Last Friday, on my day off, I spent a couple hours hanging out at my hairdresser's. I was his first appointment of the day, at 10:30 in the morning, and he was a bit slow getting himself going for the day (which was fine with me, I'm that way too sometimes). He gave me a little color, boosted up my red highlights, which took a while; and he gave some foil highlights to a blond girl while I was letting my highlights sit, went back and forth between us, so the three of us - the only ones in the salon that morning - chatted lots about celebrities and the bar scene and the dating scene and gossip and whatnot. You know, the important stuff.
So we got into this thing with Sandra Bullock and her cheating, tattoed, motorcycle-loving husband. We all agreed that Sandra is pretty and cool and nice and funny, and doesn't deserve to be cheated on, especially in such a grossly public way. But then they said that Jesse James is kind of gross, and she should be with someone better anyway. And I had to disagree with them there, at least to a certain extent. I mean sure, it makes him seem kinda gross that he's apparently fucking any tattoed implanted biker chick that comes his way, while he's married. But as far as their initial getting together, I can totally see how Sandra could've gone for him.
He's hot. He's big, he's built, he's tattooed, he has awesome eyes and long hair, and he seems edgy. I think he's sexy. I think he's hot. I would totally fuck him. At least, if I were Sandra when she first met him, I totally would've fucked him. (And apparently he has a big dick, according to one of his mistresses. And I would bet everything I own that he's good at fucking.)
Jeff, my flamboyantly gay hairdresser, and Amy, the little blond dental hygenist getting foil highlights same time as me, totally disagreed with me about the hot and sexy stuff though.
We moved on from talking about celebrities' dating lives to talking about our own dating lives, and we got to talking about online dating services. Jeff doesn't think they work; he hasn't tried one, but he thinks that people who sign up for match.com, for instance, just keep getting paired up with one another, and basically all end up going on dates with and having sex with the same people. Like a 6 degrees of separation kind of thing, only in more of a three degrees of whoriness kind of way.
So I told him about my past experiences with eharmony, and how I ended up dating a couple people from there I really liked and was well matched with, including the hometown guy who I had a pretty good relationship with for a while there. Jeff asked me how many matches I got in general, from the site I mean, and I told him I might get 8 to 10 matches every 2 to 3 days. He said he couldn't believe I met that many people; I told him I didn't really spend much time getting to know most of them, that in fact there were a lot of freaks that were sent my way. "But they matched you with those people, right?" he asked. "Well, yeah, based on questionnaires and personality tests and stuff, but, you know, bad matches are still going to slip through; some people are just freaks, and some people might just be doing that kind of shit as a joke, not taking it seriously, saying stupid stuff about themselves," I told him.
"Um, Sadie," he said, "I think if they matched you with freaks, it's probably because, well, you're a freak yourself. Well, hey, you think Jesse James is hot, so what am saying; you ARE a freak." Amy nodded her tinfoiled head in agreement.
I'd call Jeff a freak himself, in his own way. Which makes me wonder; if he thinks I'M a freak, then what the hell ... when it comes to men and sex, maybe I am.
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Well, you know, there are good kinds of freaks and bad kinds of freaks.
I hope I'm the good kind :)
And actually, come to think of it, the guys I've dated and liked the most, felt most comfortable with, and had the best sex with, all describe themselves as a bit of a freak too. But I don't think the average person would think that of them in general, at least on first meeting them; it's more that that's how they thought of themselves, for whatever reason, deep inside. Which I guess is how I am too; I doubt the average person I meet would see anything about me to make them think I'm any kind of freak, but yet I can't help but think that I am, on the inside. Huh.
Of course, there are freaks and then there are freaks. Maybe with me, and the guys I tend to like, it's not so much that it means being weird or whatever, as much as it does just feeling like it's a smaller percentage of the people you get to know that you actually have real stuff in common with. I guess if it's less often that you get to know people who you feel a real connection with than not, then you start to feel like there's something freakish about yourself.
Interesting thought.
Or not, I don't know, I'm a bit drunk right now.
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