It’s Raining Men

This isn’t what you think it is. I wasn’t drowning in sausage.

In keeping with the first date theme, I decided I should share this story. It feels a little strange being a straight woman naming one of my blog posts after a LGBTQ anthem, but The Weather Girls’ “It’s Raining Men” is fitting.

“Hi! (Hi!) We're your weather girls and have we got news for you! (You better listen). Get ready all you lonely girls and leave those umbrellas at home…”

Once upon a time, I went to acting school. What happened with that? I quit due to lingering insecurities about my camera presence. Anyways, I went on an audition at the Sheraton in Mission Valley and I met this really pretty French blonde guy who was in the Navy; He was doing some modeling on the side. When I tell you that this man was pretty, I am not exaggerating. He was lean, nice chiseled facial structure, pearly white teeth, platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes like a Siberian Husky.

We wound up chatting and he asked me to hang out with him on the weekend. Needless to say, 18 year-old me was like “A date? With a human boy? It’s happening.”. We wound up exchanging phone numbers and added each other on MySpace (This was 2006 and Tom was still kind of cool). After adding him, I decided to scroll his pictures and show my mother what he looked like. While browsing, I happened upon a picture of him making out with another guy. The guy he was making out with could easily have been an Abercrombie model. Like, no joke.

“God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too. She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do. She brought every angel and rearranged the sky. So that each and every woman could find her perfect guy…”

My face was cracked. My 18-year-old mind crumbled and didn’t understand bisexuality in terms of men liking both men and women. I decided that I wouldn’t confront him about it via text but rather over dirty chai tea lattes at Lestat’s.

Fast forward to Friday night. I was searching for a vehicle because I had just graduated high school; My parents dropped me off at the coffee house. I noticed there were some PRIDE flags around but having gay family members, it didn’t really bother me.

So, we meet up and have a seat. We place out drink order and after 30 minutes of trying to focus on our conversation but having flashbacks of the kiss, I worked up the nerve to ask: “Hey, so I perused your MySpace and found a pic..”. Midway through my sentence, Mr. “Abercrombie & Fitch” shows up, kisses him in front of me and sits down at our table.

THIS. IS. NOT. A. DATE.

“It’s raining men. Hallelujah, it’s raining men. Every specimen : tall blonde, dark, and lean. Rough and tough and strong and mean..”