Man #20, Spicy Italian Sausage

1 09 2011

Mamma mia!

It is so hard…

…and I mean hard

to find all the desired qualities one wants in one man.


As I mentioned last time, I was really looking forward to meeting the Spicy Italian on Monday afternoon.  Although shorter than me, he had a rock hard body, sounded like a total romantic, and was Italian.  It would appear as though I’d hit the online dating trifecta.



Well, not completely wrong.

The Spicy Italian did indeed have a rock hard body.  He does, in fact, seem like a total romantic, and there is no doubt that he is Italian.  So what’s the problem?

I suppose I should just start at the beginning where most good stories start.

I met the Spicy Italian on Monday afternoon.  It was a beautiful, sunny day, and since I knew from pictures that he was a muscular guy who liked to hang out in the gym, I suggested we meet in front of Jamba Juice at the University Village Mall.  It’s not a particularly romantic setting, but I figured if the need for protein powder were to arise, we’d be set.

When he first saw me walk up, he broke into a smile, and said, “Wow, you are gorgeous! People are going to wonder how I got so lucky to hang out with you.”

So, you see, he scored points immediately. 

We order a couple of Jamba Juice shakes. He did actually order his with protein powder, so, you see, suggesting Jamba Juice turned out to actually be a good call on my part.

We sat and talked at a table for quite while. Well, mostly he talked.  I don’t know what it is about men, but they seem so much more interested in telling their dates about themselves rather than finding anything out about the woman they are with.  I know a lot about the Spicy Italian from our conversation, but I bet, if pressed, there is little he could recall about me. 

First, he is an Italian from New York City, so his accent is not the sexy European Italian accent I am accustomed to. It was more like a Vinnie Barbarino from “Welcome Back Kotter” kind of accent, and this unfortunately, made him sound a little stupid in spite of having a Master’s degree. I don’t want to be shallow, however, so I can get past the accent.  It is even possible that it could grow on me. (As long as I don’t start picking it up, I think I would be fine.)

Second, the Spicy Italian is definitely a romantic. He wants to hold hands, kiss, snuggle.  He has kind brown eyes. At one point in our conversation, however, he said, “At this point in my life I’m looking for a long-term relationship. I don’t feel like having my heart broken again.”

Oh, fuck. You know all sorts of alarm bells went off for me when he said that. I’m not ready for a long-term relationship. Over the summer, I realized that maybe I wouldn’t mind dating in a more serious way again, but to be quite honest, I’m still trying to figure myself out. I still have loose ends (like a divorce) to tie up, and to top it all off, I have 80 more men to date!  If I were to meet the right guy, there are solutions to all of these reasons why I can’t be in a long-term relationship, of course, but at the moment, I’m not compelled to make any major shifts in the way things have been. So, I hear him say this thing about not wanting to get his heart broken, and I have a little internal freak out. I’m not someone who likes intentionally hurting people, and he seems to really like me.

Breathe, breathe…

He continued to talk, and I realized there were also some key differences around the issue of money, which would make us completely incompatible.  First of all, he drives a big SUV, and I’m a bit of a tree hugger.  I don’t believe in spending a lot of money on cars or gas and an SUV just seems like a lot of wasted resources.  Only once in my life have I ever purchased a brand new car, and it was a mistake.  I always buy my cars one or two years old, and then drive them until they have no more life left in them.  I’m not one of these people who has to have the latest model car, purse, shoes, or jeans so that I can impress people. I really don’t care what people think of me in my trusty little Jetta. It’s paid for, it gets good gas mileage, and it can fill a gap in traffic faster than any other car I’ve ever owned.

Also, the Spicy Italian likes to occasionally go to the casino. Oh no! I don’t like throwing my money away like this either.  I don’t play the lotto. I don’t play bingo. I don’t go to Vegas to gamble.  I don’t know what amount of money I would need to have to feel like I could just piss it away at a card table, but I know it’s not happening for me any time soon.  I also know myself well enough that I would have serious issues with a partner who did, so Spicy or not, we are not destined for a long-term relationship.

Confession here. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a cheap skate.  I even buy single-ply toilet paper.

Don’t hate me.

Finally, one thing that was not apparent in his pictures and didn’t become apparent until I was sitting across from him is that he’s missing a tooth.  You can tell he’s self-conscious about it, because he keeps his hand in front of his mouth when he’s talking.  Apparently, he had a false tooth for that spot and it accidentally got thrown away at a restaurant.  It will cost a little money to have it replaced, so he hasn’t replaced it.

So here’s my issue.  If he utilized his money more wisely and chose a cheaper car, maybe he would have money left over to fix his tooth.  Or, at least he could buy a pack of dominoes or some Chiclets to use as a replacement.  I have never had a lot of money, which is probably why I’m such a penny pincher, but I have always tried to make sure that I looked professional.  Missing a tooth is a major thing.

If I were to actually consider dating this guy, I would feel like I was dating down, and quite honestly, a woman needs to feel respect for the man she’s with or the dynamics just don’t work.

I left the date feeling pretty conflicted though. For the most part, I enjoyed the date, the Spicy Italian seemed like a really sweet guy, and he does, in fact, have a hot body. I considered the possibility that maybe I could go out with him again, or maybe just have sex with him.  I know I’ve mentioned that at 5′-8″ tall he’s “too short to ride the ride,” but then I got to thinking. Some of the best sex of my life has been with men who were a couple of inches shorter than me.  It seems like taller men get lazy in bed, like they just want to lie there and be served.  Short men, on the other hand, have always seemed, well,…

…more ambitious.

I know I’m not supposed to get serious with anyone, but as a friend of mine pointed out last night over dinner, just because you have sex doesn’t mean you have to get serious.  The problem, of course, is he likes me.  If I were to have sex with him, there is the chance that he might fall madly in love with me, and I might break his heart.

I couldn’t have that on my conscience.

Finally, it has just come to my attention that My Dating Prescription has been nominated for the CBS Seattle’s Most Valuable Blogger Awards 2011.  Please VOTE every day through September 9th.




12 responses

1 09 2011

I can’t tell you how many times I laughed out loud reading this article! 🙂

I think you summed it up best with “If I were to actually consider dating this guy, I would feel like I was dating down, and quite honestly, a woman needs to feel respect for the man she’s with or the dynamics just don’t work.” I wholly agree with you and think that we should all be honest about it with ourselves when we feel this way.

As for going out with him again, it’s a gray-ish area. If you know he’s not relationship material be honest with him. Of course it’s o.k. to just have sex but not when someones feeling might be hurt as men do without regard. Let the guy know you’re interested in something casual and let him decide if he’s into it.

Good luck!

1 09 2011

Thanks for your comment, eM, and I’m glad you’re enjoying the blog. This grayish area has already worked itself out and will be revealed in my next post. Stay tuned.

1 09 2011
Kathy D

One-ply toilet paper? Really? I am a cheapskate, too, but it always seemed to me that one-ply just means you use twice as much. Hence, no money saved. Still love you, though!

1 09 2011

I think I use the same length of paper no matter what the thickness is, a certain number of times around the hand. It’s a habit thing, I think. Plus, I have never found a double-ply that didn’t leave lint behind. I HATE that!

7 11 2011
Kathy D

I use Kirkland and have never encountered the lint problem there. Of course, you have to buy 36 rolls at a time . . .

7 11 2011

See…I don’t have that kind of space. Maybe we should go in on bulk items and split them up.

2 09 2011
Jai Ganesh « My Dating Prescription

[…] old saying about problems today, however, because I was still trying to decide what to do about the Spicy Italian Sausage.  I knew I didn’t want a long-term relationship with him, but I thought I might entertain […]

3 09 2011

Single ply toilet paper reminds me of a little poem:
“Joe Baker, Joe Baker,
Wiped his butt with a cigarette paper
The paper was thing
Joe’s finger went in…
AND OH’ what a mess Joe Baker was in!”

3 09 2011

That should read… “The paper was THIN..

3 09 2011

Joe was apparently even more tight with his money than I am since he didn’t use enough squares.

7 09 2011
Surrey gal

1. I voted already.
2. Didn’t you mention that you don’t like six packs too much? What has happened there??? Rock hard body lured you into a date? 🙂
3. If you are a cheep skate don’t buy single-ply toilet paper, it’s much less efficient, you need more of it! That reminds me of my mother and my daughter. My older daughter said once: Grandma allows me to use only one square for wee wee and two for poops! Take that, limited toilet paper! 😀

8 09 2011

1. Thanks for voting, Surrey.
2. It’s not that I don’t like six packs. I’m just leary of pretty boys, because they tend to be players. Using a six pack for sex is an entirely different thing.
3. Interestingly enough, my statement about what kind of toilet paper I use has really captured some attention. I will continue to use my single ply paper because it also is sans lint. There is nothing I hate worse than toilet paper that leaves a bunch of lint in the crack of your ass.

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