The Days and Nights of Robierto

Friends, I am not much of a party goer. In fact, if I am being honest, and I would like to think that I am, I HATE parties. I shouldn't say "hate ", I like parties that have, oh I don't know, maybe 2-3 people attending. Once we hit 4 people in one room, socially I feel obligated to leave. It's too loud and the social responsibility to talk to all those people is just too much. Am I right? Last night, I attended a party. When I entered the party there was about 3 people mulling around. We had appetizers, we shared some laughs, it was fantastic. 15 minutes later, all of a sudden there was a steady stream of people flooding the party. Little by little I was pushed into the breakfast nook holding my virgin mint julep and meatball on a tooth pick. I couldn't hear, and I really wasn't the center of attention any more. At this point the voice inside me said, "Um-kay, it's time to go," There was a slight problem friends, there was a sea of peop

I love blind dates. They are my preferred method of meeting people. False . I hate this medium of dating. It is terrible and needs to be stopped immediately. People try to set me up on blind dates all the time and they have come to find that I am no longer subscribing to that method of social interactions, as it never ends well for me and I am pretty sure it is a major cause to my irritable bowel syndrome, or IB as I like to call it. But my friends have found a cleaver loop hole which I like to call the blind, blind date. It goes a little something like this. My friend will invite me over for, let's say a BBQ. They tell me, "We haven't seen you for a long time and would love to have you come over and catch up. You are such an amazing human being and would love to have your influence in and around our children." How could I not pass up free food and such flattery. So I show up with the expectation of spending some quality time with friends, when out of the

Do you ever find yourself in a place, where normally it is not acceptable to be, but then you have a genuine reason to be in that place, but everything inside you says you shouldn't be in said place? Let me explain. So, I am in a play and have to wear make-up. And for the first time in my life I have had to go to a place that feels so foreign to me, The Make-up Aisle. I get so self conscious in the make-up aisle, as soon as another human comes walking down the aisle, I bolt like a startled deer. No joke, I have made three separate attempts to buy the required make up and have ended up running to my car in absolute panic, rocking and crying in the back seat. So yesterday, was the final day I could go to get my make-up before the our dress rehearsal. So I drove to the Walmart, took a deep breath and plunged into the make-up aisle. I was immediately overwhelmed with the the selections, colors, and different items of make-up for purchase. Wouldn't you know as soon I wal

So the other day my coworker was trying to line me up on a blind date, as all good coworkers do. She gave me the typical run down about this girl she wanted to set me up with, how we had a lot in common, how tall she is, how she had like two masters degree and knits bandages for Syrian refugees, etc. And then she added this little caveat which seemed oddly out of place, " Oh, and she is really pretty, but my husband thinks she looks like a witch ."  " OK, Yep,...wait, what was that? " " Yeah, my husband thinks she looks like a witch . But you are going to love her. " So, I am not an expert on setting up people, but you might not want to lead off with the phrase, "I want to set you up with my friend who looks like a witch ." In fact, leave the similarities to her being " witch -like" out of the conversation all together. When you describe your friend as a witch , you are driving a nail into her "blind date" coffin, or

Do you ever go to Wal-Mart and your entrance and exit strategy is correlated upon the location of the Salvation Army bell ringer? Now don’t get me wrong friends, I believe in the Salvation Army and all the good they do, but seriously who carries around cash any more to drop into the bucket? And let’s be honest, it does cause some unnecessary guilt when I don't donate, for which I do not need at this time in my life. So what do I do? Well like most Americans I simply avoid the cause of pain and discomfort by completing avoiding the Bell Ringer all together. So as I pulled into to the Wal-Mart I noticed the Bell Ringer was stationed at the east entrance, so naturally I walked the extra hundred yards to the west entrance. And I chuckled to myself, “ This is too easy, how cleaver I am?” After I finished my shopping I was heading for the west exit, when to my shock, guess who was stationed in front of my only escape from the Wal-Mart? Yes,OK, well yeah…obviously

So I was out in Elberta, UT, "cow country" for those of you from the city. It is was OUT there friends, we are talking 1 hour and a 1/2 from modern civilization. After I had finished my work there, a man approached and said that his wife had dropped him off at work that morning, but he was "in charge" of finding a ride home, and wondered if I could give him a lift. This is awkward for a couple reasons. First, who leaves their spouse to find away home an hour and half away? And who asks a perfect stranger to drive them home? And who in their right mind would consent to drive that perfect stranger home? THIS GUY! Before we proceed with this story I must tell all my gentle readers that I am not a "talker". I am a great listener and am extremely good at making sarcastic quips, but "chatty", I AM NOT. I have 7 really solid conversation starters, but once I have maxed those seven questions out, I am done. If people like to talk, these questio