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Published August 27, 2009 More Info »
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Published August 27, 2009
 

Compromise, we all have to at some time in our lives. When we want something bad enough we might cross that imaginary line we created in our imaginary sand to get it. I have looked at that line many times. Many times it was crossed and others, well lets just say there was split second contemplation to never ever, ever cross the line. Anyone who knows me for more than ten minutes will tell you that I'm opinionated. Some might even say that I'm picky as well. Opinionated, yes. Picky, maybe. I'd say I'm particular. To me picky and particular are not synonymous. They are completely different. Picky is being a pain in the ass in any situation, particular is knowing what you want and sometimes compromising while not having to whine about it. There are things that I like and there are things that I don't, everybody has their opinions. But when it comes to certain things I will not cross the line. There are certain things that gross me out. Things that when I think about them, I feel sick, to the point of having that wretched feeling in my gut. I hate that feeling.


When it came to the opposite sex there were certain attributes that I could compromise on and there were others that made me stop and turn away. Later in life I would refer to them as deal breakers. People would ask “why did you break up?” or “why didn't you continue to date them?” and my answers, frank as they were, shocked most and appalled some. These are some of my deal breaking experiences in the dating realm.


That moment when you meet someone for the first time, that impression lasts forever. You can't change it. It's like the first line of the constitution. It's permanent. For most, we notice the physical and mental and for some, it's the other way around. I know that not all is revealed the moment you meet someone. They are almost always on their best behavior, trying to be socially acceptable and such. And why wouldn't they? We are told to always put out best foot forward. But we always keep certain flaws secret, until they are exposed, either by accident or on purpose. And some of them are deal breakers.


I met a girl one time, at a bar on the Upper East side of Manhattan, when I was in my early twenties. We met in the conventional way, she approached me. She was about five feet six inches tall, dirty blonde hair down to her shoulders, light brown eyes, and to me, well above average in looks. She was wearing a business suit, so she had a good job. Nice, no deal breakers, yet.


“Hi, did you go to Binghamton?” she said in a very Long Island accent. I am not a fan of the Long Island accent, I was hoping that she didn't live there.


“No, I didn't.” I said as she turned away to walk back to her friends.


About twenty minutes go by and she comes back and says “Are you sure you didn't go to Binghamton?”


“No, I didn't. You must have me confused me with someone else.” Again she turns and goes over to her gaggle of friends.


Now I start to get annoyed. My friend turns to me and says “Dude, she likes you. If she comes over next time tell her you went to Binghamton.” Well that's not going to happen, but I start to get drunk and the night is still young, I'm sure I can think of something else to say.


About an hour goes by and guess what? She comes by a third time and says “You look like this guy I had a crush on at Binghamton, my name's Melissa, nice to meet you.” Either it was the alcohol or I refuse to notice, but the Long Island accent seemed to be diminishing.


“I'm Steve, nice to meet you Melissa. What are you drinking?”


I make my way to the bar, order two beers go back to my new friend. We drink our beer and share a decent conversation. I find out that she's a CPA, is from Long Island, lives in Manhattan and does not have any roommates. We decide that we like each other well enough to exchange numbers. This was on a Friday Night, that Sunday I had plans to go to the Bronx Zoo with friends. I figured I'd call her the next day and ask her if she wanted to go. She leaves, I stay and close the bar down.


That Saturday, my friend calls and asks about my new found friend. I give him all the details and he said she was hot I should call her soon. I normally don't take people's advice when it comes to women, I just do my own thing, but this time I figured what could it hurt.


First phone calls were always nerve racking to me. But nonetheless I make the call and she sounds surprised to hear from me. I tell her I enjoyed meeting her and was wondering what she was doing tomorrow. And then she asked “I have a question, why did you call today?” I'm thinking this is a trick question. Why would anyone ask that? I was confused.


“Well I thought you might want to go to the Bronx Zoo with me and some friends, should I not have called?”


“Ummmm no, it's fine, can I call you later to let you know?”


“Absolutely”


We exchange goodbyes and I'm left with thinking, what the hell? A few hours go by, and Melissa calls back. She said she'd be more than happy to come to the zoo. We agree to meet at Grand Central Station, at the Clock of course. I call my friends to tell them I'm bringing a new friend. No objections, we are all good to meet up the next day.


I meet Melissa at the Clock and she looks great. We kiss on the cheek and we are on our way. The day goes great. She then tells me about a book called “The Rules”. This was the reason she sounded surprised to hear from me. I had no Idea about this “book”. Melissa tells me all about this “book”. I tell her I don't have many rules and I was glad that she came out with us today. We decide that you can break the rules and we go out to dinner. Conversation is great, we have a few drinks and she asks me back to her apartment. Check please!


I was always intrigued how other people live. Especially women. Were they messy, was their bathroom in disarray, did they have dishes in the sink? Well, Melissa was clean and so was her apartment. No deal breaker, yet. We have a few beers, and things get heavy. There is nothing like the feeling of getting to get to know someone on an intimate level. It's like you are exploring uncharted territory or having a meal that you've never experienced before. You don't know what to expect. We are enjoying each other and decide to take it into the bedroom. More clothes come off and bases are being rounded.


I'm rounding second and then I notice it. The deal breaker. I get to third and it's as if my hand entered the Amazon jungle. It was hot, humid and felt as if there was thatch in there. I pull my hand out and stop everything. Its not the seventies and she didn't seem to be the burning bra-au natural-afro bush type of girl. She looks surprised. I tell her I have to leave, you know, work in the morning, blah blah blah. She asks me if I'm sure and I tell her, unfortunately yes. I gather my clothes, put my shoes on and just like a bolt of lightning, I'm gone in a flash. I'm on the subway reflecting on the situation and an old Andrew “Dice” Clay dirty nursery rhyme pops in my head. “Mary Mary quite contrary trim that pussy it's too damn hairy”. Yes I know, I'm a sick bastard.


Three days go by and Melissa gives me a call. Was wondering if we could meet for drinks. Sure, I'll meet for drinks, but that's about it. We agree on a place to meet and she asks why I left so abruptly the other night. I get right to the point and ask her “did you know how hairy you were down there?”


“Yes, I think shaving is gross. I have never shaved or trimmed down there.”


“Well that's why I left. I'm not into that much hair down there. Hasn't anyone ever said anything before? I can't be the first.”


Allegedly that was the first complaint she had ever heard. I didn't believe it. But none of that mattered. Not shaving or trimming down there, deal breaker. Then I get to think about other guys and what their reaction was. These are some I came up with: I like the feel of Brillo pads on my face. Sure it's a bit hot, but it's winter and my balls are really cold. My teeth could really use a flossing. Great shock absorption. Man, that would look good braided. Again, I know I'm a sick bastard.


Needless to say, I did not go out with Melissa again. I have my own set of rules and I was not about to break them.


A other deal breakers that I've had included a hairy nipple. How does a woman not know that she has a two inch hair protruding form her nipple? Exactly, she does, but apparently doesn't think it was wise to pluck it. Did she think it was going to grow thicker? Fuller?


Big Toe Thumbs would also be an automatic deal breaker. Megan Fox has Big Toe Thumbs. Yes she is beautiful, but those Big Toe Thumbs are a deal breaker for me. I couldn't stop looking at her Big Toe Thumbs. Yes, I know what people say, you're crazy. Don't you know how hot she is? Yes I do but she has Big Toe Thumbs. Seriously, she always hides her thumbs.


I know I'm not perfect and I'm sure some people could find deal breakers with me. And I'm OK with that

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