Nick Of Time

Welcome, BITCHES! THIS is "our" 675th post!

C'mon in out of the cold (wipe your boots first).

You are here on a good night! I couldn't WAIT to get back to "The Corner" to share my evening with you (whomever you are).

However, before "we" launch into that, "we" must pay respects to Elizabeth Edwards who passed away this morning. Elizabeth was 61-years-old.

"Kev" (that's me) hasn't been too happy lately. It's true... I'm not gonna sugar coat this for you (because, really, I don't know you). No worries though, I'm resilient - I bounce back (and sometimes you just have to laugh when you just want to cry, right?). You guessed it - man trouble. The trouble is, I don't have one. Hard to believe, right?! (And I lost all that weight!)

Anyhoo, if you've read the blog in the past, you might know that Halloween is a magical holiday for me. I love it. I always seem to date someone I meet on Halloween. Remember the "Last EVER Friday HOT Guy?" He was "Hot Cop" - Halloween 2008. (I was a sailor.) He was cute as a button. We are still friends today. Last year I dated a guy in a dress (I was a cowboy), with a girl's name, "Dana," whom I also met on Halloween. This year, Halloween 2010... My costume - NASA Astronaut. It was winning. When I say "winning," I of course mean form fitting and revealing, functional for "trick or treating" and easy to get off when the party is over and you've had too many spirits to navigate things like buttons. ("Kudos" to the NASA space program for their design - it's "kicky." I plan to wear this as often as I can.) As the night waned on, I enjoyed the festivities (private party followed by debauchery at "Blake's") with friends and neighbors. I thought the night would end without meeting anyone "new." Then I saw "Jack" (that's really his name so I probably didn't need to put it in quotes, right?). "Jack" wasn't in costume (he just looked like a straight guy/dad from Alpharetta, out with some gal pals). My first words to him (this is good, so write this down) were "Hey, you straight?!" (I learned that it's just good manners to ask when in doubt.. I didn't know the guy I was groping at the "Scissor Sisters" concert last month was with his girlfriend... Woopsie.) I am always more attracted to straight guys anyway. "Jack" smiled, said "no" (and then proved it). Did I mention that "Jack" is H-O-T, hot? Don't get too excited. This doesn't end well. Fast forward one month and 7 dates, "Jack" exited stage left. Never to be heard from again. Sad? For sure! No explanation. "Kev" (I keep forgetting to write in third person) didn't understand? He ("Kev" that is) was on his BEST behavior. (And after 7 dates, that was difficult to maintain. Polite. Check! Thoughtful. Check! Good listener. Check!)

Where is this going, you may be wondering? (I know, you probably can't wait to read someone elses blog or get back on Facebook.) Here's the crux of the story - "Kev" joined Match.com on Saturday. He's willing to try anything, including Match.com. (Times ticking, that Bonnie Raitt song, "Nick of Time" is my new anthem.) Let me just say, Match.com has managed to collect the largest amount of garden variety weirdos on the internet. Although you complete a survey about your "Mr. Right," Match.com suggests people that clearly don't fall within your scope of interest. Match.com thinks you'd "click" if you both breathe or walk upright. No lie. For example, "Kev" will not date a smoker. I clearly responded "NO WAY" when asked this. Match.com has suggested 3. "Kev" is looking for someone in his age range. (We know what happened with "Hot Cop"/"Last EVER Friday HOT Guy"... "Kev" cried, a LOT, and "Hot Cop" is now living with his 23-year-old (albeit, age appropriate) boyfriend in D.C.. CONGRATS, by the way, HOT Cop, you deserve the best!) Match.com keeps sending me 25 year olds! Tonight they thought I might like a cross dressing transgender guy/gal, Ms./Mr., he/she... I don't understand. Facebook employs intuitive algorithms that locate your crush from second grade. Why can't Match.com utilize the information you give them? I digress...

Tonight "Kev" went on his first Match.com coffee date. (This is why I couldn't WAIT to come home - I had to share this with YOU, because I know YOU care.) (In the future, I will bring my new Netbook so I can write WHILST on the date. I was taking mental notes...) "Clint" (okay, that was really his name) was a very nice/polite, argyle sweater vest wearing "ginger" (whom I think had a thyroid condition, which would explain the Barbara Bush eyes) who plays piano and sings in the choir at the Presbyterian Church. I am not sure how he got through?! I marked "atheist" when asked about religion. Guys in choirs are immediately disqualified. Bleck. I also stated that I hate cats. They scratch you, give you dirty looks and stink up your house. Who sits on "Clint's" piano as he plays (and belts out) "What A Friend We Have In Jesus?" Simon. Simon, the Siamese cat. My mind wandered as he talked about how Atlanta guys are "so plastic." He asked my favorite foods and favorite travel destinations while I day dreamed about "Hot Cop" (Halloween 2008), and wondered why "Jack" left me...

I think we are going to have some fun over the next few weeks, so I hope you will stop in and join me on this quest for love. Christmas is coming and I want a present! Next up, Jason!

I hope YOU (and YOU) have a GR-EAT Wednesday.

Ciao -

Kev

(Footnote... "Kev" does not discriminate against those who believe in God (or cats), gingers, or anyone with a thyroid condition. Many of my closest and dearest friends are those who are God-fearing cat owners. Gingers drive me wild. I LOVE Prince Harry! "Kev" does, however, draw the line with guys in choirs. It's a deal breaker, as is Barbara Bush.)

Now please enjoy this video...