Scum, Bums, Foreigners, and Gay men

Alright, Alright. I typically am not willing to admit defeat until the bitter end. However, I am waving my white flag in the losing battle of trying to find my prince. Frankly, I think that my Knight-in-shining-armor and his beautiful horse were taken out by a Mack Truck on his way to find me. Whatever the excuse may be, I’m giving up the search. If God sees fit, one day, the right guy for me will somehow come into my life…if not, I may die an ornery, mean-spirited, Old Spinster. I’ll give you a visual aide here….I will so be Weezer (spell?) off of Steal Magnolias. That’s all I have to say…
Ok, so I am not exactly the average 22 year-old. I haven’t really dated around that much. (At my own defense…I will say that it’s Chiefland and Trenton that we’re talking about here…and I do have some standards…like having teeth is a must). I have “talked” to guys in the past…but, whatever…THOSE were promising, let me tell you…hahaha :)
Unfortunately, though, I only can find scum, bums, foreigners and gay men. On this note, let me say that if there is a real butthole somewhere within a 30 mile radius, I will find him, and fall for him. That’s just the luck I seem to have. I generally fall for the guys that are so full of themselves that they just can’t seem to get over it. Along with this, I have fallen for a gay guy before (before I realized he was gay…he was pretty manly, I promise…somewhere along the lines I missed the writing on the wall, though).
Let me tell y’all something. There are some guys that want a girl just so the girl can support them. I’m like wth? I’m all about it being a partnership and all…but I am SO not about to work my fanny off just so you can sit on the couch all day eating cheetos. When I worked at the store, I had this type come in and try to talk real sweet to me.
And the foreigners…I hate to sound prejudice, b/c I’m not. But how can I say this?? If you can’t speak fluent English, why would you want my phone number? I swear y’all, when I worked at Hitchcocks, and it came time to pick melons, I got a boat load of offers. Thinking back on it…maybe it was b/c I was chubby and looked available or maybe it was b/c they needed a greencard? Either way, if I can’t understand what a person is saying while they are right in front of me…why in the heck would I want to have a phone conversation with them? Another story—I still, to this day, have a foreign stalker named Juan. Juan is a short 45 year-old man with a son older than my little sister, yet he still likes to talk to me (and he remembers me by name…after 4 years) everytime he sees me. He came in one of the last days that I worked at the store and, once again, asked me for my number. (At that point, I wasn’t as mean as I am now) I didn’t know what to say…so I just kept saying “I can’t give that out while I’m at work”…hoping he would move along. Then, he offered me a job. I still don’t know what that job was, or if I would even want to know what that job entailed. All that man did every day was drive around in a creepy, green, child-molester-looking van. Can we say yuck?
Yes, these are the men that I get. Sad, but true. This is why I’m giving up the ghost. I’m just hoping that maybe all of these experiences are just showing that God has a sense of humor. Maybe one day He’ll send him my way. As of right now, I’m not holding my breath. Maybe I’m just thinking of God like Santa Claus or something…but I haven’t exactly been Mother Teresa lately…I just don’t know that I’m on his “nice” list right now. So…we’ll see. It is dern sure hard to give up this battle with all the love songs coming on the radio. Stupid Valentine’s Day. Bleh! :)