Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Pistol Packing Pete

As I read about our dating woes, I'm reminded of Pistol Packing Pete. No, that's not his real name. Didn't ya notice the "Pistol Packing" part...I have to protect myself you know.

So, I'm out of town on business and one of my pseudo clients meets me out for a night on the town. Thinking she's just coming out to introduce me to her famous baseball player look-a-like cousin, I'm not very pressed about the situation. (I don't usually go out drinking with the client....but was forced to rethink that when I was told about the cousin.) My co-workers and I are chillin at the bar, taking in the Red Sox/Yankees game when in walks Bertha (just following Jenny's lead on the fake names) with a guy I assume to be her beau. Introductions take place and I come to find out this dude is not her soul mate, but her roommate, Pete. She brought him out with the sole purpose of introducing him to the "awesome chick she met at work"....that would be me folks.

The night ends with me avoiding the fact that Pete is trying to ask me out. I found him to be a nice guy, but not someone I would normally be interested in. He wears 2 gold chains, has an earring and I have to admit it, he had some bad shoes on and we all know that alone is a deal-breaker. (While not totally turned-off by earrings, let's just say it doesn't work for Pete.) Did I mention that he was not really into sports? Why can't I spot a red flag when its two feet from my face, waving like the checkered flag at the Daytona 500???

The next day on way home, my phone rings. It's Pete. He got my number from Bertha, as we had exchanged digits when planning the night out. Blah, blah, blah, long story short, we make plans to go out. First date, not so bad....go out for dinner, take a walk...decent time. I'm still having issues with the jewelry at this point.....but again, trying to be a better person and seeing people for what's on the inside and not so much on the outside.

Date # 2 is where it all goes to hell. Pete says he wants to come to town to cook me dinner....not one to turn down a free meal, whether its at a restaurant or prepared in my home, I say yes. I had also made a decision that I was not going to let some jewelry a pair of bad shoes make up my mind about someone who seemed like a nice guy. Girls, please note here....LISTEN TO THE SHOES....THE SHOES NEVER LIE!!!

Pete arrives at my house with groceries in tow. He comes in, takes off his shoes and I see him take something out of the waist of his shorts. His gun....no, not THAT gun, a REAL gun. Now folks, I'm from a family of men who hunt, so I'm no stranger to guns...but really, do I want a handgun in my home? No, I do not. I ask why he has it.....habit, he says. (Pete is in law enforcement, so he carries one for work, but FYI, he was not working!) So now, not only do I have issues with the fact that he has no style, I'm forced to deal with the fact that there is a pistol laying by my front door. I ignore the gun, eat the dinner and after a couple of glasses of wine (the bought cheap stuff by the way...screw-top), I make out with Pete and come to find that he has his nipple pierced. While some folks are turned on by a chunk of metal through the nipple, I personally, am not.

Time goes by (a week, I think) and Pete and I are supposed to go out again. The more I think about the impending date, the more I don't want to go. I figure I'd suck it up and go out and give Pete another chance, but when he tells me he's not sure which pants to wear because his gun doesn't fit in them.....ummmm...excuse me????? Yes folks, he was really going to bring his gun to dinner.....at restaurant! Who does that?

This of course, was the end of Pistol Packing Pete.......and the inspiration for my novel "Guns, Gold Chains and Bad Shoes.....Who Not To Date"

14 Comments:

At 9:53 AM, Blogger Kayla said...

I can't believe you left off the MOST important detail... He wore JORTS. My friends, no man should EVER EVER EVER wear jean shorts. Ever. Period. Michelle, I do agree that you can tell a LOT about a man by his shoes. (I prefer some trendy sneaks myself).

And, seriously, what guy does NOT like sports?! Did he not realize that you are Ms. ESPN?! Sheesh.

 
At 10:09 AM, Blogger MMH said...

You are mistaken my friend...he wasn't a wearer of the jorts...the only good thing! ha ha

 
At 11:18 AM, Blogger Kayla said...

I think we FEARED the JORTS. Damn.

 
At 1:11 PM, Blogger I-66 said...

Ms. ESPN? Where do I sign up?

 
At 1:14 PM, Blogger Kayla said...

Michelle's knowledge of anything and everything sports related puts most men ... make that human beings... to shame.

 
At 1:32 PM, Blogger I-66 said...

I suppose you'll next tell me that she's a soccer player/fan.

 
At 1:35 PM, Blogger Kayla said...

Not a player (correction: not a soccer player), but I am sure a fan. Who doesn't love a soccer player? Amazing... and I mean amazing...legs. Oh, I mean, who doesn't love soccer (sport)?! :)

 
At 2:07 PM, Blogger I-66 said...

I have a game tonight...

but, ironically, it is my legs (or, more specifically, left ankle) that's keeping me out of it.

Bah.

 
At 2:32 PM, Blogger Kayla said...

I read your blog (and have read through some of the archives to get a well-rounded picture of you)I thought you had game every night ;) ha ha.

(On a serious note, I read about your injury, too - and felt for you..)

 
At 2:47 PM, Blogger I-66 said...

That's how it seems... I play for 2 teams and, as a result, have quite a few games here and there and sometimes 2 in one night.

Thanks - the foot's about 90% and, like most players, I couldn't wait any longer to play. Significant self-restraint being showed in not playing tonight, but I'm leaving my gear at home just in case.

 
At 3:59 PM, Blogger Kayla said...

Don't you know? We are going to have significant rainfall tonight (tropical storms, etc etc) and therefore you simply cannot play tonight anyway ;).

And, you totally missed my joke about having "game" (as in "You got game") not playing "a game".. Wait, if you explain the joke it loses it humor. Crap.

 
At 4:02 PM, Anonymous LaborDude said...

I'm no fan of guns either, but I think I speak for my male gender when I say that we have no clue what makes shoes good or bad.

And if we're single, we don't have a good female presence in our life to take us shoe shopping.

Judge us on our shoes at your own peril, since we have no clue what to wear.

 
At 4:14 PM, Blogger Kayla said...

Ladies, please chime in (I have decided I am boycotting work all week - and putting my time to a good cause, blogging)...

Good shoes:
Sneakers - always a "safe bet". I tend to prefer the retro styles myself, but what do I know. Aside from someone without the style to pull it off (and you know what I mean here) wearing solid white sneaks is a no.

Bad Shoes:
Man Sandals - and you know what I am talking about. Burn them. In the summer, wear flip flops (good "shoes")

Good Shoes:
Simple black/brown leather lace up numbers. Think Kenneth Cole or Steve Madden.. or Sketchers.. there are varieties for every budget.

Bad Shoes:
Loafers. Unless for some ungodly reason you have to wear these to work, you shouldn't wear them. You should instead quit your job ;). Even more frightening - loafers without socks.

If the shoes hold a penny, have tassels, slip on (and aren't flip flops) RUN AWAY.

Aside from shoes, I must also mention that pants with pleats look good on NO ONE. Not about shoes, but since we are throwing it out there - thought I would just say it.

 
At 4:41 PM, Blogger I-66 said...

the only "sandals" I own are most commonly referred to as soccer sandals... and even then those are only worn on the way to/from soccer and on quick jaunts out of the house re: to walk my dogs, run to the car, quick errands such as getting gas or a slurpee.

speaking of sneakers, since I can't find the left one of my current most-often worn pair (with the injury a couple of pairs of shoes were separated since I was only wearing one), it's time to buy a new pair.

And by the way -- unrelated to shoes but instead to sports, I am attached to more than one blog, you know.

 

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