Tag: dating sucks

And then the goldfish returned…

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I was just starting my Sunday Funday when I got a text from him. “You’re the worst,” is all it said. Of course I assumed he was expressing his disdain for me. How was I supposed to know he was stating the name of a television show?! In case you forgot or didn’t read my previous posts about this guy, we had a couple weeks this summer of intense dating before he dumped me after I fell asleep drunk on my toilet. I was planning on dumping him because he got on my nerves so badly but he beat me to it. So disappointing. He was surprised that I even responded to the seemingly rude text he sent me but then asked if I wanted to grab a drink with him sometime. Of course I said no and we continued exchanging messages for over two hours. He was mostly apologetic and tried to remind me of our “crazy chemistry” while I was a typical bitch, reminding him of how he dumped me and giving him all the reasons I hate him. It ended there.

Until I got bored about 4 days later…

I was watching Girlfriend’s Guide to Divorce on Netflix and doing a coding course online. My brain started to hurt so I took a Facebook and text break. I basically told him, “Drinks. tomorrow. 7:30. J9 Wine Bar. Be there.” I left out the, “Or else” but I think it was clear that it was implied. Why was I doing this when I was going to dump him anyway earlier in the summer? I ask myself why I do most things on a daily basis. I rarely have answers to this question. This time I think I was just bored. I’m like a little kid who kicks a hornet nest even though she knows it’s potentially dangerous. She just wants some excitement and to see what would happen.

I was actually really looking forward to seeing him again and I was dying for a good Manhattan. This place had them. I was expecting our usual incessant teasing of one another and then I assumed he’d start to really get on my nerves and my eyeballs would start hurting from rolling them back in my head so often and I’d cuss him out again before taking a Lyft home.

I was wrong. He was calm and not nearly as irritating as usual. The bartender came over and said it was so good to see me again and asked if I wanted my usual Manhattan up. I saw the shock and confusion on his face and admitted that I’ve taken three other dates to this place after he introduced it to me early in the summer and befriended the owner and bartender. He also had taken dates there after he dumped me but he’s not nearly as fun and personable as I am so the staff doesn’t recognize him. We exchanged stories of our dates at J9 and then headed to a dive across the street to play Pop-a-Shot. Admittedly, I am fucking awful at sports. I was a dancer and a cheerleader. Sports that involve balls are not my thing. I averaged about 10 baskets per round in this game and was wildly impressed with myself. He was pretty good but then some guys came over and wanted to play too. They might as well have been professional basketball players. They never missed.

We both decided we had embarrassed ourselves enough so we went to the back bar to watch the band. He was unusually affectionate, gently touching my hair and my neck. I enjoyed it for a second and then I got freaked the fuck out. It was bed time anyway so we left. Before going to sleep though we texted and sort of made plans to hang out again the next week just for a movie and shitty pizza at my place.

I had no idea what I was doing. My initial plan was to see him for a couple drinks, we’d fight and I’d toss a drink in his face like they do in old movies and we’d never see each other again after I stormed out angrily and he stood there, dripping in whisky and in shock. Nothing ever goes as planned in my life though. I change my path abruptly just to shock myself I think. Always looking for the next adventure. I know ahead of time that I’m just going to leave him anyway but I might as well have some fun stories in the meantime.

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.

 

Reel big fish

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Sometimes you’re in the dating sea, practically choking on the available fish to date and sometimes you’re in the dating desert, searching for an oasis. When you’re swimming in dates and have a few guys constantly contacting you, who all seem to be interesting and attractive, you’re on top of the world. Very suddenly though, those things can all change. That’s when the knights in shining armor turn into the losers in aluminum foil and you actively avoid them at all costs. It happens suddenly with no reason.

This is when you take a step back and reevaluate your life choices. Or maybe just your dating choices. I find that I’m constantly drawn to similar types of men. My sister says I like “bad boys”. I don’t see them as bad. I see them as exciting, interesting, eccentric, or mysterious. Then when I get to know them better, I see them as assholes, losers, scumbags and douchebags.

How the hell do you break the cycle though? I recently met a guy who is the polar opposite of anyone I ever date but he is exactly what I want in a guy. Definitely the knight in shining armour in a world of trolls. He’s kind and friendly, open-minded, liberal, a feminist, a good cook, well-educated, good looking, attentive, generous, thoughtful and already has a child so there’s no pressure on me to get knocked up, get fat and go through the hell of child birth. What’s the problem then? It’s all too soon after leaving my ex husband, first of all. I don’t want the perfect guy right now. I want to date everyone who is wrong for me and do everything that is bad for me. This guy is life-partner material. I have to go through several more months of self-destruction and regressing to my early 20’s before I’m ready for him. Why did I have to meet him now??

Secondly, he’s too nice and it’s too easy. He already worships the ground I walk on. There is no challenge at all. He thinks I’m beautiful and smart and the strongest woman he’s ever met. All of this is true, by the way. I swear he’s not blind and he absolutely is entirely sane. I don’t know how he got these ideas in his head. I swear I didn’t plant them. He’s my biggest cheerleader through the drama of my divorce. He asks me questions about what’s going on all the time which most people actively avoid. No one wants to hear about it because it makes them uncomfortable. Not too many guys can hear you say that your soon-to-be ex-husband strangled you until you passed out and broke another woman’s legs and then still carry on a conversation about the situation. Typically I find people say how sorry they are to hear that and abruptly change the topic of conversation. I haven’t scared him off with the horror stories or with the idea that my ex-husband might be lurking in the bushes while we hang out, ready to attack and murder both of us. Go ahead and laugh, but that’s a very likely scenario.

Why do I have such a hard time letting this nice guy in though? My only guess, besides it being too soon, is that there is no challenge. I don’t need someone to worship me. I need someone to challenge me and introduce me to new things and experiences. I don’t need someone to rely on me to be the guide and make all of the decisions. There needs to be a balance and a sharing of those responsibilities. Although having someone adore you is great, having someone who adores you and can still call you out on your shit and ask you questions that make you think a little more deeply, introduce you to new things and challenge you, would be more desirable to me.

My sister is going to want to kick my ass over this and she might tell me I’m stupid for not going for this guy 110%. That’s fine. She might be right. We’ll see one of these days. For now, I’ll keep him at arm’s length while I swim around in the dating sea. One fish, two fish, perfect fish, douchefish.

 

 

 

Not a gentleman

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The title of this post could apply to the vast majority of the guys on the planet I think but I’m referencing one douche in particular. Also, if I get yelled at by one more of you fuckers for not having a new post up by Monday night like I normally do, I might slap you. I went to a wedding for two good friends of mine Sunday that had the hashtag ‘Malortrimony’. I was told I was falling asleep at Gman afterward and had to be escorted home by my friend. Classy. So I literally could not EVEN on Monday. Death by Malort. I’m back now! Better than ever, so here ya go, you animals!

I matched with Brian in early May, after I got ghosted by Tristan the Christian. In just a few hours I decided Brian was the neediest guy ever. We messaged a lot while I was at my friend’s unicorn-themed birthday party/housewarming. He told me he’s looking for a girl who will text him all the time and commit to seeing him at least once a week. Calm your tits, bro. We haven’t even met yet and most people I know can’t handle seeing me even once a month. At least once a week sounds excessive. He was sending pictures nonstop and requesting that I do the same, which I happily did.

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I didn’t find him particularly attractive now though. All of his pictures on the dating app were older which is a common trend in online dating. The pictures he was sending now were in the moment, in bright sunlight and he looked far older than in his profile pictures. He also was sending me pictures from a funeral in Iowa which was disturbing. I’ve never seen someone look so happy at a funeral. Yuck.

We met not long after matching on Coffee Meets Bagel at Murphy’s for a couple drinks. It was ok but I wasn’t that into him. He was pretty mediocre in every way possible but I was at a point in my life where I thought I should give the basic guys more of a chance. He didn’t seem like he’d be an abusive psycho or cross-dressing sex-addict, which I was used to with most exes. When we left, he put himself in a cab and let me walk home alone at 11pm, despite the fact that I lived on the way to his place. Thanks a lot, winner. Quite the thoughtful guy. I didn’t have plans to see him again ever but he was texting me daily and sometimes I get bored so I usually responded.

One night I was not getting nearly enough dating app attention and I had a rough week. I legitimately wanted to watch a movie and cuddle with someone. I couldn’t remember the last time I cuddled with someone. It had honestly been years. He lived close so I figured I’d give it a shot and see what he said. He was just getting off the train, coming home from work. He said he could be at my place in a couple minutes. I couldn’t believe that actually worked. Surely this guy thinks that something else will be happening. He’d be so disappointed when I rejected his advances. I didn’t care.

We didn’t make it more than 15 minutes into the show I turned on before we were both asleep. We woke up a few hours later and I expected him to leave. Shockingly, he moved to the bedroom with me. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “Here’s where he tries to make a move and I have to send him on his way.” We passed out within seconds. In the morning, he kissed me on the cheek and hugged me goodbye so we could both get ready for work. What planet am I on?! What year is it!? What’s happening!? I met a good guy? Maybe this guy didn’t suck so much. I couldn’t believe the ‘come over and cuddle’ thing worked.

Shortly after this, he had to go away for a couple weeks for some military stuff. It was while he was away for this that things changed and he started sending me sexual messages. They weren’t too weird or perverted at first but it didn’t take long for that to escalate. He got upset after I told him I had gone on dates with other guys since I met him. The next thing I know, this “gentleman” was requesting pictures of nipples and vaginas. I laughed it off and changed the subject every time but he became more and more persistent and angry. He started asking me very personal questions that made me uncomfortable and then obsessively talked about threesomes. He repeatedly brought up the fact that I had gone on dates with people besides him so he knew I was a whore and that’s how he was going to treat me now.

Since when do people become exclusive after meeting one another two times!? What’s wrong with meeting other people when you’re single? This guy clearly has a few screws loose and I had to distance myself ASAP. I’ve had too many guys become obsessive and angry and disrespectful in my lifetime. I can finally see the patterns now and see the red flags right away. It only took, what feels like, a thousand fucking years. I have no more time to deal with assholes who want to degrade or control women because of their own anger issues or insecurities. I have no more patience to be kind and give someone the benefit of the doubt or any more than one chance. No forgives and forgets and no regrets. I wished him luck scoring some chicks for his threesome and started swiping around for my next cuddle buddy.

The Painfully Boring guy

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At this point I can’t count the number of dates I’ve been on this year. It got to the point where I stopped calling them dates all together. This was business. These were meetings. I kept my two drink maximum rule and managed at one point to meet 7 guys in 4 days. You think I’d be burned out. This had become a second full-time job. I wasn’t burned out yet though. I loved meeting all these weirdos. Some were cute, fun or nice but there was nothing there between us. They’d make good friends but they weren’t boyfriend-material. One of these guys was Cary.

As soon as I walked in and saw him I knew this was the first and last time we’d meet. Cary was a tricky little bastard. All of his pictures were from when he still had hair. He now carefully places the few bits of fuzz he has left in a way that, from a distance, makes it look like he still has thick and luxurious locks. Up close though it just looks like a tiny, thin black veil floating about an inch and a half above his scalp. It’s hairsprayed to hell and that shit ain’t movin’. As a hairdresser, I could fix this mess. I could help him out here. I don’t want to though. I don’t want to have to fix or change things about someone. Been there, done that. Never again.

Cary and I ordered a beer and got this meeting started. I’m asking all the questions to get the weirdness out of Cary and I’m getting nothing. All he does is smile and nod at everything I say and basically repeats my answers to questions that I ask him. He’s eager to please and say all the right things but I don’t think he’s ever had one original thought or idea in his life. One of my hobbies is painting so all of a sudden Cary LOOOOVES painting. When was the last time Cary painted? When he was in elementary school. I enjoy running and doing yoga and lifting weights. I can tell by looking at Cary he’s never worked out a day in is life but I ask anyway. Cary LOOOOVES working out too but claims he just doesn’t have the time lately.  I have two dogs and wish I could have 48 more. Cary LOOOOVES dogs too. I asked Cary if he had any pets. He does not and never has.

I also could not stand sitting there listening to him go through the entire beer list with the server to figure out what he wanted to drink. The entire time he mispronounced every fucking one of them and in the end he just told her to pick one for him. He’s like a little spineless jellyfish. He’s the kind of guy who would probably make a great husband one day if you want to constantly boss someone around who will do anything you say with a smile on their face. He’d be like a slave and a puppy and husband in one.

I could feel my eyes getting heavy as he was literally boring me to sleep. I’ve never sucked down two Daisy Cutters that fast in my life.  We walked out together, waited for our Lyft or Uber drivers, hugged and left. The next day I got a message from him on the app. He wants to “take our relationship to the next level”. I obviously did not want that. After that night I learned how much I appreciated people with opinions and hobbies and backbones. Poor Cary. I’d tear him apart. There’s no way he could handle someone like me. I could see him with a girl who thoroughly enjoys tea and practices needlepoint on a Saturday night or has a collection of stamps. She will dress like a librarian in the 80’s and not wear makeup. She will wear orthopedic shoes because she thinks they’re cute, not because she actually needs them. She’ll be obsessed with cats and have a cat-themed apartment. She’ll even have cat salt and pepper shakers. Their idea of a good time will be having a staring contest for hours. They’ll hold hands but they won’t have sex because neither of them ever have done it and they’re both too timid to initiate it. Holy shit! Sorry…I can just envision her perfectly. Basically what he needs is NOT me.

How do I kindly tell Cary that our relationship will stay on this level and not progress any further? I could ignore him and ghost him like most people do but I have respect for other people and would never do something that cruel. I could describe to him (in detail) who I think his perfect match is but I’m not sure he’d be receptive to me offering to help find her for him. I opted to just tell him I’m not interested. I thought about how to say it for a couple hours and then I responded. I told him I had fun the night before (ok, I lied a little) and although I think he’d be a good friend, I wasn’t interested in dating him. Then I held my breath and waited to see what would happen next. Was he going to have an epic meltdown on me? Was he going to cuss me out and tell me what a bitch I am? Nope. Cary actually thanked me. Despite the fact that he said he was disappointed, he wanted to thank me for actually responding to him to tell him how I felt. We wished each other luck finding someone relationship-worthy and unmatched. That was not nearly as painful as I expected and it was far more enjoyable than our entire date the night before! I really hope Cary finds someone to boss him around soon.

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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The Underemployed One

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It’s Sunday morning and I’m doing the 30-something’s Walk-of-Shame from my Saturday night guy’s place, which is Ubering home, hung over, while texting my friends about the previous night. That’s when I get a Bumble message from a guy asking if I was interested in getting some brunch. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. The answer is always YES to brunch. We agree to meet at a brunch place my friend manages, as I’ve repeatedly promised to come check her new spot out and fail every time. I raced home to take care of the dogs and get cleaned up. When I’m almost there he texts to let me know there is an hour wait so he’s at the restaurant next door having a drink. It’s 11am. He’s drinking. We’re off to a good start.

I get there with my perfectly polished ponytail, giant sunglasses and pale yellow sundress that my friend Nikki just gave me, attempting my best (somewhat hung over, ‘I hope I don’t still smell like sex’) Audrey Hepburn look. I recognize him immediately from checking out his photos, even though it was clear his photos were quite old and he was a bit heftier than he was when they were taken. We hug and I order champagne; my drink for summer 2017. Hey, I’m celebrating being alive this summer! We get down to chatting and I notice he’s wearing very expensive, trendy, yet classic clothing but his eyes were glazed over and bloodshot. His shirt was unbuttoned a bit too far and his hair was wild. I asked how his night was and he told me he went to Cuvee, an upscale nightclub, the night before with friends. Despite having delayed responses to any of my questions, he responded and asked questions as well so I wasn’t leading the entire conversation. Something still seemed off about him but I guessed it was just his hang over.

On his profile he said he was a beverage director at a nice hotel. I asked him how he liked that job and he tells me he was fired from that place a year ago. Why the fuck does it still say it on your profile then, guy!? So I asked what he does now and why he was fired. He goes on to say he was fired for being “kind of an asshole and a drug addict”. LOVELY! He said he talked down to his staff and he didn’t realize other people didn’t use cocaine the same way he did. He basically did it all day and all night, in front of his coworkers and bosses, and was shocked that it was an issue when they brought it up to him and dismissed him from his role in the company. Now he claims to be underemployed, as he works as a bartender two nights a week at two different bars. This cocaine habit now explains his delayed responses and blood-shot eyes. This dude is still awake from partying last night!

Cocaine

I knew I wasn’t attracted to him but we were here already and I was hungry. After almost an hour, I asked if he wanted to check on our table status next door at my friend’s brunch restaurant. He then tells me he never put our names in so we had just been sitting around the whole time waiting for nothing. This guy needs an adult. I run over, climb over 30 hungry people who are sitting around, waiting for their names to be called. I pull the dick move of name-dropping at the host stand and hug my friend Sarah after the hostesses get her attention. She was running around like a mad woman but told me there are seats that will be available at the bar. I run over to tell the underemployed guy to drag him over before he orders another cocktail.

When I came back and told him, he then lets me know that he has no cards and no cash so if I could cover everything today, he could Venmo me or get me next time. I’m getting fucking PLAYED right now!! This broke-ass scammer got me! I ask why he wanted to invite me to brunch if he has no money but he assures me he has some in the bank, he just left his debit card at the nightclub last night. You’re a 30-something year old man who only has one card to his name and you leave it somewhere and invite a girl out?? What’s WRONG with you? Where did you go wrong in life? Shit, where did I go wrong in life if these are the guys I’m meeting!? I pay and we go next door, order food and a drink and continue on this “date”. I talked to my friend and the bartender now more than I talked to this guy. He picked at a salad and slowly sipped a bloody Mary while I crushed some eggs and veggies and two champagne cocktails.

We decide it’s time to go since I hate him and he has to actually go to one of his jobs soon. My friend kindly discounts half of our bill, I pay again and then decide to run to the restroom before we walk out. Before I go, he tells me to close my eyes and hold out my hand. I fear something bad will happen but I look around and realize we are elbow to elbow with people and there are hundreds of people there. What’s the worst he could do? I did as he asked and when I opened my eyes I saw a big bag of white powder in my palm. I gasped and clenched my fist, shoving the bag back in his hand. “What?”, he said, “Do a couple bumps in the bathroom.” Then he winked. Barf. It is 12:30pm on a Sunday, sir! And we are dining at a fine, family restaurant, where my friend is the manager! What’s wrong with you?

We leave and, unfortunately, have to walk the same direction to get to our destinations. While we walk, he repeatedly pulls this bag out to do bumps off of his key. Once he did it in front of a church. Once he did it in front of a playground, as a mother pushing a double-wide stroller walked by. We’re a block away from his job when he ducks into an alley and asks me to wait a minute. I glance over after a few seconds to catch him pissing behind a dumpster, cocaine in-hand. He zips up and we continue this romantic stroll to his job, where he leans toward me, open-mouthed, tongue-first. I put both arms between us, on his chest and push away. “K, this was fun! Talk to you later!”, I blurted out. I’m a fucking liar. Once again he tells me, “I’ll Venmo you!” and I briskly walked on. No look of longing as I left. No eye contact at all actually. I stared at the ground and moved my legs as fast as a girl can in wedge sandals. I’ll never forget you, Venmo guy.

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