Mr. Potty Mouth

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The weekend of Labor Day, I flew to Seattle to spend the week with my best friend. It was my last couple of weeks on Match (for round one anyway) and I was e-mailing a couple of fellows.

One gave me his phone number, so I texted him one night after my friend and I had settled down for the evening. Instead of texting back, he immediately called me. Because I had nothing better to do and he knew I wasn’t in the same state. I should have known better. We talked for a little over an hour and he was horrible at conversation. He cussed and talked about exes and how he just got home from a Hooters-like restaurant with his lady friend. Like I’ve said before, I give way too many chances when I shouldn’t. So we chatted a couple of nights and decided to meet up when I got home to the Midwest (against my friend’s advice. She wasn’t a fan and she hadn’t even met the guy.)

We met at brewery which wasn’t exactly close to my neighborhood. He walked in looking like Eminem a la “My Name Is.” Dear God. I didn’t know any self-respecting man bleached his hair after 2000. Oh wait, he wasn’t self-respecting. We sat in the booth for a bit before ordering anything. I couldn’t decide if I should get a beer. Hind-sight: always get the beer. It would have made things less painful. We had decent conversation at first, but it quickly escalated into me having visions of my right fist contacting his left eye socket.

We shared a few sarcastic remarks that seemed pretty harmless, but my sarcasm was returned by just plain rudeness. My favorite moment of the night? I decided to make a crack about a shirt I have that has a beautiful design with birds and swirls, but in the midst of the swirls has the words “love sucks.” Funny, right? To which he replied, “Oh man, I should have worn my ‘I hate red-heads shirt!'” Very shortly after, the check came and he paid for my dinner. I offered to pay my part but he said, “every time a girl pays for herself, I never see her again.” I hate to break it to you, but it might be your abrasive personality.

Ladies, he’s still single! Unfortunately I still hear from him. He texts me once or twice a month to see if I want to grab a drink “as friends.” No thanks buddy.

I am a Cougar

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I don’t look my age. This poses a dating problem.

I noticed a cute fellow checking me out at the gym back in October. He looked about late 20s and he was buff and Indian. As I went to my locker, he walked by. Then he walked by again. Then he stopped. I said hi and continued on my way. He stopped me and asked for my name and told me I was beautiful. He asked if he could take me out and then he asked if he could hug me. After my workout? I was a sweaty beast, but gave the guy a hug.

He didn’t even wait 5 minutes to text me. We texted all night, but I had a funny feeling when he asked me to dinner at Old Chicago. I said I wasn’t a fan of chain restaurants and asked him if he had ever been to Westport (a bar district). He said no, but what was their food like. I realize: “Oh my God this guy isn’t even 21!” I ask. He’s 20. I tell him I’m 30 and divorced. He still wants to take me out. I’ll give anyone a chance so I tell him “yes, why not?”

I show up on time. He shows up 10 minutes late. We sit in a booth across from each other. He barely says 10 words in the first 20 minutes. I feel like I’m having dinner with a cousin. We talk about the classes he’s taking and how he moved to the US when he was 15. We talk about his family and what he wants to do with his future. He blurts out that I’m his first date. EVER. My heart starts pounding. Here I am dating at least three guys at once on Match, quadrupled the number of men I’ve slept with since my divorce that January, and he has never been on a date before. Oy vey. After he pays (a true gentleman, even though I sternly offered), we go outside. I tell him that he’s sweet, but it’s just not going to happen. He knew it wasn’t going anywhere, but he says he’s happy to have met me and now he’ll have the confidence to ask out ladies of an appropriate age.

He still texts me for love advice. It’s pretty awesome.

Enter the Mechanic

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Adam was my mechanic and has been present in my life for about two and a half years. He was my forbidden fruit: I took a bite, got caught and subsequently divorced. Adam was a mystery and he ultimately broke my heart. All tears aside, he was the best thing that could have happened to me.

We continued to text and got together once prior to my legal divorce. I went on a ten day road trip that November and he asked me to send him pictures. He told me he wanted to see me when I was back in town. However, when I got back home, he didn’t respond to my text and I let things die. I didn’t hear from him until June 23rd. His birthday.

He was on-again-off-again with his girlfriend. When they were rocky, he would text me. If things were good, I wouldn’t hear from him. So why after 7 months of nothing was he texting me? His favorite thing to say was “I don’t want any drama.” Excuse me? I’m single and YOU texted ME. He wanted me to come see him. After all the shitty guys I’d dealt with and the fact that I wasn’t getting laid on a regular basis, I figured why not. I was barely in the door when he started kissing me and telling me how much he missed me. His apartment reeked of weed and he had alcohol on his breath, but I was there for one reason and I wasn’t leaving without accomplishing that one thing. Afterward, we walked out onto his balcony and he talked about the Super Moon and how much he loved the summer and blah blah blah… I told him it was late and I had to work the next day. I couldn’t believe how hurt he looked, but he hugged me and kissed me and told me he’d see me soon.

We didn’t communicate for a couple of months. He was back with his girlfriend and things were complicated. He started texting me A LOT toward the end of September. He was single and wanted to see more of me. At the end of October he finally came out with it and said he liked me and wanted to date me but “didn’t have anything to offer.” He started coming over to see me on a weekly basis after his class. We didn’t see each other on the weekends, but I was just happy he wanted to see me at all. I knew deep down that it wasn’t something that would last, but I wanted it to continue because he made me feel like no man had ever made me feel.

Our weekly meeting went on for about four months until I decided I wasn’t okay being at his beckon call. I hadn’t heard from him in about a week and I knew something was up. I sent him a super long text detailing how I wasn’t an object and being on his schedule just wasn’t cutting it, etc… I didn’t hear back. One week later, I sent another message. This time I apologized if I hurt his feelings but I was hurt and wanted to express those feelings to him. I received a reply 5 minutes later: Adam had a soft spot for me emotionally but knew it could never work out between us because we came from such different worlds. He said he had been seeing someone and was trying to behave. He also said he knew this wasn’t the right way to go about telling me, but he had so many feelings for me that he couldn’t stand to hurt me. He also wanted to be friends, but he didn’t think I wanted that. WHAT? Upfront honesty would have hurt less.

I will never take my car to him for work again. He told me several times that he gets so high that he loses tools in people’s cars. He is a half-assed, cheating, lying person but I’m honestly glad to have had the experience with him. Every woman needs to date that asshole who turned their life around.

He gave me a plant when we first started dating. I re-potted it two weeks before he broke my heart. I have dreams about throwing it through his business window or leaving it on the step of his duplex. I’ll never do those things because I’m not a crazy lady. I’ll never text him or call him again, but I’m sure I’ll hear from him in the future…

A Busy Week

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My first date of the week was electrician #1. Why #1? Because a few days ago, I was friend zoned by electrician #2. #1 was cute in his pictures. We talked twice on the phone. He said a few things that should have made me say “I don’t really think we should meet in person,” but I felt I should give him a chance. One of these things was about swearing. He said he wasn’t fond of ladies who used swear words and he thought it was very off-putting. I told him I like to sprinkle my daily vocabulary with colorful words. He very quickly retracted, saying it’s okay to use swear words once in a while. But you just said… Whatever. We met at my favorite bar/restaurant in Westport. He was much skinnier than his pictures and I almost didn’t recognize him. He wanted to talk religion and politics right off the bat, which was a huge turn-off because it turned out we were polar opposites. Best part? He texted me later to tell me he was sorry for being weird and hoped I would agree to a second date. Why of course! I love hanging out with people with whom I have nothing in common! There was no second date.

Date #2 was Brannon. He’ll probably never see this. We had amazing conversation, we had a ton in common, and he walked me to my car at the end of the date. Bonus: we basically drive the same car. His is even a manual transmission. I’m in love instantly. We go on five dates. On the second date, I get a bit tipsy and we make out in a grassy lot for over an hour in the middle of the city. It was amazing. He took me on three more dates. We always split the bill, except the last date. Hold up. Did you just pay for me? HUGE step. Then he stops texting me. I text him a couple of times. He doesn’t respond. I can take a hint.

Date #3: the history teacher. Bless his heart. His parents named him after a famous motorcycle company. First and last. He was sweet. We met at the park across from my apartment complex. He was so nervous and I did most of the talking. He drove 40 miles to hang out with me. After it was too dark and the park was closing, I invited him over to talk and have a beer on my balcony. Somewhere around 12:30 am, I am incredibly tired and tell him I need to go to bed. I move to hug him and he plants one on my lips. It was soooo awkward. I smiled and told him to be safe on his drive home. I’m the asshole here because I can’t date a man named Harley Davidson. I didn’t respond to his texts.

#4. THE MOST AMAZING DATE EVER. Snoopy was in a band. He was soooo hot: Long, dark, wavy hair, blue eyes, tattoos, scruffy, confident… It was like I made a list of everything I would wanted and he showed up at my door. Except he drove a PT Cruiser… First date: Sporting KC game. We had a couple of beers and I got giggly and totally immersed in his stories. We went to Dave and Buster’s after and got matching kazoos and glitter bracelets. After that (at 1:00 am) we ended up at IHOP close to my place. We had a magical, angels singing, first kiss. We went out again later that week to a movie: This is the End. We both laughed so loudly that the people in front of us stared. It was great. Third date, I went to his place and we walked to a dive bar and had a couple of beers. When we got back to his place, he invited me in. I hesitated initially, but told myself it’s okay on the third date. We had weird, animalistic sex. It was okay, but I wouldn’t put it in my top ten. He told me he was going on a road trip and wasn’t sure when he’d be back. He texted me a few times after that. I texted him a few weeks later to see if he was back in town and wanted to get together, but I never heard back. Oh well. Time to set up some more dates.