Summer, Sailors and Snowballs.

It was a hot summer night – The bestie and I were out in Belltown, on our way to meet up with friends. We were only two blocks away from our destination when I stopped dead in my tracks, grabbed Stella’s arm and pointed about a block down the street. A giant insta-grin was plastered across my face. “Oh. My. God…Stella look, SAILORS!”

Man-o-man, am I a sucker for a guy in uniform. There’s just something about the clean cut, polished look of a man’s suit that really revs my engine. Decked out from head to toe in crisp white uniforms and blue ascot ties. They even had those cute little sailor hats to complete the look…you know the ones I’m talking about. ;) My excitement was probably comparable to that of a 5 year-old kid in a candy store, but I didn’t care. Stella just laughed at me and pulled me along, insisting that there would be more sailors when we reached our destination.

We made it to the bar and were catching up with friends over a few tasty bevies. Stella and I were having a good time, but I was getting antsy because about an hour had passed since we arrived and there was not a sailor in sight. Boooo. I was a tad disappointed…until about 5 minutes later, that is. I looked up to see six white and black hats float in over the crowd of heads. Eeeek, sailors! I elbowed Stella and quickly skirted my way across the room, strategically placing myself between the group of sailors and the bar. One of them caught my eye with a smiling nod. He made his way over to me, and without a hello or even an introduction, he picked up my beverage and said, “You could use another drink.” Complete with a wink. Holy smokes, it was all so simple. But he was smooth.

Sandy brown hair and deep brown eyes. He was wearing a perfectly tailored, white uniform set with gold buttons and a high collar. If that wasn’t enough, he was Canadian…which meant the ever so slight hint of an accent (another weakness of mine). Damn it. I was a goner. After a little introductory chitchat, we grabbed our drinks and sat down to talk. At some point in the evening, Stella made her exit to meet up with her boyfriend, but I stayed behind. I was having waaaay too good of a time getting to know this bloke; no way was I going home early.

Canada and I chatted until it was nearly last call. It turns out that we had sat there talking for over two hours!! He was funny, and I felt really comfortable with him for some reason (Which could have entirely been due to the uniform. Who knows?)…In either case, I was intrigued.

Like a ‘gent, he escorted me home…where a make out sesh may (or may not) have ensued...I never kiss and tell…ok, well within reason at least. ;)

The next morning, I woke up like a bolt at 7:00am. Getting swept up in the events of the evening, I had completely forgotten that I left my car parked downtown. Crap. I guess flirting with cute sailors tends to sidetrack me…Oopsies #1. Now after 3+ years of being besties, I am well aware of the fact that Stella is NOT a morning person…as such, I’ve learned to wake her up VERY carefully and with extreme caution. I quietly tiptoed into her room and asked her to give me a lift downtown so that I could fetch my car before it was towed…oh yeah, and because I needed to give the sailor, that was still in my bed, a ride back to his ship…errr…Oopsies #2. That woke Stella up fast. She was laughing hysterically, but as any true bestie would, she gave me (or rather, us) a ride. Love her. Shortly after, I dropped Canada back at his ship and we said our goodbyes. I wasn’t entirely proud of myself for letting him spend the night, but I settled with the fact that I was probably his “Seattle Fling” and could have bet money that I would never ever see or hear from him again. Boy, was I wrong.

Side note. Since this entire shenanigan took place over Sea Fair Weekend; I should also mention that Canada’s ship was in port with a number of other fleets to celebrate the coinciding Fleet Week. That’s right ladies: Seattle was taken over for an entire weekend by hundreds of foreign sailors. Women everywhere were ecstatic.

To my surprise, I got a text from Canada the next afternoon. He was still in town, and the weather was great, so we made plans to meet up and go to Golden Gardens. I almost didn’t recognize him in his civilian get-up, but he was still as charming as ever. We sat on the beach, watched the sunset and just talked for hours. Canada kept me laughing and the conversation rolled on so smoothly, nothing felt forced. I felt so at ease with him around. So comfortable…Before I knew it nearly 5 hours had flown by. I couldn’t believe it – this felt like it was straight out of a RomCom.

Despite my attraction to Canada, I pleaded with myself to be realistic…after all, this guy went against two of my biggest rules:

1)      He was from Canada (I don’t do long distance, let alone INTERNATIONAL), and

2)      He was in the Navy (For a multitude of reasons, I refuse to date military).

My head was saying one thing, but my heart was shouting another. Let’s be real though, who was I kidding?! I was dunzo from the moment he kissed me. Rules and all, right out the window. *sigh*

Fast forward one month. Summer was coming to a close, and Canada and I had managed to keep in touch. Facebook, texts, the occasional phone call…things were light, but I was happy with that. Like a foolish imbecile I was starting to toy with the idea, “Where this could all go?” Realistically, it was all I could do to not smack myself. I knew this could never go anywhere meaningful. I knew I was only setting myself up for a very painful failure. Yet that stupid “What If?” factor kept me idiotically optimistic.

After awhile, we made plans for me to come visit him so that I could have a tour of everything Canadian. I was getting more and more excited to see him. By the time I set foot on his home turf, I was beside myself with giddiness.

He picked me up in the most outrageous lime green rental car, with a huge grin on his face. God, it was sooo good to see him again. I could feel it – This was going to be one amazing weekend. As I got in the car he said, “Welcome to Canada: Here is your customary Tim Horton’s coffee, honey crueler annnnndddd snowball.” Plop. He put that snowball right in my hand, and all I could do was laugh. Seriously?? Of all things, this dude’s handing me a frozen ball of snow as a greeting. Thinking about it still makes me smile.

He stuck to the Canada theme to a “T” – a hockey game, Butchart Gardens, pulled pork poutine, tiger tail ice cream sundaes and CFL games...we did it all. It was amazing. This Canadian fully admits to being “kitchen challenged”…even struggling to make boxed pasta, but he went out of his way to cook for me. It’s the simple things that always come across the sweetest -- B&E breakfasts and a delicious steak dinner. We went for a spin on his bike and he showed me all of the local sites. Let me just say…being a biker babe is one hell of an arm workout. It was obvious from the get-go that Canada was trying hard to impress me. And he succeeded. It was quite possibly one of the best weekends I’ve had in a very long time. Not only was I having a great time with a great guy, but I was totally off the grid – sans stress from work, family and general life. I even managed to not check email…or…*pause for dramatic effect*…Facebook. My life’s been so jumbled and out of sorts the last few months, this weekend came as a much needed relief from reality.

The downside to running away from reality is that it doesn’t just disappear. It just sits there, idly waiting…ready to eventually smack you in the face like a freight train.

Sunday came and as I laid there next to him, all I wanted to do was soak up every last bit of the weekend that we’d just shared. Part of me really didn’t want to leave. And who could blame me??…reality was waiting for me, and frankly, reality sucked. I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t believe that I could become so attached to someone in such a short span of time. I mean, I’ve heard of it happening to other people, but that’s just not my style. I’m too calculated. I always have to weigh the pros and cons of everything. More often than not, I seek out reasons for why I should not be with someone. I’m not the type of girl that jumps into a situation, emotions ablaze. That’s how you get burned. A sheer recipe for disaster. No way, not me.

Just a mere hour before I had to head back to the ship, I went against every fiber of my better judgment and made the dumbest mistake ever. One that I KNOW 99.9% of women out there have made as well. I asked the dreaded “So, what are we now?” question. UGH! Ladies, why do we torture ourselves like this?? This conversation is always stress-inducing to no end, and it NEVER turns out the way we want it too. Well, I’ll tell you why – It’s because we have ovaries and boobs, and we’re too damn emotional. We can be logical, rigid and quick thinking in any other situation imaginable…but throw a man in the mix and suddenly we’re jello. What a bunch of bull.

In typical male fashion, his response was something to the effect of, “Why can’t we just leave things how they are? Why does it have to change?” Ouch. I felt the achy pain of a rejection coming on, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I should react. We went back and forth for a bit, and he explained why it would never work. Long distance. International. Our careers. Blah blah blah. Sure, it all made sense. He was just being honest, and practical. I couldn’t blame him for that. The realistic side of my brain was shouting that I had to agree with him. But it still hurt. A lot.  I could feel myself choking back tears.

To be quite honest, I stopped listening after I didn’t get the answer I wanted. Questions began swirling – “Maybe it’s not me, maybe it’s just the distance? International borders can be a bitch...Maybe he’s seeing someone else?...What did I do wrong?...Perhaps, I’m just his weekend fling?...and my personal fav…J-Christ this is so embarrassing, is there annnnyyyway that I can get back to the boat without having him see me cry??”

I don’t know how I did it, but I somehow managed to keep my composure. Canada wasn’t oblivious, he could tell there was something bothering me. I made up some BS excuse about being sad to leave, which wasn’t entirely untrue. I don’t think he bought it though. Oh well, I tried.

To make matters worse, I got a text from Canada just as my boat was leaving the harbor – “Bye Bella, I’m glad you came this weekend, but I’m sad to see you go. And this goddamn country station won’t stop playing the sappy shit country. Anyways, it’s a shit deal that we live where we do.” Good lord. I don’t know who I was trying to fool – The tears were coming whether I wanted them to or not; I clearly had no choice in the matter.

Shortly after that, another text – “Take a look to port side and try to spot the green lawnmower” – his nickname for the fluorescent green, pea-sized rental car. My eyes were blurry from crying and it was getting dark, but I managed to see a small car off in the distance flashing its headlights. It was him. “This is me waving goodbye.” Again, it was like something straight out of a RomCom. He drove down the coastline following my boat, just to say goodbye. Oh wow, did I lose it.

Thank god my mother taught me to keep Kleenex in my purse because I cried the entire 2 hours and 45 minutes back to Seattle, through Customs and the entire ride back to my apartment. I can’t even explain what came over me, but I’m pretty sure the other passengers probably thought I was a nut. Every time I tried to catch my breath, more hot tears just came streaming down my face.

For the record – anyone who knows me at all knows that I am NOT a crier. I hate crying. I’m too practical for crying. Crying is a waste of time and energy, only leaving you with puffy eyes and a splitting headache. Not attractive.

I opted to work from home the whole next day, barely leaving the warm security of my bed. And the tears were endless. Even now, days after leaving Canada, I still find myself swallowing back tears. What on earth is making me act this way?? And more importantly, will it ever end?

When I first sat down to write this story out, I thought it could serve two purposes:

1)      As with all of our Tool Box stories, it would serve as a venting mechanism. A way for me to put Canada behind me and end this silly emotional cycle. Some things are just easier to write down, than to verbalize, you know?

2)      It would be a nice alternative to our usual Tool Box adventures. This blog is supposed to be a way for Stella and me to share our tales of the heart – the good, the bad, the ugly – so that you can glean your own lessons from our debacles. Now, don’t get me wrong – Canada is not a Tool. He is however, a Box worthy story that has left his mark.

So I don’t have a witty lesson to be learned or general conclusion that can somehow be extrapolated and applied to your own dating escapades. I’m sad and it hurts. There really isn’t much else to say. I know on some level, he’s sad too. But he’s a boy, and military, and therefore comes equipped with a much better ability to compartmentalize his feelings. Damn him and his testosterone. For now, my only solution is to dive deeper into my unrelenting reality in an attempt to distract myself from my stupid girlie emotions. The order of the day? – Piling on the workload and doubling up on the gym sessions. Oh goodie.

Casual Dating: It Enables Tools to Thrive

Diving into more recent adventures of dating, I’ve added to my repertoire of tools that have been so outlandish that they made the tool box of shame (aka this blog you are reading). Funny thing about these two that makes them stand out is that they both knew that my roommate and I were writing a blog on the uncanny events that followed dating tools in Seattle. Both guys were concerned that a new blog would surface about them.  Well, that dream (or I guess I should say nightmare) of them being called out in a blog is about to come true! If either of you are reading this, rightfully so, you obviously were concerned about this for a reason. Funny how some tools are completely aware of their behaviors and how they treat (or mistreat) women, and will proceed to behave totally inappropriately toward the person that they are dating. These two didn’t stand a chance against avoiding a blog story! Anyways, let us move on to the first tool…

This story, as the majority of them begin, starts with Bella and me going out on a Friday night after a long work week. This night was atypical because we were venturing over to the eastside (Bellevue) and going to a comedy show at the Parlor with our friend Milton. We got there, picked up our free tickets (as mentioned previously, we have lots of connections) and proceeded to take our seats. The show was hilarious, either that or we were enjoying our Cosmo buzzes a little too much. Either way, it was only 11pm when the show ended and we decided to hit up a new spot called Munch Bar located on the edge of the Bellevue Square Mall. I will say that if you are looking for a place in the Seattle area that replicates the people and clubs featured on ‘Jersey Shore,’ you need to check this place out! I have never seen so many Guidos flock to one location in the Seattle area and I’ve lived in the city for the past two years. It was as if they were taking over and apparently they all had a thing for this new bar. I always make an effort not to talk, acknowledge, or dance with any men that I meet in bars/clubs. B and I have done a great job avoiding such men by dancing with each other and motioning for them to leave us be.  This night was not going to be an exception until I was approached out of nowhere by a very tall gentleman, let’s call him sneaker tool (ST for short). How did he acquire this name? Well, although he was wearing designer jeans (True Religion) a V-neck shirt (probably Armani), and was extremely clean cut, he was wearing New Balance sneakers in a club. Who does that!?! Yes, I am extremely observant and definitely have an eye for little details, not to mention a small shoe fetish. J

This guy already had his initial introduction planned for how to strike up a conversation with me and get my attention away from all the other guys. He approached me while I was dancing with B and Milton and said “Hey, do I know you, you look really familiar…” Like I haven’t heard that one before!?! That is probably the easiest, non-original pick-up line to bust out in any social situation to get a girl’s attention. I wasn’t having it. I replied “No, I don’t think I know you.” Then this guy continued to converse with me for the next half an hour or so asking me a million questions about myself and actually taking note and actively listening to what I had to say. It was, in a way, refreshing. I was about to leave with B and Milton when he came up close to me and asked if he could take me out on a date this week. In all the guys that I have talked to in clubs/bars you name it, I have never once been formally asked out. I had to give this guy the benefit of the doubt. That was mistake number one, but I’ll continue the story none the less.

Surprisingly, Sneaker Tool followed through and took me out to an upscale, Tom Douglas Restaurant called Lola downtown. The food and conversation were pronounced! This initial date had lessened my skepticism of ST and I really enjoyed spending time with him. He was very personable and in many ways super nerdy, but don’t get me wrong, I often find that attractive. So far so good, no reason for me to even question whether this guy was going to be a tool or not. Again, how wrong I was…

We continued seeing each other on at least a weekly basis over the next month. Going out on dates and spending quite a bit of time together. However, being as vigilant as I am, I noticed that there were a few things array. Maybe I should have noticed these a bit sooner than a month out. Ladies, if a guy ever does either of these things, he’s not looking to get serious with anyone anytime soon and more than likely, he is a tool! Numero uno, the only time we went out on dates was Sunday through Thursday. Aside from when I met him on a Friday night at Munch Bar, we never spent time together on Friday or Saturday during the day or at night. Numerofav. spot). As for the second item, this guy was off the wall strange, I’ll give him that, he said he always had to have his own sleeping space and that he had to get up super early for work. ST made this excuse, but also had his own sneaky, clever way of asking me over for a booty call late one night. Just an FYI, I do not respond to any texts/calls/invites over to a guy’s place past 10pm and he was not going to be an exception. The text that I received word for word was

ST: “Hey, what are you doing? I’m really scared right now!”

S: “Really, what is going on? Is everything alright?”

ST: “I’m just scared of being alone right now.”

S: “Why is that? Are you at your place?”

ST: “Yes, I’m lying in bed right now really scared!”

S: “What is it that is scaring you?”

ST: “I think there are monsters under the bed and I need someone to cuddle with J”

S: “Seriously, that is not going to work. Very creative, but I don’t respond to booty texts. Goodnight!”

End of Conversation/End of Dating ST

Moral of the story: When any type of relation with a guy seems to be going nowhere, it probably isn’t. If you are looking to get involved with multiple people at the same time, go for it! Otherwise, stay clear of these types of tool, they are only looking for one thing!           

Birthdays Gone Bad: The Tool Chronicles

PRECURSOR

You have probably figured out by now, that most of our stories do not end on a positive note. As a reader, expect no different from this story (you have been forewarned). We are not trying to add negative connotations or ideas to every blog entry, but simply looking out for our reader’s best interests in the hopes that you can learn from our exploits without having to endure any debacles that are even remotely similar. That being said, this story combines two separate events both occurring around Stella’s past two, let’s just say ‘epic’ for now, birthdays.

Stella’s Birthday Numero Uno:  

This story dates back to the fall of ’09 in a new up and coming nightclub called Vela (to be honest, I don’t even know if it’s still in business). One of the main reasons that this venue was chosen to host my birthday was because both Bella and I knew the owner/bartender, DJ and promoters (what can we say; we have a lot of connections in Seattle). Having these connections ensured that we would have a VIP booth and plenty of room for people to come and hangout. The night started off great, couple of pre-drinks at the apartment with friends and then we hopped into a caravan of cabs headed to Belltown to start the evening right! We got to the club early in order to grab a table and catch up with our promoter friends before the festivities got too crazy. And per usual, catching up included a couple of shots (it was expected, it was my bday after all)! This year I really wanted all of my close friends to come celebrate with me…as well as a guy that I was currently seeing; we’ll call him Sunny for now. Bella and I were having a fabulous time - dancing, chatting and catching up with some friends that we hadn’t seen in ages because of our incessantly busy schedules. Overall, my bday party was turning out to be a success (thus far…the night was still young). I had managed not to get trashed off of birthday shots, and vividly recall all of the events of the evening. I must admit, my memory of the night was helped out by one major tool encounter that would have sobered the hell out of anyone!!! Let’s call this tool Entrepreneurial Tool [ET (pun intended)]; you will soon see why this title fits the bill. Before continuing this story, we need to go back a few weeks prior to my bday extravaganza for some essential background information that will help you get to know this sleaze ball a bit better.

FLASHBACK

Three weeks before my birthday celebration at Vela, Entrepreneurial Tool text me explaining that he missed talking to me and was wondering if I had any plans that week. ET and I had casually dated over the past year, he owned a tanning salon I used to go to back in my sorority days so I had seen and talked to him several times before. When I was single he asked me out on a few dates but neither of us really followed through. I ended up dating other people and he probably did the same, nothing too special happened there. Unless a guy does something that really ticks me off or offends one of my close friends, I will usually give them the benefit of the doubt. ET didn’t do anything that would make me not want to speak to him again, so on a Thursday (about three weeks prior to my bday @ Vela) he asked me out on a date.

He picked me up and took me to dinner at a nice Thai restaurant in Wallingford, proceeding the meal; he said he really wanted to show me something. I had no idea what he had in store but I was familiar enough with the greater Seattle area that I knew he was making his way toward Belltown. We parked on a strange back street and went into a side door that looked sketchy as hell. There was a sign lit up that said ‘Mira’, again never heard of the place before. I really didn’t know what to think, I had never been to the northern part of Belltown (aka anything past Del Rey). When we walked in, every person greeted ET and myself, at this point I had observed that this was a hole in the wall dance club (yes, anything is possible in Belltown). There were two bars, a DJ, dance floor, VIP section, and lots of lights and TVs. Entrepreneurial Tool then told me that he owned 70% of this club and that he was going to change everything including the name and make it better than it’s ever been. I was super impressed with his business aspirations – I mean; he already owned a tanning salon, another bar and grill and now this dance club in Belltown.  

Wow! Did I think this Tool was a solid catch, or what?! We stayed at the club for a while then he politely took me home and ended the date, so far so good. After this we went out on one or two more dates, but still no hint of commitment from ET and I was a little hesitant about getting closer to him, especially considering his line of work. This is where the story picks up again, back at my birthday…  

BACK AT VELA

As you can guess ET, being the owner of Vela and all, was working and bartendingpossibly go wrong? …

               
I was dancing with Sunny when Bella frantically came up to me with an upset look on her face exclaiming, “You will not believe what ET just did!!!” Now at the time, I couldn’t imagine ET doing anything that would cause a reaction like this from anyone, especially not my bestie whom he had already met in the past. She told me about how she went to order a vodka tonic and ET was bartending and asked if he could get her number. Yes, ET went there, BIG MISTAKE. Not only was Bella well aware of our dating history, but she also knew that as little as two weeks ago he had taken me out on a date. When she confronted him about this he simply said, “We aren’t exclusive or anything so why does it matter if I get your number?” This set Bella off. One thing is for sure, we don’t like drama or confrontations - but tread carefully – if you are of the male gender, and do something to piss one of us off…damn right we will defend each other to the death! I was not impressed with whatever plan ET had up his sleeves about getting Bella’s number. 1) She was my bestie, and 2) It was my birthday. So I went to confront him myself. 

I wanted to know why he thought it was acceptable to ask my best friend for her number…definitely a low-blow. Especially considering it was my birthday for Chrissakes! I should have expected his cocky, douche bag response to this, “I didn’t ask for her number, why are you girls always trying to start drama, this is why we would never work out.” That just set me off, firstly, I told him that I trust Bella with my life and know that she would never lie to me about something like that (she had no reason to either!) and secondly, that this would be the last time I was going to speak to him and lastly, that we would never be back to his little “up and coming” Belltown dance club and we would tell every person we knew to never go there because the owner is a complete douche (yes, we followed through on that and look how well the place did)!

Moral of the story: Gents - do NOT try to get in between besties, there is no closer bond and things will NEVER end in your favor, we promise!...Besties without testes. ;)

               

Screw Online Dating: The Office, the New Adult Friend Finder

We’ve waxed and waned about whether to share the exploits of this particularly abrasive Tool for some time now. Initially, we didn’t think he could ever amount to “Tool Box” material. But who are we kidding, you are all fair game. Every. Single. One. Of. You.

We should also note that this story is going to require one extra precaution…out of all the men we’ve encountered THIS Tool is the lone ranger – hands down, he is the only Tool that has ever showed any protest to having his exploits splashed across the inter-web. To be honest, most men find our tales hysterical and actually WANT to be in the blog. Others have gone so far as to comment on the story posted about themselves! Either that, or they come to terms with their moronic ways and know fully well why they are being ratted out.

But back to the precautionary measures. We are not going to reveal who this story rightfully belongs too…Stella or Bella? B or S? Our lips are sealed…well sort of. We will still share this candidate’s toolish ways in their entirety. His lies. His slimy behavior…all the facts of the following story are 100% true. However, in the interest of discretion (and so that a certain unnamed individual can’t pursue us for “slander”) the remainder of this Tool Box installment will be from a single perspective…and like I said, my lips are sealed…

Ladies: Myth #1. Office romances only work out on TV. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that whatever fling you’re having with the cute new hire will play out like Jim and Pam at Dunder Mifflin. Sure they’ve had their ups and downs throughout the numerous seasons of The Office, but in the end they get married, have a baby and are happily by each other’s side. BS. Reality paints quite a different picture.

This installment of the Tool Box takes place in the summer (as an additional precaution, we’re omitting the year). Enter In: Cute new guy, justly dubbed Office Tool (OT). As the newbie in the office, he was trying to make a good impression with everyone, helping out where ever he could. OT and I didn’t have a lot of 1-on-1 contact, but I did look forward to the occasional hallway and kitchen interactions. It’s always nice to catch a sideways glance and notice a new, attractive guy checking you out. Every girl needs a slight ego boost every now and then, right? Now Office Tool wasn’t jaw-droppingly hot, and he definitely didn’t jump off the pages of GQ, but he was decent. What he lacked in the looks and physique department, he definitely made up for in wit, charm and general sass. Needless to say, I was intrigued.

Casual flirting led to casual dating, which eventually led to…you guessed it, casual sleepovers…Ladies: Myth #2. “No Strings Attached,” casual dating is nonsense. It doesn’t work. Let’s face it. We’re women and when there are strong, intimate emotions involved, we GET ATTACHED. You’re down right delusional if you believe otherwise. Been there, tried that.

After a couple months of casual dating I was feeling like things were progressing well with OT. We both decided that we needed “something light” because we both had our own baggage. Mine was primarily based on past relationships…and well, let’s just say that his required day care and came with a legal obligation of 18 years. Regardless of our baggage, one thing was made perfectly clear – We were NOT going to tell anyone in our office that we were dating. Sometimes I think the office gossip mill is worse than it was in high school…news spreads like wildfire.

So we kept things discreet. OT and I went on dates, he was flirty, affectionate and we were slowly spending more and more time together. I used to get downright giddy when we’d cross paths in the office because I knew that he would be sending me a flirty text or email moments later…Office Tool was sweet and really seemed to know how to treat a girl. I felt like he was someone I could trust and I let him through walls that most guys don’t make it past.

Now I’m not sure how to describe the progression exactly, other than to say that after things passed a certain level of “seriousness,” a switch flipped. Suddenly there was a barrier that hadn’t been there before. OT became very distant, leaving me utterly confused. I tried to confront him about it with no avail. I will admit that I made one tinsy error here – I managed to get myself so worked up over the situation with Office Tool that I ended up confiding in a co-worker. I mean come on, I neeeeeeded to vent to someone! I tried to cover my bases by having said co-worker promise up and down that she wouldn’t tell my secret. I trusted her. Unfortunately, I did come clean to OT about my confession to said co-worker. Sheesh. He was not happy. OT ranted and raved about how he needed to keep his personal and professional lives separate. He was new to the office and didn’t need to attract any undue attention. At this point, we’d been carrying on with this office tryst for about 3 months…Where is this going? What does he want out of this? Is he being distant because he’s seeing someone else?...All of these were questions incessantly floating around in my head. Gents, I’m sure (or rather, I hope) you can relate to these on some level. Ladies, I KNOW you’ve been there too.

After a week or so of no word from Office Tool, we finally had “the talk.” To sum up his load of BS, he explained that he wasn’t in the “right place” to have a girl friend because he had too much going on in his life and needed time to focus. Blah blah blah. The cherry on top (I’ll paraphrase here) –You’re a great girl, really sexy and mature for your age…but you’re too young to understand my baggage. What a load of bull…I’m in my early twenties and while I won’t pin-point his age exactly, I will say that he was a few years my senior. But let’s be real, the dude’s under 30 (my cut-off). I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe it. Just goes to show you that even the older ones, with graduate degrees are still fit for our Tool Box!

Yes, my feelings were hurt. Yes, I felt used. I’m a firm believer that life continually provides you with situations to learn from. Growth from those experiences is the most important thing you can take away. My motto: Always forgive, never forget. I did my best to avoid Office Tool over the next few months. Even though he started out as a temporary hire, he had managed to weasel his way into a full-time gig…Great news for me. He wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon.

Fast forward to the Holidays. No sooner did I finally manage to get OT out my hair and off my mind…he decides to pop back into the picture. Sending me messages to the effect of, “You looked great today, btw;” “I kept thinking about your hot shoes…couldn’t really focus”…and after a few days of flirty exchanges and making plans to grab drinks, this happened:

Office Tool: Hey, I’m not sure we should go out later.

Me: Ok, why’s that?

Office Tool: I’ll be honest, part of my motivation is because I couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would be to be with you again…I was hoping you could stay the night, so if you want to it would be great, but if not then we shouldn’t drink together…but I’d love to have you over if you can…

J. Christ! Ladies: Take note and read through the lines. The above is a polite (albeit stupid) way of a guy asking for a booty call. I’m not one to judge – to each their own, but this girl does not do booty calls. No dice.

I made it CRYSTAL clear to OT that I had no intention of becoming his side action. I needed to look out for myself and my feelings. I did not want to get hurt, AGAIN. However, I have to give credit where credit is due, he’s charming and he knew me well enough to know exactly what to say…And after some persistence, I caved and agreed to see him again. My motives weren’t aimed towards steamy sessions in the sack, but inevitably that’s where things ended up.

To summarize, hindsight is 20/20…things simply repeated and I should have seen it coming. OT was amazingly affectionate and I was falling for him, once again. All the old feelings came back and I had a glimmer of hope that things might be different this time…yeah, right. Just like before, he coiled back with the same old excuse – He wasn’t in the right place to be dating anyone. Baloney. Hurting me once, shame on you. Allowing myself to fall for it twice, shame on me. I guess, we’ll chalk it up to another one of those life lessons…ugh.

Fast forward through the Holidays and into the New Year. Things were going great…with work, with friends. Oh heck, with life in general. I was finally feeling over OT, despite my inexplicable attraction to him. And then, it hit me. Like a freakin’ Mac Truck. My co-worker mentioned that Office Tool’s sexcapades were the hot new piece of gossip floating around the office….OT was dating someone else…IN THE OFFICE! What? Who? When? How???? A thousand thoughts came rushing into my head, along with an unpleasant sinking feeling in my stomach. My heart raced and my head whirled. How could he do this? What is he thiiiiiiinking?! Not only had OT sparked a new inter-office flame, but to make matters worse his victim was new to office as well. This poor girl didn’t have a clue what she was in for.

To be honest, I couldn’t care less about who Office Tool does or does not sleep with. Like I said before, to each their own. He could sleep with the whole damn office if it pleases him. My point of contention is with the fact that he feels it necessary to flaunt his conquests (myself included) to other people…WHERE I WORK! Excuse me, but whatever happened to wanting to maintain professionalism? Needing to keep personal and professional life separate?? Until this point, I’ve kept my mouth shut. Sitting idly by and watching him make a fool of himself. For shame.

Moral of the Story: OT, have some tact. It’s poor judgment to use the office as your social watering hole. You have a personal life, and a professional life…they are separate for a reason. Do yourself a favor and keep it that way.

Maybe in Guatemala Lying is a National Past-Time Tool

This story begins waaaaay back in December of 2008 (wow, that just made me feel really old) on an atypical night where Bella and I decided to hang out at a club in the butt hole of Seattle - Yes, you guessed it, Pioneer Square. EWWWW. Lots of interesting encounters have taken place in Seattle’s oldest neighborhood, but that's beside the point of this particular story.

My story begins with Bella and I getting ready to go out for a night on the town in our usual glammed up fashion. It was this particular Friday night that we were invited by Bella's Ex, let's just call him Miguel for now (he'll have his own blog entry in the near future), to a friend's birthday shindig. Little did we know, but the party was being held for a girl that went to Bella's high school. Definitely not someone that Bella would consider a friend, maybe an acquaintance at best. This girl had eyes and features that protruded so far she resembled Rodney Dangerfield! Now, I normally wouldn't blatantly make fun of someone for their looks or appearance, but this girl had it coming! Not only was she flirting with Bella's Ex in front of her, she was macking on every guy in the place including the one that I had my eye on. Let's just call him Guatemalan Tool (GT) for now.

The night was going pretty well from the beginning - some light pre-funking before going out and after a couple of cocktails at the club we were feeling a little dancey (it's what we do)! Bella was dancing with Miguel and some of his guy friends and I was looking for an attractive someone to match my own dancing skills. That's when I saw him...tall, dark and handsome, most definitely Hispanic and he could hold his own on the dance floor. We made eye contact and Miguel and Bella were quick to see a gaze of interest between the two of us(they both went to high school with this GT). Needless to say, they introduced us immediately and for the rest of the night I had my dancing partner and was extremely satisfied. As you can very well guess the story does not end here....

Fast forward to NYE 2009 (about three weeks after the club scene), also the next time I saw the Guatemalan Tool. Again, pretty much the same group of people from the club (minus Rodney Dangerfield’s female counterpart) went to a lounge in Ballard to celebrate NYE in style. Nothing too significant happened aside from the fact that Miguel brought his new girl friend with him and this aggravated the hell out of Bella (read the blog on Small Town Tool for more details). After the fête ended, GT and I went back to my apartment near the University District and had a serious convo about his feelings toward me. I wanted a relationship and saw no reason to resist GT, aside from the fact that it would be a semi-long distance relationship because he lived over 2 hours away. He had a car as did I, so there was no reason it wouldn't work as long as we both put forth the effort. Therein lies the problem...

GT and I saw each other about once, sometimes twice a week for the next two months. I was twitter-patted. GT always knew exactly the right things to say and do to keep me wanting more. This tool even went so far as to ask if he could meet my parents! Brazen. Yes, he touted that he was "serious" about the relationship that had been developing between the two of us over the past months. The encounter with my parentals was pretty hilarious in and of itself. My father straight-up told GT that he had a stupid name (yes, that was the first words out of his mouth) and GT took it, but then proceeded to weave my family a string of lies…Hmm where to start...."I own three cars" "I attend the local university" "I have a full-ride soccer scholarship" "I own my own house" "I invited all of my family to live with me" "I gained citizenship here two years ago" "I have a high GPA and am majoring in computer science and work full-time"....and the list goes on and on. GT left the house leaving a good impression with the parental units, however I was suspicious and decided to do a little of my own investigating.

After Googling the classes GT was SUPPOSEDLY taking and the roster for the university soccer team he SUPPOSEDLY played for, I learned real quick that this guy was not being honest about anything at all.  No such major at that university and no name on the current or past soccer roosters…this is when things started to go downhill. Oh heck, screw downhill. Shit dropped off a cliff! When I confronted GT about all of his lies, he denied everything! Did he really think a girl working toward a master’s degree wouldn't do her background research and find out sooner or later? Hence the reason he gained blog worthy status!

In an attempt to redeem himself, GT told me that he was going to do something REALLY special for Valentine's Day. He said not to worry about a thing and that everything would be planned out. Now I am not one to really enjoy a guy going over the top on this particular holiday, simply because of the fact that it's so commercialized. But I had to admit that I was getting a little excited to see what GT had in store.

Valentine’s Day 2009 arrived and I was even more excited to see GT and what he had planned for the special day. Five o'clock rolls around and I hadn’t received so much as even a text from GT. I was feeling really down at this point. Was he going to come through and do something to really surprise me, or was he going to be a complete tool and make up yet another lame excuse? I worked up my courage, and sent GT a text to the effect of "ummm....so I thought you were making plans for Valentine's Day?" GT texts right back, "so sorry, my mom has the flu and is in the hospital, I can't do anything today." REALLY!?! After all the lies I had already endured, did he actually think that I would really believe him??? HELL NOOO!

Let's just say over the past two years GT comes around every so often to text or chat, explaining that, "I made the biggest mistake of my life losing you" "you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me" or "the reason I did what I did was because I was scared and falling in love." Blah Blah Blah. Whatever the case may be, I wasn't having it and bestie Bella assured me that GT was a compulsive liar and not to be trusted.

Moral of the Story:  When things sound way too good to be true, that’s usually the case.

New Year, New Tool

Au revoir 2010, hellloooo 2011! In my opinion, resolutions are old hat…I prefer a new blog dish to start the year off right. We know, we know. Stella and I are looooong overdue for a new blog story…but trust us patience is a virtue…and this one is a doozy.

I am beginning to seriously doubt that it's possible for me to have a "normal" NYE. For the last 3 years, something bizarre has always managed to happen to Stella and me. Let’s recap – NYE 2008, out of ALL of the party spots in Seattle I wound up in Ballard at the same bar as Miguel (my on-again, off-again high school ex) and his new girlfriend of the moment. Awkward tension all night long. Grrreat. Also that night, I somehow wound up being the only "single" girl in our group and had no one to kiss when the clock struck twelve...so after one too many cosmos, I decided that it would be a good idea to make out with Carlos (mutual friend of Miguel and I) at midnight, in an attempt to make Miguel jealous (classy, I know). *sigh*

Fast forward to NYE 2009. Miguel and I were back "on" for the moment so we made plans to go out with a group of friends to Belltown. I happened to be the only girl in the group, but this time I was with a bunch of close guy friends so I didn't mind all that much…and for some reason they were all reeeeeallllly excited to go dancing....Little did I know (I actually didn't find out until the wee hours of the morning), but they were all high on E. I got to ring in the New Year being a drug addled babysitter. No dice.

Zooming ahead to NYE 2010...I found an amazingly hot cocktail dress and was super excited to go out with Stella and our girl friend Michelle. After sipping a couple tasty pre-funking cocktails (per usual), we ventured out into the frigid cold to begin our festivities on Queen Anne Hill. Around 10:30pm we jumped in a cab and made our way over to Belltown…i.e. the NYE epicenter of Sea-town. Everything was peachy, our trio was having a blast and at about 11:30pm - we were at Amber (one of our favorite of the Belltown bars) when we ran into a group of girls that I went to high school with. Now I hadn’t seen, nor spoken to any of these girls in well over 5 years...so like any half drunk gaggle of girls would do, we immediately screeched in unison and excitedly hugged each other with one hand while juggling cocktails and clutches in the other.

*PAUSE*

I need to take a moment to give you some background context on the Tool who is the focus of this story. In order to do that, we have to briefly rewind to October 2010. Enter in: Small Town Tool (STT). An old high school classmate reached out to me via Facebook. He was deliciously cute, flirty and much to my surprise, we had a fair amount in common. STT and I were in the same graduating class (shout out to the class of 2005), but we didn't role with the same crowds in school. STT was yummy, and there definitely was potential, but because we lived 2 hours apart things never progressed further than few casual drinks. Sadly, long distance dating es no bueno.

Speeding up to December 2010. What is it about the Holidays that always seem to bring new surprises? After zippo communicado for the past 2 months...guess who decides to jump back in the picture for Round 2?? Yep, you guessed - Small Town Tool. And he was cheesier than ever with his flirting, saying things like: "You're a cutie," "I wish you were still in town so I could kiss you," "So when I do get to come visit you?" Blah Blah Blah. For the record – no self-respecting independent woman in her early twenties wants to be referred to as "cutie"...what are we 12?! Regardless, STT's overt cheesiness coupled with the Christmas spirit had me a little smitten.

On Christmas Eve, after making the rounds at the holiday parties STT and I met up at a mutual friend's house. We'll call this friend Navy Tool (NT). The night was pretty innocent, NT was regaling Small Town Tool and myself about his adventurous attempts to become a Navy Seal and then proceeded to break out his guitar and sing out of tune for 2 hours. STT used this as his opportunity to make a move, and in true middle school fashion...held my hand. Around 2:00am, tired but still lucid, I finally decided to call it a night. I looked over to see STT and NT asleep on each other's shoulders with NT gingerly cradling his guitar. How precious. No sooner did I make it back to my madre’s house, that I get a message from STT to the effect of "come back and cuddle with me (sad face)"...Seriously??? Calling me “cutie”, cuddling, hand-holding...all of this was making me slightly nostalgic for my high school days, when life was so innocent and simplistic. Reality check. That was then, and this is now.

STT and I had kept in touch throughout the week and I was excited that we had plans to grab drinks the following night. But I would NEVER dream of celebrating NYE without Stella...I mean, bro's before hoe's, right?...Or whatever the female equivalent to that may be. Chicks before dicks, perhaps?

*UN-PAUSE*

Let’s return to the NYE scene in Belltown. Scantily clad, bedazzled women were out in droves and the men were drooling in close step. Our trio was enjoying the NYE festivities at Amber, where by that time we were joined by Stella's beau Conan. Stella and I like Amber for 3 primary reasons: 1) there is never a cover; 2) thanks to a long standing, well cultivated reputation with the head bouncer...Stella and I can easily skirt the line of people; and 3) this hot spot is the home to one of our fav bartenders of all time – Christina – Arguably one of the best bartenders in all of Seattle, if not the west coast. This Boston native has more sass in her pinky finger, than all of the Rat City Roller Girls combined. Boom.

Despite my better judgment, I struck up a conversation with Kathy (one of the girls from the group that I ran into earlier). It just so happened that Kathy was Small Town Tool’s Ex from high school. Just my luck. In ALL the bars, in ALL of Seattle…I had to run into her. Here. Tonight. Nevertheless, the two of us chit-chatted about the typical stuff – where are you living?, where are you working?...And then I asked the million dollar question: dating anyone?...“Oh yeah, I’m still with (Small Town Tool’s name)” *coughs vodka tonic* *sputters* *nearly drops cocktail* All I could get out of my mouth was, “SAY WHO?!” After a brief pause and slightly foggy drunken confusion…I had to tell her that I had in fact, just started seeing Small Town Tool. Kathy and I immediately proceeded to compared text messages that we’d both received from STT, which only further infuriated the both of us. I was so pissed, I could have spit nails. To make matters worse, I then thought it was a brilliant idea to send STT a slew of fuming drunk text messages to let him know that, “Umm. Someone just handed me a Crown on the rocks. Oh dear.”…“Oh yeah, and Kathy is here. You’ve been caught. Douche.”

Reader’s Digest Version: I am no longer speaking to Small Town Tool. EPIC fail on his part. And to the ladies out there reading this – Don’t be fooled by cheesy jokes and one-liners. Any man who debases himself to employing these tactics is most likely doing so because he is hiding something (like a girl friend). Furthermore, terms like “sweetie” and “cutie” are ONLY acceptable when they are being used by your flamboyant male friends of the homosexual persuasion. Hello 2011.

S and B out of the Box!

Stella (S)- She's a rocker chick, legs for days in her skinny jeans, multiple tattoos and sports an even DOZEN body piercings. The girl can master the lyrics to any song after only hearing it once. She’s a walking iPod. True to her Hispanic roots, this latina's got an affinity for spicy foods…and we don’t mean the over-the-counter salsa with “heat”…we’re talking inferno magma quality. This chick puts chicken sauce on jalapeños as she eats them out of the jar for crissake! It's amazing she still has taste buds. But don’t let this girl fool you with her rebel ways she’s a smarty pants too, having earned her Master’s degree by 24. She is a social worker devoted to working with recovering drug addicts that are in treatment.

Bella (B)- She, on the other hand, finds comfort in all things girly. Curvy and gifted with a well endowed rack that has evoked comments from even the most flamboyant of gay men. And after years of competing in pageants, she has a keen eye for anything sparkly or bedazzled. She prefers a dress and heels over pants and flats any day of the week. She's sarcastic and takes pride in having an arsenal of cheesy pick up lines. Doesn't like being told that she can’t do something (the proud owner of a pink Ms. Fix It Tool Kit) and she thrives off of keeping a busy schedule - works fulltime, an intern for a nonprofit, volunteers for a 2nd nonprofit, is in the process of starting her own business and applying to law school.

Reader's Digest Version: We’re opposites. But opposites attract, right? The ying to each other's yang. And as one might imagine…our tastes in men are equally as *eh hemm* “diverse.” While Stella likes her men tattooed, gauged and with an appreciation for music (aka the non-dirty Seattle “hipsters”);  Bella prefers men athletic, clean cut and who have an appreciation for cooking. This works out great for us because while we’ve dated men from a wide array of ethnicities (even Cuban brothers at one point in time… that’s for a whole other blog in and of itself), there is little to no competition between us. Mocha/Vanilla. Leggy/Curvy. Blonde/Brunette. Girlie/Rocker. You get the idea.

Media has routinely bombarded us with the age old cliché that love awaits us all, and so as youth we dream of our Princes, riding in on a white stallion, rescuing us from the dark, depressive towers of our solitude, sweeping us away in a whirlwind of love and bliss. But that's what is written in books, the millions of pages in diaries worldwide tell a vastly different story. The romantic in all of us longs for the story of true love, someone who understands and anticipates our every want and desire, someone preferably tall, dark, and handsome. The tall and dark are negotiable. The handsome is not.

We remember hearing something as little girls that stuck with us from that moment on, and we'll paraphrase it here for you, “The purpose of dating is to find out what qualities you like and what qualities you don't like, and to one day find the person that embodies that ideal mate, possessing of all your positive qualities and exhibiting none of your negative ones.” It makes sense in its simplicity that we should strive to find that one perfect match.


In both of our attempts to find that perfect match...Well, let's just say we have had our fair share dating debacles over the last two and a half years. This blog is about the not-so-perfect matches and by not-so-perfect, we mean really, really so far away from being perfect.

These are our stories...here, for your enjoyment and education we will share excerpts of all the tools we've encountered, dated and otherwise had the displeasure of meeting along the way. This is our Tool Box!