The Chili Parlor Incident

Close Encounter, Part II

In a previous blog,  "Relationship C.V.",  I discussed a few of my less-than-successful relationships.  Partly for entertainment purposes (admit it, you like to hear about other people's failures), but also to point out my knowledge of relationships.  These were relationships that didn't go the distance. This time I want to tell about a "near miss." A situation where I had the intention of starting a relationship, but it just never got off the ground.

This might be a continuation of sorts, maybe a series, as I also previously mentioned an encounter with a woman and how a music video actress reminded me of her. That incident (Close Encounters, Part I) could easily be labeled a "near miss" too because I was a misplaced phone number away from dating her.

When you think about a near miss, you can't really claim it is good or bad. This is because you can't predict the future or tell how the possible relationship would have turned out. You could have gone on and married the woman or just as easily she could have knifed you in the back in a fit of rage over one of your bad habits. It's fun to think about the possibilities though.


Years ago my roommate and I (I'm a frugal guy, so had a roommate to save money back then) had a habit of hitting the Texas Chili Parlor.  A great dive/bar famous for it's XXX chili. Yes, I would occasionally try the triple, it tasted great, but you obviously pay a taste bud price for the heat.

However, we didn't go for the chili, we went for the "Magnums." These were just rum, Coke and lime (yeah a Cuba Libra), but they used a great name to draw us in to imbibe. Or was it my roommate who made up that name?

So on one excursion a new waitress, Nancy, caught my eye. She was a petite blonde with incredible eyes, but more importantly, she not only put up with us two obnoxious guys, she seemed to like us.

When I say obnoxious, I don't mean the type who makes snide remarks about the wait staff or gets in fights with other customers. No, we were the types who spoke too loud, thought we were clever (although the comments were more weird then witty), and who tended to not leave. That's right, we stayed until they put the chairs on the tables and mopped around our feet. Sometimes the staff would say something, but usually, they just tried to drop coy hints (the chairs, mopping, etc.). After all, we were really good customers.

So Nancy put up with the goofy banter and also would join in sometimes. Slowly, but surely, I think my attempts to get her to pay attention to me beyond customer status began to pay off. I could tell because she began to tell us something about her personal life, even if we didn't ask.

Okay, you are probably asking "why didn't you pounce right away" after she began to make more obvious signs. However, first off remember the blog about signs.  Women can sometimes give really misleading signs (not to be confused with the blog about women misleading men).

Second, most of us realize that waitresses are trained in "professional courtesy." This tactic utilizes various techniques from the easy (smiling politely) to the ultimate (the "I'm a good buddy" technique).  So when I attempt to make first contact with a waitress, I'm a little more cautious about jumping in with my heart. Sure, maybe I'm a little shy too.

Finally, after numerous weeks of going to the Texas Chili Parlor, drinking way too many Magnums and gently prodding her to garner interest, I decided to dive in full steam. I'd ask her for her phone number.  On our third drink I told my roommate about my plan. As I rushed to finish my drink so we could call her over, I could see him thinking this over deeply. Oh sure, I should have seen the warning signs. For either of us, drinking a lot and thinking deeply was not a good combination.

I waved at Nancy and got her to come over.

"I wonder if you'd give me your phone number so I could call you sometime and maybe we could go try out some other place sometime or something sometime, you know." (What? you thought I had a smooth line? You haven't been reading these blogs).

Nancy smiled broadly, but before she could even begin to tell me her number—and I'm absolutely sure she was about to—my roommate blurted out: "No, what would be better is for you to give her your number and then she can call you when she wants."

Taken aback, she blinked unknowingly, not sure what to make of this. I on the other hand, having consumed several strong drinks (if they liked you, your drinks were stronger than normal) thought that maybe my roommate had a great solution. Maybe he had figured out the right scenario for this situation and wanted me to take advantage of it. I thought this even though he hadn't had a girlfriend in years and was not known as a person to seek out dates. He was basically the perpetual "Wing Man." So of course, I gave her my number. We had a few more drinks then stumbled home.

You know the outcome of this already though. I've mentioned this countless times with different links leading to verification that women do not make first contact. After a few weeks we went back to the Texas Chili Parlor and learned she had moved on. No one knew where she moved to, although they were sure she still lived in town. It didn't matter though as even if I had know where she worked now, it would be like starting over.

 

Possible outcomes from a near miss relationship

So once again, another near miss that could have lead to something really great. Oh, I could blame my roommate (notice how I have yet to say his name) but as I mentioned, since we don't know the future he might have also saved me from a grisly death.  Therefore I just look at this as another adventure on the relationship battlefront of the War Between Men and Women.

(This has nothing to do with the blog; it's just included to inflame those radical feminists who are stalking me and hate it when I include pictures of provocative females)

Cover Up!

Yet another Thurber Brigade Side-Step

Right before the release of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE, I did a lot of promotion activities to get people interested in the book. This included Twitter tweets (w/pix) such as:

 Coming soon to eBook stores: SEX! (well, SEX and the AMERICAN MALE) A funny, satirical book, sadly, w/o SEX

And also FaceBook posts like this:

Very soon, you'll be able to buy SEX online! That's right, my next book is called: SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. So soon you'll be able to tell your friends that you got SEX for less than 2 bucks! ($1.99).

Almost immediately I began to face online assaults by a few radical feminists who had been stalking me online. I think they had become inflamed after my blog about women drivers.  They sent me tweets like this:

 

Apparently they thought I was promoting sex to the students I advise. I mean real sex, not my book SAM (my abbrev. for the book).  They hadn’t bothered to read any of my posts which clearly stated what I was pitching, nor read some of the details of the upcoming release.

I also discovered that they had also impugned one of my previous eBooks TAX BREAK because it has a racy cover.

I assume (I have done my best not to contact them to verify) that they didn’t like the image of a semi-nude female on the cover. Even though you don’t see the naughty bits (clever Monty Python reference) it must have inflamed their feminist angst that tells them any time a man uses an image of a female it is sexist.

Now, I’ve already blogged about how many people don’t seem to understand the difference between Sexism and Sexuality. So I won’t rehash that, but I will point out that some of the steamiest book covers come from the fertile minds of women.  Do radical feminists get upset with pictures of a semi-nude Fabio? I doubt it.

So anyway, to hammer the point home, here are a few book covers by women. I promote them on Twitter, so encourage you to check them out and buy them, but I think you’ll get my point. Yes, some include pictures of women as well as men in provocative poses. 

So SEX and the AMERICAN MALE seems rather tame to me. You should pick up a copy though, for although it might not have any hot, steamy sex scenes, it is pretty funny.

(some images courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)

What did he say?

Okay, admittedly it's been a bit since The Thurber Brigade traveled down the path of relationships, but bear with me for one more blog about SEX. 

Of course, by that I mean SEX and the AMERICAN MALE.  For those who skipped the last blog (shame on you by being scared by the title), here's a little description:

Take a zany trip through American culture all within the pages of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. Zack Hardiman loses his mind one day after he discovers he doesn't own a single T-shirt or magazine that isn't covered with advertising. After a short rehabilitation in Doctor Thomas’ World Famous Mellow Recovery Sanctuary, he begins an adventure to explore American life and soon discovers how advertising, politics and mindless sloganeering permeates and controls every aspect of our lives.

In SEX and the AMERICAN MALE everything is fair game in this quick, fun read as the author parodies and satirizes everything from America's fascination with massive gas-chugging autos to science fiction conventions.

Makes you want to log on to Amazon.com right now and buy it, doesn't it? Whatever.

That was a sly nod to the book by the way. I throw in a "whatever" now and then as a slight stab at Americans who use it relentlessly and usually as a form of conversational surrender.

The real purpose of this blog though, is so I can make up all sorts of silly statements readers of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE can make by being in possession of this funny, thigh slapping tome (did that description convince you to buy? Just $2 at Barnes & Noble)

Once you get SEX you will be able to impress your friends by saying:

• “Yes, I really enjoyed SEX last night.”
• "Sex last night was fantastic!"
• "Of course I enjoyed SEX on my flight to LA."
• "I have a little SEX every night right before turning off the light."

You can also try to make those relatives you are not fond of having over feel a little uneasy by casually saying these phrases:

• "My friends and I really enjoyed SEX last night—together."
• "My biker boyfriend and I so enjoyed SEX this afternoon, we may tackle it again tonight after you leave."
• "I laughed a lot during SEX the other evening. Your daughter did too."
• "The cops would probably be upset if they knew I was enjoying SEX while driving."

As you see, the funny and maybe a little bizarre statements you can make if you own a copy of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE are endless.  So buy a copy today (still just $2 at KOBO) and come up with your own SEX phrases.

Oh, did I mention the SEX FaceBook page? Surf over to it today and "like" SEX.

An Apology: I want to take this final moment to apologize to those readers who believe I am making fun of them because they might be a little queasy about seeing and reading the word SEX over and over.  Or to those who think I'm using it as a blatant ploy (like the advertisers I chide in the book) to get people to read this blog.  I am of course, but nevertheless, sorry.

SEX! This blog is all about SEX!

The Thurber Brigade takes another side step

Okay, this blog isn’t really about SEX. I’m sorry if I have evilly lured you in by using SEX in bold nearly ever sentence and in the title.  Why, it’s almost as if I’m using the word SEX to try to get people to do something like read my blog. Yeah, that’s evil.  I’m really writing about:

That’s right, I have a new eBook coming out shortly titled SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. It’s a humorous, satirical book about American culture and the running joke is that the author (me) keeps mentioning SEX all the time to make a point.

Here’s a snippet of the book’s description:

SEX and the AMERICAN MALE is a satirical jab at how advertising, politics, greed and more overwhelm the public and shape our society. This humorous book parodies everything from advertisements that use sex to sell massive gas-guzzling cars to mindless political parties and juiced-up science fiction conventions.

In other words, SEX sells.  Advertisers know that we humans, especially us male humans, are driven crazy by SEX.  Just seeing the word SEX makes us start to fantasize about all sorts of things and so they’ll use it to link to their product. So you may now be thinking about SEX, but also in your subconscious is that fancy new auto or beer. That’s why they don’t use Martha your 6^th grade teacher as a model in their ads, they use Bridget, the wafer-thin sex-pot model in a bikini.

Even though the woman actually sitting next to you in the car will invariably look more like Martha, the ad will still use Bridget to lure you in and seal the deal.

However, I don’t just make fun of advertising in SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. I also skewer greedy corporations, all the political parties and politics, mass consumerism, American greed, and of course, everyone’s short attention span.

HEY! SEX! No jumping over to that other person’s blog. Sheesh. I’m almost done you can hang around a little longer.

Anyway, I even wrap up the thing with “Clif Notes” (yes, I purposely misspelled that) to make fun of those of us who would look for a shortcut to reading the book we’re assigned in English class. In other words, I sort of spill the beans about what the book is about in my “Clif Notes.”

Two other great parts about the book:

1) I start the thing with an Ode to Douglas Adams. I began this book as a tribute to him, a sort of “Hitchhikers guide to American Culture.” With luck, the ode even sounds like his style of writing.

2) One of the main characters, and probably the most honest, is a group of microbes who make the main character go crazy. I even gave them their own chapter.  You’ll love them too after you read about them break dancing around, drinking Pepsis and singing in high pitched voices. Ahhh.

So be on the lookout for SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. It’ll be on sale shortly at all those fine eBook seller websites and will cost you less than $2!

Plus, once you buy a copy, you’ll be able to tell your friends things like:

“Yes, I enjoyed SEX last night.”

Or allude you’ve joined the “Mile High” club:

“Man, did I enjoy SEX on my last flight to LA.”

So get you some real soon.

I had to include a least one picture like this because, well, I always do. Plus, you are not going to find any in SEX and the American Male. You should buy it anyway.

(some images courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)

You lookin' at me?

Recently, a number of females complained about guys making rude remarks to them when they walked by (ie catcalls)and about guys staring too long at them. It reminded me how once again women just don't understand the nature of male/female interaction. This isn't just a case of men being boorish. This is all about how men must initiate contact. Yes, it all boils down to the fact that men must make the first contact.

 Think about it. We've actually come a long way from ancient times. Back in those days a guy would see a female he thought attractive, kill the man with her and drag her back to his cave or hut. Over time as humans became more civilized, and made laws against murder, it became more regimented. From arranged marriages to mail order brides. In modern times it has come down to men having to somehow convince the female to go back to his cave/hut by use of language and guile.

Oh, sure, those guys making garish catcalls are pretty lame (to put it mildly). However it really is just a case where they are not very subtle. Most men, although they may be thinking along the same lines (oh, what a babe) have become more refined over the years and if really interested will throw a line that might be more acceptable (need some help with those bags, ma'am?). So in other words, some men are crude, some are more, well, subtle.

 I have always thought that guys who resort to using rude remarks or catcalls are just very desperate and their sex drive has overridden their common sense. They are so in need of female contact that they almost revert to their ancient selves but instead of dragging the female off, try to lure her to their arms by playing to their vanity: "oh, babe, you're hot." No, it’s not smart, but their brains have been taken over by the overwhelming desire for sex.

In other words, yes I think the Masters & Johnson nonsense about how women have just as much drive for sex as men is goofy. That may be another blog down the trail, but just think about this: why are there millions of topless bars, porn mags, etc aimed at men, but just a handful for women?

So the male is thinking about sex all the time. Sometimes it gets so bad that the male can't help himself and just blurts out whatever is on his mind as a cute female walks by.

Staring at women is the same thing. We know that women won't make the first move; we know that they think we have ESP and can read their minds when they are interested; we know that instead of just talking to us, they'll try to drop some unfathomable hints. So the male is left to trying to express his interest. If he doesn't think that saying something will get her interested or let her know he's interested, he will instead resort to staring just a little too long.

The female though, unless the guy is a rock or movie star, will just think the guy is a creep and hurry on.  And who wouldn’t? It’s a testosterone thing for us men. Women may feel it’s creepy, but if a guy stares at another guy too long it’s a prelude to a fight.

“You lookin’ at me?"

(I've been waiting to get DE Niro in this blog for some time)

  

So the staring is one more example of the male’s brain being overwhelmed by the desire for sex and resorting to it’s prehistoric antics. No, not smart but some men just can't override the impulses their brain keeps sending their way.

Oddly, this sort of behavior received an almost idolized and accepted reverence back in the 1930’s and 40s. Just rewatch some of the old movies and musicals of the time where you’d hear lyrics like “There is nothing like a dame,” or whole scenes of sailors staring and catcalling relentlessly on the streets of NYC. Just like today, in those the more civil guys (usually businessmen in suits and hats) would scowl at the behavior, but held the same thoughts as they rushed off to work.

 So yes, this overt male reaction to females is rude, garish, disgusting and less than civil, but it’s just more of a case of testosterone and sex drive taking over the male. In many ways, it’s similar to an earlier blog about men who get rowdy and women looking down on the behavior. Once again, its women who get to decide what is civil behavior even though it’s ingrained in the male psyche.

So the likelihood of this behavior disappearing any time soon is pretty remote. The best response for a female to this behavior is to tell the guy that certain orangutans are more sexy than the offending dude, and walk on. In the future, maybe centuries from now after women have become braver and more willing to take the first move we’ll see roles reverse. Or is that just science fiction/wishful thinking?

Future times?

(some images courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)

Relationship C.V.

People ask me all the time, why do I write a blog largely dealing with relationships. Or more to the point, they say: “what makes you an expert on relationships?”

Of course, I often just reply that they could ask the same of any advice columnist (this is NOT an advice column, btw) or female writer who does the same. However, I prefer to mention that my resume is pretty extensive.

Yes, I’ve had a ton of relationships.

Some were great, some not so great, some were lousy, some were really, really lousy. So for all of those out there saying the same thing as they read yet another communiqué from the front of The War Between Men and Women, let me tell you about some of those lousy ones.

Oh, I could tell you about the good ones, but no one wants to read about those. I remember as a child taking a vacation with the parents and stopping at some roadside attraction to watch a man wrestle a crocodile. What he said before he began has stuck with me over the years. In his Aussie accent he said:

“I know you’re coming here to see this croc bite me leg off. I mean, even I go to the circus not to watch the high wire act succeed, but to watch them tumble. Let me assure you though mates, that today, this croc ain’t going to bite me at all.”

In other words, we don’t want to see cars traveling along a highway. We want to see a horrific car crash with 50+ vehicles stacked upon each other.

One relationship I really remember happened when my girlfriend and I were moving beyond second base. Or at least, I was trying to move beyond. As we lay on the bed, both of us with our tops off and running our hands over each others exposed skin, I made a slight detour south. As my fingers gently strolled below the waistband of her panties, she grabbed my hand and stared into my eyes intently:

“No, I’m a virgin and a Christian.”

I knew she wasn’t the former, and didn’t think the latter really mattered as if you read the Bible carefully, you’ll note there’s a lot of sex in there. But she could not be persuaded otherwise and saying “Me too” didn’t seem to change things at all.  Yes, that relationship went downhill from there.

On another occasion, with a different girlfriend, we walked up to the door of her place and stopped. It had been a fairly pleasant evening. We had gone to Esther’s Follies, a hilarious improv establishment here in Austin. While there, we did run into a mutual male friend, and it did bother me a little that she seemed willing to have a long conversation with him. He even seemed puzzled by this, but I didn’t say anything as it was early in the relationship and I didn’t want to ruin my chances. So after this fun night together, standing at her door, I slowly leaned forward to kiss her goodnight.

She suddenly vaulted back against the door, eyes wildly staring at me and her hand extended into my chest. It had been as if she thought I was the Boston Strangler about to slaughter another victim.

“What are you doing!” She demanded.

“Uh, um” I cleverly replied.

Okay, I was pretty young then and not such a smooth talker (still not the latter).

I finally got some composure and mentioned that I was just trying to kiss her goodnight.

“What do you think this is?” she asked, still in shock, still ready to spring forward and attack this wanton villain who had cornered her.

“Um, uh, a date?” Yeah, smooth.

She apparently didn’t think that was the case and promptly retreated into her abode. I believe that was our last “date.”

Speaking of speaking, I remember the time out with another Ex and she inquired why I didn’t talk much.

“I’m a writer, not a talker,” I replied.

This was years after the previous encounter and I had become better at responding to women, but apparently not that much better. Truthfully, I can’t say that she was that talkative either, but this is a typical complaint we guys get from women all the time. For the most part, until the relationship is truly on solid ground, it is up to the male to keep things going. Even conversation. So it usually entails us asking questions of the female, and the female responding. After the relationship is to their liking, they tend to take over the conversation and we’re not required to respond as much. This relationship hadn’t gotten to that point. She did hang around another month or so, but as you guessed, this didn’t go much further.

The final encounter I want to mention deals with something that happens to all men. No, it doesn’t concern use of the little blue pill. It is about how men are more prone to action, while women seem to be more excited about words. That’s right, I’m talking about show versus tell.  Men believe that you can show your emotions and feelings by the way we act. Women think that you need to express those emotions or feelings.

In this one relationship, we had this discussion many times. I always liked to point out that Ronald Reagan (yes, I love making political points) would often say one thing, but actually do something else. You know, something like, oh, he hated terrorists, but then would arm right-wing Nicaraguan militias.  Or that trickle-down economics would help the poor. Well, you get my drift.

Anyway, one night after a pretty nice love-making session, my girlfriend turned to me and made the “I love you” announcement. I smiled and hugged her tightly and kissed her passionately. Yes, she had said the words and I showed the proof.

As you can guess, that wasn’t enough. That relationship lasted a few more months but soon we went our separate ways.

I’ve had relationships that lasted years, months, and some that lasted mere days.  Yes, I've seen it all. I won't say I'm not discriminating, but I have been with all size, shape, temperament, attitude and belief of female. So when someone asks me why I think I can write about men and women, besides the line I used at the beginning, I can always point out that I’m a seasoned pro.  I’ve been in the trenches in this game for a long time.

No, I may not be the best person to talk about relationships, but then also, who would have thought a two-bit B-movie actor would win two terms in office as President?   So guess I’ll just keep writing about the differences and similarities of the two species, er, genders dominating this planet.

The Never Ending Relationship Quest

(images courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)