Tag: online dating

You can make a living in midget wrestling

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I started talking with a guy who seemed ambitious and fun. His job description on his profile said “entrepreneur” which could mean he’s successful in his business endeavors, he’s a jobless loser, or he’s just a drug dealer. This guy, among having other sources of income, runs a midget wrestling company. I’m not lying. I don’t know why my curiosity and love for the strange possess me to meet people like this. I can’t explain the attraction. I wanted to meet this freak show of a guy.

We met on a Sunday afternoon at George Street Pub. He had been to brunch with friends hours before and got a little buzzed from drinking morning beers. I figured the buzz would have worn off by the time we met up. I was wrong. He was wasted. I didn’t realize this right away though. I’m not the quickest or best judge of people and their behaviors. I usually give people the benefit of the doubt, unfortunately. He bragged nonstop about how successful he was. He bragged about people thinking he’s from Europe because he dresses so well. He did not dress so well and his half British accent was so forced and fake, I was distracted by that and barely heard him bragging about his awesomeness and all the people he knows who are “REAL big deals”. I was also distracted by his big, brown, dead tooth.

Throughout our encounter he was getting more and more uncomfortable and drunk and angry. Apparently I have a “don’t give a fuck” attitude and my casual confidence was mistaken as aggressive cockiness. I’ve found, yet another, insecure little man who is intimidated by an independent and assertive woman. At one point he became so upset with something I said that he put his hands inches from my face and said, “Shut the fuck up when I’m talking to you.” Since he joked so much when we chatted on the phone and online, I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or being serious. I sat there shocked and confused when a man sitting next to us stepped in and told him, “If you talk like that to her one more time, I’m going to have some things to say to you that you really won’t like.” My date had a look of shock and disgust on his face over this comment. “Was that weird, or what,” he asked me. At this point I think everything is “weird, or what” so I just nod and sip my beer.

The man next to us left and the entrepreneur’s alcohol was really kicking in. He decided now was a good time to make a crude joke and aggressively grab me and squeeze me until he left bruises on my arms when I didn’t laugh. It hurt and I yelled at him to chill out which made him laugh and say, “Cunt bitches like you need to be taught lessons. I want to bend you over my knee to teach you.” At this point I’m planning my escape. Many of my friends have asked why I didn’t get up and storm out immediately. I’ve had far too many experiences with aggressive and violent men. I’ve gotten to the point, sadly, where I know how to play the game so I can safely get away instead of letting an already heated situation get worse.

I let him ramble on and on about how great he is for a bit longer. I asked questions about his dating past and he went on to tell me about two past restraining orders he had against him from “dumb whores.” I tell him I had to go take my dogs for a walk before it got dark so he went to pay our tab while I went to the restroom. When I came back he was signing the check. He told me more about how I should worship him and I said it was time for me to leave. He leaned over the bar and screamed at the bartender that he wanted to pay the tab. I tried to interject and let him know he had already done that when he shoved me away and informed me that HE was the man and was going to pay for us. The bartender then reminded him that we were all paid up. I said goodbye and walked out.

When I was about 15 feet from the door I noticed he was right behind me, insisting that he was going to get me a car and pay for me to go home. I saw a cab turn the corner near us and insisted it was for me and I was going to just take that home. The last thing I wanted was for this guy to know where I lived. I already have one restraining order on someone and didn’t want the hassle of going to get another one. The domestic violence courthouse is not a fun place and lately it’s begun to feel like it’s my second home. He leaned in to drunkenly suck my face off I’m assuming and I firmly pushed him away. It was then that I learned that “it’s unattractive when a little bitch doesn’t want to kiss back.” He also let me know that he wasn’t “feeling this” all night and we would likely never meet again. Through my obvious sadness, I said goodbye and went home. I saw him duck back into the bar, presumably to pay our tab again.

Within two minutes he started texting me and calling me. I ignored the calls and most of the texts but this went on for hours. The first message said, “You left??” He followed up with, “Where are you?? I’ll meet you.” After that I got, “Fuck thanks. We need to jhang our. lol, I can’t your. Those. Type. Hahaha. Yes or no?” These messages were all after repeated phone calls that I ignored. I finally replied and said that I was home and not leaving again. Rather than give up, he said, “Come over. To my house. I’m going there now. No worries. You should come over. Lol Call me. Call me. It’s only 8. You’re a fucking dick. What the fuck. So lame. Good hanging out.” The next string of texts and phone calls came later when he said, “It’s only 9. Legs go out. Let’s. Lol. Ugh you’re such a dick. I won’t call you again.” I responded this time with, “Good!”

He lied though. He called several more times and sent texts until 11pm. Finally I thought he was done for good. Twelve hours later I got a message from him saying that he was having a rough day and not getting much work done but thankfully he could force his peasants (employees) to do the work for him. I can’t say I was at all surprised by any of that. I know you’re all shocked, but I did not respond to that last text either. Finally the entrepreneur got the subtle hints I dropped and the messages and calls stopped.

Why do some guys get so angry and intimidated by girls? Why can’t they handle rejection? Why do they lash out if you don’t act the way they want you to or you voice your opinion? Why is there a need to control a girl or try to be dominant? Where does this anger or violence or possessiveness come from? Why are we “bitches” or “cunts” for not falling in line with what men want us to do?

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month and since so many “men” have abused me personally one way or another, whether it was sexually, physically, or verbally, I think this is a good time to share some places to get help if you’re ever put in abusive situations. With the “me too” hashtag popping up all over social media lately, I know I’m not the only one who has experienced abuse in dating and relationships. It seems it’s more likely that women have dealt with abuse than not.

After my soon-to-be ex-husband beat me and tried to kill me, I speak up more now and have never felt such a strong need to be transparent and open about everything from my experiences to my feelings on any topic. Call it a “don’t give a fuck attitude” if you want but we’re not here for long and you never know how quickly situations could escalate or who could hear your messages and stories and make changes to remove themselves from violence.

If you need help in Illinois:

Information, Options, Counseling, Legal and Shelter Services

Toll-Free. 24-hour. Confidential. Multilingual.

Phone: 1.877.863.6338

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

1(800) 779-7233

Flushing the goldfish

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Of course it wasn’t going to last!! No one is surprised here. Once an asshole, always an asshole! Come on! After the goldfish made his return, we hung out three more times that same week. That Sunday we woke up at my place and popped open my last bottle of champagne from my wedding. We walked my dogs and then got brunch on a patio. I apologized to the woman and her daughter next to us because my dogs were begging for their food. Luckily, they were dog lovers and didn’t mind at all. He and I playfully argued and teased each other and finally the woman next to us said, “You two are just the cutest couple.” Right away I informed her that we were absolutely not a couple because he dumped me months ago so this was his probationary period. Definitely NOT a couple. He’s an asshole. She and her daughter thought this was hilarious and all through brunch they were eavesdropping on our conversations and laughing when we roasted each other. I let him pay and reminded him that he needs to redeem himself for his behavior earlier this year. The woman patted my hand and told us that she sees us living a long and happy life together. GROSS! Ick! Yuck! No! Again they laughed at my reaction and wished us good luck after petting and saying goodbye to the dogs.

The rest of the week went well. I didn’t see him but we talked everyday. Thursday came around and we were talking about You’re the Worst again because I was finishing up the last few episodes of the latest season. I mentioned that my friend Zack was also a fan of the show. This is when all fucking hell broke loose. He already seemed to be in sort of a bad mood that night but when I mentioned another guy’s name he flipped completely. I asked what his problem was and he said he can’t keep track of all of the guys I’ve introduced him to and he doesn’t care about the opinions of any of them anyway. “Why the FUCK would you text me what you’re talking about with other guys in the first place,” was actually what he said. He also told me it’s extremely rude to mention another man’s name to him.

He said, “I don’t care about your other dates and the guys you hang out with. It came across as ‘I’m dating soooooo many other guys and here’s what they’re all saying. Deal with it.’ Sarah likes rainbows. I don’t tell you that because why would you care about Sarah or her opinion on rainbows!? Tiffany and Jenni are happy. You want to get to do whatever you want without ever thinking of the other person. You don’t care about people. You’re rude and don’t care about…ME!! You wanted me to be jealous.”

Holy rant! After reading it all I told him to reread all of our messages when he’s sober. Then came the sarcasm…

“You win. You’re right. You couldn’t have done it any differently. It’s all my fault. I should have been intrigued with strange men’s comments. My bad. Think about all of this when you’re not so fucking selfish! Maybe I actually like you which is why I care so much about this. I said that you’re rude though but if you’re above hearing that and think you’re too good for that comment, I apologize. You don’t see it and you refuse to think about it! You were soooo polite it’s impossible to wonder why there was an issue. You could NEVER be wrong.”

Throughout all of this I repeatedly had to explain myself and remind him that Zack is my friend and he shouldn’t be so jealous and angry about me having friends who are guys because I have a lot of them and that won’t ever change. Finally I decided we were done for the night since this had gone on for hours. We could talk about it in the morning. The next day though, he was no different. I asked how he felt after reading the conversation when he was sober. “I have words. You won’t like them. Truce.” That’s all he had to say for himself after acting out and having a temper tantrum like a fucking spoiled child who didn’t get his way. I wished him good luck in life and dating and thought that was the end of it. He responded though and took everything I said the night before and twisted it. He said that I said, “Do you know who I am!? I’m better than you and my friends all hate you.” Now come on, even if that’s true I think we all know I’d have a much more creative way of saying it!

I was done though. I’ve dated too many jealous and insecure guys. I can’t tolerate guys who are intimidated by someone who is strong and independent and resilient. I won’t be with someone possessive and who twists my words and tries to mind fuck me. His behavior when we dated the first time all made sense now. I couldn’t figure out why he started fights with me and insulted me all the time. He was insecure and wanted to knock me down a little so he felt like he had more control over me. That’s some toxic bullshit and I fell for it when I was younger, more than once. I’m not going down that road again though.

Good luck to you, you sweaty bastard! You’re dead to me.

 

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.

 

 

 

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.

bible gun.jpg
‘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…

sloth goonies.jpg

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.

cocaine face.jpg

Does that have calories? I don’t eat calories.

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When I ditched the ex I also moved and left everything I owned behind. It was stressful, whether I knew it at the time or not. When I’m stressed, I have ZERO appetite. I didn’t want to eat anything at all for two months. I only ate Dunkin’ Donuts Wakeup Wraps because I knew I had to eat something to stay alive. Those were fast, cheap and easy, much like myself. I dropped a lot of weight quickly and had friends asking me to eat more because I didn’t look well. I fucking loved it. I took more naked selfies in these two months than I ever had in my life. The more my ribs protruded, the happier I felt. It was not sustainable though. It was a wakeup call when I had two weeks of copper-colored urine with blood in it. I was killing myself. Quickly. I had to put more in my body than Dunkin’ and booze.

Inevitably, I gained weight back when I started taking better care of myself and consuming more than 300 calories in food a day. I also started working out again and developed a routine and (relatively) good habits. I became much more healthy physically and emotionally. I also rediscovered Reece’s cups which might not have been a good thing. Although I had been dating the entire time, it wasn’t until I got healthy again that I could say I was actually ready to be dating. My confidence now though was high with my body changing that way. With my ex-husband, I never felt confident about my body. I never felt skinny enough, toned enough or sexy enough. I couldn’t even tell if he was attracted to me physically at all. There was no indication that he was since he rarely looked at me, complimented me even less and we stopped having sex all together.

Everyone has some insecurities when dating but for women, body and appearance are the biggest worries. There is so much pressure to look a certain way and it’s overwhelming and impacts us in a big way. Self-confidence wanes and negative thoughts about ourselves creep in. Everyone is worried that a potential partner will look at us the same way we look at ourselves and get hyper-critical. They won’t like how our thighs touch. They will think the little bulge over our bra is disgusting. They’ll hate the peach fuzz on our cheeks. We look at ourselves under a microscope and panic at any imperfection. Even when I was at my smallest size, there were still things I disliked about my appearance. I was at my ideal weight but was still picking myself apart in other ways. I needed bigger boobs. I needed Botox. My skin was too pale. My belly button was ugly.

I know I’ll never be completely satisfied with how I look but I’ve been actively trying to change my negative mindset in regards to my appearance. Every time I judge myself too harshly, I force myself to look at pictures of people who are truly fat and ugly so I stop throwing myself a pity party. Someone always has it worse than we do, am I right? RELAX! I’m kidding. All we can do is take care of ourselves. Go for walks, eat well, workout, overindulge once in a while instead of everyday. We’ll probably never be our own idea of perfect but we have to accept that. Someone probably sees us and thinks we’re their idea of perfect, so let it go. Your wrinkles are fine. That belly roll is cute. Your thighs look like they’re trying to escape from your jeans? Fuckin’ work it. Show it off. People will always talk shit no matter what. They judge no matter what. When it comes to dating, you won’t always be everyone’s favorite flavor but you will be to some.

When you wanted to be the dumper but end up being the dumpee

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I obviously was not a big fan of the guy who looked like a goldfish but I continued to see him when I was bored. He always showed up when I told him to and was a really good time when he wasn’t being annoying. It helped that he liked to always tell me that I look like the woman who plays the role of Wonder Woman in the new movie that was coming out. After our first week of hanging out, he sent me a text saying, “Happy one week anniversary!” I gagged. We got into a fight during that week too because he says really stupid things and interrupts people incessantly so I tell him to shut up and stop being a rude toddler.  He said that if we can get through that, we can get through anything.

He was also not a fan of the fact that I knew someone everywhere we went. He got jealous when I would talk to people I saw in public and started to resent me, I think. This lead to him picking on me for anything I said or did and he laughed about it when I got mad at him. When I asked him why he enjoyed pushing my buttons so much, he said I was just a spoiled princess who was used to everyone giving me everything I want and no one ever calls me out on my shit so he was going to continue to basically be a total dick.

Excuse me, Nemo!? I’ve worked my ass off for everything my whole life and never expect things from other people. No one calls me out on my shit because there’s no shit to call me out on! I can be a little (a lot) bossy sometimes but only when I need to be. Most of the time I get whatever I want from subtle manipulation so the bossiness doesn’t have to come out! I’m not a princess at all, either. How insulting! I’m a fucking goddess, dickwad.

I already planned to dump him that weekend when he would inevitably ask to see me. I would have done it sooner but I was in the middle of a 5 day drinking bender so it would have to wait. (Hey, it’s summer in Chicago and I’m single for the first time in years. I’m having fun! Don’t be a judgmental prick.) Saturday comes and he, of course, wanted to hang out when I got out of work. He spent the day on a boat with friends and told me he would meet me after he got cleaned up. I didn’t have to tell him where I was because after just a short time of knowing me, he assumed I’d be at my neighborhood bar since I didn’t have any plans. He assumed correctly.

By the time he showed up I was already hammered. I was not just drunk but straight up wasted. That’s what happens when you’re at the end of a 5 day bender, apparently. It doesn’t take much to get you there when you’re body is probably made up of about 90% alcohol at this point. Someone recently described this to me as the shampoo effect. A post in Urban Dictionary very eloquently explains this phenomenon. The fifth entry is my favorite.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=shampoo+effecthttp://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=shampoo+effect

My friend Alyssa met me as well and she had to explain the night to me a few days later since after they showed up, I remember nothing besides waking up on my toilet in the middle of the night with my phone in my hand. We apparently went to two other bars and Jon just kept picking fights with us and she and I did a lot of eye-rolling and had plans to ditch him. He started an argument about whether there were stray cats in the city of Chicago or not. (He doesn’t think they exist.) I think the topic was brought up because of  Alyssa’s bewilderment over pigeons who only have one leg and why they end up that way, but I’m not entirely sure. Either way, what a fucking stupid thing to argue over! Our plans to ditch him ended in failure. Somehow Alyssa ditched us instead and he ended up at my apartment around the corner.

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The only goldfish we like are our crackers.

 

When I woke up from my toilet nap, I shot him a text asking what the hell happened the night before and where he went. He explained to me that I irritated him because he knew I was in the bathroom ignoring him and he was positive I was not sleeping. So he left me in there and didn’t try to find out what’s going on!? Why the hell would anyone hide out in their own bathroom? I could have been dying! Maybe I was choking on my own vomit! Maybe I drowned! He just left me there to die like Elvis! Wonderful…Could you imagine how mortified you’d be in your casket after reading your obituary??

Just as I started typing my crushing dump message, he texts me to say we shouldn’t hang out anymore because together we are “explosive”. He goes on to tell me I’m like a hurricane or firecracker, and not in a good way. Also, I’m “terrifying” to him. I’m absolutely flattered by all of this but am PISSED I didn’t send my message first! It’s so unsatisfying when you’re looking forward to something so much and it’s taken from you in an instant! Either way it’s done though. I tell him good luck and to let me know if he ever wants me to destroy him in Pac-Man or Skee Ball again like I did on our first date. AS disappointed as I was for not getting to do the dumping, I never had to see Flounder again and that was a good thing.

(Side note: Does anyone else think it’s hilarious that I said “dump”, “pissed” and “explosive” in a story in which I slept on a toilet?? Literal tears are streaming down my face from laughing so hard. Also, I have a clogged tear duct right now so that might be why but, I still can’t stop laughing. Also, I swear I only peed before taking my toilet nap.)

Jesus, take the wheel…

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Surprisingly, I was dateless on a Thursday night, so I went to my neighborhood bar for a drink after work. It was charity night with guest bartenders which sounds great but I usually dread it because I prefer my dive bar to be empty besides a handful of my closest alcoholic friends who are also regulars. I spotted two of them this night and plopped my ass right beside them. Bartender Doug slid my drink down before I even got settled and the guys and I started talking. Babes with Blades Theater Company was throwing the event for the night and had temporary tattoos for us to fuck around with. We made friends with Annie who was guest bartending and she and I talked about an old dive called the Oasis in Rogers Park and the badass woman named GiGi who has worked there for decades. One drink turns to two drinks and a shot and the boys and I chat back and forth about online dating while encouraging Annie to drink more Malort. We notice our beloved dive bar now is lacking their gorgeous 100 bottle Malort shrine and they’ve replaced it with a 20 bottle mystery shot shelf. (Not quite as impressive, Pat! Still cool though.) 20170526_235647167_iOS.jpg

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Vik asks us which bottle appeals to us most based on appearance and number. All of the bottles are covered in brown paper bags and numbered 1-20. Immediately I compare it to online dating. I tell them it’s similar to all of the dating apps because you have to just pick a random and hope for the best. You’re going in blind really. All you know is you’re not picking the short, fat bottle because it looks dangerous, just like you’re not picking the short, fat guy because EW. We come up with our own ideas for dating apps that we think would be better than Tinder and Bumble and all the others. “Jesus Take the Wheel” was the name Vik gave to our app idea that you’re not allowed to swipe on at all. It’s guided and directed by your friends and family only. We plan to market that one in the Bible Belt first, of course. I’m not expecting that one to do as well in Chicago to start.

Then, Vik drops some life-changing truth on us:

Women are the gate-keepers to sex. Men are the gate-keepers to commitment.

This explains why he swipes right on everyone and waits to see which fish bite. The more chances of getting laid, the better! But he’s right, unless GHB is involved. (Sorry. Not funny. True though!) Women decide who they want to have a second date with usually or who they want to go on a date with in the first place. At least I do. When I left my husband I lined up dates every night. Mostly because I knew I had no idea what I was doing on dates. I’ve been in non-stop relationships since I was 24 pretty much. As soon as I’d lose a guy, another would steal me and keep me a while before he did something awful and we split up. I needed to practice and get good at this dating thing again. Out of all the dates I’ve been on the past few months, few have ended in a second date and, obviously, fewer have ended in sex. I AM the gate-keeper!!! (Of sex, at least.) Most of the guys I had dates with wanted to see me again which means they had a strong interest in penetration as well. Duh. I controlled the outcome.

Men are the controllers of commitment and relationships though. Once you’ve dated for a while and you’re in a sexual relationship with someone, it means (usually) that the woman has decided she likes you enough to have a relationship. What it means to guys is, “Fuck, yeah! I bang this chick!” And he probably bangs a few others as well. Guys have the ball on this one though. They decide if it’s a green light or red on being committed most of the time. I’m currently waiting for the light to change with the guy I’m dating. It’s been two months. I’m stuck at yellow. I’m impatient though and I want to know where this is going, like yesterday!

In the meantime, I’ll get the Jesus Take the Wheel app going and pray to Malort that my friends and family can choose my match better than I can if this gate-keeper of commitment gives me the red light.

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!