Bwah! Where did the week go?!? Oh yeah, I was DATING. And another thing, as promised to a dear friend who insisted I confess … I’m smoking again. SHADDAP. I blame the emotional roller coaster that is this nonsense. Let’s try make this postmortem shorter. Because honestly, he wasn’t worth the mental energy I devoted to wetwilly.
A note on the 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: GUNS & AMMO
What He Advertised:
- Height 6′ 0″
- Body Type Fit
- Education Graduated from space camp (har har, very funny)
- Job Computer / Hardware / Software
- Income —
Meanwhile, in reality:
- Height- yep. 6’0. I was just barely shorter than him in heels. He was bald, which is FINE. But wasn’t terribly blown away upon first meet.
- Body Type – Fit – mmmmm…. I’d say more average.
- Job – claimed to be self-employed. Former pro motorcycle racer in the European circuit, turned techie, courted by Intel and DELL and IBM, but turned them down to work for himself as a consultant.
- Income – No idea, but drove a 300. Whatever that is. He was very proud of it.
- Hobbies – Amateur competitive shooter. (Handguns, sniper rifles)
Red Flags, aka Hindsight is a Bitch.
- Crazy past as a pro racer, till a wreck almost took his life. (Saw the scars to prove it.) But paired with shooting and fast cars… adrenaline junkie or overcompensating???
- I know I’m in the South now, but do you really need to pack a 9mm on dates? He always carried. Bragged about how expensive a hobby it was. Sent pics of his workshop where he makes his own ammo. Whoa.
- His dogs. 2 very large dogs he’s had for 8yrs and 11yrs. Referred to them as his “kids”. Fine with that. Not fine with the fact that he sleeps with them every night, under the covers. When asked what happens when he has company, he wouldn’t budge. They sleep in the bed too, under the covers. Girl or not. When asked if they leave the room during “extracurricular activities”, he said no, never. *envisions wet doggy noses where they do not belong* Yikes.
- He bitched over the phone the night before our first date about the ridiculousness of men always having to pay for dates, while women “don’t have to do anything but look nice”. We had a good debate about it, but I found that kinda silly. So imagine my skepticism when he forgot his wallet on our first date. Coincidence or not? You tell me.
- Geography – he lives across town from me. 1st date, we met in the middle. 2nddate, he wanted me to drive the distance to his area, in the middle of rush hour, to take me to a PHO restaurant. Lessee… 1+hrs of driving for a 5 buck bowl of noodles? No thanks. I called him, less than pleased, to ask that we meet halfway again.
How It Ended:
- He agreed to meet me halfway for our 2nd date, but proceeded to chastise me over dinner for having “an attitude about it” on the phone. I explained that it felt as if he wasn’t willing to make the effort to see me, only wanted to do what was convenient for him. It should be balanced. His response to that was “Don’t be so insecure.” EXCUSE ME???!!!! Nearly walked out on him at that point. Dinner was less than pleasant after that. I brought up the fact that he didn’t seem very interested in me or what I was about. Encouraged him to ask me some questions about anything he was curious to know. He bombed that one. So I didn’t tell him he had two huge pieces of black pepper stuck in his front teeth. Oops. Plus he left a four dollar tip on 28, the douche. I left ten dollars on 35 for our first date, plus paid for coffee afterward!
- For shits and giggles (or I’m just a glutton for punishment), I drove around with him afterward and he showed me his old neighborhood…including the park. Where we…parked. Ahem. The verdict: I was underwhelmed. When I’d reached the point that I felt it best to call it a night, he became an asshole. I didn’t react to his immaturity; just let it go until I was safely back in my car and headed home. But I was DONE.
- Neither of us reached out the next day. He called after 2 days. Twice. I didn’t answer. Twice. I called him the next day to end it. He didn’t answer. I didn’t leave a voicemail. The end. If he’s really dumb enough to think I’d see him again after that, he must have bumped his head in his wreck pretty fucking hard.
What I Learned:
WHY I WIN: