And Then I’ve Had Some Good Dates…

I know I’ve only been posting about my dates from hell, but I have actually had some pretty good dates over the years. However, most of those had no chemistry on my part. Obviously, I had three months of great dates AND chemistry with OC, so that bar has been set to only find good dates that also have chemistry.

Years ago before I was married, I had a good date with a doctor, but there was no chemistry. Same goes for another date to a Renaissance faire and again to dinner but no chemistry. I’ve even had friends with benefits types of dates in the past that were a lot of fun. Today, I remain friends with many of these guys. And obviously I had some great dates with the person I was with for nearly 10 years. I had a pretty good first date with Computer Guy until he got weird and insisted he only wanted a relationship not a friendship. I had another good first and last date with someone our acquaintance set me up with… and again, no chemistry on my part, and I didn’t think we had that much in common.

I have also had some other great dates with good food and drinks and conversation. The most recent was with a man originally from California that is a few years older than me and super accommodating. We spoke on the phone for several hours until late morning over three nights. I really enjoyed talking to him; he was a good listener and a genuinely sweet person. Cali drove an hour to meet me for dinner at a really nice restaurant. When I arrived, he had flowers waiting. Our meal was amazing, and the date went very well. I wanted to have that chemistry, but no matter how hard I wanted to, I wasn’t feeling it. I don’t know what was holding me back; maybe it was lack of chemistry, maybe it was intuition of something I haven’t figured out yet. Or maybe it was because he looked so much like someone else I’d briefly dated (they even drive the same car!). And that really sucks, because Cali would probably make a great boyfriend for someone. I knew he could tell that I wasn’t into him as he was to me. But I am not sure if I could develop something more over time if we remain friends and get to know each other more than just over the phone. I think he may be like Needy Guy and only wanting an immediate relationship, whereas I’m all about taking things slow.

I know Cali wants more than just a friendship, and so do I, but I think a relationship really needs to start off as a friendship to begin with – chemistry or not. I can’t just rush into a situation like I have in the past. And there are things about Cali that really do melt my heart, but I can’t allow that to be my reason for going forward with a relationship. Looking back, it’s exactly how I ended up married to a person I basically had nothing in common with and no chemistry (who was also very needy).

I want a man that both makes my heart melt AND my panties wet!

Also, I think that just because I can hold a conversation for hours with certain people doesn’t necessarily mean we’re meant for each other in a romantic way. Obviously, being able to communicate in any relationship is a must for anything to last. But it seems like a lot of men confuse the fact that just because I’m nice that I’m automatically into them. Cali kept mentioning how close he felt to me by our conversations, and I truly appreciate that. However, I have had conversations with several people throughout my life that were just as good and just as long without having a romantic relationship.

So what now? I think I’m at least getting somewhere by raising the bar for what I want and what I’m not going to tolerate. I have been extremely flexible (too flexible!) in dating people that don’t make my “list” of things, which turned out to be disastrous. But I know one thing is for certain – the mental (which to me includes intellectual and emotional), spiritual, and physical ALL have to be included in my next one. It often seems impossible.

Why I Will Never Date a Trump Fan Ever Again

Before anyone gives me their bright unsolicited political opinions, let me just say I’m on neither side of the fence. I’m straight in the middle. But against my own beliefs, I gave some people the benefit of the doubt to get to know in the dating world. What a mistake and a waste of time that was!

Looking back, I realized that most (if not all) of my bad dates were indeed Trump fans. Specifically, Kiss Fanatic, King Nothing, Pig, Frat Boy, Mr. Volatile, Redneck, Mr. Retired Military, and even some of the guest blogger/anonymous submissions – Drunk Cowboy and Racecar Driver. On paper, these guys seemed great. In person, they were complete douchebags.

And then there’s a more recent one that I met thru Bumble that I’ll refer to as Toe Ring, because he had a toe ring. He also knows about my blog, so if he’s reading this, I’m pretty sure his asshole is puckering. We had an amazing first date at a new sushi restaurant neither of us had yet visited. He was courteous, kind, and well-mannered, and he even gave me a flower when I showed up. I thought that was an extremely sweet gesture. Our conversation was great and flowed easily. After sushi we went to get a few drinks and talked some more and decided to head to my house to wind down. We kissed a few times and ended up falling asleep on my couch. It was very innocent and nice and different from most dates that I was used to. But it was short-lived.

Toe Ring and I were supposed to go to dinner one night but I was extremely tired and asked for a raincheck. The following week, Toe Ring came to my house (he worked late) after work just about every evening, brought some beers and ended up getting shitfaced every single time. I began to think he had a drinking problem and told him so. Not only that, but he started getting aggressive and grabbing my boobs and acting like a total asshole. The first time it happened I blamed it on the alcohol, but he did it again. Then he started pressuring me for sex after I had made it clear I wasn’t going to do that unless I’m in a relationship. I reamed him about it, telling him it’s really disrespectful and nothing like he acted on the first date. Besides, we’d only been on one actual dinner date, and the rest of the time he just crashed at my house.

I had to keep reminding Toe Ring that I’d like to take him up on that raincheck for dinner (even takeout would have been acceptable at some point), but he was either always working late or had some other excuse… or was too busy getting drunk at a hotel bar an hour from my house. I was also convinced that he had another woman or two on the back burner in case we didn’t work out. I would ask him questions and he would dance around them without actually saying yes or no every single time. I mean, maybe he wasn’t actually seeing anyone else, but I had the gut feeling he was probably texting or sexting other women. So I didn’t exactly trust him.

Still, Toe Ring insisted on seeing me when he got off work, but after a week or so, I started to get bored with the routine of watching him get shitfaced and keeping me up late, groping me, pressuring me for sex, and using my house as a motel… and then letting the alarm go off two or three times at 5am because he had to work. Then one evening he started talking about needing someone to go to his house early in the morning to wake his kids and take them to school… and I thought holy hell, this guy just wants a woman around because he needs a babysitter. NO WAY!

Valentine’s Day rolled around, and I wasn’t expecting to hear from Toe Ring, but around 8pm that evening he asked me if I wanted to go out and do something. Right… at 8pm. At that point, I was already out with my gay friend (since I knew he wouldn’t try to fuck me) and was so annoyed at the fact that if Toe Ring really wanted to see me, he’d have planned it ahead of time. He insisted on seeing me, because he doesn’t give a damn what I want, just his own selfish wants. By the time I saw him, it was 9pm, and we live in an area where dinner closes around 10pm. This time, I had already been drinking, and this time I was the shitfaced one. I don’t even remember going back to my house, but I do remember being sober enough that I slept in my leggings and sweater that I wore out that night, because I wasn’t about to allow him to grope me or try to have sex with me again. When his alarm went off at 5am, he got up and wanted to have sex. Again, I was disgusted by his behavior and lack of boundaries and told him no way. He said, “Just give me six minutes,” and I woke up out of my slumber and about lost it.

He’s really lucky I didn’t have a grenade in my hand at that point, because I’d have stuck it in his pants. I was fuming that he had zero class and zero respect for my feelings, my needs, and my boundaries. When Toe Ring left, I couldn’t get back to sleep, which made me fume even more, so I sent him a barrage of text messages telling him exactly how I felt and letting him know what a selfish asshole he was and how fake he was by acting all normal and decent on the first date instead of being his normal dickhead authentic self. He ended up apologizing that he’s sorry it didn’t work out. And then about a week later he sent me another message apologizing again about it not working out – but not about his horrible, shitty behavior. If he were truly sorry, he’d have taken a hard look at his behavior and did something about it. With that being said, I can’t be sorry that it didn’t work out, because I am the same person I was on that first date with nothing to hide that tolerated far too many things that I should have let go the first time it happened.

I don’t normally bring politics into my dating life, but after meeting these awful guys, I now see I need to… that I have to ask some prerequisite questions even before the conversation starts. And the one is: “Are you a Trump Fan?” because it will save me a lot of aggravation in the long run. I can be friends with just about anybody, but I’m not sharing my life or my bed with a Trump Fan ever again, and I’m definitely not letting any of those assholes grab me by the pussy!

Being the Rebound Girl

For whatever reason, I tend to attract guys that are newly single or somewhat undecided about their single status. It didn’t matter much when I first became single, but it’s been a good five years now, so obviously I’m in a different frame of mind. Now whenever I meet someone I make it a point to ask when their last relationship was… and then I move on, because 99% of the time, it’s within the past few months or so.

When I was newly single after the divorce, I dated someone off and on for several months that I’d gone to high school with but had never known. I say off and on, because neither of us wanted a relationship,; he had nothing to offer me, and he consistently pissed me off. He basically worked very little, drank a lot, had no driver’s license, and 4 kids that I later learned hated him. The whole thing was more of a convenience, since he lived extremely close to me, so it was easy to hang out. I also did some work for him for which he paid me well, and I was also his designated driver (he paid me) since he couldn’t drive. So that part seemed like a win/win for us both.

We did have a lot of fun together, however. We went boating and partied a lot… and then I eventually realized he was probably the biggest liar I’d ever met. Even though we weren’t in a “relationship” it seemed we had a mutual understanding to not sleep around with other people while we were together. I was adamant about not catching anything gross and I needed that emotional connection that was honest. Honesty was not his policy, whatsoever; he was sneaky, and the more I learned, the more I began to distance myself.

One evening I was bitching to my bartender friend about him. Another woman was sitting next to me and started asking details…

Does he live here and do “this” for a living? Yes and yes. His name is “Big Liar”? Yes. She looked at me and was really nice about it and said that she was also going through a divorce and started seeing him. I thought how and when, because I live so close and we’re together often.

When she told me the dates/times, that’s when I figured out it was when I was out of town visiting my family. She showed me text messages he’d sent her in the weeks while he was still with me – he was trying to hook up, but she was no longer interested. I was fuming, but not at her. I thanked her for telling me everything, and we’ve been friends ever since.

I ended up leaving and driving straight to his house to tell him what a piece of shit liar he was. He acted like he didn’t care one single ounce about my feelings. I left angry and in tears, hurt and confused. (I think I threw a glass that shattered on his porch – not at him but at the universe. Oh, well.)

But the shitty part was – I was still doing work for him and needed the money badly, so I had to continue dealing with him.

This isn’t the end of the story. Just this chapter for now.

Random Bad Dates from my 20s

I’ve been trying to throw things away to make room for more, but can’t seem to get rid of things like my old scrapbook of “Crushes, Dates, & Loves”. I should hand this down to my daughter, as I’m sure she could appreciate some of these stories. Some stories I barely remember – or not at all.

No Money Man:
This was supposed to be a weekend getaway, but it turned out that I couldn’t get away fast enough. Probably in my early 20s, I was invited to spend the weekend in another town. There was no chivalry whatsoever. He would walk at least 3 to 5 steps in front of me, sat down at the dinner table before me, didn’t bother to open car doors, asked me for money, “joked” by saying annoying, sarcastic, demeaning things, and would put his hands on me in public to show that I was with him. On top of it all, I ended up paying for dinner! Apparently, I never saw this person again. Why don’t I remember this person? Probably because I didn’t want to. He sounds like a total douche!

The Meat Packer:
He never became an actual date, but I saw him at least weekly, which made my grocery shopping more enjoyable. This guy worked at Publix’s  meat department, and we shared the same name. He’d flirted with me on several occasions, always making conversation, but he never asked me out. I was a single mom at the time, going to college and working a job or three. Meeting decent guys was difficult, because in those days “nobody wanted to date a woman with a kid (except maybe old men).” So I finally got the nerve to ask him out instead. His response: “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that very much.” I was pissed and embarrassed, so I started shopping at a different store. Sorry, Publix!

Stinky Pillow Guy:
Back before Tinder, Bumble, and Match, people used Yahoo Personals. I was in my mid to late 20s when I met a guy that lived about an hour or so away. He was very polite and very sweet, even in person. We got to know each other for a few weeks online and by phone, and when I met him, I liked him. Since he lived far and I didn’t want anyone at my house (it was also much easier for me to run far away!), I made plans to stay the night at his house – on the couch. Our date consisted of me giggling at the fact he didn’t have many table manners, but it wasn’t because he was rude; he was just inexperienced. We went to a sushi restaurant where he proceeded to wipe his face with the o-shibori that was presented to us at dinner. Then I watched him butcher sushi rolls with a fork, because he’d never eaten it before. We then rented movies that he talked through them the entire time. Finally, I prepared to sleep on his old pullout couch with an awful back bar that just about crippled me. Then he gave me a nice moldy pillow for my head, and I immediately suffered an allergy attack. Last, but not least, I guess he assumed he was going to sleep with me and took it upon himself to jump in bed next to me and put his measley hands all over me before he started snoring loudly. I managed to ease my way out and left in the middle of the night and never turned back.

The Pilots:
I live in an area where there are a lot of flight schools nearby, so whenever my friends and I went out, we’d always meet pilots. I was probably in my late 20s when I met a pilot from Venezuela. He was in his 30s, and we hit it off immediately. I thought he had a lot of class, intelligence, and was attractive – much different from the down-home Florida cracker types I was used to meeting. He’d told me he’d been divorced for 7 months, but hadn’t been together with the wife “in a long time”.

I was really looking forward to getting to know him better, but after the crooked married cop situation, I decided to do a little research. Lo and behold, there was no divorce. When confronted, he became defensive and thought I was being ridiculous. I told him to call me when the divorce was final. I got a call from him a few months later at the beginning of the summer, and supposedly the papers were signed. Then the asshole stood me up for a date.

At the end of July, I bumped into him at a club where he introduced me to his new girlfriend. Four months later, they were engaged. Fly away, birdie, fly away!

Another pilot I met at a Best Buy while we were both arguing with the jerk at the computer repair dept. He was sort of a foreign guy, seemed really cool, only a couple years older, and he was kind of hot. The first night we went out, he said, “I think I could fall in love with you.”

That was waaayyy too soon for a first date, and it completely scared me off, so I never called him again. I saw him around a few more times, and he thought I hated him. I didn’t hate him, but I was certainly not ready for the “L” word either.

Do you have any fun dating stories you’d like to share? Send them here!

When Memories of Your Ex Dredge Up Annoyance

Sometimes you don’t notice things about yourself until someone else points it out. One of my friends pointed out that she’s noticed I have been mentioning a little about my ex husband more so than usual, mentioning things that he did that pissed me off. I guess I had been obsessing more with OC and anyone else in the past five years rather than concentrate on my divorce and the issues I had with my ex. But I didn’t see the need for it at the time, and I had pretty much doused my brain in alcohol to deal with it.

One of the things I mentioned to her the other day was the fact that my ex used to ruin things for me that I worked very hard to get. For example, when we were first married and had a brand new house, he decided he wanted a dog, even though he was working too much for the responsibility of one. So guess who ended up taking care of the dog, cleaning up shit and dirt and everything else that goes along with having a pet? Well, I’ll tell you it wasn’t him. The dog even tore up my things – sentimental things – and not his, which obviously made me fume. It actually made me resent my ex, because I thought it was unfair to put the responsibility on me when I clearly said I didn’t want a dog. (The dog turned out to be great, but that’s not the point.)

I was trying to run a photography business out of my home, but my domestic duties and caring for the dog was really getting in the way. My ex had no idea how to run or build a business and thought that since I was “home all day” I did nothing but “play on the computer”. (I guess writing two books, having a clean home and laundry, and doing everything else just magically happened.) I had created a portable studio in the house and was offering portraits for families, children, and women. For women, sometimes they’d want a maternity shoot or a boudoir shoot – something intimate and personal – and I wanted to be sure everything was professional so they’d feel comfortable, tell all of their friends, and I’d gain new business.

There was one woman that wanted a boudoir shoot for her husband, and she brought her friend with her, which I highly recommended as a safety measure. Since they would be coming to my home, I told my then husband he had to be gone when my client got there. It was imperative that when they arrived, they’d feel at ease without a male presence around, because from experience, sometimes that can be creepy. So what did he do? He stuck around until they got there and made sure he introduced himself to them. I let them know he’s leaving right now and glared at him to get the hell out.

I was super annoyed that he did that; it made it seem unprofessional to me. Looking back, he did all sorts of shit that sabotaged my career and a lot of other things I did. And now that I’m rebuilding everything from the bottom up and see him around town doing just fine and living the high life, I get angry, because I was there to boost him in his career.

Shortly after that incident, I found out he’d been searching my computer looking for the photos of my client, which really set me off, but I was very good at “hiding” the content under various folders, and he wasn’t as computer literate as I. But it made me mad that I couldn’t trust him, and I thought it was rude and creepy… and that I couldn’t even do my job without him interfering. I felt that he crossed a boundary, because my clients entrusted me to their personal needs. I feel that by him just being at the house when the other women arrived, it hurt my business.

I know that no relationship is perfect, and he had a lot of good things about him, but now that I’m divorced and sometimes reminded of things, I think why was I with this person? How did I not see he was either competing with me and one-upping me on everything (I’ll write about that later) or sabotaging what I was working to do? I guess I was blinded by love, because he was the only guy that I had dated at the time that was nice to me. But sometimes that “nice” is just to get what they want.

Raped By a Drunk Cowboy

Call it what you want – sexual assault, sexual coercion, rape – it’s WRONG.

Submitted by: Anonymous

There was a guy in town some of us knew as “Drunk Cowboy” because he frequented local bars, wore  a cowboy hat, and sang karaoke. I assumed he was probably an alcoholic, because he got loud in the establishments and started acting pretty stupid. I’d spoken to him a few times, and we had mutual acquaintances. Most women thought he was a good looking guy, but he had too many issues for my taste and totally not my type.

One evening I went to happy hour and Drunk Cowboy sat next to me. We chatted a bit and he picked up my tab, which I thought was nice. By the time I was ready to leave, I realized I needed to call an Uber, because I was too tipsy to drive. Drunk Cowboy offered me a ride, since he was heading in my direction. I obliged, thinking nothing of it, because in a small town, people often give each other rides. Plus, I hadn’t heard anything bad about him from anyone else.

I realized I was hungry when we got to my place, so I invited him in for some pizza I was going to cook. There was nothing strange about the encounter. There was no flirting (at least I didn’t see it), no kissing, no touching. It was simply two people sharing a pizza and shooting the shit.

Drunk Cowboy decided he was too drunk to leave, so I agreed for him to sleep on the other side of my bed. I kept my clothing on completely – long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I recall falling asleep quickly, as I was exhausted and the alcohol made me more tired. At some point – and I’m unsure of how long I’d been asleep, I awoke to Drunk Cowboy feeling me up and attempting to take my pants off. I tried moving my body around, moving his hands away, saying no. I recall saying “no, no, no, please no” over and over. I know he heard me, but he ignored me. I had no intention of having sex with him or anything else. I wasn’t turned on. He wouldn’t stop, and I was too weak to fight him off. He was on top of me holding my legs down with either his legs or hand, I coudn’t tell. He entered me, had sex with me for a few minutes, came inside of me, rolled over, put his clothes back on, and went back to sleep.

At first I thought I was having a nightmare, but it was real, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I lay there stunned and not knowing what to do. I felt like a wounded animal and blamed myself for allowing someone I barely knew into my home and bed. I blamed myself, because I was too drunk to fight back.

The day after it happened, I didn’t leave my house. I couldn’t take a long enough hot shower to wash away the awful feelings. I worried about having an STD. I had bruises on my inner thigh that appeared to be a handprint. I felt like total shit. I canceled a date a day or so later that I had been looking forward to, because I couldn’t face anyone or be myself. I felt numb. I stopped shaving for a few weeks until I couldn’t stand it anymore – but I knew no one would be feeling my legs or anything else anytime soon. I wanted no one to touch me. I was just healing from other issues in my life. This set me back again, I felt. I told one trusted friend, because I had to get it out, but no one else until now.

I haven’t seen or heard from Drunk Cowboy again, although we don’t have each other’s phone numbers either. I have avoided the last place I saw him and any other places I may see him. I really have nothing to say to him, because I’m pretty sure he’s the type of guy that would either say it was consensual or just deny it. I really don’t care if I ever see him again. But I do wonder if he’s done this to anyone else in my town.

Viewing the Negative Side of a Relationship In Order to Move On

I have had to force myself to find the negative side of things that I haven’t been able to completely move on from. The negative side of OC, that is. Many things remind me of him, like every time I see a white pickup truck I look to see if it’s him. (Do you realize how many white pickup trucks are on the road?) I play a game that sometimes shows what appears to be a red kayak and someone on a paddle board – both things that remind me of him. It’s gotten better over time, but for whatever reason, it still hurts after a year and a half. I want to get over this and wish I had a year ago.

By now, just the fact that I was never given closure to the situation tells me he’s not a real man – but a pussy – and I already have one of those; I certainly don’t need it in a man. He should have given me an explanation and lived up to his word of not hurting me like he told me. He shouldn’t have led me on saying he missed me and he wasn’t ignoring me, that he was just busy with work… all the way up to two days before he dumped me. What kind of person does that? That is one hell of a character flaw.

I’m not a morning person by any means, but I absolutely love having coffee or breakfast with someone. Not every day, but often enough. OC never stayed for breakfast, even though he said he doesn’t eat breakfast, but every morning he would leave and “check the waves” for surfing and never spend mornings with me. At the time I was just happy to have any time with him, because he always had a lot of family and work things going on. It was odd, because after 2-3 months of staying the night most of the week, you’d think one morning would be in order, right? Well, it never happened.

There were things he told me he would do for me and never did them before he broke up with me. That’s a peeve of mine. For instance, he was going to get me a container to use as a fire pit in my backyard. He was talking about doing some of the things to my patio area to make it nicer. He alluded to us going camping when the weather cooled down. Just do what you say you’re going to, don’t leave me hanging, and certainly don’t make it seem like there’s a future in front of us before you dump me by text and then ghost me forever. That’s just shitty.

The fact that he was still technically married (and still is!) and still living on the same property as his ex made it weird. (I did confirm they were definitely not together.) He referred to her as his “future ex-wife” but had to take care of some financial things first, and I was understanding of that, because I’ve had my own situations. But after he dumped me the way he did, I began to wonder if he ever had any intention of leaving, if he just ups and leaves every ten or fifteen years to have some flings and then goes back to try to work it out. Who knows?

Another thing that bothered me was that he had his ex’s name tattooed on his hip, and he had no intentions of ever getting rid of it or covering it up. He said no one will see it. I said I see it, and any other woman you choose to have sex with is going to see it. Duh. I should have guessed that he wasn’t ready to completely move on from her, either, and probably why he has dragged out his non-divorce for so long.

Then to top it off, he started liking some of my Instagram posts, yet still didn’t have the balls to say a word to me. He matched with me on Bumble last year and still never replied. It’s hard to know if he was just playing games or still too much of a pussy to say a word to me. Either way, I don’t get it at all. Nothing makes any sense to me.

One of the negative feelings I had with OC was the feeling of never really having him… as if there was this elusive free spirit vibe. That could have very well been my own insecurity, but it’s so confusing to not know what really happened. I figured maybe if I focus on the negative, I will realize how wrong we were together and perhaps find someone else to be happy with, because it’s obvious I will never get an answer from him. Maybe I should use the experience to write a fiction novel, but in the end, the lead character gets the actual answers she deserves.