Tuesday, November 27, 2012

When preshrunk isn't OR Cockblocked by boogers. And a lisp.

Is it Tuesday already? Sheesh! I guess so. And since I'm working on this whole 'consistency' thing, here is another installment of Taco Tuesday - Taco Time Revealed!

We are now up to this lovely little snippet:

"... a lisping, basement-dwelling booger man..."

"As my Grandpappy Ole Reliable used to say... I don't recollect I've ever mentioned Old Reliable before."

"Aye, ye have, laddie."

(Anyone know what that's from? Sorry, just watched it and couldn't get it out of my head. So there. Now it's out. Moving on...)

As I have mentioned before, I have in my past been quite the frequenter of the interwebs dating sites. Most of the men in Taco Time - maybe all but two, and the Storks - were men I met online. (Ha! I like that. "The Storks" sounds like a 50's band name. Might have toured with The Turtles or The Birds. Later on possibly The Stray Cats? ADD this morning anyone? Hey, look at that! Shiny!) There were a couple not completely ridiculous prospects in that lot, but for the most part there was a reason they were "wookin pa nub" (anyone? come one, that's an awesome one!) online.

This particular fella was one I met on... Yahoo personals, I think? Before it went defunct and merged with Match. Sad that I even know about that. And it's dates me. And not in the cool datey way. Plus that would be weird. Anyway... We used to chat on messenger, I remember, and had lots of good chats. Aren't they always? It might just be me, but at this point I'm thinking I could probably have "lots of good chats" with a rock. Maybe I should look into that. But yes... lots of chats, his personality seemed perfectly amenable to a least the idea of a date. Perhaps lunch? Nothing daunting. And he lived not far at all from where I did. So it was settled. After probably not nearly enough time we decided that a lunch date was in order. La Rancherita, a little homestyle mexican restaurant, a home town fave, if you will, and close to both our houses, is where we decided upon.

Now mind you, I did not know what this man looked like. Apparently I was trying out this whole "get to know the person before you judge by their looks" philosophy? Poppycock, in retrospect. As I walk into the restaurant, my eyes are immediately drawn to who I hope is not - but very obviously is - my lunch date.

La Rancherita is miniscule. He saw me. There was no turning tail to run. I mean, I could have, but that would have been mean. Funny as hell, but mean. So I muster my best pretend smile and take my seat across from him in the booth. I don't remember how he had described himself, but I'm pretty sure "fat guy in a little shirt" was nowhere in the description. He was wearing a long sleeve thermal top underneath a far too tight t-shirt. He had glasses, and behind them his eyes made him look like a sugar glider. At least that's how my mind sees it now. Haha... The best is yet to come, though.

As we sat there chatting, waiting for our food, I found myself mesmerized by this man. Not for any good reason, mind you. Well, maybe a good reason. As he spoke, I couldn't help but notice that his tongue almost completely filled the all the empty space in his mouth. It seemed to almost spill out from his teeth as he spoke, and because of it he had an odd sort of lisp. Fat tongue. Not on my list of manly "must haves".

And then there was the bat.

Unable to take my eyes off of him, I began to notice a slight flutter north of the lip region. A bat in the cave. A loose bogey flapping insanely out of control inside his left nostril. That dry flutterer must have had stick-tights for fingers because it waved frantically the whole time he spoke without dislodging itself. I COULD NOT look away. Not now. Not ever. And the best part? By the end of the lunch the right nostril let a bat fly of his own, and I had now embarked upon Booger Watch 2009. It was dueling banjos of the mucosal variety.

Thankfully, food arrived and was eaten in a timely fashion and I had "somewhere that I needed to go". He walked me out, we hugged (yeah, I even hug booger men, apparently. I'm convinced it's a disease) and went our separate ways. Minutes later, probably just after my sigh of relief that the debacle was over, he instant messaged me to tell me how great a time he had and how much he wanted to kiss me. Ok, so add delusional to this man's list of completely resistable traits.

We never spoke again. There is a God.

El fin.

As always, friends - all 3 of you, and Dad (hi, Dad!) - thanks for reading. Stay tuned for next Taco Tuesday. I'll be imparting valuable information on what really gets chicks hot. (Hint: grab a lighter.)

Love you all...


NEXT TACO TIME: Why internet dating is so hot OR Foreplaying with fire

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