I grew up being labelled boy crazy, because, well I was. I loved falling in love. Puppy love, crushes, first loves and then finding my husband love. I never expected to ever have to look again for romance.
After Dollar Town Dave and Happy Jack Jerk-Off, I considered taking time off. So I sat online one night, deleting most of my pics. I wanted to hide my profile for a while and just coast. Besides, when you’re online dating, there are regulars. Men who repeatedly show up on your match list. I had been stalking the site, and new the usernames by heart.
Then he just popped up. A new face. A cute face. Hmmm.
Maybe I will declare him the last chance. If I email him and it goes no where, then I am offline. For good.
I had already told my ex about date one and two. He was empathetic that I hadn’t scored, but he was also having a good laugh, and telling me to write it all down. See we got this.
New Guy was so cute. Too cute, like cut a face out of a frame pic cute. I emailed him anyways.
We hit it off right away. I was overly cautious and told him about my worries, as a mom, as a Dollar Town Dave survivor and he was cautious as well. So we chatted a bit, and eventually he sent more pics, a name and a link to his companies website. This in my opinion is better than chocolates and flowers. When a guy will prove his identity and it checks out, a girl can relax. A little.
Days turned into weeks of chatting. We shared a very similar separation story. He understood that I lived with my ex, as he had as well. So that was comforting.
He lived an hour or so away from me which forced us to take time getting to know each other before we could see each other in person. This also created quite a buzz of excitement and anticipation. He was adorable. He had a real career, kids he adored, and was very funny. He would send funny jokes, cute pics of himself and always had a smile.
I was falling for the idea of him.
We arranged a meeting time. I would travel to the town next to his and stay at a friends. He could meet me for coffee in a well lit cafe. Always my go to.
To say it felt like high school is an understatement. We had spoken on the phone several times, had inside jokes at this point, and shared some deep stories. Of course we had flirted like mad as well. But all above the waist.
I tried ten outfits on, consulted with the three best friends who new my story and hopped in my car for a road trip. I tried to relax and enjoy the new found me. A woman who dates. A mom who was sneaking away to meet someone else. Oh God the guilt was kicking in. Who do I think I am? If the moms at school saw me I would wear a scarlet letter. Breathe.
My ex new exactly where I was going. And my best friend on earth was waiting at the other end. I was O.K to follow a new path.
When he walked in the cafe my heart soared. He was hotter than hot. He smiled and saw me. We both stumbled our words and tried to be cool, but it wasn’t happening which oddly relaxed us more. We were both human. We both affirmed the attraction and satisfaction with each other matching our profile pics.
As we chatted, I noticed that he was talking a lot. About him. Probably just nervous.
Nope, it was going on for a long time. Even as I injected some of my own stories, he seemed not interested. Hmm was I just being sensitive? Maybe.
Then he announced that he was a smoker (trying to quit) and had to go outside.
Oh, um, o.k. I can cope with that. I’m not a smoker, and I don’t remember him saying he was, maybe he was a smoke when I drink guy.
Fucking Hell. We walked three blocks. He had four cigarettes. Mmmm, I thought. I had actually taken the time to drink fruity tea, in case we kissed. I had gum, and mints and I would never smoke four cigarettes on a first date.
But. I would chalk this up to nerves. I would excuse my repulsion and not judge, I mean he had a real job, and was hotter than hot. I could let it go.
I said, hoping to get out of the literal fog, why don’t we grab a drink, inside, where smoking is against the law.
This is where things get weirder.
He peered in all the windows of each restaurant, pub or cafe and deemed whether it looked like a romantic place or not. He didn’t want it to be romantic, cause this isn’t a date. It’s an ice breaker he said.
Oh. Pardonay moi Mr. Smokey Butts.
So. When, seven abodes later, we found a neutral feelings bar, and entered. I thought maybe he will chill a bit.
We had a beer, he seemed better. It was nine o’clock. We had hung out for about an hour and a half. He drank half his beer, and called it a night. Literally out loud.
I drove two hours, didn’t smoke, looked fantastic and he was calling it a night. I had to ask why.
He explained in detail that this was just a meeting. We would go on a real date after this.
I thought,well, fine, weird, but fine.
We walked over to his car. I had walked ten or so blocks from my friends. He didn’t offer me a ride.
He said “So you’re good to walk?” It was dark, in a big city. He hadn’t asked me a single question all night. I was getting a ride home.
“If you don’t mind, I would LOVE a ride.”
We pulled up to my friends house and I said “You know, I really respect your whole, this isn’t a date and let’s end it early, but I wish you would just say you aren’t feeling it and want to run away.”
He looked confused. He honestly had a rule of ice breaking meeting then date. No kiss goodbye. Nothing. I felt like a frat boy.
I walked in the door and my friend said, “Sorry, must have been shitty, you haven’t been gone long.”
I said, I have no idea what that was.
I called it a night and went to bed. He texted me an hour later.
“Whatchya doin?” it said.
Me (in my mind) – oh nothing just hooked up to a ventilator to de-smoke my lungs.
He: I had a great time, I can’t wait to see you again, for our real date.
Me (are you fucking kidding me) Yeah
He: I’m so horny
Me ( I’m the opposite) Really? Cause you were like spending time with the Amish tonight.
He: Don’t be mad, Lol, I just have my ways. The next time I see you I am going to kiss your face off.
Me (I’ll have a gas mask on) Ha ha.
He (oblivious to my one word answers, and cosmic level of confusion) I’m touching myself.
At this point I may as well not be in the conversation. He has a great time with himself, not even bothering to see if I would like to join in ( I would not) I think he fell asleep
This only adds fuel to my writing fire. Because you can’t excuse this type of behavior. You can mock it amongst your friends. But you can’t find your way back to thinking he is adorable in any way.
The next morning, I call him on his shitty bedside manner. And then delete. Next