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Postmortem #1

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A note on these Postmortem entries: I will only post about men that I am no longer seeing.  Current eligible bachelors are not fodder for blasting…yet.

And We Shall Call Him:   Wetwilly

What He Advertised:

  • Height    6′ 4″
  • Body Type    Athletic
  • Smokes    No
  • Drinks    Socially
  • Drugs    Never
  • Sign    Pisces and it’s fun to think about
  • Education    Graduated from college/university
  • Job    Medicine / Health
  • Income    Rather not say

Meanwhile, in reality:

  • Height- yeah he was 6’4. That’s about the only thing he had going for him. After he had bragged on the phone that his pics “don’t do him justice”, I was underwhelmed with the reality.  He was just…meh.
  • Body Type – Athletic? Well…. he had damn good arms. But he was actually quite tubby in middle/ass area.
  • Smokes – he didn’t smoke. But he had a big problem that I puffed on a few a day (was trying to quit, now successfully have!).  The optimist in me thinks this was the reason he called it off.  The realist in me thinks he’s just a lying sonofabitch douchebag… keep reading.
  • Drinks – He had at least 4 beers on multiple dates.  Raised my eyebrows a bit at that, but on none of those occasions was he driving me.
  • Job – claimed to have a great job in medical field. Only his word to go on, no evidence.
  • Income – he claimed to have paid cash for his car and his 6br house. Again, no proof, never saw Wetwilly’s house.

Red Flags, aka Hindsight is a Bitch.

  • Serious baggage. Like, SERIOUS. Should have ended it when I found out via email, pre-meet.  His business, no one else’s. But it was a lot to deal with.
  • Extremely pushy and physically forward even prior to in-person meet. Claimed to want to be “my last first date”.  Was all about finding “the one”, ready to settle down, etc.  These are all very sweet sentiments, but way too much, way too soon.
  • 2nd date revealed his propensity for shoving his TONGUE IN MY EAR (hence the name). And the date ended with a psuedo-argument. He launched into a monologue about how being a “good guy” sucked, because he had to pay the price for all the other assholes out there.  That it took forever for women to trust guys, and it’s a “problem that he deals with”.  We had words over that.  A man being patient and allowing a relationship to develop a basic and necessary level of trust is NOT a problem to be dealt with. Should have ended it then, for damn sure.
  • Moved very quickly from public outings to nights in at my place, aka groping sessions. Why did I never see his house? Meet any of his friends? He’s hiding something. Or only after one thing.
  • Mysterious emergency trip to help his family with dad supposedly dying of prostate cancer.  Not saying the trip was a red flag – family comes first and I get that.  But the problem is that I have no idea if the illness story was actually true.   If it was true, I wish his family the best and hope the treatments help his dad. If it isn’t true, Wetwilly has demonstrated an all-time new low of scumbag men.  And when he showed up at my house unannounced 3 days prior to when he said he’d be home, to “surprise me”… I didn’t know what to think.  Sweet or creepy? I chose sweet at the time… it seemed like such an amazingly awesome gesture… and I chose to let him into my bed.  This was a Thursday.
  • He didn’t call on Friday, Saturday or Sunday.

How It Ended:

See last red flag.  After 72 hrs of radio silence, on Monday Wetwilly ended it with the following TEXT MESSAGES:

“Hey. Hope you are well. This is just not working out and i dont think we should continue to see each other. Wish you well. No need to respond.  Just wanted you to know.

No need to respond?!?  Oh, you can fuck RIGHT OFF, you fucking coward.

I replied:

“Given the events of Thursday, I deserve an explanation.”

His response:

“This is not a good situation. All that needs to be said. You are not a good fit for me. I am sorry I was wrong and apologize. take care.”

Yep, that one hurt.  I had trusted him, believed everything he said…even when I knew it was all way too good to be true.  Everything was choreographed perfectly by him.  The sweet emails, funny phone calls, sexy texting, getting me to sympathize over his dad, coercing me into allowing him into my home and finally the timing of the big “surprise” gesture that allowed him into my bed.  I’m a fool.  He’s an asshole.

What I Learned:

Considering this was my first dating experience after joining my first online dating site, did I screw this up? Royally.  How? I didn’t trust my own instincts, which were screaming “SOMETHING IS OFF ABOUT HIM!!!”.   I allowed the dating to progress from public meets to in-home meets way too quickly.  Going forward, I must remember to keep my eyes open and be a lot more careful.  Oh yeah, and to make them work harder for it. 😉


For all he knows, I kept the picture he sent me of his wiener. Don’t fuck with 50peach.

One response »

  1. Pingback: No, I’m fine. I can crawl up the stairs. « Fifty Shades of Peach

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