Don’t Mess With Women Over 40

I met Timberland around the same time I met Pig, but I had no interest in pursuing a relationship him, because he was only 30 years old. I call him Timberland, because all he wears are color coordinated Timberland boots to match his T-shirts. No joke. He took me out to dinner and never tried anything with me, seemed to like me and treated me well. We enjoyed each other’s company, watched scary movies together, and remained friends. He also knew about the situation with Pig and thought he’d done a shitty thing.

One night I was out with friends and ran into Timberland. He said he had to go somewhere and was coming back to meet me. I stayed at the place longer than intended, because supposedly he was on his way. He never showed up, so I texted him something like, “Hey, where are you?” I don’t know what his issue was, but he snapped at me that he’s a grown ass man and doesn’t have to answer to anyone. I reminded him that he’s the one that said he was coming back, and I don’t appreciate waiting around on anyone. He apologized the next day, but he fell off the grid for a couple of weeks. Whatever.

Eventually, Timberland came back into the picture and seemed a little more aggressive putting the moves on me. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from, because he’d never tried anything before. We started hanging out more often, but I had a feeling he was playing me, so I kept a safe distance. Then Timberland started being a dick – and twice in one week, he’d texted me something about “No wonder you’re still single at your age.” Wow.

I reminded Timberland that I’m not “still single”, that I had been in an 8-year marriage, and single again. And besides, what did age have to do with it? He apologized and said he shouldn’t have said that. I mentioned that he obviously had an issue with my age and the fact that I’m single, but if it weren’t for me being single, we’d have never met, because I don’t go out that often or talk to other men when I’m with someone. Again, he apologized. Whatever.

A couple of nights later, Timberland wanted me to come to his house to cuddle, but it was late, and I was already in my pajamas. Plus, I felt that he was just using me at his convenience, and I was still ticked for his comments. Again, he fell off the radar for two weeks until he was supposed to stop by my house to drop something off. He said he would be by in a little while, then postponed it to later. Later came, and Timberland said he ate something and wasn’t feeling well and was at his house laying low, but I could meet him to pick it up. This was six hours after he was initially supposed to come by, and again, I was already in my pajamas and annoyed that he wasted my time.

The following day one of my coworkers said she’d been hanging out with my friend Timberland. I was like what… really? He was blowing up her phone with texts, calling her “babe”, and had been in our work the evening before – the same evening he was supposedly not feeling well and had me waiting around and blew me off. That little son of a bitch, I thought.

I filled my coworker in with what really had been going on. She was pissed, because Timberland lied to her saying he and I hadn’t hung out in two months. I scrolled back thru my texts and we learned that exactly three days after he asked me to cuddle with him, he was at my work hitting on her. Wow, what nerve! I said I wondered why I hadn’t heard from him and had my suspicions… but what I didn’t expect was a repeat of Pig coming into my job to pull that shit. Besides, how stupid do you have to be to try picking up two women that work in the same building? So we decided to teach him a lesson.

She asked him to come into our work to see her. Since she and I normally work different shifts, I suppose he wasn’t expecting me to be there. He showed up wearing his matching Timberland boots, probably almost shit his pants when I sat next to him asking how he was feeling, since he seemed “so sick” the night before. He said he was fine, he was just looking for something (on the menu), to which I replied, “Looking for what, another waitress?” He knew he was busted, and the little dicktard wouldn’t look at me at all. I got up and sat at another seat, and two minutes later he disappeared, nearly running away. Timberland called my coworker, yelled at her, and she told him off and hung up on him. Everyone at our job knew what was happening, and we couldn’t help but laugh. It was priceless.

I never heard back from him again, not even after I sent him a text:

“Don’t mess with women over 40. We don’t appreciate games and will teach you a lesson, probably one you’re not expecting. No wonder you’re still single, and you’ll probably still be single at my age!”

A Date with a Pig

A couple of months ago a friend invited me to an art gallery for a wine tasting. I’m not a wine drinker, but I was more interested in seeing the gallery. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone there of the opposite sex that would interest me, but I did. And I was happy to actually meet someone in person at an event that I would enjoy.

Pig and I are around the same age and hit it off. We had a lot in common, got along well, and ended up on a couple of dates that included kayaking and making dinner together. Initially, Pig was very sweet, and I hadn’t had that much fun since Orange Crush, which at that point had been about a year and a half. But I still had my guard up.

Then Pig told me he wasn’t looking for a relationship, that he didn’t know what he wanted. So I put another wall up and told him then we can only be friends, nothing more. I think that may have disappointed him, but too bad, because I made it clear I didn’t want to have sex with anyone that is probably having sex with other women. Still, Pig and I hung out. I still liked him, and he knew it.

Pig visited me at my job one evening, flirted with me, drove me back to the house after work, kissed me, and then proceeded to tell me he was meeting up with friends, one of which he had slept with. I said, “So you’re going on a date?” He said no. I said well, that sounds like a date to me. And then he invited me to meet him at the place.

I said, “Are you serious??? What do you think is going to happen here? You know I like you… you’re off to meet up with another woman that you’ve admitted you’ve had sex with. At least one of two things is going to happen. Either one or both of us is going to be pissed off, and I’m definitely going to be one of them.” He finally agreed that it was stupid of him to invite me to see him on another date. It didn’t sit well with me.

About a week later I saw Pig out with yet another woman that he hooked up with from Bumble. A few days later he invited me over for dinner, which he ended up burning because he was drinking too much (and I later learned doing other substances). We kissed on his couch, and I was in the moment, but it wasn’t until he stood up and stuck his dick in my face that I realized he’d somehow managed to take his pants off without me noticing. I was like wtf are you doing??? I ended up leaving, because his behavior annoyed the shit out of me. The following day, Pig was supposed to deliver something to my house for me to borrow, but he turned out to be unreliable. At that point, I realized I should probably just cut ties with him.

Still, Pig was friendly, and visited me at my job a few weeks later. He was flirting with another woman half his age right in front of me. When she turned to go into another room, he pointed at her and said, “I want that right there!” Right to my face. I gave him the dirtiest look and said, “She’s half your age!” He said, “I don’t care.” He continued to flirt with her right in front of me while also showing me pictures of his new boat. I was furious at him for being such a dick to come to my job and do that. Right in front of Pig, I said to the girl, “Be careful of this guy, he’s a player.” He tried to be sly and slipped her his phone number. I told her everything I knew about him.

Later that evening, Pig texted me to please not talk shit about him to the girl or anyone else. Then I let him have it… told him to go fuck himself, and on what planet did he think it was okay to come into my work and do that shit right in front of me? He apologized and said something about us being friends. I said, “You’re no friend, my friends don’t disrespect me. You’re a womanizing asshole. I don’t need to talk shit, because you pretty much speak for yourself. I view you as nothing more than a pig.”

I haven’t heard from him since, but I was told he came back into my work looking for the other girl. Not only is she not interested, she’s creeped out by him now.

The Return of Douchebags

It seems like they all come out of the woodwork at once. Besides constantly seeing my ex husband with his fiancé all over town, I keep running into these douchebags.

Since my last post, Frat Boy returned my robe, but not before harassing the shit out of me first. He texted me numerous times trying to talk to me, but I was either working, busy, or just not in the mood for dealing with his shit. He filled up my voicemail with stupid messages asking why I’m not speaking to him – filled it up so much that I missed important messages, because there was no room left. That really annoyed the crap out of me. Finally, I told him that the reason I don’t want to speak to him is because of the last incident when he acted like a total ass, to which he replied that I always blame him for something… as if I made him act that way. So I told him to just mail my robe back, because I wasn’t about to have to see him, and I didn’t want him at my house. About a week or so ago, I was sitting at home doing some writing. Frat Boy had pulled up at my house and stuck the robe on my front doorknob. I made sure I bleached it well.

About a month ago, my friend and I went to watch a musician play at a local tavern. I noticed King Nothing there and ignored him. Suddenly, this woman walks up to us and introduces herself to me. She knew my name, and I swear I’d never seen her before. She shook my hand and said it was nice to meet me. I was like wtf? Who are you, and how do you know my name? She said everyone knows who I am. I said who’s everyone, because I rarely go to this place. My friend and I looked at each other like what is this about? She wasn’t even looking at my friend, just me, saying she just wanted to meet me. It was very bizarre. Sure enough, she leaves and it turns out she was there with King Nothing. Why anyone would want to stir up some drama is beyond me, but apparently they deserve each other. What a tool!

I saw Mr. Volatile on Match, and he liked me and messaged me. Apparently, he didn’t even recognize me, even though I still look the same as I did when I dated him six months ago. He had his age listed as 44, even though he’s 51. I replied with “You don’t recognize me? We’ve already met and dated. You might not want to lie about your age on here.” I guess my location threw him off, but he said he liked my photos. Whatever. I said, “I suppose you don’t recognize me, because the entire time we went out to dinner you were checking out other women. Then you ditched me at a bar I didn’t even want to go to. So no wonder you don’t remember.” He had nothing to say after that. Another tool.

I’ve been making a good attempt at going to new places in another city to get away from the madness around here at least once a week. But of course, I just had to run into someone else from the past – a cop that I briefly dated – that turned out to be married but divorced earlier this year. He stood me up on a Friday night around my birthday, so I haven’t kept in touch with him. He offered to buy me a beer, so I agreed. I was showing him something I had been working on and ended up getting another beer. When the bill came, he never paid for the first beer. What a douche!

After not running into him for months now, I saw Orange Crush on Black Friday in the parking lot across from my job, walking into another establishment. He and the guy he was with were looking up where I was standing at my job, while a co-worker and myself were staring down at the parking lot. I’m pretty sure he knows where I work, and at this point, I’m pretty sure he’s still a huge pussy and can’t face me like a man. But I still started shaking again when I saw him. I didn’t think I would still have those feelings that I can’t seem to shake. I’ll be so glad when that finally happens!

First Turn-Off – The Big Baby

The first turn-off in my marriage was the day he cried. No, not just cried. Bawled.

No one had died, and nothing bad had happened. Big Baby sat in the beige recliner in front of the tv in the living room of our brand new home and bawled his head off all because he couldn’t have his way. Not joking.

One of Big Baby’s friends was getting married, and he’d already decided he didn’t want to attend the wedding, didn’t want to take the 4-state trip up the coast, and since we’d just bought a house, funds were short. Big Baby changed his mind a few days before the couple’s big day when he found out some of his other friends were making the trip, and it would be one big party. What’s what set it off. The only thing keeping him back was the lack of funds – something HE chose to spend on things I didn’t find necessary.

Now I’m a pretty compassionate person, and normally I would console someone during times of distress. But I just couldn’t bring myself to console someone over something like this. Our marriage was new, and we’d only been together for just over a year at that point, so I wasn’t even sure how to handle this situation.

When asked what was the matter, Big Baby said he missed his friends. Okay… nevermind he had a new wife here he wasn’t even considering to bring with… but okay. I should have known then that this wouldn’t be the last time Big Baby would cry about much of nothing or throw temper tantrums like a 3-year-old, punching holes in walls and essentially turning me off from our sex life. No grown ass woman wants to have sex with a man-child.

More to come…

Knowing What I Want in a Relationship

It’s been over a year ago that I wrote down exactly what I want in a partner. Finding anyone to fit the criteria has been a challenge. While some people (that have never seen the list) think that I’m setting my expectations too high, I disagree. In my past relationships, I have always settled for less than I want. Maybe I thought I didn’t deserve what I really want or didn’t think it existed, but that got me nowhere in the long run. Even in my recent dating life, I have overlooked some things just because there are no other options (besides sitting home with my cat), and I still felt like I was selling myself short.

The criteria I have set isn’t out of the ordinary. Asking for things like loyalty, honesty, considerate, stable, etc., are just basic things we all want. But believe it or not, even those things can be difficult to come across in the world of dating. Someone that brings out the best in me and appreciates me is not asking for too much. And I don’t care what anyone says – physical attraction has to be there – because I have also settled in the past and ended up repulsed once their true attitude came out.

Earlier this week, someone made a comment to me twice – “No wonder you’re still single at your age.” Really? Still single? I was married for 8 years, so I’m just single again. I’m not settling just to be in a relationship, because I’m not needy like that. And the age comment was just stupid. Plenty of people my age and older have been single for years. Plenty of people my age and older have never even given marriage a shot, so anyone that thinks that me being single is an issue can seriously shove it. And of course, the older we get, the more narrow the dating field is. I’d take being single over being in an unhappy relationship any day of the week.

And I know I’ve said I’m never going on a dating site ever again. But a few people have said to try the Match site, because people have to pay to contact/reply, etc., and it helps filter out a lot of idiots like the free sites and apps. So I went ahead and signed up on Match for three months. The thing I do like about it is they match with what both parties are looking for, even though some are contacting me that clearly do not meet my standards. I’m getting plenty of emails and chatting with some people. I’m not jumping at meeting anyone immediately, because I think it’s important to feel them out for a good week. If they have a “must meet now” attitude, sayonara, because those are usually the types that want to jump into something and turn out to be control freaks. Having respect for my needs is another thing right up there on my list… which is NOT asking for much at all.

The Frat Boy in the Pink Robe

People are always telling me I need to date older men, but I have found it is no different than dating someone around my own age or younger. About three years ago, I met an older man through some friends (I will refer to him as Frat Boy). I thought I’d give it a chance, but he turned out to be very immature for a man in his 50s, and we really didn’t have very much in common.

I hadn’t seen Frat Boy in quite some time and ran into him earlier this year. We kind of picked up where we left off – only as friends. We met for beers a few times, and it didn’t take long for me to remember why I suddenly fled from him three years ago. Nothing changed, and I’m pretty sure he lied about his age before, because he was five years older than I recall three years prior. Hmmm…

The last incident with Frat Boy happened a few months ago. I’d been working three jobs, six days a week, and was completely exhausted. One of the jobs is very physical, so when I get off of work, I want to relax and do nothing. (If I’m really lucky, I may con someone into rubbing my feet and legs.) One evening after a grueling day at work, I met FB for a beer or two, and he’d been drinking at a game all evening. Promising to give me a foot massage, I allowed him to come to my house. Once he arrived, I regretted it.

It was that night that I remembered how much FB’s voice annoyed me… like a high pitched nasally whine. He started off with his whine saying, “You better take a shower if you want me to rub your stinky, smelly, sweaty feet.” Mmmkay.

I barely got a foot rub. And then everything he said pierced my nerves to the bone. I finally told him to stop whining, that I didn’t want to hear it. He replied back with his whiny voice, “What! Whining? Are you calling me a sissy?”

I was like huh??? First of all, sissy isn’t even a word I use. After all, this isn’t the 1950s. At that point I was just rolling my eyes and kicking myself for allowing him over.

Next thing I know, Frat Boy decided to use my bathroom but never came out. I noticed the light off, and it connects to my bedroom, so I peeked inside. There was Frat Boy lying in my bed butt ass naked, sleeping (or pretending to). By then, I was super annoyed and decided he could sleep there and I’ll take the couch. I didn’t care. I was in pain from working all day and night and just wanted to relax and sleep.

A few minutes later, Frat Boy starts whiny yelling from my bedroom, “Susanna! Are you coming to bed? Come in here and ride this dick!”

I wanted to vomit.

He kept saying stupid shit, and I was mostly ignoring him and telling him I’m tired and not moving. Then he came through my bathroom wearing my pink velour Victoria’s Secret bathrobe threatening to leave my house in it, because he wasn’t feeling welcomed.

I swear I cannot make this shit up!

At first I was confused thinking that maybe he is a sissy, maybe he likes women’s clothing… and really, wtf?

Like a 3-year-old, Frat Boy kept threatening to leave, and I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Okay.”

He said he was going to walk out the door in just my pink bathrobe. I answered, “Don’t forget your clothes, and don’t let my neighbors see you,” because I truly didn’t give a shit.

And he did. He drove home wearing nothing but my pink bathrobe. I told him he can have it, since he seemed to like it so much. Now he calls me almost daily begging me to call him back or to see him. I have no interest, but the asshole owes me a new bathrobe.

A Date with a Racecar Driver

GUEST BLOGGER:
(SUBMITTED BY: Anonymous)

A while back I met a guy out, we exchanged numbers, and went on a couple of lunch boating dates. He was about 10 years older, had grown kids, used to drive racecars, and seemed to have his shit together.

The first time Racecar tried to kiss me, it was unexpected, which is probably why it made it awkward. I think it was the timing, because I was still getting to know him and wasn’t at that point of wanting to kiss him. At the time I thought he was moving too fast, and I still had my reservations about him.

Several dates later, I decided I liked Racecar enough to continue seeing him, and eventually I let him kiss me, and over time had sex. It was okay, and thankfully he didn’t act like he was on the race track. His racecar was a nice size, but due to his lifestyle and age, he couldn’t keep it running. Very frustrating when you’re in the moment, but it is what it is. Another thing I noticed is he definitely could not keep his motor running when I was on top. That’s a huge deal, probably some mommy issues.

Even worse, while Racecar was trying to keep his racecar in me, he was talking dirty, saying things over and over: “Look at that tight little pussy! Give me that tight little pussy! I love that tight little pussy!” A little awkward, but I figured it was the first time, so give it another chance.

Second time, same story.

Third time, same story.

Racecar kept repeating the “TLP” phrase, and I felt like I was in the movie Groundhog’s Day. I actually busted out laughing, because I felt it was so ridiculous and definitely did nothing for me; in fact, it distracted me from the moment. I asked him why he said that every single time, over and over. He claimed it helped him to concentrate reaching orgasm. Mmmkay.

Then I began to find out some things. I thought his social drinking was normal, because after one or two drinks he seemed pretty tipsy… until he revealed that he takes pain meds daily. That explained that. It also probably explained why his racecar didn’t run so well. He actually reminded me a little bit of a friend that had a drinking problem that passed away a couple of years ago, so I really started to open my eyes at that point.

On our last date, Racecar took me for a ride in his prized pristine fast car. We were in a residential area where the speed is about 30 mph… and he decided that it was okay with me as his passenger to double the speed. I pretty much freaked out, because there was a ditch on my side, and all it would take is one person to pull out on one of those side streets for my life to either be gone or be completely changed forever. Then he proceeded to pull out onto the main highway fish tailing and squealing tires, leaving marks in the road. He thought he was being cool. I thought he was being a selfish, thoughtless asshole.

At that point I realized that this “relationship” was going nowhere and he was more about pleasing himself than pleasing me, and I decided none of that was going to work for me. I haven’t seen him since, but I suspect that I will eventually run into him in my small little town that I’m beginning to dread.