I took a break from dating for a while, and came to the conclusion that I don’t want to be the crazy dog lady who dies and no one knows and they don’t find her body until her dogs have already eaten half her face because she wasn’t alive to feed them anymore. I’m not being morbid. I have heard multiple stories of this happening, and I know someone told me they go for the face first for some odd reason. Not that I would feel better knowing they were gnawing on a different part of my dead body necessarily. I would prefer this horrible scenario didn’t occur at all. So, back to dating.

 

Guy 123 – Kevin – Bar K guy

I met Kevin online and we emailed back and forth for a couple weeks. He seemed like a nice guy, new to the area, my age, similar political beliefs. We decided to meet.

He asked me to pick a local bar, as he didn’t know the area well, but worked not far from where I live. I suggested one and he agreed. I was running a bit late that night, as per usual, and let him know I would be about 15-20 minutes late as I was taking a quick shower after walking my dogs before meeting him. He said, sure, no problem.

I took my shower, got dressed, put on makeup and walked over to the bar. It was a nice night and it’s only about 5 blocks from my house. I got there and Kevin was sitting at the bar with an empty seat next to him. I said hi and sat down. And caught the most horrific whiff of body odor. I thought, is that me? But no, I had just showered. It was Kevin. Basic hygiene, man. Don’t show up to a date smelling like a dirty sneaker. I decided, OK, there are worse things. I can deal with this. I would assume he wouldn’t do this again. I spent the night sitting as far away from him as possible on a small barstool.

He wasn’t a bad guy. I wouldn’t say we had a scintillating conversation, but it wasn’t awful. I think I made him nervous for some reason, which made things awkward. I had my usual one drink and switched to water. Kevin had many beers.

I said I thought it was time to go. Kevin knew I had walked over and said he would walk me home. I said that wasn’t necessary, I was OK to go by myself. He said it was no problem, he was going to call an Uber to go back to his place anyway and could do that from my house. I felt like there was no way I was winning this argument so finally agreed.

We started walking and it didn’t take me long to realize Kevin was really drunk. He was stumbling over curbs as he walked, and I was afraid he was going to wipe out a couple times. He was a nice guy, but he was a much bigger guy than me, and if he went down, I wasn’t going to dive and save him. Maybe if we could take the body odor out of the equation, but it was a solid factor in there, so if Kevin ate shit, he was going down alone.

We were about a block from my house when Kevin asked, what’s the Bar K? I looked at him completely befuddled and asked, Bar K? Then I looked where he was pointing, to the one story high sign saying BAKERY and told Kevin, that would be a bakery. He said, oh, yeah, I see that now.

We got to my house without any major events and he called the Uber. Thank god this guy wasn’t driving. I sat on my steps with him waiting. He said he had a nice time and asked if we could get together again. I hadn’t had a great time, but I hadn’t had an awful time. I said sure, but it would have to wait a couple weeks as I was going to my sister’s the next weekend. The uber came, and I never heard from Kevin again. Maybe he was embarrassed that he got that drunk. Maybe he wasn’t interested. Maybe I suck as a date. Whatever. I wasn’t smitten, and I have learned to follow the one piece of advice a guy gave me that I think is right, never chase a guy. If he is interested, he will come to you. It works.

 

Guy 124 – Alton – Functional alcoholic

I met Alton online and he seemed like a decent guy. Good job, cute, intelligent, nice guy. There had to be a catch, right? Of course there was, I just didn’t see it right away. We talked for a few days and then he suggested meeting. I figured why not, get it out of the way and if he wasn’t any good, move on to the next one. Less time wasted.

He lived a state away, so we each had a hefty commute to the other’s area. We agreed to meet in the middle (although slightly more toward his side) at a restaurant for drinks, appetizers, whatever. I, of course, was about 20 minutes late or so. I blame this on the fact that I let him choose a place closer to his area. And the fact that I am chronically late for everything and I have absolutely no idea how to fix this. Anyway, I texted him when I got there and he came out to meet me so I wouldn’t have to find him in the crowded restaurant. I thought this was a nice gesture. He looked like his picture, was definitely cute, someone I would consider dating. We went in and sat at the bar and I ordered a drink. He already had one as he had gotten there before me.

We started talking and seemed to get along really well. It was one of those first dates where you feel like you’ve already known the person for a while and things are actually fairly comfortable. After we had been talking for maybe 45 minutes, Alton said, do you mind if I go outside for a minute? I said, no, it was OK with me. He said, oh, yeah, I should tell you that I lied and I’m a smoker. I didn’t think anyone would date me if I told the truth and said I smoked. I briefly considered being bitchy about it, as I loathe lying more than anything, but I hadn’t even looked at smoking on his profile when I wrote to him, so I didn’t feel like it was something I could hold against him. The only thing I could recall from his profile, and the only reason I apparently wrote, hey, what’s up? (my standard pick up line), was that he had listed a book I recently read under his recent reads and I felt like it was a somewhat uncommon book and a karmic sign to say hi.

Alton came back from his smoke and we continued talking, still getting along well. I switched to water after my one drink as I had a fairly long drive home and am not great at tolerating alcohol since I don’t drink much. Alton probably had at least two or three more beers while we sat at the bar. We decided it was time to head out and he said he would walk me to my car as I had parked a couple blocks away. I thought this was another nice gesture on his part, so said, sure, that sounds good. As we left the bar he said, oh yeah, another thing I lied about, I’m 5’8”, not 5’10” like I wrote in my profile. I thought more women would be attracted to me if I said I was taller. Height was another one I couldn’t remember checking in his profile, and I am only 5’0”, so it’s not like I was towering over the guy. I decided to let it go, rather than take stock of the fact that the guy was already repeatedly lying to me on our first date.

We walked to my car and he kissed me. It was kinda nice, not really my kinda kissing, but it had been awhile so it was nice to feel wanted. He suggested we meet again, and I figured, why not? He said he would text me, so I decided to wait and see if he followed through. He did and we went out again.

Our second date went well. We went to a local arboretum with a large Christmas display. He had a beer there, and suggested we go to a bar close by afterwards to talk some more. He had three more beers at the bar, while I had iced tea. A couple different bartenders served us while we were there, and the first guy was the one to tally up the tab at the end of the night. Alton handed the guy $30 and the guy said, it can’t be more than $20, you only had one beer. Alton didn’t say anything to the bartender, but leaned over and whispered to me, actually I had 3. I was considering how I wanted to deal with this latest lie when the bartender came back and realized the other bartender had served him two more and charged him for 3 beers. He walked me to my car after and kissed me again, and suggested a third date. Should I have said no? Yeah, I totally should have. But after being single for a fairly long amount of time, I was blind to the big red flags.

We ended up dating and seeing each other every weekend. He worked somewhere else during the week, and had his younger son one weekend night, so we usually spent one weekend night together. His older son lived at college. It was probably around our fourth or fifth date that I started suspecting that he had a drinking problem. This felt way too familiar after Jeff, and I was getting the impression Alton’s problem was a lot more serious than Jeff’s had been.

He got me a ticket to a concert as a Christmas gift. I thought it was a fairly cool gift, although I wasn’t completely sold on the idea that he knew I liked the band. I realized later that it was a band he liked, I was just along for the ride. He told me before we went that the right way to see a concert was completely drunk. He wanted to drive down early and get totally wasted in the parking lot. Keep in mind, I am 43 and he is 46. We aren’t stupid kids. I said, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Someone has to stay sober to do the driving. He said, oh, you sober up during the show. I knew there was no way Alton would sober up and not drink during the show, and there was no way I would be able to sober up in a couple hours if I seriously drank enough to get drunk. I told him I would not be drinking, and he was really pissed at me. Like sulking pissed. I didn’t care beyond being annoyed that he was acting like a child, and I knew I wasn’t budging on this one. So I drove to the concert with Alton drinking Jack Daniels all the way there so he was completely trashed before we even walked in the door.

We walked in to the opening act already on the stage. The guy was awful and I was distracted anyway by Alton pretty much acting like an asshole. He was talking nonstop (which I have been told I do when I am drunk) and kept leaning over to ruffle my hair like a little kid. I have fairly long hair which just becomes one big tangle when someone does that, and I didn’t find this amusing at all. After about 15 minutes of this, Alton asked, am I being annoying?

I think I have already explained that I hate lying and brutal honesty is usually my thing. I gave it about two seconds of thought before I said, yes, you are being annoying. He looked like I had punched him in the stomach. He really thought I was just going to let it go and suck up his obnoxious behavior all night. Sorry, buddy, wrong date. I’m not that person. He started in with, I’m just having fun, you don’t know how to relax and enjoy yourself, on and on and on. I told him, it’s not about having fun when you have to be drunk all the time to be happy and have fun. There is a problem there. He replied, I like to drink, everyone else loves me when I’m drunk. You’re the only one who likes me sober. I told him, I don’t think you like yourself sober and need to figure out why, and I don’t think this is the time or place for this discussion. By this point the opening act had finished, and everyone in our section had gone completely silent to listen to our argument. Alton refused to let it go. I told him at least six or seven more times that I didn’t want to discuss it there and then, it wasn’t appropriate, but he just wouldn’t drop it. At least not until he realized the headliners would be coming on soon and he needed to go smoke and get a beer before they started. I was actually relieved he left for his vices at that point.

He didn’t bring it up during the rest of the show, and calmed down a bit. He at least talked less during the headlining band and stopped messing with my hair. I had a feeling we weren’t finished with the conversation, but really didn’t want to continue it until he was sober, which only happened when we first got together, as every time I saw him, we had to go somewhere that he could drink and he was pretty buzzed, if not completely drunk, by the end of the night.

We got back to my house and the drinking discussion came up. I told him I wasn’t trying to be a bitch, I was concerned about the amount he drank, that it was to the point where I was fairly sure there had to be health effects, and that he had a problem. He told me, I’m not an alcoholic. I have a good job, I support my family. Alcoholics are the guys searching the house for rubbing alcohol to drink. I assured him that was not the definition of an alcoholic and asked if he had discussed his drinking with a medical professional. He said he didn’t need to as he felt fine and when his doctor asked about his drinking (I think the doctor suspected a problem), Alton would downplay how much he actually drank. I asked when was the last time he was sober, and he told me, two years ago when I had the flu. Internally, I screamed, what the fuck??? To Alton, I replied, yeah, I think that’s a problem. He assured me that if he was an alcoholic, he was a functional alcoholic. In addition, he hadn’t known me that long, and there was no way he was going to change and stop drinking for me. I knew then I had to get out of this one.

Unfortunately, getting out of relationships once I am in them is my kryptonite. Alton would text me every night during the week while he was away for work, telling me how much he missed me, that he loved me, on and on and on. What I realized after the fact was, he was texting me when he got to the bar and I was his company until he felt drunk enough to go back to his hotel room. When we went on dates, I started counting his drinks and made sure I was always the one driving. I usually drove anyway because his car was disgusting. His apartment was clean and neat, with a refrigerator fully stocked with nothing but beer, but his car was so dirty I hated sitting in it. Pizza boxes, coffee cups, receipts on the floor. It was like a 16 year old kid was driving it. Another red flag I ignored. Also, when I drove, he wouldn’t let me listen to the music I liked, telling me it was “vagina” music. What the hell?

Things went on this way for another month or so while I tried to figure out how to escape my latest mess. I think the worst was the night I was at his place and he insisted we go to the bar, even though I had a bad outbreak of stress hives and told him I needed to get Benadryl because I had already scratched my shoulder until it was bleeding. I did not feel like going out at all. Alton didn’t care. Said we should just go out for a little bit, it would make me feel better.

I drove to the bar, stopping for Benadryl on the way. We got the bar, and they didn’t even have iced tea, so I was stuck with water for the night. Alton had a margarita and three beers before he decided it was OK for us to head back to his place.

By this point, I was sleepy from the Benadryl. We got back to his place and Alton immediately opened up another beer. He had been drinking one when I got to his place, had four drinks at the bar, and now was on at least number 6, probably more because I doubt the one I saw him with when I arrived was his first. I sat on the sofa and watched him go through two more beers, as he got more and more condescending, telling me the way I worked was all wrong. That I was working long hours and killing myself and no one would ever respect me for it. They would respect me if I delegated my work to someone else. This was drink #9 (that I saw) by now, and I had had enough. I am good at my job, he was being a condescending prick, I felt crummy and sleepy, all I wanted was to go to bed. I flipped my shit and told him, don’t you ever dare to presume you know anything about the way I work. I am extremely good at my job, highly respected, and well paid (I made more than him and he knew it). He said that wasn’t what he was doing, he was trying to be helpful, blah, blah, blah. I told him I was tired and I was going to bed. What I really wanted to do was go home, but it was over an hour drive and I couldn’t keep my eyes open thanks to the Benadryl. He replied, well, I’m going to stay up and have another drink, even though I know you don’t think I should. I just walked away and went to bed. Fucking asshole.

I can’t even say the sex was good, which I could at least say with Jeff. We never had sex at night, most likely because Alton couldn’t get it up then thanks to being so wasted every night. We only had sex in the morning when he woke up hard, or if I saw him in the afternoon and we had sex before we went out. He was another guy who didn’t get my humor, naturally. Sex was never something simple, he was hard, then he wasn’t, he was hard again, so when we were at his place and things weren’t going great he said, I know what we need and walked into the bathroom. I assumed he would come back with lube. He came back and handed me a tube of Aquaphor. I looked at it for a couple seconds and then started laughing uncontrollably. It took about five minutes before I could stop laughing long enough to say, if the sex thing doesn’t work out, maybe we can work on our chapped lips. He didn’t find it amusing at all, and sex wasn’t happening after that. This was another red flag I missed – he was really cheap. Too cheap to even buy some fucking lube. Come on, dude. Seriously???

I was increasingly miserable with him and still trying to figure out how to end it. I came to the conclusion I needed to do what I had done with Jeff, have him end it with me. I started being very distant with him, not talking much when we were together, and not telling him much about what was going on in my life, aside from maybe the really bad stuff. It took about three weeks before asshole texted me (yes, fucking texted to break up with me – if I had thought texting was an acceptable way to end a four month relationship, I could have broken up with him) and said, I think we should take a break. While I jumped up and down for joy, I texted back, OK. I think he had expected an argument as he then tried to justify it with, you’ve been really stressed lately, you have a lot going on, etc. I said, sure, no problem. I just wanted out. He said, I have your book and you have my coffee mug. I said, I don’t think they are irreplaceable items that either one of us can’t live without. I was done.

He texted me a few times after that, asking how I was doing, generic stuff. I think he regretted breaking up with me to some extent. I put up with a lot of bullshit from him. I don’t do repeats though, except of course, 007.

 

Guy 125 – Brian – Running Man

I met Brian once for dinner. He was a really nice guy, very into running marathons, so not my thing. We got along well, but I can’t really say I was attracted. We texted back and forth a few times after with vague suggestions of meeting again, but nothing came of it. I think it was a fairly mutual lack of interest there.

 

Guy 126 – Francis – Local Dad

Francis lived not far from me, so it seemed like a good idea to meet up and see if we hit it off. He was a nice guy, not bad looking, and we got along well over dinner. I knew he wasn’t the love of my life, but he was a decent guy and I thought it would be OK to see him again and see what happened.

We texted back and forth for the next few days until Friday night. He asked what I was doing and if I wanted to come over his house and hang out. I asked if that was really appropriate for a second date. He said it wasn’t if I didn’t think it was, which made me feel like a prude, so I said OK, I would come over.

I got to his house and he gave me a tour, pointing out how much everything cost. I felt like saying, I get it, you bought expensive shit. Yay on you! We finally sat in his living room and watched the baseball game. This was fine with me, I am a big baseball fan.

The game ended and we talked for a while and then started making out. He asked if I wanted to go to his bedroom and “fool around” and I declined. I decided it was time to go home. He said he would text me about getting together again. Bullshit. I said no to sex, which was apparently saying no to a third date. Probably better to know now that he’s a douche. No more Francis.

 

Guy 127 – Marcelo – Bi guy

I met Marcelo online and we did the usual texting back and forth. He was amusing, his picture was cute, I figured why not give it a shot? He told me during our initial text conversations that he had done some “naughty things” with men in the past and asked if I had a problem with that. I figured, who am I to judge? I’m no saint. I had a kid at 19, some people would hold that against me. Why should I care if he was bi? I said no, I was OK with it, and he seemed happy with that. We agreed to meet for a drink.

He picked me up at my house because I was having car problems. I can’t say he really looked that much like his pictures, which kind of irritated me upfront. He wasn’t unattractive, just not nearly as good looking as he had been in his pictures online. He said he had a hard time finding my house because there were no numbers on it. I assured him there were, and he insisted there were not. I took him back out to the porch to show him the address numbers clearly displayed on the pillar, under a light. He finally agreed, OK, there were numbers.

We went to a local restaurant for a drink, but the place was packed as it was Friday night. He suggested another place, which I knew to be popular with a much older crowd. Figuring we could at least get a seat there, I agreed. We were pretty much the youngest people in the place.

Things seemed OK at first, the usual what do you do kind of conversation. Then he started quizzing me like I was on Jeopardy. Do red blood cells have DNA in them? I have a biology degree. But I got it over 20 years ago, and it’s not really related to what I do now for a living. I have no fucking clue if red blood cells have DNA in them. I said yes and got a lecture on why they don’t. Whatever. I get it, you’re smarter than me, congratulations, dude. I’ve dealt with guys like you before. It wasn’t quite at the insufferable level, but I could see how it could get there.

We got in his car to go back to my house and he asked, if you could be a ghost, a vampire or a werewolf, which would you choose? I thought for a few seconds and answered, a ghost. He immediately replied, well that’s the wrong answer. I was like, wait, there’s a right fucking answer to this question? He said the right answer was werewolf because they are human at least part of the time. I said no way would I want to be a werewolf because I would be shaving constantly and I hate shaving. And I couldn’t do the vampire thing because drinking blood would skeeve me out. He said choosing ghost meant I was an introvert. I said, so fucking what? I am an introvert. What’s wrong with that?

Then he asked, if you could choose between teleportation, flying or being invisible, which would you choose? I said I would go with being invisible. Wrong fucking answer again. The right answer was teleportation because it was basically flying and being invisible together. I said, no, because you aren’t in the room anymore. I want to be invisible, and be in the room, and hear what people say about me. He said, choosing invisible means you’re an introvert. I said, yeah, and? I think we’ve already established that with the ghost thing.

You would think that would be the end of the questions, but he also asked, what’s your favorite lunchmeat? I answered, cheese. This greatly irritated him. Cheese isn’t lunchmeat, he said. I replied, I know that, but I’m really not a big lunchmeat fan. If I eat a sandwich, it’s most likely going to be cheese. He said, OK, but I asked your favorite lunchmeat. I could see him getting more annoyed. I said, yeah, I’m sticking with cheese. I guess he doesn’t like cheese?

We got back to my house and kissed a bit and he started asking about sex. I told him no, I was not into anal, and oral really wasn’t my thing. He said, I’ve probably had more dicks in my mouth than you have, and I replied, that’s probably true. He wanted me to have sex with him and I went back to my, if I have sex with you now, it’s a random fuck, or you can see me again and actually date me. He said he wanted to date me and would text me about getting together again. Bullshit. I declined sex, he declined a second date. I am detecting a pattern here. I am annoyed that this is how dating apparently works now, but at the same time, I really didn’t want to spend another night with fucking know it all jeopardy question guy. I can deal with the bi thing. What I can’t deal with is the arrogant smug I’m-smarter-than-you attitude that he wore like a second skin. Not my thing at all. Be a dick, I can deal with that. Look at 007. Dude can be a total prick. I still like him. Smug know it all though, not happening.

I have to confess, I told some friends at work about the questions, and they loved them. The questions made rounds at my work and everyone was analyzing each other. They asked were there more questions? Did they come from a book? Were they on a website or something? They agreed he was an asshole, but I think they were disappointed I didn’t have more questions for them.

 

And 007, Back AGAIN

I know I swore I was done with him, but it had been 9 months since I last heard from him. Nine long months in which my dating life was incredibly sad and depressing (along with issues with my job, my son, newly graduated from college, and my always dysfunctional family). So when 007 turned up again, I let the email languish in my trash folder for a few days while I debated what to do. I honestly had set a filter that sent his emails to the trash folder. Part of me always expected to come across one there someday though. It had been in the trash for a few days before I found it, so by the time I broke down and answered it (come on, you knew I was going to), it was about a week old. I’d like to say I debated with myself much harder than I did over answering it, but I can’t lie. I knew I would answer it. It was just a question of when and how. Would I be nice, would I be bitchy, would I just be vague? What to do, what to do???

I wasn’t expecting some amazing turnaround. I mean, yeah, it would be nice if he had one, but it’s not something I think he will ever do. That’s my main reason for not doing repeats. People break up for a reason, usually because of something they can’t stand anymore in the other person. Like he’s a dick. Or she’s a bitch. I know that’s simplifying it, but you get the idea.

Everyone has their standards and the point where they draw a line in the sand and say that’s it, I’m done. Sadly sometimes that takes 10 drinks and a condescending lecture and you go to bed alone in another state, or you sit through countless lectures that make you feel like an unfeeling jerkoff, incapable of human emotions, which you just don’t feel for the person lecturing you, or it takes a guy hitting you to realize you should not be with THAT GUY WHO IS HITTING YOU. The warning signs aren’t in caps from the front. It’s only in hindsight they are so big and obvious and you want to bang your head against a wall for missing them again (assuming the asshole hasn’t just banged your head against the wall for you). Anyway, my feeling is, people rarely change. I’d bet Alton is still drinking like a fish and telling himself it’s perfectly normal, and Jeff is with some girl who has to tell him constantly how much she loves him, cat rescue guy is still picking up stray cats and slut shaming women who won’t sleep with him, bi guy is questioning and analyzing another woman to prove he is more intelligent than she is, and crying guy is still falling apart every time he cums.

For some reason, I erase this line for 007 though. WHY??? I ask myself this all the time. What is it about this guy? He’s not the best looking guy I’ve dated (I do think he’s attractive, that has to be there), not the most intelligent (I will admit he’s up toward the top on the intelligence scale), not the nicest (like we haven’t established that dozens of times already), and has the absolute worst follow through of anyone I’ve ever met.

Maybe it comes back to the one useful piece of guy advice – if they want you, they will come to you. No matter how many times I tell him to go away (or fuck off, or crawl back into whatever hole he crawled out of, or whatever horrible thing I say to make him go away because I just can’t take him anymore without eroding my last shred of self respect), he always comes back. I’m not saying it ever works out. It’s been six years of basically NOT dating. Will he ever truly get his shit together? Doubtful. Will I ever be sane enough for someone to be able to stand me long term? Also doubtful. I’m no picnic. I know that. Unless it’s a picnic where it rains the whole time, and ants invade your blanket, and you’re missing half the food, and just waiting for lightning to hit you. That’s my kind of picnic. Of course, the same guy friend who gave me that indispensable advice once told me that what I liked about 007 was the drama and the fact that no one else gets it. That makes it appeal to me. Is he right? Am I that fucked in the head?

Maybe it goes nowhere and I wallow in self pity for a few weeks, or a few months, before finding #128 and trying again. I always do. But I think 007 would still be back in six months or so. And so far, he’s still the one that feels right, whatever that means in my fucked up head.