Catch-Up Part #1: Nacho Libre Man Coma

Note: All names have been replaced with much funnier ones that either I or my friends came up with. This blog was not set up to make friends. If I talk sh!t about you, deal with it. I’m here to tell the truth like I see it. HA! (A bit long, so read it over your lunch break.)

So I turned 29 a couple of months ago and felt that it was only fair to catch my readers up on the significant misadventures of the past 2 months. There are really 2 significant events that happened in this short period of time that any of you would really care about and the first of these is the Nacho Libre Man Coma. This story of course will explain the reason why I am still single and why the guys in Miami seem increasingly lack luster with each one I date. I will preempt this entire story with the fact that this guy is so clueless, he probably won’t figure out that this story is about him.

This story begins at our 2nd or 3rd annual No Pants Party (my 2nd), where the ladies so sheepishly wear nothing but tops and skimpy pairs of underwear with slutty stilettos. Myself included. I wasn’t planning on attending since I had spent the entire day at a giant tailgate and was pretty much done (as in drunk, toasty, buzzed) for the night but then I thought to myself…”Just go! It’s the days you don’t want to go somewhere that you end up meeting someone.” Which by default should jinx your outing automatically, however I was pleasantly surprised when I met Nacho Libre. It was love at first sight, or at least I thought so in my drunken state. He seemed like a nice enough guy, called me that same night, stressed how much he wanted to see me the day after…etc etc. This was very exciting for me because the love at first sight had proved to be very rewarding the last time it had happened to me. I fell in love with the sh!ttiest human being alive (who will now be referred to as S.H.B.A. as long as this blog continues) in the same way. Could Mel have found love again? Not even close. But the stories that follow about Nacho Libre will render you unable to ever eat nachos again without thinking of this story.

Sept 19, 2009: Mel & Nacho Libre meet, first kiss, could it be love?

Sept 25, 2009: Nacho Libre show’s up for my Birthday BBQ, we don’t get much of a chance to talk but he seems nice enough. More kissing.

Sept 27, 2009: Mel meets Nacho Libre and two other guy friends at a bar to watch the Buffalo Bills play (I hate the Bills but whatever I go with it, he was enthusiastic about seeing me again.) Our friends leave and I stay with Nacho Libre at the bar, shooting the sh!t, taking tequila shots (on a Sunday), and thinking that I hadn’t had such a stimulating conversation in such a long time. I was so happy! (Little did I know that the tequila shots only made him seem 75,000 times more interesting than he really is…only TV show he watches is Man Vs. Food on the Travel Channel…I swear…THE ONLY SHOW HE WATCHES) Nice little scam session in the car, major chemistry (provided by the booz of course)…I proceed to fall further into the coma.

Week of Sept 27, 2009: We see each other a few more times during the week and of course sex comes into the picture. READ CAREFULLY…the sex at the beginning was spectacular!!!! I thought for sure I had found my next boyfriend. I can’t get enough of him and have practically moved him in. This leads to the Sunday Yardhouse Fiasco and beginning of The Nacho Chronicles. Here goes…The waitress comes up to us at the bar to take our orders. Nacho Libre orders nachos and tries to flirt with the waitress so that he can get more cheese (dude…cheese isn’t like liquor…they’ll throw it on there for free…just ask for EXTRA CHEESE). And of course much to my fatass dismay (as I’m chomping on the nachos), he proceeds to tell me how the nachos suck because they have cilantro. “For real, Nacho Libre? They’re supposed to have cilantro…they come with pico de gallo, which is of course mainly comprised of cilantro.” He denies this vehemently and then proceeds to embarrass me further and asks the waitress to toss his chicken fingers in a barbeque garlic sauce. WTF? “We’re not at the ale house, Nacho Libre.” Of course, no garlic sauce at the Yardhouse so the chicken fingers suck as well. By the way…out of the 130 beers that Yard House has the only effin beer that Nacho Libre drinks is Amber Bock. ALWAYS! GROSS!

Fast forward a few weeks where he stands me up for an event I was chairing because he thought I told him it was at night after I had sent him 45 text messages to be there at 2pm…but whatever I’m over that. I chucked it over to the same reason I mentioned in my first paragraph…clueless.

I forgive him for this incident and we continue to try and work things out. Fade in to the Sports Exchange/Duffy’s Tavern Debacle. At this point, you will note that the only times I really ended up going out with this guy was to go see the Bills play at random sports bars. Not as romantic as I would’ve liked but it seems tough to get him out of his routine…creature of habit? Whatever…let me not get into what I really think.

We arrive at Sports Exchange after he’s asked where we’re going about 45 times (clueless). By the way, my sister is with me this time around and she bears witness to Nacho Libre’s “shortcomings”. The waitress comes around to take orders and of course he tries to get an 80 ounce jug of Amber Bock for the table. “Nacho Libre…for real? No one else likes Amber Bock.” He then proceeds to place his order of nachos, “hook it up with the cheese, will ya?” wink wink. I look over, roll my eyes…can you say EXTRA CHEESE!?!?! The nachos come and my sis and I proceed to devour half the plate by ourselves, but once again, Nacho Libre is disappointed with the nachos…why? They have NACHO CHEESE on them instead of melted real cheese. They’re effin NACHOS, Nacho Libre…what did you expect!?!?

Wait…it gets better. We have some issues with the 80 ounce beer vats and decide to go to Duffy’s Tavern. My sis reminds us of the fact that they only take cash there. Nacho, of course, asks us to stop at an ATM about 10 times, to which my sister responds each time, “they have an ATM at the bar..don’t worry.” Order time at Duffy’s…Nacho Libre – “Yeah, let me get a pitcher of Amber Bock and do you guys have nachos, because I don’t see them on the menu.” At this point, I’ve lost all respect and start to laugh hysterically with my sister. It’s open season on Nacho!!!!!! Woot Woot!!! Sh!t, there goes the sex. Whatever ragging on him was more fun and that’s when I realized I needed to snap out of the Nacho Libre Man Coma. (The things a few good romps in the sack will do to your judgement…well that’s what my mother tells me at least).

But to continue the brief finale at Duffys…Nacho Libre proceeds to order chicken fingers tossed in BBQ/Garlic sauce…to which the waiter just nods and goes to the back to place the order with the kitchen. (Ha! Nacho really thinks he’s getting them.) Food finally comes and his chicken fingers are dry however, they do come with a squeeze bottle of BBQ sauce. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look more deflated in his life…to which my sister responds with – “would you like me to toss those for you?” I’ll end the story with the moment the bill comes. Everyone pulls out cash and he pulls out his ATM card. Man coma over.

And that, people, is why I’m still single. He was one of the nicer ones and was not only clueless but a little bit of a douche. (Who flirts for extra cheese?)

I will end this with one last thought…another factor for the man coma? He told me he liked me just the way I was. “Don’t change anything!” My heart was pounding incessantly! “Wow! A guy that likes me for me…just the way I am!” That’s when I gain 10lbs (on top of the 20 I was already over) and why P90X comes into my life.

Catch-Up #2: Tony Horton Is My New Boyfriend.