Let’s talk about…

…Too Many Options!

Couple weeks ago, I was sitting and contemplating the “tragic” state of dating these days when a friend suggested that I read “Modern Romance” by Aziz Ansari.  And I have to say, Aziz is on point!  If you haven’t read it yet, I suggest it. For. Sure.  But this isn’t a post or even a review of this book.  I’m not getting paid to promote it though I wouldn’t mind doing that…Aziz, hook a sister up!

So anyway, what stood out the most to me was how online dating is actually terrible…which I already knew.  There are way TOO many options out there so people don’t really want to get to know anyone.  They would rather find the easiest prospect and go with that. I’ve written about my dates and see that that has been a trend.  How many times has a guy set up a date with me a week or a couple days in advance and then blown me off?  THOUSANDS!  Ok, ok, maybe not that many but it sure as hell feels like it.  But in the last 5 years or so, when I get asked out in advance via text or email of course, probably 98% of the time I get blown off.  Why?  Because there’s always a better option.  There’s always a thousand better options out there and these guys pick the easiest one they can.  Whether that means the easiest to sleep with, the closest to them, the one that responds the fastest, or whatever the hell the reason.  But asking someone out and then getting excited about the date and preparing for it and planning something fun is a waste because they just decide to go out with the easiest one.  And it all depends on mood.  Honestly, I’ve done this.  If I don’t feel like going out, I just won’t go.  I don’t usually come up with excuses but I have cancelled dates if I wasn’t feeling the guy, or feeling good, or feeling like getting out of my pjs.  But I can honestly say that I’ve never asked a guy out in advance and then just went out with a different person instead or blown them off without explanation and not rescheduled.  I should mention when I cancel because I’m lazy, I try to reschedule. This usually shows me that the guy wasn’t ever planning to go out because they usually never respond.  I’ve also never waited for a better option before making a date.  If I am interested in the guy and we set up a date, we’re gonna go…unless of course I’m tired haha.  But if I’m really feeling you, I won’t be “tired.”

I feel like I’m babbling and not making my point.  I’m slightly tired haha.  But honestly, there are soo many options for people these days that when a better option comes along there is no commitment to the other person.  Sometimes people blow you off completely but other times they come up with some excuse and then never talk to you again.  I often wondered why even make the date in the first place, but now I know what’s happening.  They got a better offer.  Maybe the next girl on tinder promised sex and since I didn’t, they went with sex.  Especially if that’s what they wanted anyway.  Maybe the next girl who messaged them on OkCupid was more attractive and the only day she would go out with him was the day that I would go out with him.  “So long, T.S.! This lady is hotter.”  Or maybe they asked out 15 people because dating is a numbers game after all (sarcasm by the way) and they chose the better option.  I guess that’s it.  There’s always a better option out there because there are so many damn options.  And maybe I’m just bitter because I’m not the better option.  That’s possible.  I’m not perfect or special, I’m just me.  So if someone asked out 15 people, and the better option said yes after we set up the date, I guess I get bumped.  There’s no commitment there.  There’s no feelings involved yet.  There’s also no decency.  If you are going to make the date, even with other options, why the fuck can’t you just go on the first date and then schedule the other options on another day.  After all, you already made plans.  But why would anyone want that?  The grass is always greener on the other side and people are so full of FOMO (or the fear of missing out) that they can’t even chose someone to go on a date with, go on the date, and then see where that may go with someone.  Nope.  Instead we want to swipe as fast as possible on Bumble and then send the same lame ass message to everyone and hope someone says yes. If 23 people respond, then we play the numbers game again and see who might want to go on a date…but we keep swiping right?  Because who knows if the 45 we matched with are good enough?  Who knows if anyone will respond?  Who knows if the next person you swipe is the one?  So you must swipe them all!!  You must keep swiping  until someone agrees to a date and then you must still Never. Stop. Swiping!  Or go on the date.  Because nobody is good enough for you anyway.  Amiright?

And this is how online dating turns into a full time fucking job.  Because you can’t just “match” with someone and then see where it goes.  Chat a few times, go on a date and then decide if maybe things could be more fun on a second date. OH NO!  That’s limiting your options people!  You have to try to bang as many people as possible and even if you set up a date for Thursday at 7pm, you can always set up a booty call for 9pm and text other people while you are with those two just in case they are both bummers because you know you have 4-6 people on the back burner just waiting for your precious text to have them come over immediately.  And then you never get to know anyone other than sexually because vulnerability is out and nearing the hundreds on sexual partners is in.  Now before anyone jumps down my throat, fuck who you want.  I don’t care.  What I do care about is when you go on a “dating” site and then only want a quick bang.  Go out to the bars and do that the old fashioned way.  At least that way you actually know what they look like since looks are the only thing people care about.  But Tinder still works for people to find a quick bang at any time of day or night so whatever.  I don’t try to find dates on Tinder anymore.  All those people that found boyfriends on there were liars.

 

Yikes…I am coming off as bitter again.  I swear I’m not.  No really!  I’m just annoyed with the current state of modern dating.  Connecting with people isn’t the issue. It’s the meeting people and having an actual relationship that seems to be the problem.  For example, I am on the site Bumble.   And women have to make contact first or your match gets deleted after 24 hours.  Kind of pushes you to actually talk to your matches.  Well, on the female side.  I always messaged my matches because that’s the point.  Getting a response…not so much.  “Tell me, Asher487, why the fuck did you match with me if you weren’t going to talk at all?!?  Oh, that’s right, you have 379 other matches so you didn’t even see my message.  Carry on.”  So anyway, I’m on this site and I send out these messages and sometimes people do write back.  But I think it’s awkward enough to not write anything on a profile and try to come up with an opening message based on the 2 blurry pictures you posted.  But you only make it more awkward by responding with one word responses.  The Art of Conversation is now lost, thanks to texting and messaging.  Joy.  But here’s one of my interactions cause it sure as hell wasn’t a conversation.

Me: “Hey Mark! I see that you have a huskey.  He’s so cute, what’s his name?” He had nothing written on his profile just a couple generic pictures. So I thought I’d go with the dog thing.

 Mark: “Fido”

Me: “Classic. How long have you had him?”

Mark: “6 months”

Me: Okay, I guess these are closed ended questions but he’s responding so I’ll have to write more…  “So I see that you have been to some cool places based on your pictures.  Besides travel, what else do you like to do for fun?”

Mark: “Things”

Me: “Care to be more specific?”

Mark: “Not really”

Me: “Okaaayy.  What are you looking for on here?”

Mark: “ Heart emoji, Smiley emoji, thumbs up emoji”

Me: Is this dude having a stroke or is he 13 years old.  Why can’t he speak in a full sentence let alone use actual words?  “Man of few words?”

Mark: “I guess.”

Me: “How do you suppose that you will find love and what I assume meant happiness if you don’t say more than two words to someone trying to talk to you?”

Mark: “I don’t know”

Me: DELETE

Was that as painful to read as it was for me to live through it?  Awkward right?  It’s hard enough to start a conversation with someone you don’t know based off of limited information but then you add in the fact that you’re not actually face to face having a conversation where there’s little to no lag time between responses.  Instead, you are sitting there for minutes, hours, days, sometimes weeks before you get a response and if it’s a one-word response, I wonder what the hell the point was?  Why even respond?  If you are that uninterested, then delete me.  Don’t waste my time and make it even harder for me to learn about you by being difficult.  Perhaps that’s why you are online, because you can’t hold a conversation or you’re just a prick.  I’ll go with the latter.  It’s just as bad when you go through several long ass messages learning about the other person and get to the part where you are setting up a date and then you just never respond again.  What gives?  We just talked about all the basics of where you froms, what do you dos, favorite whats its, etc.  And then we both said, let’s grab drinks next Tuesday and then…nothing.  And 3 weeks later you just mysteriously disappeared. Or not so mysteriously.

But anyway, now I’m definitely rambling and I don’t even remember the point of my post.  Oh that’s right, all that is fucked up with dating.  Well, too many options and then not being able to hold a conversation via text are some of the problems.  I think there are plenty of others but I won’t get into them today.  Perhaps another day…

 

Until then my lovely readers!

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Meet Mr. Frat boy Part 4

Now, even though things had been super busy with the semester winding down, I did mention that we still hung out.  I didn’t mention to you all that my dad had passed away when I was a senior in high school.  This may have a lot to do with why I am the way I am, but this isn’t a therapy session.  I bring this up, because he passed the first week of December, and the anniversary of that was coming up.  I didn’t think it would affect me, but it did and I still think about that day, every day on the day, every year.  Needless to say, I was emotional that week.  I had some time and wanted to go visit his grave.  I wanted someone to come with me.  I needed support.  I called Mr. Frat, naturally.  I thought he was my boyfriend and boyfriends go to things like this with you, don’t they?  He didn’t answer.  I sucked it up and went alone, stopping only for gas and some flowers.  I made the two hour trek over and stayed for a couple hours just sitting and talking…to myself, to my dad, to the empty cemetery, to whatever I thought would take the sting away.  It was actually therapeutic.  I eventually made my way back to school, because I needed to get back to the present.  I needed to focus on school, and me and all that.  Now, this is supposed to be a fun, light hearted blog, so I won’t go too much into it or probably speak of it again after this post but it makes sense in the events that took place leading up to Christmas break.

 

I finally made my way back to campus.  I was still an emotional mess and all I wanted to do was crawl into my crappy twin bed in my dorm room and cry myself to sleep.  I didn’t care if that was healthy or not.  I was sad, okay?  Once I was back in my room, my phone started to ring.  It happened to be Mr. Frat.  I don’t remember if I left a message before I left or not, but he called to see what I was doing.  I told you I’m bad at feelings, so I didn’t really know what to say.  I didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of anyone, especially not him, even though I wanted him to come with me.  I didn’t ever talk about the fact that my dad had passed.  He didn’t even know.  Most of my friends didn’t.  It’s not exactly a conversation piece.  So I just told him I had some things to do and just got back.  He asked if I wanted to come over and I didn’t object.  He was out and would pick me up on the way.  I didn’t want to be alone and called him to go with me in the first place, but I was also second guessing talking about it.  I cleaned up a bit and waited for him to walk over.  When he got there we sat on my crappy twin bed and talked for a bit.  He asked me what was wrong, because he could tell I wasn’t in a good mood.  I didn’t know what to say, so instead I just cried.  In front of someone else.  I felt like an idiot on top of it which made me cry more.  He had no idea what was going on, but instead of pressing, he held me and let me cry.  It was the sweetest thing anyone had done for me.  I should say, the sweetest thing a guy has done for me.  My friends let me cry it out when it happened, no questions asked.  They were just there for me.

But this felt different.  I felt like he cared.  I forgot about everything, any arguments, any second guessing our relationship, anything.  I just felt comfortable in his arms.  I finally calmed down and he asked me if I wanted to talk about it.  I told him that I went to see my dad that day and that he died when I was in HS.  Told him today was the anniversary and I wanted him to come with me, but he wasn’t home.  He told me he was sorry and would have gone with and that everything would be alright.  I didn’t want to talk about it anymore though.  I didn’t want to cry and be sad.  He asked me what I wanted to do.  While I did want to just wallow in my sadness, I decided I wanted to be around people.  So we went back to the house and hung out.  I wanted to forget about the day and just have a good time.  And have a good time we did. There were a bunch of people at the house.  We ended up hanging out with them, watching some stupid movies, having a few drinks and just being kids.  It helped me take my mind off of everything.  I ended up staying the night over there and wanting to drown myself in something other than memories, so I wrapped myself in him.  It’s highly possible, that I latched onto Mr. Frat for that reason all along. I didn’t want to be alone, I wanted to feel loved, I wanted to feel like a normal 18 year old.  I could be over exaggerating too.  I’m sort of a drama queen it seems haha.

 

We didn’t talk about it anymore that night.  He didn’t ask me about my feelings and I didn’t share.  I stayed over there and then went back to everything like none of that happened.  We probably should have talked about it.  Maybe it would have brought us closer or maybe it was already too late.  A couple days later Mr. Frat called me to come over and hang out.  I told him I would, but it would be about an hour or so as I was finishing up something for class. On time, about an hour later, I showed up at the house. When I got there, Mr. Frat wasn’t in his room, but his roommate Dave was.  Dave was a little rude or confused, I’m still not sure which, but he said he didn’t know that I was coming over and that Mr. Frat was taking a shower. I decided to have a seat and wait.  He did invite me over after all.  Dave quickly made himself scarce, which was strange, considering he always wanted to be around and interrupt our dates or our freaky time.  Not this time though, he left pretty quickly. A short time later, I’m sure after being warned, Mr. Frat showed up, fresh from the shower.  He seemed really indifferent that I was there.  Said hello and started to get dressed.  I was like, what do you want to do today?  And he was like, “I’m going to the gym to play basketball with my friends, you can come watch if you want.”  Wait, what now?  You invite me over and then decide to go play basketball?  So I’m kinda pissed or hurt, or both.  I was in the middle of doing something, and finished it up just to hang out with you and now you are blowing me off.  Because he was absolutely blowing me off.  I can come “if I want.”  Fuck that.  So I go off.  I was like, first of all, you invited me over to hang out, and now you’re going to play basketball?  And who the fuck takes a shower before they play basketball?  Why the hell did you invite me over if you didn’t want to hang out?  Here’s where he turns it around on me again, he’s like I invited you over and you took too long so I made other plans.   Ouch.

 

So I’m like, “you know what, I’m gonna go.  Have fun playing with your friends.”  I don’t know why he didn’t just let me go.  Not sure what this dude was trying to prove.  Instead, he said he would walk me back to the dorms on his way to the gym, because we “needed to talk.”  Those aren’t just words that men don’t want to hear people.  Nobody wants to hear those words.  In any case, this shit was going down.  I could tell.  Things weren’t the same between us.  He wasn’t acting the same.  So we start walking and we aren’t really talking.  I’m fuming that I wasted my time and he’s silently kind of following behind me.  Once we get near the gym, I slow to a stop and turn around.  I’m like, well have fun.  He stops and says that he doesn’t think this is working anymore.  He tells me that I never talk to him about how I’m feeling and he’s not sure if I even really like him.  And yes, people, he was fucking serious.  I’m seriously blindsided at this point.  He couldn’t be serious.  What did he mean he doesn’t know if I like him?!  I spend all my fucking time with him!  He keeps rambling about how I never tell him I like him, or call him my boyfriend and I hang out with his frat bros without him (knew that was gonna get thrown in my face) and that maybe we need to take some time off.  I’m so mad and hurt that I glare at him and say, “perfect timing to take a break.  Let’s take a break over Christmas break, or hell, let’s just take a permanent break since I wasn’t apparently dating you anyway.”  He’s shocked and says that’s not what he wants, but if I want that then…

I just yelled, “Sure is,” and stormed off.  I tried to walk while I knew I was still in his view and then I sprinted the rest of the way home, up 4 flights of stairs and flopped on that crappy twin bed and started bawling.  Yep, that’s heart break for you ladies and gents.  I think this was the birth of my sarcastic, dysfuncational dating life which is why I am sharing it with you.  When reading this I saw the red flags but you never see it when you’re in it do you? Nope.  You see what you want to see.  His friends saw it, my friends saw it and he obviously saw it…but I didn’t.  I was so stupid and I vowed never to be that stupid again.  I never again wanted to cry over someone.  Not that it hasn’t happened since then, but I’m serious, this is where I went hard in the heart.  Where I gave up on men.  Actually, I take that back…I definitely give up a bit later when I find out other things, but we aren’t there in the story yet…

I finally pick myself up off of my bed and decide to go about my day.  I needed to get things done before it was time to go home for break.  I’m pretty sure I had another final yet.  That next day, a really bad winter storm had rolled in.  I was contemplating when to go home because there was so much snow coming, even though it hadn’t happened yet.  I couldn’t decide if I should try to beat it or wait it out.  While I was contemplating, Mr. Frat called and wanted to talk again.  I hadn’t talked to him since I stormed off and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.  He asked if he could pick me up and chat.  I agreed and he came over and got me.  It was awkward at first but I was stupidly happy to see him and hoping that maybe we could talk it out.  I’d try really hard to actually talk about how I was feeling.  We ended up grabbing some food and not really talking about the actual issue at hand but more of just hanging out like we used to.  We didn’t hug or kiss when he picked up though, so that was definitely different.  Once we were done eating, we sat in his car and talked, for a while.

He told me that he really liked me but didn’t ever know how I felt because I never talked to him about it.  I told him I wouldn’t hang out with him if I didn’t like him and that after all these months he should have realized that.  We talked about our feelings for each other and how weird things had gotten.  He said he didn’t really want to take a break and neither did I, but agreed that maybe it was a good idea since we would be home for break for a month anyway.  I seriously, almost started crying again, but of course refrained because I’m a hardass.  I told him I’d miss him, but we’d talk after break and see what happens.  It’s funny, because he tried to get me to stay with him that day and go home the next day.  I probably could have and gotten one last bang out of the deal, but I was stubborn and just wanted to go home, storm or not.  After my drive home having taken twice as long as usual and almost dying twice thanks to snowy streets, I probably should have just stayed.  The next day was much nicer, but hindsight is always 20/20, in all things.  So I went home and I thought about him the whole fucking drive home.  I kept thinking about where I went wrong, because he made me feel like I was wrong for not being as open with my feelings, even though I felt I was.  It was a pretty shitty feeling.  My first real relationship wasn’t all that real I guess.  I was really good at internalizing my issues though, so that was fun.  At least I kept a journal to get all those pent up feelings out.

In any case, winter break was upon us.  Funny that even though we were on a “break”, we still talked over break.  He called to say Merry Christmas and see how I was doing and say Happy New Year.  I tried to forget about it.  We were on a break, just like Rachel and Ross haha.  I didn’t want to call him.  I wanted to move on.  I cared, but I didn’t like feeling like this and going back and forth.  We went back to school that next January and talked a couple times on the phone and saw each other a couple times but it eventually faded out and we stopped talking.  Probably with going to a small university is that you still see people on campus.  He was also still friends with some of my friends so I still heard stories.  And those stories helped me to not stay hung up on the situation.

Are you ready for this…turns out he was cheating on me the whole time. Not just in the end when things got weird, but the WHOLE time.  With 3 different people.  One being Abbey from the night we got into a fight.  Yep, so he was a big fucking liar.  He must have actually been kissing her, I was just too stupid to believe it.  He was also hooking up with someone on my floor.  He had the balls to sleep with someone on my damn floor.  I could have run into them at any point. I guess his roommate Dave knew about it the whole time too but you know, bro code and all.   My friend who had a crush on Dave, ended up becoming my roommate and we made friends with the girls on our new floor who knew of him and told us the stories.  Don’t worry, he eventually owned up to it, because he thought he was so cool, so I know it was actually true.  I was all worried about him feeling unloved because I was selfish with my feelings but I will not take responsibility for that, hell no.  You don’t cheat on someone just because you are unsure of their feelings.  Especially when you call me your girlfriend and are upset that I didn’t call you my boyfriend enough.  Clearly, we were together, so yes you were a cheater.  In fact, he could have brought the feelings up sooner, rather than sleep with other people.

Now, thankfully, I’m not holding any pent-up anger towards Mr. Frat.  But it is an interesting story to share because it does show you where I’ve come from and what I’ve gone through as a dater.  It’s never pretty and while it is sometimes quite funny, it’s getting quite ridiculous.  I like to think I’ve grown over the years, but I know I’m still pretty hard to get to know and I know there are extra tall walls you have to climb.  But this might be why.  Isn’t going to stop me from trying but damn if this one didn’t sting and set a pretty shitty precedent.

I’d like to think I got the last laugh.  Mr. Frat fell from his graces, pretty quickly.  That girl Abbey?  Yeah she was dating the president of the frat and when he found out she cheated on him with Mr. Frat, he kicked her to the curb and him out of the frat.  He ended up moving into the dorms and getting into a bunch of trouble with other guys on his floor because he’d openly hit on their girlfriends.  He ended up getting mixed with a new crowd who liked to do drugs and proceeded to get kicked off the tennis team at the school and losing his scholarship too.  Yikes.  He literally went off the deep end.  The last time I saw him, he was trying to sell someone weed and looked like shit.  Not the beautiful, boy next door that I remembered.  I felt a little better about myself but of course immediately felt bad, because I’m weird.  I didn’t want bad things to happen to him even though he was a jerk, but life had other plans.  Wonder what happened to him?  Actually no I don’t.  I have bigger fish to fry and more crazy stories to share.

 

I never know when I’ll have time to write or if I should even keep writing.  I’ve of course been on many more dysfunctional dates and it’s been therapeutic to write them out here but it’s hard to keep up with. I feel bad that I’m not more consistent. Maybe I’ll keep going, maybe not.  But I wanted to thank you all for reading and commenting and finding interest in my dysfunctional life.  I hope I’ve brought you laughs and made you feel better about your crazy dates.  I want to wish you all a Happy holidays.  I hope you have enjoy your time spent with friends, family and loved ones this holiday season.  May 2016 bring you all happiness and joy and maybe even some awesome dates.   Until next time!

Meet Mr. Frat boy Part 3

That has yet to be determined.  I’ve never been very good about talking about my feelings.  I think I’ve gotten better about it, but I think I just wear my feelings on my sleeve and not so much open about actually talking about them.  When I like someone, I feel like I show it by spending time with them, but I don’t often say it.  And really, they don’t know that just spending time with them and actually wanting to is a lot for me.  Probably because I don’t explain that.  But if I don’t like you, I won’t continue to spend time with you.  That should be common knowledge.  I don’t know, I worry too much about rejection and just assume things so I assume others also just assume those same things.  It’s gotten me in plenty of trouble and sticky situations, trust me.  I would rather write down how I’m feeling, hence this blog, then straight up tell someone.  I tell my family I love them.  I tell my friends I care about them, but I have a hard time telling a significant other, or someone I want to be my significant other that I like them, care about them, love them.  I don’t know why.  Any psychologists reading this feel free to email me ha.  Funny thing is though, guys, is that I will tell you if you piss me off, or if I appreciate something you’ve said or done, or if I’m sad, but I don’t express love.  I think it’s because I’ve never truly experienced it.  Who knows…

So I thought I was being clear with my feelings because of how I treated him and the fact that I willingly spent time with him.  That was how I knew I actually cared.  I didn’t willingly spend time with many people.  I wouldn’t have had sex with him if I didn’t care about him.  Obviously I hadn’t done it before.  Wasn’t that enough?  Hell, I even held his fucking hand when we were out shopping and called him to say good night and damnit, all the things I thought you did with someone you cared about.  I’m guessing that wasn’t enough.  I don’t know why.  It’s also not like he said much.  He called me his girlfriend a couple times but we never talked about it.  He never said he loved me or anything.  But as I mentioned, I thought he was my boyfriend.  I thought we were in a good place.  I thought we were exclusive.  I thought we were going at a good pace too.  I didn’t want to move to fast.  We didn’t have to get super serious, but I did like spending time with him and being around him.

So here’s where things start to fall apart because we all knew they would.  Right before Thanksgiving, I was planning to hang out with Mr. Frat but he said he was feeling under the weather.  My friends and I got invited over to the house to hang out with some of our other friends so I decided to go anyway.  We ended up in our friends room playing drinking games and doing what stupid college kids do.  I didn’t stop by Scott’s room when I first got there nor did I think I needed to tell him I was there.  He said he was staying in because he was sick, so I figured I would just go up there later to say goodnight, or stay there, whatever works.  I didn’t see anything wrong with that or hanging out with the other guys for that matter.  There were other girls there and again, I was friends with these guys before I started hanging out with him, he knew all of them, we were all friends together.  I knew he had friends who were females, so it is what it is.  So after winning many games of Circle of Death, I went to say hi to my “boyfriend.” Speaking of which, are there ever actually ever winners in drinking games?  The point is to get drunk, but you don’t want to “lose” because you don’t want to drink too much, but you are playing because you know that you’ll eventually drink.  I told you I was competitive though, so I never wanted to be the asshole in Asshole or be the end of a water fall in Circle of Death, or be the last one to get my quarter in in Quarters.  By the way, I played quarters at the bar the other day with some friends and I still go it!  But still you never want to “lose” at drinking games. It’s kind of silly to play to drink but not want to drink.

So anyway,  after a few more games, I head up to Scott’s room to say hello and see how he’s doing.  I had been drinking for a while and it was sort of late but I figured I’d just wake him up.  Instead of waking him up though, I walk in to find him kneeling in front of a girl who was sitting on his bed.  I couldn’t tell what was going on, but it almost looked like he was kissing her.  Um, what in the ever-loving fuck?!  She immediately pulls away when they hear me walk up and loudly knock and say “hey there!”  Both the door to their living room and the door to his room which was right off of the living room were wide open.  It’s not like I barged in.  I still knocked though to make my presence known. I didn’t want to cause a scene because maybe I didn’t see what I thought I did.  However, you know that that is exactly what you saw, you just don’t want to believe that’s what you saw.  Mr Frat sort of sits back and says, “oh. Hey, what are you doing here?” Excuse me?  What do you mean what am I doing here?  You’d think you’d be happy to see me, considering you were so sick you were going to stay in and sleep.  Obviously not too sick to talk to this broad.  I just stared at him and said, “I’m sorry, don’t let me interrupt,” and started to walk out.  Don’t worry, I didn’t do what most women do and punch her but channeled all my anger towards him instead.  She wiped her eyes and started to get up and said she would leave instead.  “She didn’t mean to bother him, she just needed someone to talk to.”  I looked back at her and realized she looked familiar, she was one of the other frat brother’s girlfriends.  I started to calm down a little bit and told myself I definitely didn’t see what I thought I saw yet I kept walking.  I was, also, still pissed.  Because even though she said she should leave, he told her she didn’t have to and tells me to come back because they were just talking. I walked kept walking…just more slowly, and swore on all that was holy that if he didn’t come after me, I would punch him in the dick and never speak to him again.  Luckily, or maybe not so luckily for me, he did come after me.  Looking back, I wish he hadn’t.  Then I could have been pissed at him and just let him go, rather than get my feelings dragged through the mud the next several months.

Instead, she slinked her way out of his room and past me and he came running and grabbed my hand to bring me back.  He could have been running after her for all I know.  I was still fuming but stupidly couldn’t resist this dude.  He explained that he was staying in for the night and was just watching TV when Abbey came and knocked on his door.  They were “only” talking when I walked up.  Apparently her boyfriend, who was his frat brother, were having troubles and since the two of them were friends, she stopped by to ask his advice.  She was crying and upset and he just helped her out, that was all.  Ok, sure.  He was being a nice guy.  It’s possible.  He could be cocky and douchey at times, but he was always sweet with me and even though he would rib his friends, he still would help them at the drop of a hat.  So he was, at heart, a decent dude.  I mean that’s what I thought.  I was naïve after all.

He started to ask me again what I was doing there since when we talked earlier I didn’t mention that I was coming over.  I told him I was hanging out with Kane and the guys on the 2nd floor.  I’m surprised he didn’t know, as his roommate was in there hanging out with us.  I guess if you can’t snap a pic and send a text, you wouldn’t be able to send that info as quickly as you can today and his roommate never left to go tell him.  He did, however, tell me a few times that he was upstairs and that I should go up there.  Maybe he was warning me?  Scott seemed to be irritated that I was there though but not hanging out with him.  I explained to him, what I explained to you guys, which was that I’d known Kane before him and we were just friends.  Since he was sick and didn’t want to hang out, even though I did offer to come over anyway, I decided to hang out with my friends.  He was almost accusing me of doing something inappropriate.  He was clearly deflecting his issues onto me and trying to make me feel bad for hanging out with guys without him.  Jealously, might be the right word.  I didn’t really feed into that as I threw it back at him that he was in his room with Abbey alone, at least I was in a room full of people, doing nothing wrong.  Looking back on this experience, he was definitely manipulative. I wish I could see it when it was happening.  But we kind of fought a bit about who was wrong and who was right and proving that neither of us did anything wrong and blah blah blah.  Again, I should have just left and wanted to, but he talked me into staying.  I wanted so badly for this to work, after all.  For him to actually be my boyfriend and to have someone to share things with.  I didn’t want to believe that he was shitty.  So I stayed.  And I made him feel better the only way I knew how at the time.  Didn’t really make me feel better, but it’s never about me.

 

Thanksgiving came and went.  We still hung out regularly, and never really discussed Abbey again.  We talked over Thanksgiving break too, every. Damn. Day.  When we came back from break, we only had a couple weeks before Christmas break.  Of course, during that time there were finals and all that that so it was a stressful and busy time.  We saw each other over the next few weeks, but not nearly as much as we had.  I didn’t have time so I didn’t really worry too much about it.  We’d still chat and we’d still see each other so I thought all was well.  We moved past the Abbey incident.  We still hung out, we still did what we did. I guess I’m not explaining it all that well but I didn’t see cause for concern, is my point.  We went back to the way things were just spent more time a part though it was for things like class and studying.  I should have known though.  I should have seen the signs.  I should have opened my eyes.  But I must have been so deep in lust that I didn’t see it.  I didn’t want to.  I just wanted things to work out.  Stupid young love I guess.  Though I wouldn’t call it actual Love.  You don’t treat people like this when you are in love.  But it was fun while it lasted.

Meet Mr. Frat boy Part 2

I guess I was wrong about this one.  I was hanging out in my room one day watching Party of 5 or something when the rotary phone in my dorm room rang.  It could have been anyone, it’s not like I had caller ID.  So I answer and to my delight, it’s Mr. Frat boy!  He was actually calling me, on the phone, to actually speak words.  Ok, I’m currently bitter about how texting took over and ruined dating.  That wasn’t the case back in the day and I actually miss it.  There was so much excitement and nervousness and all that associated with calling someone.  It made it so much more personal.  You anticipated calls and dates and getting to know someone.  You didn’t just send out impersonal texts to 40 people in hopes one of them responded.  So he was actually calling me and asking me if I wanted to play with his intramural team the next day.  I’m sure it was just an excuse to hang out but who cares?  I agreed to meet him out and thus got really nervous about our “date”.  Of course it wasn’t a real date, but at least we were hanging out again, in the light of day, completely sober. Holy shit was I nervous!  Even though I like to think I’ve always been this independent women who didn’t need a man to complete her, I still like the attention and after hanging out with him, I actually liked him.  And it takes a lot to admit those things.

 

I immediately call my friend who was with me that night and tell her what just happened.  She is giddy and excited for me and urges me to go regardless of nerves.  We decide what I’ll wear…spandex of course haha and I calm down just a bit.  I decided to not freak out about it and go about my night.  While I did worry about it because I’m a worrier, I tried not to make a big deal over it.  That next night, I made my way over to the gym to meet him anyway and put caution to the wind.  When I walk in, I notice him right away and he’s still as cute as ever.  He sees me and a big smile lights up on his face and he comes over to greet me. There are those damn butterflies.  We kind of look at each other not sure of how to greet, do you hug, shake hands, high five, start making out?? I believe he went in for a hug and it was kind of awkward.  Or Awko Taco (for my reader HeadKels0h 🙂 ) I end up meeting everyone else on the team and am much more comfortable than when I was walking over.  I’m athletic and love sports, so I’m at least confident that I’ll play well.  That eases my nerves even more.  Not to mention that everyone else on the team was so nice and welcoming. All the guys were in the same frat and the girls were their girlfriends.  Kinda weird that I was the only one who wasn’t a gf but maybe that would change. Maybe that was why he invited me?  No, I didn’t want to think of that and add pressure on myself.  So we end up playing and having a good time.  Everyone is laughing and enjoying themselves and we probably ended up winning.  Funny how, even as competitive as I am, that wasn’t what I remembered about that day.  We could have gotten our asses kicked but I only remember this silly boy and how much fun I had.  Does that make me pathetic?  Probably.  After the match we all hang out for a bit more, getting to know each other and then end up going out separate ways.  Not before I’m invited to hang out again this weekend. Looks like I scored another date! How exciting!!

Now I won’t go into every single date but I will say that we began to hang out on a consistent basis.  Either in a group, at our intramural games, or over at his place or out in public.  It would seem as if though we were dating, because that’s what dating is right?  Going out on dates? Hanging out together?  Calling each other, talking to each other daily, all that jazz.   There were a few times where he would ask me out to dinner and then invite his roommate, which was annoying to say the least.  I didn’t mind his roommate but I kinda wanted to hang out with just him.  When I’d hang out at his place, this same roommate would always try to tag along.  I tried to get him to call my roommate instead, because she still had a big crush on him but he apparently wanted to watch TV with us, or go to dinner with us, or the dining hall or the gym or where ever the fuck we were.  Maybe that was a red flag.  I mean we did hang out alone, but we still would have to hang out with Dave all the time.  Dave was getting on my nerves.  I should also add that we hadn’t had sex yet.  I’m also not a very affectionate person, at least I wasn’t back then.  I never hugged my friends in greeting or would hold hands with a boy just because.  I liked kissing and sexual things at this point but if we weren’t doing that, it was like we were just friends.  Looking back, I know that was my hold up.  I know he tried to hold my hand or put his arm around me or all that and I just would laugh it off or move away.  I don’t know why it made me feel uncomfortable.  I’m a big hugger now but still don’t hold hands all that often.  Also not a big fan of PDA, still.

 

We met at the beginning of the semester as I mentioned.  And while we never had “the talk” he was the only guy I was talking to and we talked every day and saw each other quite a bit.  I spent most weekends I was in town with him.  In fact, I spent most of my free time with him.  I still hung out at my brother’s frat house, but I didn’t dare tell them about Scott.  They didn’t like that frat and didn’t like me talking to boys haha.   It was now coming up on Halloween weekend.  Generally in college, this is a big party time.  I’ve always loved Halloween and dressing up and all that, so I assumed this would be just as fun but with drinking.  I was sure there would be big parties and lots of fun to be had.  I’m really sad I can’t remember what I dressed up as.  That was always my favorite part and I’m sure it was as clever as it was “sexy”.  But it’s slipping my mind.  In any case, my roommate and I and a couple other friends were going to head to the frat house for a Halloween shin dig.  I’m sure there was some big elaborate set up and ridiculous amount of alcohol to consume.  Most of the frats threw really fun parties.  So we get dressed up and head over.  I drop my things off in Scott’s room and head down to the party.  Since we didn’t have cell phones readily available, I couldn’t text to find him, I just had to find him.  I knew quite a few people in the frat now including girl friends or girls who regularly hung out there.  Most of them knew who I was there to see as well.  Made it easier to find guys.  I should mention, that I made friends with other guys there before I started seeing Scott.  And there would be times that I would hang out with them still and not with him.  That will come in handy to know a bit later.  We eventually met up and ended up having a good time.  There was lots of sweaty dancing and of course some beers.  My friends were having a good time with his friends and it was seemingly the perfect night.  I couldn’t imagine having a better time.  College really was the best time ever!  I actually really fucking miss college.  Oh to be responsibility free again.  I mean I always had a job in college and got great grades but there were the same stresses and burdens as there are now and I’m really grateful for that.

 

Anyway.  This also seemed like the perfect night to get it on.  I’m pretty sure I had been thinking about this for forever.  Frankly, we never discussed it.  He never pressured me to do anything.  I never felt like I needed to.  But this night, I really wanted to. Like really, really wanted to.  I had just enough to drink to have liquid courage but not too much to not know what the hell was going on. Now here’s the point that you should stop reading if you don’t want to read about my first time.  You’ve been warned.

So even though I didn’t drink that much and neither did he, it doesn’t mean we left the party.  We were enjoying ourselves all night long.  I said I didn’t like PDA and yet there we were making out in the seedy basement party.  I had lost track of all my friends.  They probably told me where they were going and yet I didn’t notice.  Yeah, I’m a terrible friend.  So Mr Frat and I decide to head up to his room.  He’s thinking we’re going to have some fun, but doesn’t realize how much. We get to his room and clothes start flying.  It’s like the perfect storm of clothes and kissing and panting and all that. In all actuality, it was a sloppy mess of tripping and laughing and stepping on shoes and stubbing toes on chairs and hitting our heads on the bunk beds as we fell into it.  But that’s real life.  We keep making out and clothes are gone and we are in our own little world.  After some heavy making out and touching in all the inappropriate places.  Okay, I’m being a prude, I realize.  There were dicks and vaginas and hands and lips all over the place.  Better?

I finally say, because I was as ready as I’ll ever be with someone I stupidly thought was my boyfriend without actually confirming that at any point in time, that I’m ready to “do it.”  Smooth, I know.  He’s so excited that jumps up and hit his head on the bunk again. In between laughing and seeing if he’s okay, I realize just how ready I am.  I’m on the pill and we’re going to use a condom.  I’m not worried about kids and I feel ready. He asks if I’m sure and I tell him to get the condom.  Even in my love stupor, I knew to be safe.  You never know right?  So he goes and gets one and we finally have sex. I remember it was slow and sweet and he kept asking me if I was okay and he was hurting me.  He wasn’t.  It was good. I don’t think I got off but we definitely tried it out more than once that night.  You wanna know the funniest part?  My friend and his roommate were on the top bunk the whole fucking time! Neither of us had any idea!  Neither one of them said anything when we came fumbling in, nor did they say anything once we started getting it on.  I think they were either embarrassed or passed out.  We also didn’t hear them…at all.  They didn’t laugh or even make a peep, which leads me to believe that they were passed out.  However, once we were done, the first time, Scott got up to clean up and finally noticed they were up there.  He started laughing hysterically.  Then they started laughing, which means they woke up at some point.  Then I started laughing, because what the fuck else was I gonna do?!  I wasn’t embarrassed but holy hell.  So nice to have an audience for my first time.  At least they didn’t see anything haha.  You’d think this would traumatize me.  Fortunately, it did not.

Instead of them leaving or us leaving, we all just went to sleep after that. Yes, we were weirdos apparently.  How does that compare to your first time?  Does anyone have a fairy tale first time?  Or is it all weirdness and such?  I’m assuming nothing is perfect and neither was this.  But it wasn’t horrible.  It didn’t hurt, I enjoyed it and him and even though it could have been really embarrassing to have people in the bunk above us, I can still laugh about it for some reason.  My friend, whom I’m still friends with by the way, can still laugh about it to this day.  If that makes me a weirdo then oh well.

So we all went back to sleep, and thankfully when we woke up, my friend and his roommate were gone.  I didn’t hear that happen either and I’m not a light sleeper.  I guess I was in some sort of sex coma.  We ended up picking up right where we left off, but this time we were alone.  It was and is always my favorite thing to wake up to.  If you don’t like morning sex, I feel bad for you.  I’m not a morning person by any means, but that is the best alarm clock there is.  I’ll wake up for that every time.  Once again, he was so sweet, at least in my sex haze he was.  I always felt like he was very attentive when we were sexual and always took care of me afterwards.  That morning were lazily laying tangled in each other after our sex-a-thon and chatting with each other.  We decided that food was necessary and got dressed to head over to the dining hall to fill up.  Again, I wasn’t kicked out or doing the walk of shame alone, but rather hand in hand with this seemingly perfect, sexy man (or boy, we were only 18).

But I’ve never been good at picking men.  Clearly nothing has changed.  We went to breakfast that morning.  I was fully satisfied and breaking any former rules of PDA and all that.  I mean we hung out all the time and had sex, so he was my boyfriend…right?

Meet Mr. Frat boy Part 1 of many :)

So I’ve been telling you my dating stories and you’ve seen the shit I’ve had to put up with in my adult life but I’m going to take it a little further back.  Back to college…where my affinity for stupid douche bags began.  This is all really therapeutic because it really does help me to see where I went wrong…and trust me, I went wrong…early.

Now I didn’t “date” much in high school.  I had boyfriends I guess but they were never anything serious and I never did more than kiss any of them.  I went to a fairly small high school in the dipshit small town my parents moved me to.  So everyone knew everyone and in turn, everyone’s business.  Dating back in those days was very incestual amongst your friend group.  From like 8th grade (and that couldn’t really be dating when you never went on dates) until senior year of high school, I had dated every one of my guy friends and they dated every one of my girl friends.  Yes, it was ridiculous.  There wasn’t much to choose from so you just dated what you knew.  You went to dances with the same dudes that were your friends’ dates from the year before and so on.  Surprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of fighting over it…at least not to your face.  In addition to that, one of my good friends got pregnant, married and divorced all in high school.  Yes, you read that correctly.  So while I had hormones and desires like any high schooler, I didn’t bother to act on any of them…I wasn’t about to ruin my life with a kid.  And yes, I still feel that way.  Don’t judge me…kids are expensive and dirty.

 

Anyway, I would have dates to dances or “boyfriends” that would last a couple of weeks and fade out but nothing that really stuck.  And I didn’t have the best role models for that type of serious dating, either.  Some of my friends always had boyfriends but I didn’t see those as healthy relationships.  Telling a girl she doesn’t love you unless she has sex with you is never healthy in my opinion.  Neither is getting married just because you have a kid.  Marriage is not the answer.  Birth control maybe would have been a better option, but her parents said it was against their religion…the same religion that is also against divorce…but that was okay I guess.  That’s neither here nor there since it’s over 20 years later.  What is here and there is that I learned a lot from these vicarious experiences.  I learned to not trust boys and to keep my legs closed.  Too bad I still don’t feel that way haha.  I’m so glad I wasn’t sexually active as a child.  And that’s what you are in high school…a child.  I was still a child in college, but technically an adult.

So I go off to college, not as naïve as I one might think, but still a novice when it comes to boys.  I went to a smaller private college in the Midwest.  I ended up going to the same college that my older brothers went to so I happened to know a few people.  I was tagged, “the little sister” though and many of the guys were threatened with death if they even looked at me.  That really didn’t help my game.  I should mention both of my brothers were in the same fraternity.  So even though I knew lots of guys…lots of good looking, older guys…they were sworn off of me.

Thanks bros!

It probably was a blessing in disguise, but of course I didn’t think that at the time.  In fact, had he done that at all the frats, it may have saved me some time and heart ache…but live and learn, ya know!  So I had a lot of “older brother” types to look out for me but nothing on the dating front.  That was totally fine because I was trying to get used to college life along with my volleyball schedule, since I played on the team there.  However, you know that there is always plenty of time for fun in college, so boys were bound to come up in the topic of conversation.  I couldn’t talk to my brother’s frat friends about boys…they were supposed to keep me away from that…assholes.  Luckily, I made a lot of friends who were bad influences on that front.  Man I miss college!  It was so easy to make friends and to meet people.  Why is it so fucking hard as an adult?  Many of my friends now are married or shacked up so they never have time to hang out and my single friends are few and far between and also kind of boring and/or douchey.  But it’s so hard to meet people in your 30s!  I mean I know it’s hard to meet a mate but even meeting just regular friends is hard.  UGH.

 

But back to the story at hand, the story of Scott, AKA Mr. Frat boy.  I met Mr. frat boy at a frat party.  What are the odds right?  We went to school on a dry campus, so technically we had a dry volleyball season too.  However, this didn’t stop anyone from drinking or having parties.  I really don’t understand the point of dry campuses.  When you tell people not to do something, they end up wanting to do it more.  So when you tell college age students that they can’t drink…they find sneaky ways to do it anyway and you’ve caused a bigger problem because now they are hiding their drinking.  Yes, drinking under age is one thing, but this was a long ass time ago and you can’t say you or someone you knew didn’t underage drink too.  Like I said, we got sneaky with it.  Though I have to admit, I’ve never had a fake ID.  I never saw the point.  I never went to the bars at the dry campus school because there was always a frat party to go to and there was a never ending supply of drinks…and if I went to my brother’s frat, I never had to pay for any of it either…plus I had a bunch of body guards who wouldn’t let anyone touch me so I was pretty safe haha.  Then when I transferred to a state school, you could get into bars at 19.  And again, girls could end up drinking without much trouble.  I’m not saying it’s a good thing.  I’m just telling you how it happened.  I don’t think it’s much different now unless you go to a school in a big city that doesn’t have on campus housing.  Or maybe not.  I don’t know.

So I’m out with some new friends on a Saturday night in the fall semester of my freshman year.  We decide to go to a fraternity house because well, that’s what we did.  Wasn’t a huge school and off campus parties were usually invite only.  The only prerequisite for frat parties was having a school ID to get in.  Easy enough.  Tonight’s party was Luau themed and happened to be at the Phi Gamma Delta house.  This was NOT the same frat as my brother’s were in, so I was on my own.  There was no one there giving dirty looks to any guys attempting to approach me, nobody slapping a hand away that came to slide around my shoulder, no cock blocking anyone who even tried to talk to me in any way other than friendly.  I was FREE!!!  I could dance like a maniac and talk to whomever I wanted!  Only problem is that I was still kind of shy.  Like I said, I didn’t really have that much experience with dudes.  I had plenty of experience drinking, so I wasn’t a light weight, moron who had one beer and would pass out like my roommate.  But I still wasn’t very smooth.  I’m still not.  I sent a guy a message on a dating app the other day that said, “How arrrrgghhh you doing?” all because he had a pirate costume on in his profile picture.  He sent me an LOL but deleted me shortly after.  I guess that wasn’t as funny as I thought?  Eh, fuck him.  I thought it was hilarious.

So we’re in the basement of this frat house with black lights and leis and copious amounts of beer and I happen to see this guy from campus drinking with his buddies.  He was absolutely my type: tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, athletic build, and obviously douchey.  Without actually talking…because why would we do that…we start dancing with each other.  And it was of course, sweating, grindy, dirty dancing.  There’s really no other way to describe it other than we looked like we were fucking each other on the dance floor.  Isn’t that how everyone danced back then at a mock rave?  It’s all I ever knew of dancing to techno music in a seedy basement party.  And boy were we having a blast!  Now I should tell you all that when I was in college I was a certified HOTTIE.  I’m not trying to be conceited because I didn’t even know it at the time.  I was very insecure.  But looking back, I know I was a hottie.  I pulled a lot of hot ass back in the day.  I was still this height obviously, standing at 5’10 but I was also about 120 lbs with a cute blonde haircut that was stacked short in the back and longer in the front.  I had on my favorite Z Cavarichi jeans and a bralette tank top and my fucking hip bones were sticking out.  I swear I probably thought I was fat back then too.  Though this bitch would eat whatever the fuck she wanted and would work out constantly.  If only that still worked now.

Thanks Metabolism.

So I’m feeling fly and dancing up on this total Barney (that’s 90s lingo right?).  My friend ended up dancing with his roommate and it was like kismet!  I mean, what are the odds that a group of friends would like each other?  Okay, it’s probably pretty common in college, shut up.  Like I said, the cheap shitty beer is flowing and the music is pumping and everyone is having a great time.  Eventually, Mr. frat and I do talk to each other and I learn that he’s on the tennis team at the school and knows some of my volleyball teammates.  He’s kinda got that All-American vibe going on.  You know, perfect smile, perfect physique, athlete, Greek life, yet down to earth.  At least at the time he seemed like the all American boy next door.  I’m sure this isn’t everyone idea of the “boy next door” but I grew up in a small town where you were either an athlete or a druggie.  So if he smoked a lot of weed too, he could have been my neighbor growing up.  We ended up going out on the deck for some air and talking about random shit.  Trust that I can’t remember what it was exactly that we talked about, but I do remember a lot of things that I wish I could forget.  But lucky for you, I didn’t forget and I’m sharing it now.

That night, I did some things that were COMPETELY out of character for me.  I was only 18 and very inexperienced with boys though I was very experienced with how shitty life can be.  I’ll get more into that later…maybe.  So the party was still raging on and it had to be close to 2am.  Both Scott and I were highly intoxicated and thought it was a good idea to go back to his room.  My friend was off with his roommate already so rather than look for her or walk home alone, I figure this was a great idea.  You know all those hormones that I held back in high school for fear of well everything?  Yeah, they did not hold back this time.  We didn’t have sex.  I was definitely still a virgin but we did bump uglies in different ways.  It was all consensual too, if anyone was worried about that.  It was pretty awesome if I must say so myself.  We ended up fooling around for what seemed like hours and by this time and he never tried to get me to have sex with him.  In my drunken state, I thought this was very gentlemanly.  I’m sure he was just too drunk to get it up at that point.  But at the time I thought he was being cool about me not wanting to have sex.  I said my hormones were racing but I definitely was as big of a whore as I am now.

 

So we fooled around and he asked if I wanted to just sleep there since it was so late. Who was I to say no?  Last thing I wanted to do that early in the morning was walk home.  So I crashed there in a weird position that some might have called, “spooning.”  I just found it weird that we had to touch the whole time haha.  Sadly, I’m still that way.  I don’t really like cuddling all that much.  Immediately after sex, sure…but when I’m trying to sleep, move your fucking arm and don’t expect me to get a stiff neck by trying to awkwardly lay my head on your chest all night.  That’s never comfortable. Ever. So that was my first experience with spooning.  Do you remember your first cuddle session? Ah, the innocence back then…even though we were naked and just fooled around before we knew each other’s last names.  Don’t ruin my young love high, okay?  Oh, and don’t worry, I didn’t forget about my friend.  She was passed out in the living room.  Since I had never done this before, I had NO idea what to do when I woke up.  Should I sneak out, should I wake him up and say goodbye, should we fool around again?  I didn’t have long to think about it because he woke up and kissed me good morning.  Was I dreaming?  From every movie I’ve ever seen or every story I’ve ever been told about college, I knew that guys took advantage of young girls and you would be doing the walk of shame alone after a night like this if not kicked out of their bed that night.  I was definitely in a whole new world.  He even offered to drive me home.  Where the fuck was I?  Was this a dream?  I mean, looking back, that shit never happens anymore.  I would gnaw through my arm before waking up a one night stand.  And I’m sure this was what this was.  He was a stupid frat boy after all.  They can’t be trusted.  But I let him drive me home.  He even walked me to the door and kissed me goodbye, saying that he’d call me later.  Apparently, I gave him my phone number.  Do you think it was possible that he was a good dude and would actually call me?  I mean, you have to remember, this was before texting, so you did actually have to call someone if you wanted to hang out.  You couldn’t send a lame fucking text like you do now that is so vague even the person sending it doesn’t know what the hell is going on.  But let’s not get me started on that.

In any case, I went back to my room, that I now had all to myself because my roommate dropped out after a couple of weeks.  Thankfully.  She was a horrible bitch.  So I ran back to my room giddy as fuck over a night of debauchery with a mere stranger and the hope that I would get to do that all over again…all the time.  Yeah, I was probably being delusional.  Or was I?

Let’s talk about…

Sorry for the delay here guys!  I thought this posted on Friday when it was supposed to.  Enjoy!

Let’s talk about: Exes

We all have them…unless of course you are a child or have lived under a rock. Neither of those cases would have you reading my blog so moving on!

It never fails that I will run into an ex when I am at my worst. Either I’m sick and snot is running down my face or I haven’t showered yet and decided to run out to the grocery store anyway. I’m usually wearing sweatpants when I see them too, though let’s be completely honest here, I’m in sweats or some form of exercise clothing 95% of the time whether I’m at home or not. I work in sports people, I only dress up for meetings and on game day. But anyway, I always look like shit when I run into an ex. I never look banging, all decked out like I did on dates or like I do when I actually try. No, I’m wearing faded yoga pants with dirt from my car on the pant leg and an oversized sweatshirt from 1997. And my hair is messed up and I have on zero make up and I most likely look like caffeine is needed ASAP. And I’ll run into said ex while they’re with their new fabulous fiancé. They didn’t want to date me seriously, but of course the next bitch turned it all around and now they’re buying a second house in the Hamptons and looking at Teslas.

Now if you’re just catching up on my sordid stories, you’ll know I’m not a money hungry bitch. So what they do after me shouldn’t matter and it definitely doesn’t matter that they are buying a house together and I still live in a rented apartment and my bumper just fell off of my 10 year old car. Karma? Maybe. But clearly we weren’t meant for each other and I have to remind myself of that when I see them out. Perhaps I should just be happy for them. And usually I am and get over it it pretty quickly. However, that doesn’t mean I wanna sit and grab coffee with them. Most times I dive into the nearest bush to avoid making eye contact. I don’t need to have that discussion of “how do you dos” and “what’s new?” I just wanna get the fuck out of there.

It’s always more awkward for me than the guy too. He’s all happy and shit and I still look like a crazy cat lady who ate too many peanut butter M&Ms. Correction, I hate cats but those M&Ms are the shit! I could eat a whole bag in one sitting and I’m talking party size. I have gotten close and immediately regretted that decision as I felt sick for 2 days. Apparently I need to control my chocolate cravings. But wouldn’t it figure when I’m at the CVS buying fucking deodorant and tampons…and M&Ms…that I’d see the guy who broke up with me because “I’d be prettier if I lost 20lbs.” And his dick would pleasure me if it wasn’t so small. Okay, I don’t know that, we only dated for a couple weeks and no we didn’t sleep together. I was too fat for him, remember? But why does the universe choose to have us run into each other when I’m bloated from my fucking period and buying said awesome chocolates while of course wearing oversized clothes because I feel like shit anyway? Why couldn’t he have seen me two days prior when I was rocking one of my “meeting” dresses and looking fierce as hell. Those are the times you wanna send a big “fuck you, I’m beautiful just way I am” message but really you’re feeling self conscious already and end up eating the whole bag of candy. #womenproblems

So instead of risking him seeing me or Gasp! talking to him! I throw the bag of M&Ms across the store to create a diversion and duck into the next aisle. I then creep through the damn CVS trying not to knock anything else off the shelves so as to not bring attention to myself but carefully clutching the tampons because I need those fuckers. Now I’m like stalking my prey in the toothpaste aisle trying to keep tabs on when he leaves the fucking store so I can go back and pick up my candy and check out. I finally notice he walked out the door with his buddy (who was equally douchey) and start to make my way to the check out when I’m stopped by a CVS employee who is asking if I’m okay and suspiciously eyeing me like I’m trying to steal the shit in my hands. To get out of the awkwardness, I make it more awkward by showing him the tampons and saying that I have cramps and just want to check out. He proceeds to help me carry my shit to the pharmacy check out because he, “thinks the pharmacist can help with that” and scurries away. I have to abandon my M&Ms and fain another cramp to play along with my made up story. Now the pharmacist (who is also male) is concerned by my “terrible cramps” and asks if I need any medication (yeah they’re laying in the floor over there!) but I politely decline and then hightail it out of there after paying only to run back into my ex in the gosh darn parking lot! So much for the effort to avoid him…and I didn’t even get my fucking candy.

Or what about the time I was out on the worst possible tinder date with a guy who looks like a hobbit and had the worst breath and manners you’ve ever seen and in walks your ex with mother fucking Giselle on his arm. You’re trying to hide yourself when your terrible date causes a commotion over his chicken fingers and your ex immediately spots you and gives you the look of utter pity then joyfully skips away with his new model girlfriend into the night. Because being on a bad date isn’t bad enough, let’s add insult to injury by running into someone that didn’t want you. Being single when you run into an ex is always the best.  Oh and people say I’m too picky…really? UGH.

Now don’t get me wrong, okay? I’ve played roles into why these things didn’t work out and not every one of my exes is a complete douche bag. I also would be happy for some of them and actually have been when seeing them in person with someone new or finding out that they are married. But for the most part, once we break up (no matter who did it) I’m done and could care less if I ever saw them again. We don’t remain friends unless we were friends in the first place but then again that friendship is never the same and that’s a story for a different day. I just swear that when I’m having a bad day or feeling down about being “alone”…it never fails that I get a quick reminder of my failed relationships and more reasons why I’m single, just to add insult to injury. Like recently, I was already bummed about a guy that I had been talking to and trying to distract myself with Facebook (bad idea) and who pops up on my Facebook “people you may know” section of my newsfeed on my phone? My ex from 3 years ago (don’t worry, our story will be shared ). He randomly text me probably 9-10 months ago asking if I wanted to hangout again to which I replied “it didn’t work out then, why would it work out now…at midnight?” Don’t worry, we didn’t get together. But now he’s popping up on my newsfeed and his profile picture is him and some chick hugging all over him. Hopefully they weren’t together when he was booty calling me. He too had a problem with my body. I’m not fat people, okay! I’m just not a size fucking 2 and apparently that’s the easiest way to break up with someone and have them not try to argue with you by telling them you aren’t attracted to their body. But that’s neither here nor there anymore because he’s with a skinnier version of me. Seriously…dead ringer for my twin. I’m not sure which is more sad, the fact that he’s dating someone who looks exactly like me or that if I was skinner he’d still want me? Both are pretty fucked up. And people wonder why females have issues with body image and such. Luckily I’m not one of those women. That and I’ll never be a size two eating M&Ms like a boss haha. *Now before anyone comments on the reasons I’m not a size two and how unhealthy it is to eat that much candy, just know that it’s not a regular occurrence and I am fully aware that a healthy diet is important so lay off. I’m not looking for a nutrition lesson or more superficial reasons why I’m single. This bitch has an ass and it looks good in yoga pants 😉

Anyway, I guess my point is that I have back luck with running into exes. They pop up when I least expect or want them to and I’m never prepared. Perhaps I should always leave the house dressed to the nines just in case? Hahahahahahah fuck that. Some days, especially those that end in Y, you just gotta rock the yoga pants. And again, I am in a gym half my life, why do I need to wear dress pants…yuck. Lol.

In a city of millions I guess it’s inevitable to run into an ex while he’s happy coupled up, because that makes so much sense…

Meet My Funny Valentine-Part 3

Or so I thought!  I hadn’t heard from Greg all week.  Then on Friday night, around maybe 5:30pm, I get a call from him asking if I have anything going on that night.  I actually didn’t. I’m a hibernator during the winter.  If I don’t make advanced plans, I am perfectly fine with staying in, wrapped in a blanket, watching a movie or reading a book.  I spend the summer months out and about and never sleeping, so I make up for it during the winter.  So no, I didn’t have plans that night that didn’t involve my couch.  I proceeded to tell Greg that.  He said those were his plans too.  He was apparently coming back from the burbs and just wanted to order pizza and watch a movie.  He also wanted to know if I wanted to come over.  What now?  Um, you want to what now?

I again was confused by this funny valentine.  He was pulling the 3rd date, date plan out on me.  Dinner and a movie…at his house.  I start thinking back to my dating life back in the 90s and early 2000s again…sorry millennials who will never know what it’s like to get hit on at the supermarket or at a bar before 2am and have someone call you to ask you out on a date.  Not everything was all over the fucking internet.  People didn’t have to swipe right or left.  Well they did, but it was called “Hot or Not” and to my knowledge it wasn’t used for random hookups.  That’s what the bar was for after last call.  But anyway, his set-up was reminding me of dating back in the day.  I imagine that this was also what dating was like in the late 60s and 70s minus all the free love.  I wasn’t old enough then to be dating but I have older siblings who I would laugh at as they were getting ready for dates back then.  But that’s neither here nor there at this point.  Outside of him calling me that night, and yes he did call me, I hadn’t talked to him all week.  Our Valentine’s Day date ended rather strangely, so I had just written him off.  Like I said, I wasn’t really feeling it anyway.  But I was bored and figured, “why not watch a movie with him?”  Maybe he’ll make a move and we’ll see how the whole chemistry thing will go.  Maybe there’ll be some.  Maybe not. But like I said, I wasn’t doing anything else anyway.  What could go wrong?

 

So I agreed to head over but on one condition…neither of us could dress nice.  We both had to be relaxed and wear sweats.  Greg immediately agreed, with a laugh, and said that was the best plan ever.  He still wasn’t used to the winter and wanted nothing more than to be comfy tonight.  Perfect!  So I basically made sure that I smelled good (I showered that day don’t worry) and my hair is combed from earlier and change my shirt but I’m definitely wearing yoga pants and a comfy ass sweatshirt.  I have leg warmers on for crissakes, fuzzy socks too and don’t have on a lick of make-up.  This is the making of another terrible date I’m sure.  Haha.  I still think I looked comfy yet cute, think snow bunny though, so fuck all.  I don’t think we have to be full on make-up’d out with put together outfits, not a hair out of place and all that to go on a date.  But then again, I know that’s how it goes.  If you don’t look put together, then you’ve “let yourself go”.  Listen here dudes…when I’m comfortable, I am much more open and fun.  I can be comfortable in other things, but it doesn’t mean I let myself go because I’m not all decked out.  My shirt is clean and my hair is brushed. But whatever, we both agreed to be comfy.

Before I head over, I stop to pick up a bottle of wine as I wanted to contribute to this date and then grab a cab over to his apartment.  He lives on the other side of the city so it took about 20 minutes with traffic.   That’s a long time in city time.  I think that’s why people tend to stay in their own neighborhoods unless they are going to another one with people from their own neighborhood…but that’s a discussion for another day.  I get to his house and the cab drives off and I call Greg to tell him I’m there and no answer.  Okay…he lives in a midrise and didn’t tell me the apartment number, just the address and of course none of the buzzers have names on them so I try him again and…nothing.  Um…am I getting stood up after coming all the way out here?  Yes, 20 minutes is all the way out here.  Plus, remember it’s February so it’s fucking cold.  My cute yoga pants aren’t exactly warm.  So I send a text that I’m here and cold, please come get me.

First fail of the night.

Luckily about a minute later, Greg comes walking towards the door.  Phew…not stood up but I was standing outside for 10 minutes, which is a long ass time when it’s cold and you aren’t sure if you’re even in the right place.  I felt really dumb standing out there. But he finally comes out and apologizes and says something about not hearing his phone.  He is at least sticking to the plan by wearing sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt.  I can find a hot man, deliciously yummy in a pair of sweatpants.  Not the kind that the kid with the boner would always wear in 6th grade, but that low hanging, nice pair pair of sweat pants and an 8 pack with the V that leads to the promise land.  Y-U-M.  You guys have to agree with me here, don’t you?  Especially when you know they aren’t wearing underwear underneath and they are just asking to be touched.  If I knew how to put pictures on this thing, I would show you what I mean.  So yeah, Mr. Valentine, didn’t look like that.  Haha, ooops.  But hey, at least he stuck to the plan and was nice and comfy and I don’t feel underdressed!  He gives me a hug and walks me back to his place.  He had a cute place.  Very minimally decorated, with sporting goods and a couch in the living room.  It was a small one bedroom, so we did a quick tour and opened the wine up.  He had asked me earlier what kind of pizza I liked and I said, mostly anything, just nothing weird so he had ordered a pizza before I got there.  We popped down on opposite ends of the couch and started rifling through Netflix.  Now since it was winter, and I watch a lot of movies during winter, everything he hadn’t seen, I had.  Needless to say, we struggled to find something that neither one of us had seen.  We finally settled on the Interview.  Yes, we chose the Interview to watch on our date.  I guess you’d call it a date.  The 3rd date.  We are still on opposite ends of the couch, sipping our wine, half watching, half commenting on it, half talking.  Yes, 3 halves make a whole 😉

In that time, the pizza had arrived.  He ordered an Italian sausage and potato, barbeque pizza.  What in the fuck kind of pizza is that?!  I know I said I was pretty good with anything…anything that wasn’t weird.  And this shit was WEIRD, with a capital W.  I love pizza and we have really great pizza here.  Some of the best in my opinion and I’ve had pizza all over the world.  So I was thinking we’d do a deep dish with sausage, green peppers and onions or something.  Not barbeque potatoes with sliced Italian sausage.  However, I’m all about trying new things so I gave it a go. Greg admitted it was an interesting combination, but he too wanted to try something different.  And different it was.  Or gross.  Gross is a better way to describe it.  Again, I like pizza.  I like potatoes. And I like Italian sausage.  I even like BBQ sauce.  But put it all together and it is not good.  I don’t know why. So I forced myself to eat at least one piece. He bought a damn extra large pizza like he was expecting this to be good or maybe expecting that we would be eating cold pizza tomorrow…I’m not entirely sure.  So I knew I had to finish my one piece because I felt bad about how much was left.  Greg only ate two and agreed that he ordered too much and that it was not very good.

Second fail of the night.

So we left the pizza and continued to watch the movie.  We didn’t sit any closer to each other and it felt like I was at a friend’s house watching a movie.  Like I’ve said, we got a long well enough.  I’m used to having guy friends, so this is nothing new.  Maybe it was because we were in our sweats?  No, that’s not it.  Haha, our clothing had nothing to do with it.  The movie was also strange.  And not exactly something you watch on a 3rd date, but then again, usually you don’t end up watching the whole movie right?  You’re supposed to “watch” the movie but actually make out.   I wasn’t in a rush to make out with Greg, but I was still curious if he was any good.  I suppose that was a good sign.  Or not.  We’ll have to wait and see.  The Interview ends and the wine is almost gone.  It was still pretty early but getting closer to the violet hour of 11pm.  I’m assuming this impromptu date is about to end when surprisingly, Greg asks if I want to watch another movie.  Um sure, let’s pick another one.  So the arduous process of picking a movie begins again.  We are randomly searching through when Wedding Crashers come on the queue.  Greg has not seen this gem of a movie.  Now I swear that he was raised under rock.  He’s eating potato pizza and as a dude has never seen Wedding Crashers.

Fail number 3!  Okay, so that’s not that big of a deal. But it’s a funny ass movie.  Stupid humor funny, but funny.

At this point, we’ve put our empty wine glasses away and Greg has gotten comfy on the chaise part of his couch and asks if I want to scoot over and join him.  Okay, Greggy, smooth move.  It only took you a whole bottle of wine and an entire movie to make a move.  But I oblige and moved over.  However, his couch is uncomfortable as hell and awkwardly sized so I’m sitting in the crack of the couch trying to fit on the chaise part and it’s not working.  So I try to get comfortable until we end up both moving and laying down on the other part of the couch, kind of like spooning.  Now we’ve gone from 0-30 because this was a big move considering we’ve only really hugged at this point.  But I figured this was coming.  It was the 3rd date at this house.  Yes I keep saying this.  Am I the only one that knows what the 3rd date is all about?  Okay, maybe I am…but I assumed there would be touching of some sort.  I wasn’t expecting or planning on sleeping with the kid, as I wasn’t really feeling it still but maybe a cuddle or make out session would be fine.  We probably watched about half of the movie before Greg made any other moves.  What was his next move you ask?  Rubbing my butt.  Yep, he was the big spoon, laying behind me and had his arm flung over me for the first half of the movie but then decided to rub my booty. Okay.  I couldn’t help but tease him.  Maybe make your way towards a boob touch, but a random butt rub was a first.

I give him a little tease and then he starts to tickle me instead.  I’m starting to think his MO on a 3rd date is that of a 3rd grader.  Touching my butt then tickling me.  But whatever, we ended up kissing.  And it was…drum roll please…average.  Not filled with sparks but not awful.  I know this is not a great review and it doesn’t get much better.  We make out a little  more and some articles of clothing find their way onto the floor and the butt rub seems a bit less weird.  I’m really trying to get into it.  It’s been a long sexless winter already so I had some pent up horndog in me.  We end up making our way into his room now and not really because we were so hot and heavy we wanted to rip the rest of our clothes off and fuck right then and there but because his couch really sucked and there wasn’t much room to maneuver so it was uncomfortable.   So we make our way into his room and continue to make out.  More clothes are lost and ol boy decides to go down south.  And I’m gonna let him because, well I’m apparently a selfish bitch like that.  Let me tell you guys, that was average too.  I don’t want to be a complete asshole because not everybody likes to go down on other people, but just like our conversations and last 2 dates, it was all average.  I’m not really sure what I thought would happen.  I guess I was stupidly hoping that we’d miraculously have this amazing chemistry and awesomesauce sex and live happily ever after.  I’m clearly delusional.

So now, I just want to leave.  It’s getting late and that was a sloppy vagina kiss that I was just not feeling.  Thankfully, Greg helped me with this by having a small penis that he couldn’t keep erect.  So I didn’t have to come up with any excuses to leave before having sex with him so that there thankfully wouldn’t be any average sex.  He kept saying it’s because he was tired, drank too much wine or the thought of condoms made him soft.  Yes, that’s a first.  The thought of condoms, made him soft.  I’ve heard guys try to use the excuse that they don’t like to wear condoms because they can’t stay hard, or they hurt, or they lose sensation or whatever bullshit excuse they use to have unprotected sex.  I’m not judging per say, but I’d prefer to not have kids with a random person so I’d appreciate it if you’d wrap that shit up.  So I was off the hook because Greg couldn’t keep it up.  And then my girl mind kicked in.  His excuse for not being able to keep it up was fucking lame.  Was it me?  Holy shit, he wasn’t attracted to me and couldn’t keep a fucking hard on!  I was in fact, having a mental meltdown…but only in my head, of course.  I did not let on, that this is what I thought.  Instead, I suggested maybe that we should finish the movie.  He actually agreed and then went to “clean up” in the bathroom.  Clean up what I’m not sure.  Did I miss something?  Did he prematurely ejaculate and that’s why he couldn’t keep it up?  And where the fuck was I when this was happening.  Wow, I need to stop drinking.

Nevertheless, I put my shit back on and started to get all my stuff together.  A short while later, Greg came out of the bathroom, dressed and laid back on the couch.  At this point, I decided to get going, but Greg said it was late and I could stay if I wanted.  I contemplated it for some fucked up reason.  It was a bit after midnight and I was tired but why would I stay there?  I was sitting there contemplating this for a whole of 5 minutes when I heard snoring.  Yes, snoring!  He had passed out.  In a matter of minutes.  I guess that’s why he always ended the dates by 11pm.  By midnight his ass was passed out.  Better to do it at home on his couch then at a bar I suppose.

Final Fail.

So I quietly grabbed my things, popped my shoes on and left.  I nicely locked his front door before leaving at least.  I called an Uber and made my way back to my side of town.  Unsatisfied and tired.  I think I may have had more fun staying at my own place, eating good pizza, alone.  Hell, I’m sure my vibrator would have been better put to use that night.

I, unsurprisingly, never heard from Greg again and I, also unsurprisingly, didn’t reach out either.  I think I need to go with my gut more often and not continue to go on dates with dudes that I’m not interested in just because they are nice and we have things in common along with not getting naked with them because it’s unnecessary.  Now that I’m writing this, I wonder what ever happened to my Funny Valentine?  Hopefully he can stay UP past midnight…if you know what I mean.

I mean keep an erection.

Obviously.

 

Meet My Funny Valentine-Part 2

 

If you haven’t had a chance to read My Funny Valentine Pt 1, please check that out a few posts back!  It’ll help the post below make more sense. 

 

On my last date with Greg, we had a pretty common first date…for 1995, with a text instead of a phone call on my dorm room rotary phone.  It of course consisted of dinner, drinks and a hug goodbye with a follow up text to say he had a good time.  That date was on a Friday night.  Greg and I hadn’t text the next day but started to text around Wednesday of that week about wanting to set up another date.  We both had plans for the upcoming Friday and I had a tourney on that Sunday so the only free day we both had, was Saturday…which just so happened to be Valentine’s day.  I figured that he wouldn’t want to go on a second date on Valentine’s day and frankly, neither did I.  Not on a second date with someone I didn’t really know.

I’ll let you in on a little secret.  I’ve never actually had a bonafide Valentine’s Day date.  I’ve dated guys during that month but never anything truly serious to warrant all the hearts and flowers and candy and dinner date crap that comes with the holiday.  Totally weird for someone my age I suppose to not have ever dated anyone long enough, or I guess seriously enough, to have a valentine.  So this would be why I was hesitant to go out on Valentine’s Day.  I didn’t want to be around all the hearts and flowers and lovey dovey shit with someone that I barely knew who I couldn’t be or maybe shouldn’t be forced to think about being all lovey dovey with.  I just kept picturing it to be completely awkward with a capital A.

So being the upfront person I tend to be, or try to be nowadays, I brought this up.  I asked Greg if he realized that Saturday was in fact Valentine’s Day to which he replied that he knew.  And then I asked if he thought that would be awkward at all to go on a second date on this holiday that’s all about love, to which he replied no.  Um, okay.  So I said if he didn’t find it strange and didn’t feel any pressure on such a holiday to do anything he wouldn’t be comfortable with, that I would be fine with going out too.  I told him to pick the place though and remember that places might be busy. Maybe that came off as bossy, but I picked the place last time and we had already talked about him picking the next time we went out…so get off me, okay?

So he picked a sports bar, a rather large sports bar, near his neck of the woods.  Well that’s not romantic at all, so well played Greg, well played.  I decided to go with a rugged, badass look and wear all black so as not to be confused with the hearts and flowers of the day. This was a second date, not a romantic evening after all right?  I mean he did pick a sports bar and would no doubt be wearing jeans and a tshirt…which he was by the way.  Plus this whole date on this particular day was super weird in my opinion still.  Whatever, I wanted to see if I could feel the warm and fuzzies with him or if we would just be better off as friends.  So I wore a pair of black skinny jeans, a black top with leather sleeves, thigh high black leather boots, a leather bracelet with metal chains on it, silver hoop earrings and a leather jacket which was not nearly warm enough for February.  I did my hair in big curls and left it down and did a dark smoky eye with a red lip.  I told you I was going for badass.  I think I achieved the look.  I had to add a black hat and black gloves because it was fucking cold.  But I thought I looked awesome.  So now that my look was complete, I had just enough time to grab a cab or uber and head up to the bar…the sports bar that was sure to be filled with hearts and balloons even though it was a sports bar, I just knew it.

So I’m in the cab and Greg tells me that he’s already there and sitting in the back.  Well I get there and I don’t see him anywhere because the place is huge.  What I do immediately see though is a sea of men.  Single men.  Out alone on Valentine’s Day.  And I’m on a random 2nd date…dammit.  So I finally see Greg and make my way over and I’m suddenly nervous.  I’m not entirely sure why.  I felt like I looked good, which for women, I think that’s half the battle to have confidence in your appearance…so stupid I know…but I looked good and I felt good when I walked in and then I got a bit nervous.  Nevertheless, Greg stands up and gives me a hug and we sit down.  Greg already has a drink that is about halfway gone and I begin to feel bad.  How late was I?   He did say 7, and I got there by 7:02 thanks to the cab so I’m not sure why I felt bad.  Anywho, we  start to make small talk and the waitress comes over and I feel like she’s staring at us with hearts in her eyes and kind of baby talking us.  She called us ‘So cute-squeal’ before she went back to get our drinks.  Um, what the hell was that?  Did she just squeal? Was this going to happen all night?  Should I play into?  No, no that’s creepy…but now I’m really re-thinking this whole Valentine’s thing. Maybe I should have said no…

But I order a drink and we order food and then start talking a bit more.  I don’t bring up how I feel weird about this date because I find that to be rude and we all know that I don’t know how to tell it like it is on a date but will afterwards.  It’s always easier to tell someone to leave me alone after the fact, when they can’t cut me in person.  While I generally think that all people are inherently good, I’m not naive enough to think that there are’t more unstable people in the world than not, and I don’t really want to ‘poke the bear’ so to say.   So our conversation is going fairly well.  We get along fine and the conversation never hits an awkward lull or weird silences.  Our food finally came and we both were eating and chatting and whatnot.  Yeah, there was nothing too exciting to report here until we started to share food.  He didn’t like his food and I didn’t like mine so we ended up trying each other’s food.  He ended up finishing my plate and then we shared the strawberries that came with his meal.  Of course strawberries came with the meal on fucking VDay.  I like strawberries, don’t get me wrong…but I also find them to be somewhat of an aphrodisiac especially when someone wants to feed them to you…which is exactly what this mother fucker tried to do. Considering we had barely hugged goodbye on the last day, being sexual like this was confusing.  My first Valentine’s Day date is going well haha.

So the bar starts to fill up with more and more dudes and less couples and we finish our food and drinks and decided to head somewhere else.  I’ll add that this place was filled with red and pink and flowers and candles on the tables and balloons like they were going to have some sort of Valentine’s Day special but the only people there besides us were dudes watching sports and trying to be all manly.  So we make our way outside and start walking to go to a place across the street.  I must mention that it’s cold as hell and the sidewalks are just plain icy.  So being the gentleman that he was, Greg offered me his arm and we made the long trek across the street.  We both almost fell about half a dozen times but finally make it inside.  Now this bar was the complete opposite of romantic again.  No flowers or pink or anything, in fact they were doing an Anti-Valentine’s Day all you can drink special.  We decided against that but still grabbed a booth and watched all the youngins getting crazy.  Greg was only 28 and I’d say everyone else there was probably in their late 20s too.  Anyway, we finally catch a waitress and order a drink and are hanging out in our booth just chatting away and enjoying the early 90s jams that were being played.  The only problem with this place was that it was way too loud and people were out of control.  It made it hard to have a conversation and we were basically yelling at each other just to be heard.  We spent a lot of that part of the date in silence, since yelling wasn’t working.  I’d say it was only about 9:30 at this point and people were already drunk.  I guess celebrating your singledom will do that to you.  I remember all the VDays of the past where I was doing the same damn thing.  It of course was not obnoxious when I was doing it.

So we finished our one drink and decided to head somewhere else.  We were officially on our own bar crawl.  Luckily there’s always several bars or restaurants in the vicinity in a big city so we didn’t have to walk far to get to the next place.  Now this place was a pizza place but it was super cute.  Everything was very rustic, with what looked like custom made wooden tables and booths, with the legs of the tables being tree trunks.  There was a full wall of tiny mirrors in crazy patterns and low hanging lights glowing over each table.  There was a very large fireplace off to the side that was letting off a nice heat that was much needed and appreciated.  The whole place just had a nice red glow.  I’ll admit it was quite romantic. Had this been a different date with more romance, I’d say this would be the perfect atmosphere.  Now there was nothing particularly wrong with Greg.  Like I said, our conversation flowed well.  We had a lot in common and got along.  I just wasn’t feeling much chemistry.  I don’t know if it was just that we didn’t have it or if he was very conservative about it regardless of his weird strawberry feeding earlier.  I guess I just don’t know how to explain it. But as the night went on, we had I think 2 more drinks here and he sat a little closer and would place a hand on my arm and vice versa.  It was far from making out, but he was making more of a move then he previously had.  I was thinking things would maybe progress just more slowly with him and decided to just take it as it comes.  I had been so accustomed to people going from 0-60 on the first date or even before the first date during texting of their dicks and all that I had lost all semblance of what dating used to be like.  I’m trying to think back and think this is what it was like…maybe?

 

So we finish up our next drink and the waitress comes back over to ask if we want another one and like clockwork (it was 11pm after all), Greg says we should call it a night and asks for the check.  So now I’m confused.  We went from 0-4 maybe and then he halted again.  I was like what a weird fucking night.  All Anti-Valentine’s Day and part romantic, part not romantic and then the abrupt, I think it’s time to go.  So I’m like are you wanting to go somewhere else?  Or are you tired or something?  And he’s like well I have a long day tomorrow so we should probably call it a night.  Ok.  I too had a long day the next day, but we had I think four drinks total and it was only 11pm…on  a Saturday and you didn’t work all day, are you really tired?  But again, I guess nothing good ever happens after midnight, except for more drinking and the horizontal polka…and we obviously weren’t there yet.

So we get our coats on and head out there door.  Since this is a fairly busy area, there are plenty of cabs out and Greg hails me one.  He opens the door for me and says have a good night and I’m thinking, okay dude, kiss me so I can see if there’s any chemistry.  But what does he do, give s me a lame ass hug and backs away as he hails the cab behind it for himself.  OKAY?? I tell him to have a good night too,  get in and ride off.  He’s like so luke warm half the time it’s hard to tell what the hell he’s thinking.  And what a weird way to end my first Valentine’s Day date!  It was less than stellar and less than romantic and like I was on a bro date or something. I think he even high fived me at the Anti-Vday bar.  So there’s that.  I rode home in silence, just plain confused.  All I really wanted to do at this point was forget what day it was, put my damn Pjs back on and eat some fucking ice cream like I normally do on this stupid holiday haha.  I mean, that’s how I spent most of the rest of my Valentine’s Days if I wasn’t out drinking heavily!  Haha sons of bitches.  So I’m mid Ben and Jerry’s when my phone goes off with none other than a text from Greg.  Yep, like clockwork, Cinderella was texting to say he had a good night before he went to bed on a Saturday by midnight.  I again, said I did too and thanked him for dinner and drinks.  I’ll give him some credit.  He wouldn’t let me pay for anything again, even when I offered to at least buy a round.  Nonetheless, he didn’t respond to my thank you text and I went back to my sweet nectar of American Dream ice cream and Netflix.

I feel like Greg could have been a fun date but he was too reserved and didn’t know how to take all my leather.  I can in fact be intimidating. In fact, I have been told this on more than one occasion.  But I want a man not a boy.  If my hot ass outfit and my outspoken sailor language intimidates you then you’re a dipshit.  So I decided to not over think it.  It was an okay night.  I’ve definitely had worse and at least I finally had a date on Valentine’s Day and I figure most people end their Valentine’s Day with ice cream…and another person, but still with ice cream.  Since I didn’t have the overwhelming urge to jump his bones, I didn’t really mind that I didn’t hear from him all week.

Another one bites the dust!

Guess who’s back?

Back again….dyfunction is back…tell a friend…

Guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back?  Ok, sorry…that was my Eminem attempt to get you all excited that I’m back haha

Anyway, I’m finally back guys!  I know it’s been forever and I hope that you guys will come back and read again.  Life has gotten crazy busy and it was hard to write but I’ve had a chance to write at least finish My Funny Valentine posts and I’m going to try to start posting again on DysFUNctional Fridays…starting tonight!  There has been several new dates, maybe even a love interest…and the reemergence of Big D.

Enjoy!

Hiatus

Hello all my lovely readers!

I’m so sorry I’ve been MIA lately! The season started a couple weeks ago and I’ve been swamped with work and practices and my own workouts and that little thing called sleep that I don’t get much of. Excuses, I know but I was up front in that I would write when I could. I definitely want to keep writing and sharing but I know it won’t be for a while. I’m going to say that it won’t be until Septmeber that things will calm down enough for me to write more and post. I won’t give an actual date because I’ll feel bad if I can’t meet that deadline.  I have enjoyed writing and I will keep sharing but I have to focus on my team right now…plus that job pays my bills 😉

I hope you’ll stick with me and come back to read my crazy adventures again. I have a lot of stories I haven’t shared yet. I haven’t had time for any dates recently but maybe that’ll pick up soon too however even that isn’t a priority right now. Check back in a couple weeks or follow the blog and the newest post will pop up when it’s complete. Enjoy the rest of your summer!

TS

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