Once upon a time I had a boyfriend that I loved very much, and who also loved me. He showed me by sleeping around and lying. We aren't together anymore because apparently me being ungrateful wasn't a part of the plan.
I am not ready to date, but what better time than when you loathe the idea with every part of your soul? Perfect. I can tell you exactly how this turns out. And, so I will...
The first person I met was tall and handsome with an accent. He was athletic, loved scuba and the outdoors, and animals! He was charming and charismatic and sarcastic. I mean, very sarcastic. Astonishingly so.
We met at a mutually agreeable place and time. He was instantaneously critical of everyone and everything. Almost like he practiced it. Continuously. I suppose I was his unwitting audience. I assumed that because of his pedigree that these things naturally went along with that. I'd like to add as a disclaimer that I hated it immediately. But, I'm southern, if you want to act like an asshole there's almost nothing you can do, as a stranger, to get me to point that out. Y'all.
So, after chatting combatively for a little while we finally got down to brass tacks. I made him uncomfortable, he didn't know what to do with me, he'd never met anyone like me. Whoa, there. I can take verbal bombs, mainly because I expect people to take them, too sometimes, but this was so deranged, so far from a human response to a stranger being nice, that I politely slid out of my chair, draped my purse over my shoulder and made a mad dash to my car. I only hope he didn't get my plate number because I can totally see stalking as a future goal of his.
The second 'date' thankfully only went as far as text messaging.
Got a text from someone with 'good morning' as the introduction. Clearly this person didn't know me, or the 7 a.m. buzzing in my ear would have happened three hours later therefore, I ignored it. I woke up (not at 10, that's actually when I start to feel less zombie) and replied with 'hello?' IMMEDIATELY I'm bombared with questions about why didn't I recognize this number (I'm the one who gave my number because obviously I need another lesson in crazy - I'm about to get it), didn't I know who it was, etc. When I replied that, no, I socialize, work, volunteer, etc. and get lots of numbers, I got a terse 'bye.' What-the-fuck-ever you clown. I apologized and told him I'm used to people introducing themselves. He then accused me of being a 'player' and other things I deleted out of my phone.
I quickly dismissed myself from that lunatic and vowed to never date in Vegas, ever. I do believe I'm here to merely serve as an example to all women that Vegas is probably not the best place to find someone to live out the rest of your days with. Unless sleeping with an axe strapped to your chest and a .38 glued to your palm is your idea of romance.
The end.
