if they could pour the entire damned bottle in my glass, I’d be happy at this point.

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The constant grilling of questions is reminding me of an interview and quite exhausting. Especially, when I cannot seem to figure out the “code to dating in NYC, let alone in America.”

I have been really good at being single most of my adult life. I could be voted off the island for this, I presume. One of my guy friends, recently told me that he needed to start lying to people about being “divorced” now, as people look at him funny because he’s in his 40’s and has never been married, let alone engaged. It’s sad because I can definitely relate to his dilemma, as I’m in the same category.

After lunch, we walk down the Highline, through the West Village, The Village, and Soho and to Chinatown, where she wants to buy me a Bubble tea and the plan is for us to get cheap massages. After walking 8-10 miles today…

I think to myself…”A massage does sound nice.” In my mind, I’m thinking spa…this is where that phrase, “Little did you know” comes into play. Let the fun begin.

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We walk down Canal Street, and then we wind through the back alleys of Chinatown that I have never explored before. Imagine a fucked up maze of tiny streets with bright neon signs for massage parlors that are lit up and you know, they don’t look very clean, nor do they look very legitimate. My inner American girl that grew up in a middle class, southern/midwest family is screaming, “What the hell are you doing here!?! GO HOME!” However, she’s leading us deeper into the evasive maze and says that she always goes here when she is in New York. So, I let her lead the way.

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As we wind through the streets, we pass many massage parlors, nail salons, hair salons and etc. all on the left side of the narrow street.

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Then, we go into the smallest, thinnest store front with some strange writing on the wall and a fake rose bush on a table to the left of the hallway with a bright massage menu that I glimpse at as my friend is barking commands to the man and ladies in waiting area, that are greeting us as we walk in. The people that work here do not speak much English; they speak some words, but nod a lot; they smile and bow.

My friend seems to raise her voice louder to them acting like it makes them understand her more, since her voice is raised…this reminds me of something my mother would do and I laugh to myself.

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The girls that work here are dressed in a strange “dirty” girl kind of looking way, maybe it’s to entertain the big, older gentleman that I just saw dive into one of the stalls with a younger girl for a “massage”.

The area that you walk in has some strange pleather sofa’s to the right, then you walk through a doorway with beads, yeah beads like the 70’s draping down to a darker area with red lighting and there are strange curtains hanging up on both sides of the room separating the massage tables, I guess.

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They point me to one on the right. Mind you, it’s fucking freezing outside, so I have got a huge puffy coat, pants, sweaters, boots and etc. on and have a huge bubble tea in my hand. I walk beyond the curtain to undress and the space is obviously where they store crap, as the massage table is pushed up at the end against a small sofa with big bags all over it and shit everywhere. The massage table is so close to the curtain, that my legs hang out of it into the middle of the walkway and hands keep coming through the curtain as I undress. I place my belongings at the end of the massage table on the sofa with the other junk. The area around the table is about 6-12 inches from the wall/curtains on all sides. I finally get down to my panties and think, “Damn, whoever is massaging me must be in the Circus, as they’re going to have to trapeze into this tiny area and hang on strings to get around me to massage me! What in the hell did I agree to?!?”

Then, as I lay there practically naked, someone comes into the area around the sheet and for all that I know, my arse is possibly able to be viewed by anyone in the walk way. I’m trying to relax enough to enjoy a $40 hour full body massage.  Someone starts rubbing my back and maneuvering around the table…I’m a ball of pins & needles and I cannot relax.

In my mind, I’m thinking…”What the fuck am I doing here!? Only $40? Am I still in New York? This place is scaring the crap out of me…are these people legal? Are they slave labor? Is that grunting that I’m hearing in the other stall? For fucks sake, what have I agreed to?!”

Then, my concentration is broken by my friend yelling in the opposite stall that she needs someone new. Well, that meant that the person that she didn’t want was then exchanged with the person that I had at present, so they swapped.

Then, I get a woman…the only reason that I knew this is because she has her hair down and keeps draping it over my back as she rubs my shoulders and at some point, she directs me in a movement.Wait a minute, is there a monkey in here, someone just hoisted themselves on the table with me! What in the hell just happened?

Meanwhile, a man interrupts the massage through the curtains to ask me, “HOW LONG YOU NEED ONE HOUR?”  I reply, “Sure, whatever my friend has agreed to!” This was a strange reply that they did not understand, so they keep sending people over to ask in different ways, so I finally reply, “Yes. One Hour!” What am I doing here?

I’m being rubbed, groped, pushed and pulled all over my body and she is pulling down my panties and accidentally touching me in areas that she should not be that close to, so I keep shifting by body around the table and moving my head. Let’s just be clear, I am not here for any happy ending folks, nor do I care to get massaged in my nether region by a chick for cash. What in the hell is going on here?

After my massage is finally finished, I am shuffled out to the seating area on the pleather sofas with the strange Chinese woman that gave me the massage.She keeps showing me her hand and making a face. Apparently, she has been doing so many massages that she has injured her hand and She tells me, “You pay my boss! You pay my boss!” and then goes, “You tip me?!”

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So, I hand her a $20, and she hides it after looking around in both directions, then I sit and check my phone, foursquare, face book and wait for my friend to return and finish while listening to strange music on the sofa with this woman, while she puts on makeup and primps for the next person to enter the parlor.

As I sit there, I wonder about the big man that I saw going behind the curtain with the other young girl when we walked in, what in the hell kind of service is he getting? As, I started after and had an hour massage and I’ve been sitting here over 30 minutes now… Is this place a brothel too? Is he getting a happy ending? Gross.

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Once my friend finally comes out, she doesn’t stop there with the body massage, she has the owner giving her a 10 minute foot massage and her feet are on an ottoman, as he gets on his knees in front of her rubbing. She tells him that I need one and tells me that it’s included, I opt out, as it seems completely demeaning at this point, plus I’m ready to get the hell out of this place in fear that some authority will come in and bust it up at any moment.  I make an excuse, “that I don’t want to take off my boots again.”

After her massage, we walk through the streets and wind back to the main streets and get back to Mott Street to modern day civilization. This is when we determine that we should get some food for dinner.

We see people standing in line for dumplings and dim sum and opt for another szechuan restaurant that looks pretty popular. Again, I need to explain that I am American, now this means that I’m somewhat adventurous, but only to an extent and fish is a touchy food item for me. I love sushi, love sashimi and I love meat, but mine comes in pretty pieces, in packages in the store and etc. I think you understand.

My friend keeps asking about sharing food and I tell her that I’ll just order something, as I’m funny about eating fish. I look at the menu and it’s huge…opt for spring roll’s, something similar to Kung Pao Chicken and she orders some fish dish and other dishes.  She refers to me as such an “American”, and I think to myself, “Why yes, I am.” And I tell her about the time that someone tried slipping me some catfish to eat 20 years earlier and how upset that I was.

The spring rolls come, Dumplings come, I eat them too, then the Kung Pao dish, and I’m eating some green beans that she has ordered to share and it’s a huge plate. At this time, I have no idea what is about to happen. This little waiter comes with a HUGE platter with a WHOLE FISH ON IT and puts it in front of me, in between the two of us. Then, she looks at me and says, “Dig In!”

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My face must have said it all…the waiter cut it in the middle exposing the bones everywhere and leaves it. She asked for Soy Sauce and rips into the fish like she’s never eaten before.

First thing she eats is the entire head, face, eyes and all with soy sauce, as I watch wondering about the bones, eyes and lips…then, eats the fins and explains that in Asia, this would be something that is fought over first in a meal.

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Meanwhile, she is asking me if I want some. I reiterate that I’m funny about certain foods…fish, being one of them and the fact that she just ate the entire face off the fish…it’s messing with my appetite. You see, I’ve realized that American’s, or at the least, this one, we do not like to eat things that look back at us on the plate. I explain this to her as well, then as she goes back into the banter of asking questions about dating American & men in New York City while devouring the remainder of the fish. I am thinking to myself, I wonder if any of the men that I know and have dated would react well to someone eating a whole fish in front of them, let alone the head first. After we are finished, she had the server package up the remaining food, both the fish and the food that I had not eaten to take home with her.

This evening was good, but a very strange adventure in New York City…. When I got home, I seriously scrubbed my entire body clean in the shower to ensure that I was clean before getting into my bed for the night.

As I’m dying for another massage, I’m still not tempted to return to this land of the happy ending.

I have much to be Thankful for. Remember…It’s all about Love.

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Happy Thanksgiving…..

I have a lot to be Thankful for at present…yesterday, as I was walking into Starbucks and waiting for my Latte, I saw a man going through the trash bin on the corner of 81st/3rd Avenue… He was going through the bag that I’d just dropped in the garbage that was full of junk from my apartment. No food, just paper trash, bags and such…I was mesmerized watching him, and then…he took the bag with some of the garbage with him on his way. I realized, “Every day is a blessing and I’m Thankful that I have a roof over my head, which I have a place to sleep inside, (so does my cat) and that life is about more than the $5 drink that I’m waiting on in Starbucks.”

This year, I’ve lost my health, lost my faith, my love, my strength, my hope, gained some weight, lost my job, and felt like I was losing my mind at times. I went through 6 rounds of spinal epidural injections (wish I’d read the side effects more), served on a jury, traveled on a beach trip alone, made new friends, lost some friends, encouraged growth in others and in myself, lost myself and found myself…did I mention that I lost love too and am in the process of finding it again.

I put up my tree in my tiny apartment the other night and it’s made me so happy to just watch the lights, but it also could be from the wine that I’ve been drinking… or the Prosecco that I’m drinking right now, as I write and am awaiting my Thanksgiving feast to be ready. I made a turkey breast, stuffing, my amazing homemade garlic mashed potatoes, and I have gravy and vegetables to make. All for just me. Plus, I bought a pumpkin pie to take part in later…that was the hardest thing not to dive into before my meal. I love Pumpkin Pie.

I read that if Pumpkin Pie is your favorite pie that means that you’re very attractive… hahaha. I will take it.  Yes, I’m alone today for the holiday, I did not get up and venture out in the cold weather to watch the parade, but I stayed in my apartment to make dinner and relax today.  I wasn’t invited anywhere for the holiday and to be honest, I don’t think that I would’ve gone to anyone’s house anyhow, as I like my own cooking and really was looking forward to my time alone. I’ve received tons of texts, a facetime call with my niece in Texas, spoke on the phone with my mother in Texas and even sent a recipe over Facebook to a family friend for my mashed potatoes.

One of the highlights is that my hickeys are finally healing and with knowing the man is definitely on my mind that gifted them to me, it has been a strange beginning, yet nothing with him has been normal. Our first date was over 3 years ago. Since seeing him a week and a half ago, I’ve not really heard much from him…yet, today…I got a, “Happy Thanksgiving” text from him, which was very sweet and I guess in man language, it means that he’s still thinking of me and all is not lost in the land of a new beginning with this man. Why do we over analyze these little things?!

The quote for he and I would be, “You can’t rush something that you want to last forever.”

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My thoughts are positive. However, I’m not thinking he’s my forever, but am grateful to be open to love again after the past year, anything positive in my life makes me grateful. This could be the beginning of some kind of Wonderful. See. I think that I’m finding “hope” again, as well as my belief in love. My therapist recently told me that he finally see’s me opening up more again and showing more faith in love in my life.

I am Thankful for just having some good coming my way on this great holiday… I have much to be Thankful for.  Remember…It’s all about Love.

I’m like the Psychic that will guide you on your life, but can’t read my own cards…

 

 

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So, it’s confession time. At present, I’m a closet writer that used to write for a release, but was apparently trapped under a refrigerator for the past few years…while working in a Consulting role in technology and selling myself out to the lifestyle of 50-60hour work weeks, depending on online dating sites to help remind me that I needed to be “available” to date, and trying to keep up with my friends and having a social life outside of the office, while commuting almost 3hours/day back and forth. Damn…I’m tired. I’m currently unemployed, as my contract ended with tragedy to the project, which is sad, but I’m surviving, and interviewing for new positions, which itself is literally just like online dating and at present, I’m stifled by the similarities. I am a Technology Recruiter… so, I get it, but people ask me to stop by just to “see me in person” to “make sure I’m presentable”. Now, not going to name any places, but I’ve been working with a large Cosmetic’s company for the past 2 years…within start up’s and management consulting, high level communications companies…all in HR and TA… (Talent Acquisition) not “Tit’s and Ass”, but if I wasn’t presentable…I wouldn’t have been placed on the front line to attract candidates in the first place. So, it is what it is….I do the “dog and pony show… do a few tricks, fake the laughter, smile’s and try to make a connection… otherwise, I’m a master of the game.. And I know how it’s supposed to be played.” Too bad that this doesn’t necessarily transfer over to my dating life…I’m like the psychic that will guide you on your future, cards, life, how many children that you will have; however, I live in a trailer, 3 kids, divorced and barely making ends meet. I cannot read my own cards… lol. It’s like that as a Recruiter… I guide people on hiring decisions, but the funniest part is, I need to apply these principles to my dating life… walk away when my gut instinct tells me to. However, like I was telling my therapist…. I seem to have great intuition, I just manage to second guess it, keep going and end up in a comedy of errors with my dating life… So, I’m unemployed now and while I’m interviewing for new positions, I have found myself with time to write and capture my stories that my friend’s and my therapist have been telling me for years to write and capture of my days of living in New York City, especially the dating one’s to share with all… as they’re that good and amusing… bear with me, as I’m reminiscing through and trying to go back and write them to publish. May the road go on forever and the party never end…

Haha

Yeah. Fucking crystal ball

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