Dear John - Goodbye

In my last post, I wrote a little about John, seen below: 

He looks like a nice, normal guy, right?

Friends, John is a psycho. Since our first date, he has proven to be a clingy, attention-seeking individual with low self-esteem. I'm all for helping people, but I'm not looking for a charity case for a boyfriend.

John and I made plans that last Saturday we would go to a baseball game together. John let me know that he couldn't make it Saturday because he was called away for work at a stadium. We planned to see a game last Sunday instead. I didn't hear from John and sent him a text. The following was said:

Notice the weekend radio silence about him being in the hospital. "I am at the hospital." Now, I have no idea whether he's in the hospital, or someone else is in the hospital, or who the hell is in the hospital and for what. Clearly, he would have been able to give me some kind of detail if he was able to squeak out "I am at the hospital." I didn't appreciate the radio silence the rest of the weekend. To me, it screamed that he wanted attention. It turned out I was right. Read on: 

In between the Monday and Tuesday texts, there was one phone call where he told me about what really happened. John wasn't in the hospital at all (shocker). One of the workers he was with fell from a high altitude and John had to exert heroic rescue efforts to save him (shocker). Another call for attention. My friend "Kristy" told me about a wine tasting event in town that sounded like a lot of fun. I wanted check it out, so I wanted to see if John would want to do that instead. Look at his response: 

First of all, what the f* is an "alcoholy"? And he doesn't have good grammar. Anyone who is a native English speaker who doesn't know the difference between their, there, and they're  (or you're and your) is an idiot. His joke about calling me an "alcoholy" rubbed me the wrong way, but whatever. We agreed to meet at 6:45, since the event started at 7 and the invitation said to arrive early. 

John was late, but I gave him a break for that one. I was on the phone with another friend on my way there which was why I didn't text John back. Regardless, his ass should have been on time. He didn't arrive until 10 past 7. My friend Kristy was there too. 

When John entered, I was impressed by his outfit. He had a nice, pressed dress shirt on. He had nice shoes. He had nice jeans. He looked clean-cut. He sat next to me, and then he put his phone in my purse. WTF!? Red flag. 

For those who don't know, a woman's purse is sacred. Not just anyone can go into a woman's purse. A woman's purse is the extension of her home - her essentials are in there. For anyone else to invade that space is the equivalent of an invasion of privacy. 

The wine tasting event turned out to be a total bust. Instead of a true wine tasting, it turned out to be a pitch for a pyramid scheme! During the pitch, I looked around the room to see what was going through the minds of other people. Surely there still aren't idiots in the world that fall for these pyramid schemes? 

One of the people must have been in sync with me because they asked one of the sellers, flat out, if this was a pyramid scheme. 

"No no no! We are not a pyramid scheme. All you need to do is recruit two people, and then those two people each need to recruit two more people, and so on down the chain." 

As he said this, he illustrated the formation with two fingers... forming a pyramid. 

Despite the bull sh*t event, we didn't want to be rude. Kristy and I came up with a plan to leave, one at a time, discreetly. I told John the plan. John said, "But my phone is in your purse." I handed it back to him, thinking at this point he was a total dumbass for putting his phone in there in the first place. The three of us left, one at a time, in a discreet manner. I formally introduced John and Kristy to each other. John seemed very cordial and friendly. 

We then left to a nearby restaurant and sat in the bar area for some drinks and appetizers. At first, John was very chatty with me and Kristy. His demeanor started to change. He wasn't joining in the conversation, and he was making a lot of back-handed remarks towards both Kristy and me. 

Now, you might be thinking, "Well she was the third wheel. So he was probably irritated." Is that really an excuse for being rude to someone? A gentleman should always be a gentleman. 

John also revealed that he had been engaged before. Kristy and I gave our condolences for the death of the engagement. I asked John how long ago it ended, and what the reason was for the engagement ending.

"It was a year ago, and I can't talk about it. It's too painful."

Too painful? Baggage alert! Red flag! Red flag! 

He then went on to tell us that he goes to therapy regularly for chronic depression. Another red flag! Now, remember that I went to counseling for ten months to make sense of my past abusive relationship, but I didn't have chronic depression, and I certainly was not in the same emotional storm that I was two years ago. He definitely had some issues he still needed to work on. I fully encourage counseling and therapy. There certainly is nothing wrong it, but I am cautious about people who have a chronic condition. 

John then made another cry for attention. He asked Kristy and I what we thought about a movie idea. He laid it out like this, with me peppering him with questions along the way. 

"Okay, so there's this girl."

"What's her age?"

"She's like, 20s." 

"Okay, go on." 

"Okay so there's this girl, and there's this man - they call him Old Man Henry." 

"Old Man Henry? So is he the town creeper? Is he a serial killer?" 

"No, no. That's just what they call him. He's nice. He's the girl's uncle. He takes care of her because her parents died." 

"Okay." 

"Okay, so Old Man Henry dies, and she's sad about it. So one day she goes to a lake with some friends of hers, and she's sad, and then she tells her friends she's going for a walk." 

"Is this a horror story? Does the uncle haunt her?" 

"No. Not a horror story. But she goes on this walk, and goes into an abandoned house, and then she finds all this stuff about her uncle in the house and some other woman. And it makes her wonder about his life. And then that's where the story begins." 

He smiled at me and Kristy, with a smug smile on his face, as if he had just surpassed Steven Spielberg himself and already won the Golden Globes and Oscars. 

Kristy, not one to pull any punches, immediately launched into her opinion. 

"It sucks! Where's the grab? What's the interest?" 

John looked at me and asked me what I thought. 

"Well, I mean, I don't see what's attractive about it either. It sounds like a boring beginning. Maybe if there was more spice to the beginning." 

Kristy jumped in again, "Yes! What is the grab? This story needs a good kick. There's no kick! There's no grab! If this was a book I'd throw it in the garbage!" 

Then John tried to redeem himself. "Well, my friend, who wins a lot of indie movie film awards and does filmmaking, and I are doing a movie together and I'm coming up with the story line. That's why I wanted to know what you thought." I felt bad. 

"Maybe work on the story a little more?" 

John became more withdrawn. I think we triggered his depression. John then became animated again and decided to pick a fight with me. 

"Okay, let me ask you this! What happens if you don't show up for jury duty?" 

"You can be held in contempt of court." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means that the judge can fine you or put you in jail." 

"Okay well, what if my address isn't updated?" 

"Why wouldn't your address be updated?" 

"What if I just moved?" 

"I don't know - probably not. You're supposed to keep your address updated. It's a misdemeanor if you don't." 

John then continued with about ten other scenarios, as if he were a little child with a wild imagination, asking me over and over "What if this" and "What if that," including what if he was out of the country. Finally I asked him, "Why are you asking me all these scenarios? Did you just get summoned for jury duty and you're trying to figure out how to get out of it? I don't get it." 

"Well you work in the courts so I want to know!" 

"But WHY? I don't control the jury system. That's not my domain. I don't understand why we're having this discussion. It's bizarre." 

He stared at me very weirdly. "Okay, I won't talk about it anymore!" He turned his face away from me and put his hand over his mouth. What the hell kind of reaction was this? 

Kristy looked at me and her eyes said to me, "Who the hell is this guy?" 

I decided to cut the night short. I asked for our checks. John didn't offer to pay for my bill. Red flag number three. 

The three of us walked out of the restaurant. Kristy and I walked next to each other. John walked ahead of us, not looking at us at all. He was like a robot. 

"Hey, have a good night!" I shouted at him. 

"Yeah, you too!" he shouted back, not looking at me at all. 

Kristy said, "I feel bad. Should you go talk to him?" 

"Hell no! Why would I do that? He's being a dick. Let him go be a dick." 

Kristy and I went to sit at another nearby restaurant to chat about the night and what a freaking weirdo John was. I decided to pull the plug on John. After I sent the following text messages, John tried calling me. I let it go to voicemail. 

I had to think about whether I was going to give this bad and bizarre behavior a third shot. I decided not to give him any openings. I sent the following text the next morning:

I then promptly blocked his phone number, as well as blocked him on Snapchat. Let's be real - if the guy can have a Jekyll-Hyde reaction over two dates, imagine how he'd react after a text like that! It was time to give John the final goodbye.

Note that I didn't even give him the opening to be friends with me. Let's be real here - some guys think that being friends means that they can someday have another opening. I didn't want to give John that kind of hope. I had to crush that hope, and crush it I did.

I'm sure that John, someday, will find the right woman, just as I will find the right man.

We're just not right for each other.

Single and No Mingle

It's been a long two weeks. Lately, I find that I've become content being single. Bumble hasn't really done much to improve my dating hopes, especially considering these yahoos. Observe: 

"Let me act like I'm some cool guy in conversation who is sitting around in a speedo so you can see how small my dick is." 

"I can't get real pictures of myself so let me just take selfies in the mirror of me making different facial expressions." 

"I can't afford to get my hair cut or even put on real clothes. Let me try to make you think I'm sexy by sticking my tongue out like Miley Cyrus." 

They all make me want to gag. 

I did meet one decent guy from Bumble, though. I went on a date earlier this week with a really nice guy named "John." John is a Southern boy with city flair. He's not a redneck, but he sounds a little bit like one. He does compliance checks to make sure that construction companies and their corresponding construction sites aren't violating federal safety laws. Sounds fancy, doesn't it? 

We met for drinks at an upscale bar. Things were going well. We were enjoying each other's company and exchanging laughs. As we consumed our drinks, I noticed something strikingly familiar about the bartender. I couldn't quite place it, but then it hit me. She was the fiancée of one of my ex's friends. I played it cool. 

We moved from drinks to having dinner at a Japanese restaurant. At the sushi bar, we ran into another friend of mine who was also on a date. Unlike me, he was no longer single and was out with his girlfriend. We exchanged some banter. One thing concerned me about John during the dinner portion - he seemed to need to go to the bathroom a LOT. I don't know if he had the urge to pee, but we hadn't been drinking much, and I'd never seen someone go that many times in the span of one hour. 

During one of John's bathroom breaks, my male friend said to me that he approved. I said to him, "Are you sure? Because you approved the last one and he turned out to be shitty!" My friend looked mortified. I thought it was because he was feeling guilty. I then realized that, at the precise moment the words came out of my mouth, John was standing right behind me. I was mortified, too! 

After dinner, John and I started walking back to our cars. I was a little antsy about getting home because I was supposed to start a trial the next day. Our short drink meeting had turned into a two-hour rendezvous that I hadn't anticipated. He wanted to sit and chat some more. After about five minutes of chatter, I let him know that it was time for this little lawyer to get home. 

As we walked to our car, I noticed someone who looked very familiar. I turned my head to get a better look until I realized that another ghost from my old life appeared - one of my ex's friends! He was there, at the bar outside, where I saw his fiancée. I turned my head, ignored him, and kept walking with John. 

John walked me to my car, hugged me goodnight, and said we'd go out again on the weekend. Since this date, John has been texting and calling me every day. 

John is a great guy, but when I first met him in person, I didn't feel that "spark." I didn't feel that sudden attraction for him like I did for my ex. It's not that I want my ex back - but I want that chemistry. When I look at my boyfriend, I want the feeling that I want to jump his bones all the time. I didn't get that feeling with John. I'll go out with him a few more times to see how things develop, though. It could be that the attraction needs to build. 

I think the other reason I'm partially turned off is because of all the phone calls and texting. It's not that I mind. In fact, I want a guy to call me and text me. I think I'm having an allergic reaction to it because I've been on my own for almost two years now. I've learned how to be alone. I've also learned to love being alone. I like my freedom. I like not worrying about another person. I like being able to do what I want, when I want, with whoever I want, or without anyone. It's all me. 

I know all of this sounds selfish, but remember the hell of a relationship I survived. I wouldn't say that my ex and I had the worst relationship in the world, but it certainly wasn't healthy. 

Being single again was rough because it meant learning to be on my own again. I know how to be alone again, and, frankly, I love it. I love myself. 

Someone once told me that the most important relationship you'll ever have after God is the one you have with yourself. It took me a while to understand what this meant. 

I think now I'm in a position where if the right man arrives in my life, I'll be ready to welcome him. Before I can love someone, I needed to learn how to love myself again. Loving myself is how I receive the ability to love other people. If I can't love myself, how can I love someone else? I needed this time alone. 

If I'm supposed to love again, I think I'm just about ready. 

Cinco de Flirto

photo credit: wallpapers-best.com

Sometimes, you unexpectedly get swept off your feet, literally.

I went out last night with two good friends of mine, "Ava" and "Camille." We met up at the next town over. The next town over tends to be classier than my town, and it is only a convenient 30-40 minutes away, depending on traffic.

We ended up at an upscale Mexican restaurant that had a fantastic band playing. Ava went home a little earlier, but my Latin side couldn't help but begin shaking my hips and moving my feet to the beats that the band was happily generating. Camille and I stayed behind with another friend.

I'll admit that when I'm out, I usually don't care much what other people think. I'm just out to have fun and enjoy what the night brings. The night brought me a blast from the past - a guy I went on a date with over six months ago. He had lied about his height, but he was otherwise a sweetheart. I didn't go out with him again because he lied about his height. He was a good half a human head shorter than me.
"Hey!" he called out to me, saying my name. "How are you?"
"Do I know you?" Camille immediately gave me a swift elbow to my side. I nearly jumped from it.
"Yeah! It's me, Eric! We went out for sushi remember?"
"Oh my gosh! Yes!" and then I continued with the feigned excitement of seeing him again.
With Mr. Short was a tall man with a head of light brown hair who made eye contact with me and extended his hand to me as an invitation to dance.

Normally, in Latin music, an invitation to dance includes a few swirls, twirls, and maybe an occasional dip. This guy took Latin music to a whole new level - he tried to morph it into American swing dancing. That's right - after about 20 seconds of being twirled around, he suddenly picked me up in a lift that could only be fathomed in a scene from Dirty Dancing and swung me one way, lifted me up again and swung me another way, and then ended up plopping me back on the floor. I felt like I was a small doll being tossed around by a kid. It was fun. This guy was no Patrick Swayze though. He got me so disoriented that after he tried to twirl me around again, I accidentally elbowed the guy in the head. After a few more minutes, he introduced me to all of his friends, including Mr. Short Eric.
"We've met!" I said. Eric laughed. At least the guy was cool about it.

I went back to my friends, dazed and charmed

Camille commented that I was sprung. I was sprung! It was the kind of encounter I read about in books and saw in movies - not encounters that happened to me in my sleepy part of the country. We continued on with our evening. After about another ten minutes, the king of swing was back for another round. At that time, it was only me and Camille. I looked at Camille, not wanting to leave her alone.
"Go, have fun," she said to me. I went.

Mr. Swing, true to form, did more of his lifts and swings with me. It was fun the first time, but after this second round, I was thankful I didn't indulge in a late night meal or consumed more than my single margarita. Mr. Swing then turned on his Cinco de Flirto.

"You're gorgeous. My name is Liam."

I learned that Liam was a fresh transplant from Missouri. I was surprised that he wasn't from California, given the mop of surfer hair on his head. He hadn't been living in the area for more than a month. He did home remodeling. His smile wasn't too terrible, either.

"Let me get your number. Take my number. I want to see you tomorrow."

We exchanged information. He continued.

"Come over tomorrow morning. We'll work out tomorrow morning. I'll make you breakfast."

This sounded bizarre. Plus, it was a school day. I had work! What was this guy doing? I suggested to him that we just meet after work, in the evening, you know, like normal people.

Of course, Mr. Swing was not normal.

"I need to be in [another town] tomorrow for work. I'll be there all weekend."
"Aw, well, you can call me when you're back and then we can go out."
He smiled at me and acted like I just articulated the theory of relativity.
"Right on," he said. Was he sure he wasn't from California?

He kissed my hands, and we said good night. We both stayed with our own groups. Another guy came over to me to dance. Liam was watching me like a hawk. Liam then picked out another woman from the crowd and did the same swinging and twirling he did with me earlier. It was full Cinco de Flirto.

Camille and I checked the time and decided to check out. She commented that Liam was watching me hard while the other guy was dancing with me. I didn't really care what Liam thought. I didn't even know the guy. I was just out to have fun with my friends, although our feet were barking from the soreness we imposed from our dancing.

A little Cinco de Flirto doesn't hurt, but at the end of the night, the only people I wanted to leave with were the people that I know will stand by my side - my friends.