Tag: bumble dates

The ice cream man

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After weeks of not getting enough attention from my “boyfriends” and nearly two months of having no sex, I decided it was time to swipe. Swiping used to be something I did as often as I breathed when I was newly single. After a while though, my swiping happened about as often as I mopped my floors, which was rarely.

I matched with a guy that night and we talked until after 4am. Both of us were shocked by this because we never chatted so much with people on dating apps and definitely never had so much fun doing it that we didn’t want to stop to sleep. He was also divorced, loved dogs, baseball, art and painting. He was in real estate and owned some investment properties and said he and his friends basically tried to work as little as possible all summer. (#lifegoals) Although, while my other hobbies include blogging, running and doing yoga, he was more into racing motorcycles, volunteering at PAWS and boating in his free time. And then I fell in love… (But seriously, what the hell is the deal with all these guys on Tinder and Bumble who have boats and why do I match with all of them? I must smell like Lake Michigan and they’re instantly attracted. Maybe…?) Everything about him seemed perfect until he called himself the Hugh Hefner of real estate and said he was surrounded by beautiful buildings instead of beautiful women. I gave him a pass on this lame ass comment because of the regular volunteering at PAWS.

A week went by and we chatted regularly, most often until close to 5am. One night around 3am, we both wanted tacos and ice cream. He lived nearby and told me to meet him at 7-11. He honestly asked me to walk 15 minutes to 7-11…at 3am…for some fuckin’ Ben & Jerry’s. Although the Pistachio Pistachio was screaming my name for all of Lakeview to hear, I opted to stay in my bed. This is when he tells me he already hopped in his Range Rover to drive (1/2 a block) to the convenience store to get ice cream. Instead of picking me up to get some or buying some for me and dropping it off, he took pictures of the icy pints of cookie dough and pistachio and sent them to me and told me he’d save my ice cream at his place for whenever I come over. Well isn’t that some bullshit??

A few days later after making plans to go check out the Navy Pier fireworks with one of my “boyfriends”, the plans fell through so I texted the ice cream man to see what he was up to. He invited me to meet him and some friends at Diversey Yacht Club. I walked over there after work and drank tequila cocktails and ate M&M’s with him and his friends. All they did was talk shit to each other and laugh so hard their faces and stomachs hurt. Naturally, I fit right in and loved them. I still swear his best friend and I were separated at birth. She’s brutally honest and blunt and incredibly foul-mouthed. He had the best laugh though. The kind of laugh that you know is genuine. It starts with a smile that stretches wider than you’d think was possible and makes you close your eyes so tightly. It’s accompanied by a loud sound that can only come from deep in your belly and the laugh ends with a long sigh while you wipe away tears and lean forward, clutching your stomach. He had that kind of laugh. All night.

Finally someone suggested a late-night boat cruise. The water and weather were perfect for the first 20 minutes. On our way back, the winds changed and buckets of water were being poured on us while we slid and bounced around the back of the boat. When we came back to the dock, he disappeared for a long time and his friends asked me if I wanted to do a little bump. Who am I to turn down free coke? It would have been rude of me. I graciously accepted, put my soaking hair into a bun and put on someone’s dry hoodie and we all wiped the seats and tables down with towels so we could sit and hang out again. When he came back, he and I snuggled up under a blanket and all of us had another drink and talked on the back of the boat for a couple more hours. He and I were both yawning and then had a mini tickle fight to wake up a bit. Everyone else had enough blow in their systems to party all night, I’m sure.

I had to work in the morning and he offered to drive me home. I said goodbye to people I expected would be my life-long best friends forever. We all hugged and said we were looking forward to hanging out again soon and the ice cream man walked with me to his Range Rover, he opened the door for me and I hopped in. He took me to my place, hugged me goodbye and waited until I got inside. After I showered the dirty lake water off of my body and out of my hair, I texted him to say thanks for everything and of course, sarcastically tell him how boring he was. He responded with, “lol I’m fucking awesome and you know it. tonight was definitely a blast.”

What could have been a boring Wednesday night in, ended up being an unexpected, fun-filled adventure with great people and a guy that I could really like. Nights like that are what summers are all about. Spontaneity, fun, laughs. The next day I had a cancellation at work and still wanted that fucking ice cream. Since I knew he rarely worked and he also lived down the street from my salon, I texted to see if he wanted to check out the new gelato spot on Southport. No response. I assumed he must be busy actually working or he was on the boat. Either way he normally replied right away but I didn’t worry about it. I went to the French bakery with my friend and got myself a macaroon instead. Later that night I texted him while I was (actually) Netflixing and chillin’. Hours later, still no response.

I could have just let it go like that but I didn’t want to. How hard is it to just say you aren’t interested in someone? How hard is it to just reply to a fucking text? Not hard at all. I let him know those things and told him ignoring someone is rude (Why do I have to tell so many people this??) and I would have appreciated a little communication since we’re grown adults. I thanked him again for everything and wished him luck in the shitty world of dating and thanked him also for reminding me that I should give up on it. If guys were ice cream, Baskin Robbins doesn’t even have enough flavors for me. I think I’ve gone through all 31 and every last one sucks. I’d rather die a born-again virgin before I swipe again and meet another guy.

 

Bobcat Returns

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If you told me I’d see this guy again after he kicked me out of his hotel room, I’d tell you you’re out of your mind. For some reason we continued texting each other for the next month almost every single day. I finally agreed to hang out with him again with the promise that he wouldn’t do anything stupid to fuck it up. We decided to meet for dinner the next Friday. He made reservations for 10pm. I work Saturday mornings and told him it wouldn’t work. He fucked it up. We tried again later and met up at a rooftop before heading to a street festival. I warned the hostesses when I walked in that I might storm out in a few minutes if he did something to piss me off. Luckily, that didn’t happen. We actually had a lot of fun.

After a drink or two, he asked me about my blog, which he had done before via text and I thought it was odd. I asked why he was so interested in my blog and he laughed for a second and then told me that he reads it. He then explained to me that when I posted something on Snapchat about it, he charged a separate phone so he could replay the snap, take a picture of it, look up the blog online, start a new email account and become a follower. That’s some next level sneaky, stalker ass shit and I thought it was awesome. I like this creep. If he read all the shit I posted about him and still wants to talk to me and hang out, there is probably something wrong with him but I don’t even care. There are lots of things wrong with him but that’s what makes him interesting. He also has an idea for a YouTube channel so I can be like Jenna Marbles or Nicole Arbour. He has a great plan for a TV show called Ghost Busters where I crash dates of people who have ghosted other people and call them out on it. Brilliant. Weird but brilliant. His pitch to me went like this:

When you get ghosted, who you gonna call? Erin and her crackpot team of degenerates have women who get ghosted contact you. You (and me, if you want my PI help), track down the guy, preferably when he’s on a date with the next girl he swiped right with, and we confront him and ask why he ghosted her!

We still have some kinks to work out but I’m into it.

We left the rooftop and I reassured the hostesses that he didn’t totally suck before we hopped in a cab to head to the fest. We drank some beers and took an Adderall while listening to music. He dared me to get a picture with some eccentric older gentleman. Since I can’t say no to a dare, I started dancing with this guy and asked if we could take a picture together. He tells me he’s Jimmy Buffett and I almost believed him. It turns out, his name is Rick and he has a large collection of hats that are all from Miami. Interesting. The Bobcat and I hung out near him while listening to 16 Candles for a while.

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When the festival was over, we headed over to Concrete Cowboy for another drink. It was there that The Bobcat told me he had molly. The last time I did molly, I was in college. This was my summer of ‘YES’ though so I was down. I’ve said yes to everything since I left my ex, besides offers from friends to break his legs or have him killed. Always say no to violence and say ‘hell motherfucking yeah’ to everything else.

We headed downstairs to Spybar and took over a table in the back corner that was occupied by a very intoxicated man named Tony who could barely sit up. He ended up sleeping in the corner while we hung out. After becoming friends with the bartenders, we did a couple shots. This is where my memories are all a blur. I don’t know how much time went by. I don’t know what I said or who I was talking to. At one point I was calling Bobcat and my friend who owns the club while they were standing right in front of me. I knew when I was talking I wasn’t making any sense and that just made me laugh. Finally we decided to get out of there. Probably for the best since by the end of the night, I had the bartenders hating me.

In our Uber back to his place, the driver offered us beers which he was charging $5 for. Of course we bought them. When we got back, we apparently made out in his kitchen. I also apparently answered my phone at 5:30am and talked to my friend for a few minutes while she stood in the alley behind my house requesting that I bring her alley wine. I explained to her that I was at a gentleman caller’s house and was unable to deliver. Finally I got into his bed and immediately, when I fell into it, became one with it and started to pass out. Despite his attempt to be romantic with wine and cocaine, I pushed him away and passed out.

I woke up hours later, spread out like a starfish in his bed and was so confused. I went into his living room and found him and his dogs hanging out on the couch. I went with my typical M.O. and bolted right away. I felt like death and needed a shower. Throughout the day he helped me piece our night together because his memory of the night was far less foggy than mine.

I still talk to him everyday whether it’s geeky shit about trading cryptocurrency or talking about our pending divorces. For some reason I tell this guy more than I tell my closest friends. Maybe it’s because he seems more interested in the random garbage I have to say than my friends do. I texted him WHILE getting my IUD put in. He’s completely honest which is refreshing and tells the truth brutally with no sugar-coating. Not a lot of people are like that but I am that way too so it’s refreshing. Have I forgiven him for kicking me out of the hotel room that night? Yeah, but I’m not forgetting about it. That shit was awful and hilarious and I’ll bring it up every chance I get it.

People oftentimes come into your life for a reason. You don’t know what the reason is right away but you learn eventually. Why do I willingly spend time with someone who admits to cheating on his soon-to-be ex-wife repeatedly? Why does he hang out with me still, knowing that my soon-to-be ex-husband is dangerous and puts every woman he’s met in the hospital? My sister would tell me it’s because I can’t stay away from risky situations. Maybe she’s right. Life without risks seems really boring though. We’ve all got baggage and we have demons to battle. I have no idea why the Bobcat is still around but we’ll all find out eventually. The reason better not be to teach me lessons about going to random men’s hotel rooms after just meeting them.

 

 

G.I. Joe aka Tristan the Christian

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After my painful first date with the elf who smelled like an onion and a wet dog, I’m surprised I ever kept swiping right and accepting date offers. As always though, I picked myself back up and moved on in search of more punishment for whatever horrible thing I must have done in a past life. I made plans to meet a guy that Friday who looked like my kind of douchebag. He was the kind of guy who definitely wore Affliction brand clothing when that shit was popular. He liked going to clubs and dancing and I could tell from his pictures he was ripped like a Greek god. This year that’s all I was looking for anyway; fun guys with hot bods. I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone.

Our plans to meet and get ice cream, naturally turned into us just meeting at a bar for drinks. Fine with me. He made me laugh a ton but I remember thinking he looked like he had been hit in the face a LOT and he was holding on to about 5 hairs on the top of his head when he needed to give up and just shave that shit. He wore too much cologne which normally I’d find unattractive but after the smelly guy, I didn’t mind this.

The date was going ridiculously well so I had to do something to ruin it. I said to him, “Ok, so far this is the complete opposite of my first Bumble date. There’s got to be something wrong with you. Are you a murderer? A Jesus freak? A Trump supporter?” I could tell by the silence and look on his face that I said something wrong. It turns out he’s ALL of those things. It was then that I noticed all the religious tattoos and the cross on his necklace. Then he goes on to tell me how great of a president Trump is going to be. Lastly, he says he’s in the Special Ops in the military so killing people is not something he’s opposed to. Fucking wonderful. We could not be more different as I’m as liberal, atheist, feminist and anti-violence as they come.

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‘Merica

We both said we had plans with friends later that night so we had two drinks each and hugged goodbye to get into our Ubers. I saw him checking out my butt when I walked away so I was sure there would be a second date despite our huge differences. Like I said, I wasn’t looking to fall in love with anyone this summer. I just wanted to have fun.

We went on to talk to each other everyday over the next month. Sometimes we’d be on the phone for four hours, other times we were texting all night long and sending each other pictures and videos. The only days we didn’t talk were when he had to leave town for an operation. I met his friends and he met some of mine. We hung at least once or twice a week over the next 5 weeks. I stopped swiping and meeting guys during this time. I was so into him. It was freaking me out since the last thing I wanted was a serious boyfriend, especially one whose second favorite president behind Trump is George W. Bush. I liked this guy though and also did not how I was supposed to act and what I should expect in dating.

During my weeks with Tristan the Christian, we never had sex. We had two nights of half naked making out but no D in the V. I assumed he wanted our first time together to be really special and beautiful. I envisioned candles lit all over the room and rose petals leading to the bed. He’d pick me up and passionately but gently kiss me before lying me down in his bed next to a giant bible and a few of his guns. Ew, just kidding. I just assumed he had some erectile issues and I really just didn’t want to ask him about it. Apparently all this time he  had been dropping (very) subtle hints about his penis size and one night he spelled it all out for me via text. G.I. Joe had a foot-long penis and didn’t want to scare me off with it right away. This I had to see to believe so, obviously, I requested dick pics. Sure as shit, that thing went down to his knee and curved a bit to the right. I was excited. I was scared. I was curious. I also had to show all of my friends these pics immediately.

I’m not sure if this was a good thing or not but I never got to experience this weapon of mass destruction. Shortly after this picture exchange, things seemed normal between us. For the next few days we talked and made plans to make plans for the weekend. Then I didn’t hear from him for five days. I tried to not be a psycho and assume he hated my guts or died. I told myself he had an operation to go on so could not message me. Saturday night I was out causing trouble and dancing like a maniac in River North with my coworkers. The girls were ready to go to another bar or club so I messaged G.I. Joe with the twelve incher to see where he and his friends were, assuming they were out drinking and dancing at Mercer if he was back from the operation that I made up in my head. “Mercer?” was the last text I ever sent him. He never replied.

I got fucking ghosted. How!? Things were going so well! There was no indication that anything was wrong. It all seemed great! So far I was definitely not a fan of online dating. Everyone I had met was awful in their own ways and I was shocked by things on a regular basis. How is it possible for people to have no respect for others or decency at all? Not responding to a text is beyond rude. Leading someone on for over a month and then never speaking to them again is just a total dick move. Online dating allows people to have so many options that we stop seeing people as human beings. Relationships are shallow and short-lived. Everyone is disposable because you can just match with a new person whenever you want. I wish the respect for others didn’t die when online dating gained momentum and popularity. How do people not have the balls to send a text or maybe sit down and talk to someone to tell them how they feel? As much as I dreaded it, I was back to swiping my life away in no time. On to the next one! It wasn’t until after all this happened, I realized who he looked like. He was like Sloth from The Goonies with a hot body. That just added insult to injury…

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Why not meet a guy the old-fashioned way?

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I’ve been asked multiple times why I’m on dating apps instead of just waiting around to meet a guy the “old-fashioned way”. First of all, what’s that? What exactly is the old-fashioned way? How old-fashioned are we talking? You want my parents to arrange my marriage to a strapping young lad who lives in our village and has plenty of cows and chickens? Should I let that jock from my chemistry class take me to a sock hop and then out to the diner for milkshakes? Old-fashioned for my generation is meeting a guy at a bar and drinking our faces off together all night, possibly exchanging numbers, making out or going to someone’s house to do the deed. I used to be REALLY good at meeting guys that old-fashioned way but things have changed and that doesn’t happen anymore.

Walk into most bars now and everyone is staring at a screen, whether it’s a game they’re watching on the televisions or Facebook that they’re scrolling through on their phone. Hey, maybe they’re swiping around and matching with hot babes on Tinder! Technology consumes us all and meeting men in bars is just not something that happens often because no one looks up.

The few times I recently made eye contact with a man in a bar it has gone one of two ways. He either stares at me off and on throughout the night and never makes a move or it’s the kind of guy that I accidentally locked eyes with briefly and am not attracted to whatsoever. THAT guy always approaches! That guy is also pushy and gross and doesn’t get subtle or obvious hints. He usually is also the guy who will still insist you can be friends after you lie and tell him you have a boyfriend.

So why the off and on eye contact and no moves? Some people say that maybe the girl should make the move instead. While I used to agree, after dating for the past few months I feel like it’s the girl who puts forth all the effort now. I’m sick of it! I want to see that a guy has some balls and isn’t scared to approach me and initiate conversation. I feel like men have developed this strong fear of rejection in face to face interaction but can’t wait to send you a picture of their semi flaccid penis over a dating app! (Side note here: Does that ever work for you guys?? Girls, how often do you get pumped over a stranger sending his wiener to you?! Can this stop being a thing that guys do? For the love of dogs and wine, please??)

Now for everyone insisting I’m “pretty enough” that I don’t “need” to be on these apps and should meet someone the old-fashioned way, first explain to me what that means to you. Second, go out there and try to meet a potential love interest face to face. I know I’ve never met a guy at Whole Foods or the gym! And lastly, try and take everyone’s phones away at a bar so they’re forced to interact with other humans and tell me how well that works for you. I’ve tried it and I was immediately not well-liked. To everyone else who is trying to figure out this modern dating world, good luck! Keep swiping even if it leads nowhere 99%  of the time!