I feel like I’ve been teasing about my epic stumblings into dating for awhile. So I’ve finally decided to tell it because 1) I have a bit of writers block but I still have the urge to write, and 2) It might be entertaining to someone.
I am sick of writing about Mr. Freaky. He doesn’t deserve any attention in the least. But if I’m going to write about how and when I tried dating again, he’s the start of it. For those of you who are just catching up, you can read about him in more detail here.
Here it goes:
I actually had no intention of trying to date again when I contacted him via a temporary and secret Facebook account. I was just hoping to reconnect with an old flirty acquaintance and see where it would go from there. He’s the one that declared he wanted to have sex with me from the beginning. Without having seen me in about 12 years. I should have known. This played out from the end of April to the beginning of June this year.
Over that time span, he was dating lots of women casually while we texted off and on, which almost always ended in sexting or phone sex. He declared that he wanted to date me exclusively after his month long trip to South America in the end of June. His reasons were that he would probably be ready to be exclusive by then. This took me by surprise because I never indicated that I wanted to be exclusive with him, especially since we had yet to meet in person after all this time. But I went with it. My ego was stroked and I enjoyed our interactions, so I figured, why not.
As time passed though, I figured that it was ridiculous for me to wait so long to date someone who I wasn’t even sure I actually wanted to date. So I asked him for one date. That was it. To give me a chance to see if it was worth the time and effort to pursue. The first time I requested one, he fed me some bullshit about how he was afraid it would mess things up because he’s not in that mindset yet and he was trying not to be an asshole to me. I accepted it, but then after awhile of him constantly cutting our texts short to go on yet another date, I decided one date was not going to make or break whatever it was we were doing. So I called his bullshit and said as much. He conceded, but seemed very hesitant, stating that he was very busy and tired and stressed about planning his upcoming trip. (That didn’t stop him from continuing to go on dates with other women though. Busy, my ass)
So we made it for a Tuesday. Which he rescheduled because of a work function, and then rescheduled our date again because he had doubled booked and had another date the day we were supposed to meet. (I know, I know, I should have dropped him then. But I’m a stubborn and curious motherfucker. It gets me into trouble) So our date was on a Wednesday evening. He lives about an hour away near the beach and since I was on vacation and he was working, I volunteered to drive out to him. (I’m waaay too accommodating) Even though he had been a little more distant on the phone when we talked, he had said he was excited to see me and even turned on at the idea of it (honestly, everything turned him on, it wasn’t anything special). I was excited to see him and also because this was my first “official” date after being married for 13 years. So it was a big deal. I got all dressed up. (See picture)
Note: I am really not in the habit of taking so many selfies. I really don’t like the mirror shot ones especially. I kinda cringe with those, but I had promised my friends I would send them a picture of how I looked and then I didn’t want to delete it because I wanted proof of how much effort I had put into getting ready for this date. I told you, I’m obsessed with proof.
So I get there and he comes out in a t-shirt, jeans, and flip flops. And instead of complimenting me, he sarcastically says that he feels he should go back and change into his work clothes. But of course, he does nothing of the sort. I am a forgiving saint, but his comment made me feel like I had overdressed somehow and he seemed perturbed by this. This set the tone for the rest of the evening.
We walked to the downtown area which wasn’t too far from where he lives so that was fine. Except that he kept walking ahead of me and even though I gently told him to slow down, he would for a bit, and then continued walking at his own faster pace. Plus, the whole time we walked, he complained about work and talked about himself all as I’m trying to keep my balance while walking downhill in heels a couple of steps behind him.
We get to the restaurant and being that I’m a therapist and can read people fairly well, I sense a condescending vibe from him. He asks me questions but the tone and way they are stated feels more like an interview than an actual conversation. He would let me answer half way and then change the subject, almost as if my answers bored him. And he also kept getting distracted by the TV behind me when I did talk. I will not go into too much detail about what we talked about because I don’t remember much of it besides him criticizing how I take care of my dog and being surprised that I don’t particularly like camping. (Which is bullshit because he had known that in college already)
After we are done eating, he doesn’t want to linger and talk more so he pays the check and then suggests we get going. As we walk back, he mentions a bar and being that I don’t drink, I said we could go but I wouldn’t be drinking. He said he would rather not drink alone so we continued on to my truck. Walking back, he mentioned leaving his watch as another woman’s place who he had gone on several dates with but then had told her that they were not a good match for dating. (of course he had sex with her before coming to that conclusion) This sparked my interest since I always wondered what it was like in the mind of a man whore. So I asked him about his dating life and he was more than willing to tell me about his friends with benefits and various hook ups and relationships.
But then he asked me about the other guy I was seeing. I balked, since I wasn’t dating anyone and asked him what he meant. He said “the guy you wrote about, the one that’s perfect for you.” There was a sarcastic edge in his tone. He meant Mr. Perfect/Mr. Right, who has a girlfriend and I was not seeing, (he’s actually my good friend now) which I explained to him. I had no idea that he had read that post. I internally scanned it to remember what I wrote about both of them. I guess he didn’t like how I had portrayed him (although it was true) and he mentioned something like some of it was right but other parts I would see weren’t with time. He quickly changed the subject when I tried to explain and process what he had read and thought about it.
We got to my truck and we kissed several times. That was the best part of the date. As I drove away, I couldn’t shake this feeling like he had been annoyed by my presence except for the kiss. So I texted him this: (my responses are the one’s in blue on the right)
So what I got from that is I’m a good kisser.