Why Can’t This Be Easy Like Me?

il_fullxfull_48502602I knew entering the dating world this late wasn’t going to be easy. It’s not like it’s all new to me or I’m 60 years old – I’m still young. I think. I did ‘date’ a few unlucky bastards when I was the size of a small sea shanty. But those relationships were hardly healthy.

But now, I’m a couple hundred pounds smaller – but by no means a little wiser. I’ve kind of accepted the fact that I have no idea what hell I’m doing. But neither do any of the fools I’ve been lucky enough to go out with.

I’ve been trying to stick with my whole, a one date a week thing – but it’s been a painful process. I probably should write about the train wrecks when they’re finished. Not like I’m ever going to see them again, they haven’t been told about the blog and they don’t know they’re being tweeted about. But they’ve been so draining lately and I just haven’t had any desire to relive the magic over again.

Since it’s been awhile since I’ve written and bothered you, I figured I’d recap the mayhem and foolishness for the last 3 weeks,  give you all an opportunity to laugh at my life and if anything, at least you’ll know who stay away from or guys can find out how not to act on a date. So you got that going for you.

I knew the first one was an ass, when he said, ‘I like that you don’t eat much. I hate when girls eat like pigs.’ Evidently, my modified stomach is one of my major selling points. Hear that ladies – get gastric bypass if you want a man. If you don’t, you’re going to be stuck alone and living a life of weighing a ton and having no fun.

Date #1 was a drunk and that’s a lot coming from a girl who had questionable drinking habits. Oh like you’ve never drank an entire bottle of Parrot Bay. Homeboy knew I couldn’t drink and kept offering to buy me something to ‘loosen me up.’ I think Zack Morris said that to DJ Tanner before he raped her at that frat party in that NBC Monday Night Movie. Don’t act like you didn’t record all of them and re-watch at slumber parties.

The more he drank, the more bullshit came flying out of his mouth. Like how he would never vote HRCbecause she’s too old. Listen, you can have your own political beliefs and whatever. But my vagina dried up like the Sahara when he said that. Any chance of a tug or a suck slowly went the way of the dodo bird. You have no one to blame but yourself, mister. I stuck it out with this fool for the entire date. I think I was secretly hoping there was a cash prize at the end of the evening or someone from Hermes or Louis Vuitton would give me a bag of my own choice if I survived. Needless to say that never happened.

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What I did get was verbally abused. Not exactly how I wanted to end the evening, but hey – it makes life interesting and brings me back to my childhood.

“You’re a fucking tease, you whore!” I know, I don’t know how I didn’t jump in bed with him either. Damn dingy broads! I probably should tell you what brought on his anger?

When the night was finally over, he got in his booze soaked brain – that he had won me over and I was going to be more than willing to not only drive him home, but sleep with him. Listen, I know my standards aren’t that high and there’s been a few married men in my past or complete dick bags that have made it in my bed. But I’d like to think I could do better now. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong – but I think losing 300 lbs. could have helped my chances of getting someone better or I’m completely wrong and doomed.

I told Sir More Than Likely Rapes-A-Lot that he had no chance and ‘Good night.’

“Well, how am I supposed to get home!?”

I went into my wallet, grabbed 5 ones, handed them to him, pointed him in the direction of the closest bus stop and started walking to my car.

“You’re a fucking tease, you whore!”

A couple of days later, GUESS WHO CALLED? I don’t know why I answered the phone.

“I’m willing to look past your faults and give you another shot.”

You’re too kind, sir. I don’t know how I got so lucky! For all of you skeptics out there, if that’s not proof there is a higher power and they have a sense of humor? Then there’s no saving your ass. You’re all lost and may God have mercy on your souls.

Needless to say, I didn’t take him up on his offer. I probably should have – but I’d like to keep what little self-esteem I have intact.

The next week, I went out with a guy who’s getting over a bad breakup and has severe Mommy Issues. I didn’t know about them or why my friend neglected to tell me about them when she was setting me with Weepy Wally. But after a couple of glasses a wine later – his life story was out on the table and he started to get a little misty…at the table…in public….at the restaurant. I’ve only seen my Dad cry once and that’s when he put the dog down. So I don’t do well around men with emotions.

Case in point, I was dating someone years ago and we were fighting and he started crying. I hung up the phone and never spoke to him ever again. I know, I know. I’m a cunt. But you can’t pull that shit with me and expect me to respect you in the morning. Christ, be a man. It’s not that hard! I’m a crier – I can’t be in another relationship with a guy who cries.

Ever have snot-filled sex? It’s messy and I hate having to switch sheets. Don’t get me wrong, I do it. But that’s because I’m not a monster or a hoarder and I was raised right.

I was fixated on his nose for the rest of the date and called it a night early. I’m sure he’s going to make some girl lucky one day; he just needs to find a shrink and get over whatever Mother and Baby Firefly put him through. Until then, he’s damaged goods and I shan’t be associated with that nonsense. I’m damaged enough as it is, I don’t need to worry about being the cause of any repressed memories coming to the surface. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a girl.

The third round went surprisingly well. So well, that I slept with him. I know I shouldn’t have, but the kid(me) has needs and it seemed like the right thing to do. Wouldn’t be the first time I made a bonehead decision like that and I’m sure it won’t be the last. It just seemed right – it was too perfect.

He was just cool, we had a lot in common, had similar senses of humor, we made each other laugh and I had a smile on my face the whole time (shut up). There wasn’t anything awkward or any moments when I second guessed anything I said or did. I just let things happen and look it, I had fun. I needed it. Can’t the kid have fun occasionally? Does it really have to be a constant shit storm?

So yeah, that happened. I’ve been yelled at by numerous people regarding my extra-curricular activities that night – but it’s not like I’m hurting anyone. I’m smart, I’m safe and I don’t have AIDS or a baby….Thank Christ.

I didn’t think I was going to hear from him and when it was almost a week and no response, I chucked his contact info in the trash – but guess who called Thursday night? He asked me out and I said ‘yes’, but in my fucked up head – I should have said ‘no’.

Because the pressure is on now, can we recreate that moment in time once again? Of course not! It’ll NEVER happen. Watch, we’ll go out this time and there will be no chemistry whatsoever. It’s doomed from the beginning and I’m tempted to back out.

I have another week before I really need to make up my mind or he has a week to be a man, do the right thing and back out. Do me a favor and be the bad guy, please? It can’t be all on me. I don’t like being the asshole. I mean, I do it well – but be a man! Listen, let’s just agree the two of us just want sex again and leave it at that. Stop pretending you want to get to know me. I know that’s horse shit – I don’t even want to get to me and I know me! My brain is a scary place. I’m doomed.

Merry Christmas, kiddies!

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