Dont Mince Words

Not a dick pic!

Nothing makes me feel more alive than visiting New York. It also gives me an excuse to wear all my black t-shirts.

After I arrived in Penn Station, I helped five people with directions. I told the last person I had not lived there since 2003. “Wow, you just really look like you know what you are doing…like you live here.” That’s probably the best compliment you can give someone who has moved away and misses elements of New York.

I was above ground less than 30 minutes, walking down 14th Street, when a guy six feet away from me says, “Wow, you are a MILF. I need to get to know you.” While I am no mother, I will happily own the F part of that acronym. We exchanged numbers, I suggested getting a drink, and he said he’d text me (like a good Millennial would).

This small act by a horny Brazilian boy reminded me what I miss most about New York – real men. Men who do not hide behind screens but actually nut up and talk. It’s refreshing. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard similar stories from girlfriends who visit New York. Invisible in one place – noticed in another.

I didn’t expect boy to text me, but he did the next day. We didn’t connect for that drink and he said he was “sorry” that I didn’t live there.

Several days later I was back in Richmond trying to enjoy my first Tinder date. It was over when he whipped out his phone to show me photos all his grandchildren. I’ve reconciled where I live. I haven’t quite accepted the dating pool I have to work with.

The welcome to Virginia sign was a relief after traversing Tennessee.  While Virginia may be open for business, I hope Virginia also has jobs and single, emotionally evolved men over the age of consent.

Dixie and I travelled 2900 miles and everyone was right – as long as she was with me, she was fine.  She looked forward to hotel rooms.  In fact, in our last one, we had to get two queens instead of a king and she ran in and jumped from one bed to another like a four-year old.  Most of the time her dinner was served in the back seat at a rest area.  She didn’t care.  The car was home base and it was on the move.

I’m thankful I had warm weather for our trip.  The same areas we passed through now have ice and snow.  It was a journey I’ll never forget.  I’d like to thank my friends for digitally cheering me on and others for calling to ensure I was safe.  We did fine and now I know – Dixie is a traveller and I was a long-haul trucker in a another life.  Would I do it again?  No, driving long distance through three time zones is not romantic.

Once I got to my friend’s house in Richmond, she told me her dog had fleas.  I figured that out about three hours after my arrival when Dixie was rubbing her muzzle on the bed.  That evening I couldn’t sleep because Dixie was groaning and shaking her bed with the scratching.  I could feel the critters on me and running in my hair.  The next day, bombing and dipping occurred but there were still die hards around.  By Monday I was at the vet and discovered Dixie is allergic to fleas and the vet stated that the house had a severe infestation that was probably present since the summer.  A professional extermination was necessary.  Between that and an un-housebroken Yorkie,  I went home, gave my roommate notice and moved out two days later.

After 17 loads of de-flea laundry, dry cleaning, pills, baths, and sprays, I am now home.  Dixie and I are pest-free and happy.  NOW I’m open for business.

Did you hear that?  It’s my labia clapping because I’m leaving Santa Barbara.  My days in the land of college students and retirees are ending which means my dating life will come off life support.

I can laugh about dating in Los Angeles, but Santa Barbara has been the worst experience in my adult life.  There’s a handful of age- and height-appropriate men.  Toss in education and I’ve got about six men in a 30-mile radius I could date.  There are a fair share of freaks here too.  I can honestly say I was approached by two, yes 2, cross-dressers who liked my online profile because I looked “fun and open-minded.”  As much as it would be awesome to have someone to do my makeup, I can’t date anyone that has better legs than me.  My other notable experience was dating an old guy.  It was my first experience in the presence of Viagra.  I never thought I’d ever say “oh, no, not again” while in bed, but I know now that I’d rather be sawed in half by a drunk guy.  At least you know he’s going to eventually puke or pass out.

My layoff has prompted drastic life changes.  I’ve decided to move back to Richmond, Virginia – a town I left more than 15 years ago to begin my post-divorce “I want to experience everything tour.”  Now I’m going back because I need to be surrounded by good friends and enjoy a sensible cost of living.  And dating?  Yeah, I’ll get back on that horse.  It can only get better.