Sheila likes Tequila – Steelheart
I swear to god that my entire life is a fucking soundtrack. Every major event for me and even some of the minor ones, have an accompanying soundtrack. It’s one part musical, one part opera, and one part concert that is constantly going on in the background.
Today is no exception.
Red Pill Dad wrote a totally awesome blog post the other day that specifically dealt with the question of, “Do you give a woman your phone number, or do you take her number from her?” While he definitely came at it from a particular angle and I do happen to agree with him, I can also see the “other side” as well. As a side-note, I’ve had some success with both approaches. To me, it all depends on the context and the woman. More importantly though, Red Pill Dad addressed the pudwacks in the Spergosphere. On that particular topic I agree with him 110% and then some. Maybe that is part of why I do what I do. I got tired of seeing the dipshits doing dipshittery and taking other guys down with them. It’s tough enough out in the world trying to be a Man, let alone have some dumbass filling your head with nothing but pure unadulterated bullshit.
Anyways, while I was reading his article, I was drinking a beer and listening to Steelheart, and the song “Sheila” came on. I have no idea why, but this song reminds me of a woman that I met this last December.
Now mind you, I met her online, and she’s 43 (Gasp! I can almost hear and see the pudwacks pulling their dicks out to have a masturbation circle over what I’m writing about. Dude! I only bang 9’s and 10’s! She’s old! Blah, blah, blah…)
Now, I don’t want you, Gentle Reader, to misunderstand me. I’m not shitting on her. She was an amazing woman. She was under 5 feet tall, 4’9 if my memory serves me correctly, and to a short fucker like me, that made me a literal giant when she stood next to me. She weighed 95 pounds, had an athletic build, and had no children. She was intelligent, had a razor sharp wit, and even had the goth thing going on. Physically, this woman pressed ALL of my buttons. Well, almost all of my buttons. The only thing that I could bitch about was her hair was much shorter than I generally like. But now I’m just being picky.
The red flags…. And oh man, were there red flags…
She was on SSRI’s. She had enough mental issues going on that she was able to get disability from the state. She didn’t have a job and she didn’t work. She didn’t have a car, and she didn’t have a drivers license. And at 43 years old, she lived at home with her parents.
Being on disability is a big one for me. That means she’s on a fixed income with a minimal likelihood that it was going to improve unless things in her life changed in a major way and she was able to rejoin the workforce. I can’t have that in my life. Not in any medium to long term sense. I can’t be the only one bringing in the money. She has got to be able to pull her own weight to some degree.
The not having a car or the ability to drive legally was another big one for me. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a lazy fucker and I like my women to be able to drive to me. I like it when they will come to my house, help me fix dinner, fuck me, maybe sleep over, but then drive their happy asses home the next morning, or even later that same night. The idea that I would have to play chauffeur for her happy ass is not something I wanted to do except maybe once or twice, but after that? Nah.
Did I mention that this poor woman had been engaged and that her fiance had committed suicide? Oh I must have forgotten that one earlier. That was something I learned from her on the first and only occasion that I went out with her. While we were driving to the bar to get a drink is when I learned about her guy and how less than a year earlier, he had taken his own life.
“Sheila” wasn’t ready to date. Why she was on dating apps still blows my mind to this day. She hadn’t dealt with her grief and her loss and here she was, out on the town with a guy who wanted to bang the fuck out of her.
Ultimately “Sheila” and I went nowhere. There was nowhere to go and the writing was clearly on the wall for me. I just wanted to bang because she pressed all of my physical buttons. Given half a chance, I would still take a swing at that one. The red flags though, they are too much, even for me, especially when all I wanted to do was bang.
Not every encounter is a win. Not every date is a lay. Sometimes they “get away,” and sometimes you release them because you know what you are getting yourself into and it’s not worth the energy or the effort. Sometimes the results aren’t worth the price you pay.
I like to think that “Sheila” is getting help for her myriad of ills and issues. I really hope she does. She’s a sweet girl who is highly intelligent, has a fantastic body that she takes a lot of pride in and takes care of, and whether you believe “deserve” has anything to do with anything, I believe she “deserves” another chance at finding love and happiness. She just won’t find it with me.