My local grocery store gives me a bazillion coupons every time I check out and pay. I guess they want me to feel like I won the lottery, hoping I’ll come back and spend even more the next time. With savings! Of course.
The coupons are usually for products I never buy, or stuff I don’t want, and I just chuck them in the trash. But two weeks ago, the market gave me coupons worth keeping.
Free breakfast.
We’re talking a dozen eggs, a pound of bacon, a carton of orange juice, and a loaf of bread. Free. The only catch was that I had to use the coupons this past weekend.
“I can’t wait to get this free breakfast,” I told my son.
“Aren’t we at mom’s that weekend?” he asked.
Sure enough, my ex had custody. Oh, well. Too bad for my kids. Sometimes in a two-house divorced family, things don’t quite work out the way you’d like. It wouldn’t stop me from getting my free breakfast.
When the weekend came, I went to the grocery with my coupons and picked up a dozen eggs, a pound of bacon, a carton of orange juice, and a loaf of bread. I got into the express check-out line.
“Sorry, you can’t use these coupons for this,” the checkout guy said.
“Why not?” I asked. The coupons clearly said free. They listed the specific products. I was there on the right day.
The check-out guy pointed at the fine print, and told it to me straight: “You have to buy fifty-dollars worth of groceries.”
Sigh. There’s always a catch. No way was I going to spend my weekend morning shopping for $50 worth of food supplies. Especially when my kids weren’t at my house.
I went home empty-handed. Thank goodness for frozen waffles.
If you liked this free breakfast post, you might also enjoy:
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November 11th, 2009
Posted in
life |
19 comments
A couple I know met like this: he came into the store where she worked to buy things for his work, and saw she was hot, sexy and confident. They flirted and chatted and swapped phone numbers, started dating, and now they’ve been a happy couple for more than two years.
The other day, the guy told a more detailed version of how they met. Apparently, he used to shop at one particular store. Some buddies of his told him there was a hottie who worked at a different store, and she had the sort of look he liked in a woman. (e.g. redhead and curvy, or brunette and slim. You get the idea. I won’t give identifying details.)
He went out of his way to her store, specifically to meet her. He chatted her up, etc. Now they’ve been a couple for more than two years. (Talk about a happy ending.)
All the men who heard this story thought it was perfect. We were impressed! The guy moved out of his normal hunting ground to find the sort of woman he was attracted to. Like a lion, he pounced on his prey. He took a chance, made his move, and it paid off. Now he has a girlfriend and a solid relationship. Happy couples rock.
The women who heard this story, including the woman who the story was about, reacted in a different way entirely. They figure if this guy would go out of his way to meet a woman like her, what’s to stop him from going out of his way to meet a different woman in a different store – even now that he’s coupled up?
In short, the women saw his behavior as a red flag. To them, any man who would venture off the beaten path in a sneaky manner, to chase after a woman, is a man not to be trusted. He’s the type of guy who might engage in discreet affairs.
Now – I’m not saying all women would think this way. But it was striking how the men and women who heard the story reacted. When we heard this interpretation, we men were shocked. If we have a rockin’ good woman in our lives, we have no motivation to look elsewhere for someone else. Yeah, he changed his routine to meet the woman he’s dating now. But he has no reason to change it again.
Could be some of these women knew men who didn’t subscribe to this same philosophy. Or perhaps they don’t like that the initial attraction on his part was physical. Who knows.
At any rate, one take-home lesson is this: if you’re a guy, don’t tell the truth about how you actually met the woman of your dreams.
Just say whatever she wants to hear, and keep holding her close.
If you liked this how to meet singles dating post, you might also enjoy:
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November 10th, 2009
Posted in
relationships |
27 comments
My teen daughter is applying to colleges right now.
That means she’s writing tons of college application essays.
I feel for her!
So much so, I decided to write a college application essay of my own, as if I were applying to university, too.
Head over to the Hot Dads Blog for a funny take on the college application essay process.
I Have Loved, I Have Lived – College Application Essay
Toga party at Dad’s House after.
If you liked this college application essay post, you might also enjoy:
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November 9th, 2009
Posted in
teens |
7 comments
My marriage ended ten years ago.
That’s a decade of post-divorce dating experience under my belt!
What was dating like ten years ago?
And what’s it like now?
Today, Dad’s House is guest posting over at The Real World: Venus vs. Mars. Ride a love rocket on over for a look at:
A Decade of Dating, How Things Have Changed
Then come back and help me figure out what to do with the next ten years of my life.
If you liked this decade of divorce dating post, you might also enjoy:
Subscribe to Dad's House | © 2008-09 David Mott, DadsHouseBlog.com. All rights reserved.
November 6th, 2009
Posted in
dating |
19 comments
I go on a lot of bad dates. At least those are the ones I tend to blog about. Sill, proof does exist that not all of my first dates suck. A woman I recently went on two dates with texted me at 2am.
She texted: Sleelunb???
I texted: Huh? What’s up?
She texted: I’m drunk!!!
Gotta love a drunk text at two in the morning.
I texted: Do you need a ride someplace?
She texted: No. I’m home. And sad!!!!
I texted: Why sad?
She texted: Will u marry me?
I texted: Ha. U r drunk
She texted: I need u to marry me or I have to go back to Peru!
Nothing like a foreign national looking for a green card after just two dates to suck the romance right out of a relationship. Not to mention doing so drunk at 2am. I’ve heard some crazy requests in my days (remember the woman who wanted to be nude in chains, in a cage?), but this took the cake. I ignored the drunken texting.
She sent another text message.
Her text: Marry me???
She must have passed out asleep, because she didn’t text again until morning.
Her text: So u gonna marry me??
My text: Not today.
Her text: When? I miss my parents! I need u to marry me so I can visit them and come back and stay here.
My text: I barely know u
Her text: U will know me good when we marry. I will stay with you 3 years!!!
Oh, she hadn’t mentioned we’d stay married three whole years. That changed everything. Of course, after three years, we’d… get divorced? Sigh.
Two days later, she sent another text mesage:
When u gonna call? We need to go on a date so u can know me.
Warning to Dad’s House female readers. Dating David can result in you wanting to get married right away. Anyone with marital desire lasting more than 48 hours needs medical assistance immediately, or risk a permanent loss of wedding bell potency.
If you liked this drunk text marriage proposal, you might also enjoy:
Subscribe to Dad's House | © 2008-09 David Mott, DadsHouseBlog.com. All rights reserved.
November 5th, 2009
Posted in
dating |
29 comments
It’s wrestling season in the middle school, and I watched a meet last night. My teen son quickly pinned his opponent. So fast, in fact, he looked up at the ref, wondering when the call would come. That one moment of lost focus was all it took for his opponent to waggle free – for a second. My son pinned him again, and this time the ref called it. I think the entire match took less than a minute.
A little while later, I was chatting with a mom who had a boy on the team. She had only been to one other match – one last year where a boy broke his arm in the first few minutes of the wrestling meet. I was there too – it was excruciating for us parents to watch. I can’t imagine the pain that boy was in.
Anyway, the match last night is the first one the mom had attended since that broken arm. Finally it was her son’s turn to wrestle.
Her boy is big and strong, and a woman near us gasped.
“Is that your son?” the gasping woman from the other team asked.
“Yes,” the mom on my team said. “Is that your son going up against him?”
The other woman nodded, and put a hand to her mouth. Clearly, she didn’t like her son’s odds.
Keep in mind, these boys wrestle in a weight class, so they weighed pretty much the same. But the boy from my son’s team was all muscle, lean, strong, ripped abs, broad shoulders. The other boy was out of shape.
To keep things clear, let’s call the strong boy from my son’s team Hulk, and the other boy Wimpy.
The ref started the match. Hulk picked Wimpy up and threw him to the mat. (No, this isn’t WWF. It was a legal throw.) Wimpy’s mom gasped loudly.
Hulk’s mom turned and said “Oh, I’m sorry. I hope my son didn’t hurt your boy.”
If there’s a more polite way to say, “sorry my son just kicked your son’s ass,” I don’t know it.
Photo by emdot, some rights reserved.
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Subscribe to Dad's House | © 2008-09 David Mott, DadsHouseBlog.com. All rights reserved.
November 4th, 2009
Posted in
parenting |
15 comments
I had a rockin’ date this past summer. I saw a woman in a wine bar, tried to chat her up, failed miserably – but then got her number a week later from a friend of hers who it turns out I knew. Apparently, he did some serious wingman post-op triage and talked me up to her when I wasn’t around. She told him to have me call her, and call her I did.
She and I had a cocktail date at one of my favorite upscale restaurants. The mood there is cozy, the lighting dim, the drinks stiff (the bartenders know me, ahem). We had a lot in common, and the conversation flowed. All in all, a great first date.
Before we could have a second date, though, she left town for a few weeks (it was summer, remember). Once back, we reconnected with a phone call, and I invited her out for dinner.
Now then, she’s a single mom of teens, and I’m a single dad of teens, so our custody schedule shouldn’t be too hard to sync up. After all, our kids are old enough to be left alone for an evening. But this woman was tough to pin down. Seems she’s a bit of a socialite wannabe. (She swore she never went out, but she kept talking about how her girlfriend was married to a Venture Capitalist, i.e. man with a mega personal bank account, and I got the idea this woman wanted the same sort of prize.)
To make a long story short: we picked a night for a second date, and she cancelled on me last minute, saying something else hd come up. She suggested I try her again the following week. Try I did, only to find out her every night was booked.
Can you say, she didn’t want to date me, but didn’t want to tell me that?
I checked with the mutual friend, and he said I should probably just stop pursuing her. Okay, no big deal. I’m not going to hit it off with everyone. I mean, this woman and I had definite chemistry, and we connected on a very grounded level. But I’m not a Venture Capitalist, never pretended to be. My wallet isn’t as big as the Rock of Gibraltar.
Fast forward to this past week. I was in that same wine bar with a buddy, and who’s there but Miss Wants-to-Marry-a-Wallet! We locked eyes, and she abruptly turned away, pretending not to see me. She said something to her lonely houswife friend (the one married to a VC), then threw back her head and laughed – Hahahahahaha. One of those carefree laughs hot women toss out in bars so that men will notice them.
My buddy insisted I go say hi, if for no other reason than to see fireworks. I was totally down for that. This woman’s summer-time reaction to not wanting to date had been so junior high worthy, I hadn’t lost any sleep.
We went over to her and her friend, and I said hello. She looked at my like I had some nerve even pretending I knew her. I introduced my buddy, and introduced ourselves to her friend. But Miss One Date turned away like I wasn’t even there.
Damn, I must have pissed her off plenty over the summer. Maybe I was supposed to have called and pressed for that second date. Some women like playing hard to get.
My buddy and I strolled off, and he muttered something about her being a bee-yatch.
A little later that night, two older men approached this woman and her friend. The men were comfortably dressed, drinking from special glasses reserved for expensive wine, totally oozing money. VC’s, for sure. With her gold digger attitude, I figured they had a chance to score.
Not two minutes into their flirty approach, she pulled the same I’m so bored with your company shit she’d pulled on me.
I’m thinking Miss Money Crazy has a bit of a complex. (If anyone can think of a good urban slang term to describe her, feel free…)
Coming soon: I’ll post about a second date I recently had with a different woman, that led to a totally different reaction on her part… (drunken texts are a very good thing)
If you liked this first date sizzle to fizzle post, you might also enjoy:
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November 3rd, 2009
Posted in
dating |
24 comments
