The Short Lived Adventures of Mr. Bitter

First things first, Happy 2017 bitches! I for one always feel successful when I make it through even a day, but a whole year? Yes, I think I am winning for sure! Second, B and I have been a bit of slackers lately, I blame her slacking on the fact that her and Jerry are doing well, lots of sex and whatever they are doing and I wish I could say the same about me, but I will fess up and blame mine on drinking, sex and sometimes recreational drugs.


I texted B the other day and asked her to make one New Year’s Resolution with me-she immediately responded with, “I hate those and never succeed.” My thought…everyone hates them and no one ever wins. Like I start each year saying I will be better at birthdays this year, my nieces who were born in February and March get presents every year, by the time the ones in the summer come, they are usually late presents and my poor nieces in August, all 3 of them, usually get a phone call when I remember to call, which is sometime after they are probably in bed.


So this time I did not ask B to help me with that or to promise to be work our buddies or anything, I asked her if we could stop sucking at the blog and be better, so our promise to you is this: We will try, we will probably fuck it up, but we will try. I mean look at me, Sassy J Sunday was yesterday and I am posting this today, but it was a Holiday and after too many drinks, Xanax and I think a couple other items, I was asleep all day yesterday with the interruptions with breakfast with my best friend Ann then dinner at my parents. So, to you, our readers, we will try and do better but will eventually fuck it up, but we will never leave you!


Enough nonsense, lets back this train up a minute. I was recently added to a Facebook group that was undoubtedly made for people like me, people who are single-ish, fun as shit and have a terrible but awesome humor. I have met some amazing friends in it and even got some ass from it, gosh, I am such a lady! Now, I even have my group of awesome friends who we have named “Team Ram-Rod” because the stoners in us love Super Troopers-this group is made up of Robbie, who we have heard of many times in past stories, Ann, who is without question my Soul mate, and my future husband needs to know that he will never be my soul mate, and then Dale, a guy I met in the group, went on 1.5 dates with and decided we are way better friends. These are my people, and will come into play later on here.



So let get going, after I have met a few different people, dealt with drama, lent money and n expensive phone charger to a guy who then ghosted me (yes I am a moron) I met Mr. Bitter, which the name was suggested by Ann!


Mr. B came over to my house one night to watch a movie, prior to me sending my address Ann gave me a thumbs up as they were friends from high school so I had some confirmation that he was an OK guy. Before I knew it we were rolling around on the futon and magically had lost all clothes. He looked at me, and said with a sigh, “I just don’t want this to be a hit it and quit it thing for you.” In case you are wondering, this is the first guy in all of history I think so have said something like this however I told him I had intentions of hanging out again but we did not have to bang if we didn’t want to. Next thing I know we were going at it like rabbits.


A couple days later after still talking every day we made plans to go on a real date, due to the Christmas season and an unexpected vet bill for his dog we went to Chipotle which is never a bad choice. At the end of the romantic burrito bowls he asked me if I wanted to go to the Mall.


The Mall? Really? I was confused because clearly he was not going to buy anything because we just ate Chipotle since he was on a budget however I said OK. Next thing I know he is scoping out some $320 shades but clearly did not buy, then I found an awesome sale at Bath and Body Works and finally we were on our way to my house. After a few rolls in the sheets he left to head home.


The next day I spent the night with Team Ram-Rod playing poker and watching the UFC fights and Dale’s aunts. By 7:30 Ann and I had finished 2 bottles of wine, I lost $50 is poker and Rhonda got her ass kicked, yet the night was amazing. After I dropped Ann and her son off I went to visit Mr. Bitter at work since he worked security at night-I brought him an energy drink. After a drive thru the parking lot, to make sure there were no scoundrels in the parking lot I left to go home, all was good in our world…until the next day that is when I realized this would not work. A few red flags:


  1. He does not like to watch football, unless he is at the game. I am a Colorado native and live 4 blocks from the stadium and have only been to about 3 games in my life, so if you are not going to watch it on TV with me, we have issues.
  2. He works nights, I do not. Opposite schedules are not a good thing.
  3. He does not drink alcohol; he said maybe “a swing” twice a year when I sent him a photo of the bottle of Crown a vendor brought me at work.
  4. He does not smoke weed.
  5. He does not like sex as much as I do and when we have it he is very gentle. I do not like that.
  6. The biggest two however: I could never introduce him to my brothers, they would make fun of him for life (again, as we recall Creepy McDavis from 10+ years ago still gets made fun of) and I did not want him to hangout with Team Ram-Rod when we went to lunch the other day, I did not invite him even though it was near his home.


These are just a few things, things that may be able to be work on if we wanted to. I had not thrown in the towel yet, partly because there is comfort in knowing that I have someone to bang when I want to, and not having to worry about where I will get it from. However New Years day I woke up from a nap to about 14 textes-3 of which were from him. I responded and said, “Sorry, I was sleeping” then it went like this:


Mr. Bitter: “I am so confused”

Me: “Why” (thinking has he never taken a nap?!)

Mr. B: “About us, like what do you want here”

Me: **thinking we have literally been on one date**…”Well, I like you however we have only gone out once so time will tell however, I think that I am too wild for you, you are looking for a relationship and we just met and our schedules are way different.”

Mr. B: “This is clearly not a conversation for text, why don’t you just call me when you can”


Please note-he is the one who texted me, so it isn’t my fault I responded in a text! I told him we would talk later cause I needed to shower as I had dinner plans with my parents.


Later on after dinner I was getting drinks with some friends and he texted me telling me to call him, so I promised him I would on my way home.


So I called which side note, he is SO awkward on the phone, he moans a lot, like to the point you wondering if he is jerking off, then there are the awkward silences’, yet I granted his wish and called, and it went something like this:


Me: “Hey”

Mr. B: silence…..”Hey”

Me: “So I am just driving home…wanted to call, you know, because you told me to”

Mr. B sternly replies: “Yeah, cause you need to explain your text, especially because it came out of nowhere…”

Me: “Well I wouldn’t say out of nowhere, after all, you said you were confused and I asked why….”

Mr. B: “Well you say we have opposite schedules, but that won’t be forever, you say you are too wild, I have handled everything so far, and you say I want a relationship **snickers** which isn’t the case”


So I explain to him that I work, probably more then I should, and that now that the holidays are over, it is only going to get worse. I also say that I drink, I smoke weed and I like sex rougher then he does and that I cannot commit to a relationship now.
He accuses me of being all about sex (I think, is that a bad thing? Sex is awesome!) and then he tells me if there issues will keep us from a relationship that we should move on. So I say, “Yes, I do think they will hinder our relationship and why waste time?”


He takes this as the chance to remind me that my best friend Ann and her boyfriend are doing a long distance relationship as her boyfriend, David just moved to Jersey. I think, and of course say, “How is that a compassion, they have been together for like 7 months and you and I have gone on one date…it is far too early for this conversation.”



After he finally gets it that this won’t work he hangs up, de-friends me on Facebook, because we are in middle school I guess and starts posting sad angry memes on our group. So I sit here, as I laugh a little and think, I am not going to hope for happiness and love in 2017, I am not going to make false promises (as I reminded all of you, B and I will try harder but will still fuck up) and I will still be the same ass hole I have been, which is part of my charm.


So to all of you, thanks for reading and please, if you have stories to share we always want to hear them and share them on Feature Friday, just email us at or find us on Facebook! We will never share your names, as we do not even share ours! Have a Happy Fucking New year and you do you!


With love, J!

RIP Buffalo Wild Wings

When I was a little girl I had very different picture of adulthood. I thought that I would be happily married with a ton of kids by now, at 29. That could be because at my age my mom had a whole litter. We joke about it now, and I can see how I have matured based on this conversation:

21-Single and drinking too much 

Mom: Please do not have kids right now, I cannot handle helping you.

J: Dear God mom, I would kill myself.

24-In a committed relationship drinking and smoking weed

Mom: Please do not get knocked up, you live too far

J: Please my baby would be a fat little hippie.

26-Same relationship,  Going back to church more, not smoking weed (as much!)

Mom: You know, I sure do love being a grandma! And you have been with Joseph for a while now!

J: Great, so glad 3 of my 4 siblings have some for you! I sure do love being an auntie!

29-Last week, unmarried, super single, smoking weed and working too much

Mom: You should have a baby! Who needs a man!

J: If I do, I am going to bring it here and drop it off with you and see you in a week! And the plus side, if it is a boy it can carry on our last name! (Something my brothers are failing at with there perfect little girls!)

Mom: Yay! I would love that.

I am not sure though, if there would be comfort in telling my parents right now that I was pregnant. My first call would be to my Doctor (probably a text cause we are cool like that!) saying something classy like, “The Fuck Doctor! My IUD is not magic!” The shocking part would be that I have had it for a year and put it to good practice and it has held strong against various armies of little fighters and swimmers out there.

The second part that would be the awkward game of, “Who the fuck does this baby belong to!” I typically keep it to white men, that’s my preference, so that would not narrow it down at all. So sometimes this has crossed my mind-maybe I could make up a story about how the baby daddy is a douche-wad (a term my parents would be flattered about!) and tell them that he ran away. Then I risk being a single mom but do not let me parents and family know what a whore I really am.

These decisions are endless. I have played the step mom roll to a guy and that was exhausting. It was like one day, I was single and ready for the world, the next day I was being waken up by a 7 year old who only wore his boxer briefs in the house, pushing me over in bed so he could have the warm spot and I would be in the cold spot since his dad had left hours ago for work. The even worse part, I would be in a T-shirt and underwear (I hope!) and he would be trying to cuddle. To top that off, it is exhausting to be introduced into motherhood in the blink of an eye. At one moment I was basically mounting his dad in a parking lot and the next thing it was packing school snacks and getting to the bus stop.

After that adventure (that has SO many more stories to share-but it is not yet done writing itself cause I am a psychopath and you will hear about it one day) I found myself doing too many drugs and drinking to much-and that’s when people told me that at least if I got knocked up I would have a wealthy baby daddy who was an attorney. Thank God that was not the case.

And here, with less then 6 months left in my 30’s I continue to fight the good fight and date all these people. I was recently told by a friend that at this age we have to be willing to settle, “sometimes guys are bald, have kids, still have a wife, whatever-it is juts our age” so clearly I feel really good about my future. However what led up to her giving me this speech was even better. Here we go…

POF. I do not know why I do it to myself, to be honest it is partly for this Blog, and partly cause we just learned, I am a psycho. That being said,  I was talking to a guy named Matt, a divorced father of two beautiful little girls and a managing partner of a Buffalo Wild Wings- which seemed legit enough, he also owned a house and seemed to have shit together so I was all about it.

One Sunday Funday, where I conveniently had the next day off I met two girlfriends for brunch and football. Ash, a friend from work who did not really care about football, just wanted girl time and Marie, a firecracker form the east coast, and all the attitude!

I was on a budget because I am an adult and so I found myself sticking to the $3 bloodies, despite the fact they were giving me heartburn. As the say went on, I was talking to Matt who I had already been talking too a lot. After many shared texts and even him showing me photos of his beautiful (yes, beautiful) penis, he invited my friends and I to his restaurant. We discussed going and my commitment issues were only because of the budget and then paying the Uber. After Ash picked up the tab I convinced them to pay the Uber on the way back and I had it on the way there. Uber is usually the best but this BWW was in the middle of nowhere from our location downtime so we were looking at at $45 Uber ride, which seemed like a great idea at the time.

After I smoked a quick bowl alone we jumped in the Uber, and in about 10 minutes the paranoia and confusion set in and i felt as if I was going to have a panic attack. Ash then called her boyfriend via Facetime, and this stranger, Ben, made me feel somewhat OK with my decisions. Besides, we all decided, if nothing else we would get free drinks!

We finally get there and sit at the bar. I am watching every man that walks by, trying to figure out who he is, as meeting someone off the internet can be terrifying and inaccurate of there true selves! After we spot him I notice the thinning hair and ask if this should be an issue-as I think back to his cock, this is when Ash gives me the speech on settling and I seem OK. I text him to let him know we are there and he responds but has not yet made it over.

Now in his defense, I was so high that I did not know if we were there for 2 minutes or 2 hours however my friends told me the wait had been too long. Pretty soon Marie goes to the bathroom and Ash and I sit there-as I drink my Tito’s like it’s my job! Soon enough, I look up and he is standing there, right in front of us. As we chat Marie comes back and gives him a scary East Coast stare and says, “Why are you here, it took you long enough!” So he walks away. Obviously. I would too.

After a little while I am not sure how I feel so I sit there thinking about things and then my girls start asking the bartenders about their boss, the boss the employees seem to know nothing about. A minute later though they are filled in by my friends about how he sent me dirty (awesome) pictures and had been talking to me and yada yada, I get up and walk away.

I find myself sitting in the entry drunk texting my ex (the dad of the 7 year old) and then I get up to go to the bathroom-as I do, my friends are being escorted out…but drunk me still had to pee so I march past everyone and go to the bathroom.

Once I come back my friends share with me that Matt came up to them and told them it was time to leave.

Moments after getting kicked out, I know, real resume builder, he starts texting me. Telling me who inappropriate we were (fact) and that I needed to delete his photos because I did not have permission to use them, for what he meant I am not sure, and that I cannot ever go back there again.

A few weeks go by and I get another message from him on POF and I do take the time to apologize cause if someone came to my work saying I was sending them pictures of Chuck Norris (my vagina, which I can share the story sometime!)  I would most likely be embarrassed, but I do not think the shock factor would be too high on that one.

So after I apologize he says, “Oh! No worries, it is in the past! Want to come over to my house for a drink tonight!”

Because I am still here to tell you this story it means I did not go, because I am guessing I would have been murdered! In retrospect, I think going there was a poor decision however I am happy that things did not progress. I am also certain he was cross eyed but I also had about 4 drinks in the 20 minutes we were there so it is hard to know if it was me or him!

We will chalk it up to a win though, sure I am banned from a mediocre chain restaurant in the middle of the burbs, and without a guy 11 years older then me who still send dick pics but I am also not dating this guy so I feel pretty good about how it all turned out!


With Love! J!

The Bounty Hunter


As I thought about what to write for today’s blog I realized that last weeks kinda sucked. I do not think that it was my best work and have decided that I am not going to share more Joseph stories right now. Down the road there will be more appropriate times to hear of him getting in fist fights at Red Rocks and about his mom giving me so many weed brownies that I could not remember my own name, but that is all for another day.

The truth is, I think finding someone worth dating is the stupidest and most exhausting thing in the whole world. When I found Joseph, it was easy and it worked, but since we broke up two years ago, I moved back to Denver and now finding a needle in a hay stack seems like a much easier task then finding someone to sit thru a dinner, or even a happy hour, with.

Now, I know as I write this I sound jaded, and sure, I am, however I have learned to keep that to myself.  The last guy I told that to ghosted me after a romp between the sheets. However, as I write this, I am for once not jaded.  I have managed to find someone with the same fucked up humor as me and things have been going great, but that’s not what this story is about today!

Today I will share a tale with you — a tale that still makes me cringe talking about it (but that’s the point of this blog, to share the silly with you all!). Here goes: Recently with all of my online dating nonsense, I received a simple message on the nightmare that is POF and it said, “Happy hour?”

Well damn, it wasn’t the strongest opener but it beat all the lame ones, and if anyone knows me, they now I cannot turn down happy hour. Ever. I think this is how I will start my opening statement when I finally join AA. Since that has not happened yet, though, he and I picked a day for happy hour.  It wound up being after a long day of work and a stupid court case I had to go to, with my douche ex.  Clearly I needed a drink! So we make plans to meet at a mainstream chain restaurant conveniently located on the way to the tanning place I go to on my way home.

As I am sitting at the bar, drinking my Titos with two limes and soda like its my job, the middle aged couple next to me are fighting. Like legit fighting. The nosy neighbor in me is almost staring at them watching. Apparently the wife DID NOT like when her husband took her sausage off her plate.  I respect that because bitches love sausage. I know I do. Then she looks at him with the fury of Satan in her eyes and says, “I have no idea where your hands have been, keep them off my plate!” to which he very kindly responds, “You are fucking nuts!”

This is amazing.  So amazing I almost forget I am still sitting at the bar. Alone. Drinking. That will be the second part to my opening speech I will one day use at AA.

Finally my date arrives.  I wish this is where I could comment on his dapper style but he had gym pants on, a hoodie, tennis shoes and white tube shots. There was no lady boner happening on my end. As I entertain him and our waiter with the drama from next door (at this point Mr. and Mrs. Dirty Hands had left), Jay begins to share with me that he owns a Bail Bond company–which explains why the Hulk looks like his younger, small brother. He tells me that if he gets a work call, he will not leave our date for anything less than $8K. Apparently there is a price on being in my company, and sadly I would’ve thought it was higher than that. Lucky me, as he tries to smooth things over, he tells me that I could join him if he has to bail someone out of jail. “Ummm…no thanks I say!” He tells me, “No, it will be fun! You can be my Beth!”


I am sorry, did this first date is sweatpants just turn into a spinoff of Dog the Bounty Hunter?? And there is not even a mullet in this version?!

He doesn’t get any calls, which in retrospect was probably for the best, as I was not about to go spend this date in jail–there are too many opportunities for that story to lead somewhere even stranger!

So we sit there, and there is laughter, but I think his double shot’s of Jame-o on the rocks with a side of Budweiser are what’s helping the situation.

He then share some fascinating things with me. 1) he has two little girls (one happens to be a straight up ginger. Enough said.) 2) he could have got full custody but does not want them all the time cause he likes to go out and drink and also ride his Harley. He also mentions how he is so jazzed I am now ‘his girl’. Bitch please, this is our first date. Then, as he smiles, I see he is missing a front tooth.

God help me.

Next he spends a considerable amount of time trying to get me to go to a bar across town with him where they normally have Latin Hip Hop Night. For those of you who do not know, I am white–like, everything about me is very white. I grew up in the Denver suburbs where everyone is white and if you get a tan you are the minority. I also listen to Classic Rock and Country. I am not even sure what hip hop is! So, I respectfully decline, which leads me into a trap–he says, “Ok, if you are not going to go, we will just stay here and drink more!”


When the server comes back I say, “OK! Let’s get the tab and go!”  Now, I do not always condone trickery, however when someone is not getting the hint then I think it is allowed.

As he walks me to my car, he ignores the side hug I try to give and grabs my head to barrel his tongue down my throat. I pull away to break the news that I have to go home, but we will see each other soon. He pouts. This grown ass man, in his jumpsuit and all, pouting.

I finally escape and am driving when something almost causes me to puke in my new car. This happens about .3 seconds after I pull out of the restaurant parking lot, which is when the texts start — he is very mushy and makes it sound as if we will run away together. The comment he makes about creating babies with me did not help the situation.

The texts slow down as the night goes on.  It is amazing how that happens when you stop responding because you ‘fall asleep’.

The next morning I wake up to a text from him that says, “Good morning! How is my beautiful, sexy wonderful girl!?” then after 40 minutes of not responding, cause I fell back asleep (I know, lame of me) I get another one, “Hey baby, you still sleeping?! How did my girl sleep!”


I am on the phone with my sister, telling her all of this and she is laughing, telling me how thankful she is for the 11+ years of being happily marriage and that she is less than envious of me. I tell her of Jay’s dream to become bounty hunters and for me to pop out many red headed (I am assuming, here) kids, and also that when someone does not give off the same vibes as you, you do not wake them up with stupid texts in which you claim them as your own.

Later in the day I get a text saying, “Hey there babe! You have been quiet, how are you!?” and after 3, yes that’s right THREE minutes, another one that says, “Hey! Are you there! Did I scare you off?!”

How do you respond to that? Glad you asked. It is something like this, “I am not sure that scared is the right word however this is just a lot from one date.” He said he thought we both wanted a relationship, to which I respond, “Yeah I want a relationship but I am not going to force it. If it happens is happens but I think we are on different pages.”

Cue the string of angry texts. And also advice, that is not how you talk a girl into giving this a try! We did not go out again, in fact I blocked his number and now I live day by day by the books, cause if I don’t I am worried I will get arrested doing something stupid (likely) and have to call him to bail me out.

However if you want to be a pal and be my first call instead of Jay, you just let me know!

With love, J!

Thanksgiving: Dating Style

It’s Thanksgiving.  I’m alone.  Before you get all “awww nobody should be alone on Thanksgiiiiving, that’s so saaaad,” just shut it.  I honestly don’t care.  This is part of living far away from your family.  Anyway, it’s just a day — a fantastic one since I get the day off work!  And tomorrow I’ll go have Friendsgiving with my pals.

But since I haven’t eaten mass quantities of turkey, and thus am not in a bird-meat-coma, I will take the opportunity to do an “I’m Thankful For…” rundown of some of my dating history.  Because why not!

Milton — Oh Milton, you were the perfect first boyfriend.  Thank you for being shy and nerdy and for liking me even though I burst out laughing the first time you tried to kiss me (annnnd even though I jumped out of your car the first time we hung out because I was too shy to hug you).  You win the award for bringing out absolutely the most awkward version of me — not only back then, but also a few years ago when I flew to DC to be your +1 to that wedding, and it turned out the hotel ONLY had one-bed hotel rooms.  Remember when I built the pillow boundary down the middle of the bed so you’d stay on your own side during the night?  Yeah, I remember that too.  Also, thank you for dumping me because of my religion — that STILL makes for a great story.

Astro Boy —  You were my crush from the very first day of Astronomy 101 until the very last day of Astronomy 101.  You sat behind be in lecture three times a week, and three mornings a week my roomie would give me a pep talk in our dorm about how “today is the day you’ll be courageous enough to say hi to him!”  I never said hi to you.  I did say thank you once when you held the door for me after class…  Anyhow, thank you for making future-me a little less of a wuss.  After you, I vowed that no matter how scared I was to approach someone I liked, I would.  Because never knowing if someone would like you back is worse than knowing they don’t.

JJ — Humph.  Well, JJ, you’re one of the ones who gets talked about the least.  You know it isn’t because you weren’t significant.  It’s because of the many questions people ask (back then and still now) when I say, “I had a relationship with someone fifteen years older than me.”  Thank you for being the reason J and I are on a family phone plan.  Thank you for being the reason I looked into jobs in New England.  Thank you for being the reason I can say, “Yep, I’ve dated a dungeon master.” (For any of you who think that means I’m into some freaky shit, just go Google the term.)  And most importantly, thank you for being kind enough to let me go.

Fucking Alex — Even though this blurb is about what I’m thankful for, you’re not getting out of being called by the name given to you by my friends.  It’s too good a name — I tell people it’s your full Christian name.  Making friends in a new city wasn’t easy for me, so I am thankful to have had your friendship during my early days as a Bostonian.  While I am comfortable saying that I was the more wronged party throughout our entanglement, I certainly said and did things that I am not proud of, and thus am thankful for your ability to forgive.  Thank you for teaching me big, hard lessons about what I am not looking for in a partner, and that even when I feel completely broken, I can be strong.  (Also, thanks in advance for giving me enough drama to fill at LEAST 5 blog posts eventually.)

Chet — Meeting you, and liking you, gave me the perspective I needed to see my relationship with Fucking Alex for what it was (read: Fucked with a capital F), and that perspective allowed me to finally stop texting him back whenever it struck his fancy to talk to me.  Thank you for being genuine.  Thank you for coming along just when I was ready for someone new — a mere (ha!) 8 months and some odd days after Fucking Alex broke my fucking heart.  Thank you for being the closest I’ll ever come to sleeping with my high school celebrity crush (RIP Paul Walker…you beautiful….beautiful bad actor, you).  Oh, and after we quit dating, thanks for all those nights you’d drunk (I assume) text me to ask if I would pee on you.  That was unique.  You get points for originality.  But dammit Chet, why didn’t you ask sooner!  Did you not know I’d try anything once?

Hudson — Thank you for teaching me that my “I’ll try anything once” theory was a lie.  Your extreme kinks taught me that!!  Because of you, I had a question worthy of calling in to my favorite podcast host — Dan Savage — and he answered my question.  You did that for me!!  Thank you for reminding me that first dates can be lovely and that I don’t need to settle for people I feel “just alright” about.  Thank you for being much different from most men I’ve dated — you taught me about things I need, and things I don’t. (p.s. I’m going to try very hard to not ever post a screenshot of that time you texted me saying you wanted me to smash a cake in your face and then make you fuck it. You’re welcome.)


Love at First Summersault? 

It is hard to believe that once you poop on someone’s car that you will have a future with their friend, however silence is golden and not sharing these things only helps a relationship! It wasn’t long after that episode that my grandpa got sick and as I was crying in a lift shack, Joseph pulled up on his snow mobile and came in, as I cried he only held me. It was a rocky start to our relationship.

A few days later my grandpa passed and I left to go to the funeral. When I returned, a day late, I was confronted by my ass of a boss who had written me up for missing work, because there was a blizzard and the highway was closed. Ahh, corporate America exists even in ski towns! I decided to take my pent up anger and sadness and then it into a 30 rack of PBR and bring it to the maintenance shop to share with Joseph and his coworkers. After I slammed too many beers in order to get over my annoyance of my boss Joseph and I went to eat Chinses food and then to his friends where we smoked a gigantic blunt at his friends house.

Shortly after the blunt I stood up and walked to the bathroom, I hardly made it in before I started to vomit all over the bathroom and to make matters worse, it was a carpeted bathroom. There was only so much I could try and clean up however it did not help that the world was spinning.
After this beautiful start it is hard to believe things lasted past that date however before I knew it we were living together. It had been a few months and things were going very well. All of the sudden my life was full of dinners with his family and planning our meals for the week.

The first 4th of July we had together was about 4 months after we started dating and we were at our house shooting off fireworks with our friends and Joseph’s family. After a few fireworks went off a very confrontational neighbor came down the street and started talking smack about how we were going to burn down the forest. Now this was some guy who maybe went to the mountains about once a year and thought he knew everything about everything, little did we know, he knew lots about nothing, except how to call the police.
After we shoot the last of the bottle rockets off our friends and Joseph’s family leave, we go inside and get a warning call from his dad saying there was a police car parked a couple houses down which led to Joseph squatting on the deckpeering thru the railing for the police. Next thing I know he did a summersault and ran off into the woods.
The cops are now outside my house, shining spotlights into the house as I hide in the kitchen with my roommate Martin, who is sporting his boxers and we are trying out what’s going on and where Joseph was. To top it off I then get a call from Joseph’s dad amking sure everything is good I let him know that Joseph dashed into the forest and I hadn’t seen him since-my silver lining to this was that his dad had a heads up now for when I would have to call to have him bail his son out of jail!

Moments later, as I am still talking to his dad and Joeseph walks in the door whistling and says, “Hey-ya baby cakes!”
He had double backed through the woods and ran into the cranky neighbor again who did not recognize him, after some banter back and forth the neighbor started putting two and two together as the cops walked up. Joseph made up a story about how he just moved in with his parents and he wasn’t sure who would be so inconsiderate as to light fireworks in the dry Colorado mountains and went on his way back to our house.
Looking back, between the pooping, and the puking and the disappearing acts into the woods it was the the strangest start to a relationship however it was also the most successful relationship I had! Now, I should update my dating profile to something like, “Looking for firework shooting, summersault doing individual who is ok with me not being able to control my bodily functions.”

Shocking it did not last forever. Shocking that I am still single.

Three’s Company, Too?

I’ve been a slacker with posting.  I’ve felt a little terrible each Wednesday for not posting a B story, and then last week I felt REALLY terrible, for reasons completely unrelated to this blog.  I felt terrible because the previous night I’d watched the presidential election, and saw the US sink inch by inch into the quicksand that is Donald Trump’s campaign.  Just like quicksand, the the harder democrats fought against Trump, the more quickly we all sank deeper.

Anyhow, this isn’t going to get political, but needless to say, I’m sorry for not posting for a few weeks — with exception to last week, because I legit walked through the day as if I were a zombie.

That morning, I woke up next to Jerry and didn’t even contemplate jumping his sexy body, because  I was overwhelmed with “WTF” (ok…maybe I briefly thought about it before reverting to “WTF” mode).  I then stared at the wall and contemplated whether going into work was even possible.  I couldn’t come to a conclusion because, as stated, I was overwhelmed with “WTF,” so I asked Jerry if I ought to go in.  He suggested yes.  Possibly because it was what he felt I needed, but also possibly because he could feel the “we’re not fucking today” vibes rolling off of me, and figured it was pointless to have me laying on his bed like an antisexual slug all day.

Now that I really lay those two possibilities out there, he definitely chose “go to work” based on the latter.

I believe that last time I posted, I said I would tell a funny story the next time.  Here goes nothing.

A few years ago, I was single like a Pringle, living life and having fun hanging out with friends.  Mostly with one friend who had moved to the same little burb-within-the-city that I lived in.  We were two peas in a pod, except she was SUPER outgoing with a big personality, and I’m ever-so-slightly-shy (though totally down to act like a fool in public WHEN. EVER.) in new situations.  It was her birthday, and she wanted to go to the bar and then a club.

Even when I was in college, I wasn’t really a club person, so being in my mid-twenties, this wasn’t going to be my kind of night.  BUT, when it’s your friend’s birthday, you do what she wants!  Also, my friend was in grad school at the time, and at the bar, it was mostly her classmates.  They were all reveling in a night away from the books, and were getting smashed.  I am not really the type to get smashed, because someone needs to keep their wits about them, and, well, nobody else ever wants to be that person!

I wound up talking to my friend’s bosses for the first two hours at the bar.  While in school, my friend was a nanny for a rich couple in their mid-thirties with a few kids.  I’d thought it was odd that they were invited to her bar/clubbing birthday party, but they were nice and I was having more fun chatting with them that I would’ve had watching her friends knock back shots…sooooo…win!

The husband, Mark, owned his own business.  We talked a lot about the town I’d gone to college in, because he’d gone there too!  He also told me to send him my resume at one point.  Mark was good looking enough, but not so good looking that he was intimidating.  Traditionally handsome, but not do-a-double-take-when-you-pass-him-on-the-street.

His wife, Rachel, on the other hand, was smokin’!  Total MILF.  Like, how she had the body she had after birthing three children is beyond me.  My body isn’t as good as hers and I’ve birthed nothing. Womp…  She had a cute pixie cut and was smart and funny.  Basically, if I were a guy, Rachel would’ve been the total package for me!  And even as a girl, I had a bit of an “omg you’re so pretty and cool,” crush on her.

My friend announces it’s time to head to the club.  Mark and Rachel were only staying for the bar portion of the evening, so I’m bummed and say something like, “aww man who am I going to hang out with now?! hahaha.”  Mark announces that maybe they can come to the club a little while.  YAY!

We all walk a few blocks, and Mark — who is between Rachel and I — throws his arms around each of our shoulders.  I think it’s a little chummy but WHATEVER! I’m tipsy and YAY OLDER COOL FRIENDS!  We get to the club and the line is long.  Like, at least 50 people long.  I’m annoyed, since waiting an hour to enter a club I’m not even sure I want to be in sounds lame.

Mark walks to the front of the line and then comes back to say all 20 of us can jump the line and go in because he paid the bouncer. Whaaaaaat!  Mark is awesome!  All hail Mark!

Once inside, we’re all dancing in a group.  At some point, I feel someone take my hand and look over to see it’s Mark.  Silly Mark, he’s too tipsy to know that is wife is on the other side of him!  I slide my hand out from his and continue dancing, laughing awkwardly.  He smiles back and yells over the music, “Sometimes my wife and I have threesomes!”

My response is to smile wide and nod enthusiastically the way you do when you have abso-fucking-lutely no idea how to respond.  At the time, I imagined that it came off very obviously as, “oh wow, what an incredibly random thing you’ve just said!  I’m trying desperately to pretend it’s very normal and not kind of weird that you’ve shared this thing with me,” but, in hindsight, it’s possible that it looked like, “COOL! That sounds like it might be fun!”

Because I am shocked and unable to believe that the couple my friend BABYSITS FOR has maybe asked me to join them in bed, I tell myself he was just sharing.  Then I look around for someone else who I can go talk to.  Unfortunately I missed everyone else splitting off to go buy drinks at the many bars lining the large room.  I’m alone dancing with smiling Mark and Rachel.  FML.

I excuse myself for the bathroom and grapple with whether to tell my friend that 1) her employers are swingers and more important 2) THEY MIGHT WANT TO SWING WITH ME!  When I rejoin the group, I gravitate toward the other folks I know, but Mark is soon by my side, saying he and Rachel are going to leave and want to know if I’d like to take a limo back to their home in the burbs to fuck.  Welp, scratch the “might” from point 2) above.  It’s a “definitely,” now.

Thoughts that go through my mind within seconds:

  1. If I want to have a threesome in my life, this is probably the ideal situation.  Why? Because they’re the couple and I’m the unicorn, meaning things will be less complicated for me.  They’ve obviously done this before and can take the lead.  I’m genuinely attracted to both of them — especially the female (which is not my preferred gender, so that’s a huge bonus!).
  2. They want me to go back to their home where their KIDS are sleeping!  What if we’re having a bang session and one of their kids has a nightmare and comes to knock on the door?!  Am I spending the night?? Who will they tell the kids I am in the morning??  Are their kids USED to strangers being in the house in the morning?  Do they KNOW their parents are swingers??
  3. How will I get home?  Their house is at least a $40 cab ride from my house.  Will they drive me home in the morning?? That’s waaaay too weird.
  4. I can’t leave my friend’s BIRTHDAY PARTY to go HAVE A THREESOME WITH HER EMPLOYERS!

Ultimately, I’m on my period, so even if I was okay with all of the squicky facts brought up in #2, could get over #4, and figured out #3, nothing was going to happen that evening.  I tell Mark that there’s no way I can bail on friend’s birthday evening so early (which is true!).  He asks for my number.  I laugh and he asks again.  I am unsure how to say no without being offensive to MY FRIEND’S EMPLOYER, and figure there arrrre those points made in #1, so even though I’m 99.9% sure I never would, it doesn’t hurt to give the # and then say no later?

My friend walks Mark and Rachel out, and I follow not-too-closely but close enough so that once they are gone, I can run over, catch my friend alone, and say “oh my god…I don’t know if I should tell you this, but Mark and Rachel just solicited me for a threesome!”

I told her because I had to tell SOMEONE.  Why didn’t I tell someone else at the party?  Well, I didn’t want to tell someone who might be judgmental about people who have threesomes, because then they’d think negatively about the people my friend worked for.  Buuuuut maaaaybe I should’ve told nobody or told someone else, because my friend was pissed. At ME!  She said she’d seen me talking to Mark and Rachel a lot earlier in the night (at the bar) and that I must’ve been flirting with them, etc, and secretly wanted to have a threesome with them.

It’s been years.  My friend and I worked it out.  Mark and Rachel never contacted me again (thankfully!).  But what do you think?? Was I at fault here??

The Cock-Block Retaliation

I did not go to college like all of my friends, I did not have nights in the dorms, or fraternity parties and keg stands. Not on any college campuses anyway! Despite missing out on all of those moments I had plenty other ones that they did not, I have worked at lodges, dude ranches and ski resorts. There are many stories that I will share with you, even if I were to get happily married today (which I am single, so unlikely!) there would be stories to last for years!

Today I will share the beginning of Joseph, a boy I met my first week working at a ski resort in the Rocky Mountains and who I ended up dating for almost 5 years. Due to the length of our relationship this will result in a few stories, full of his crazy family, broken bones at Blues concerts and random sex locations! All things fun, sex, drugs and rock-n-roll!

I had already spent a winter deep in the Rockies as a legit ski bum and as the snow flew a year later I found myself in another mountain town, closer to the City and my family, but far enough to still have my own life.

During the first week, at orientation we went to a lift on the mountain to learn how to run the lift on the auxiliary motor, something I never thought I would need to know how to do! That is when I met Joseph. He was tall, and big, like a real man, and I had an instant crush on him.

A few months went by, and there were other men, which we will hear about another day, and I only saw Joseph at work. I worked on a lift that luckily broke down a lot and even though the lift operators could reset it themselves, we were not allowed to. Joseph would come to the lift when it would break down and listen to me jamming to the Dead and sit there and chat we me a little here and there before taking off on his snow mobile, until the next break down would occur.

On a drunken day off in the locker room there was a flyer with a blonde haired guy, naturally with a mullet. The flyer was for a party on a street called “Shooting Star Way” which seemed to be made up, though it did not stop my friend and I from calling the number and getting more information on the party. We found out it was a party, conveniently being hosted by Joseph and his friends (his friend was the one with the mullet, I know, disappointing!).

The day of the party I made a decision, a sober, conscious decision. I wanted to hook up with Joseph. I did not think about the future and what it might bring, I thought about that night and hooking up with someone who I thought was a babe! I had no idea that we would be together for the next 5 years.

That night, I drank whiskey as if it was my job, out of a mason jar on ice, with nothing mixed in. I drank a few of those, and when someone knocked the last of it out of my glass, I almost cried. Because that is what adults do.

Before I knew it, I told Joseph I needed to sleep on his couch. Please. He knew it was a lie too. After a few more drinks, flirting, and laughter the couch I asked to stay on ended up being his bed, and it ended up being all night.

The next few days were full of the awkward, “Does he like me?” “Should I call” because texting and Facebook stalking were not options, despite us being millennials, he did not was a cell or was linked into any social media.

About a week later, he made me dinner, this is where I knew the romance existed, he made me a grilled cheese hamburger. For those of you unaware of this masterpiece, you make two grilled cheese’s (white bread and Kraft, of course) and then make a juicy hamburger and use the two grilled cheeses as buns. This is also why Americans are fat. I think I fell in love at that moment.

The next day things started to get weird, he showed up to a BBQ at the bottom the lift I was working at and handed me my pajama pants that I left at his house. I figured he did not want to hang out again however he also discussed our plans for later that evening, which was a party in a nearby town. Despite our plans, later in the day Joseph told me that he was no longer able to give me a ride to the party as he had a friend he had not seen in a while and she, yes, she, needed a ride. I had just been cock blocked by a she-man. I say she-man because she looked like a man but people did say she was a girl. Now I know me saying this sounds like I am being a bit of brat and you may think this girl was actually pretty and I am petty. False. She had the bone structure of a man, and I think even an Adam’s Apple. She also had this red-ish curly hair that was the definition of frizzy.

Full of anger, and pajamas in my backpack my friends and I went to the party. As I mentioned, the day had got weird and it was only getting stranger. First my friend Ashley and poured Evan Williams (crappy whiskey) into a Crown bottle and then watched everyone say things like, “This is delicious!” or “This is going down so smooth!” Then, too many games of flip cup and beer pong, Ashley and I found ourselves walking thru town, where we then walked past the frizzy she-mans jeep. The only logical thing to do, as a lady and as an adult was to climb up on top of that jeep and popped a squat on the hood. And at the risk of being judged too much I will not explain if it was a 1-2 combo or what, use your imagination if you must.

I wish that this was not a part of the night that I remembered however, somehow, almost a decade later, I am still slightly haunted by how disgusting people are (me) and also impressed that doing that even entered our minds.

The good news for all of you out there: Do. Not. Cock-block me. EVER.

With Love, J!

Bad Habits

Memory is a weird thing.  Some people’s are good, some people’s are bad, some remember names, and some remember faces.  When I think of my own memory, it’s like Google.  I think up a search term, mentally hit “enter,” and  memories pop up in order of most to least relevance.

Unlike Google, sometimes we don’t even have to submit any search terms for memories to come flooding into our brains.   It may just take a certain smell, song, or, you know, a few too many drinks and then WHAM!  Memories right in your face.  Doesn’t matter if you want ’em or not.

Last week I had my first apple cider of the season, and even before the delicious caramel-colored liquid hit my tongue, I thought of my grandma.  As soon as it was autumn, my grandma would have cider in the house.  And I don’t mean she’d have it a few times throughout the season.  My grandma was incredibly habit-based when it came to what drinks she purchased, and was maniacal about keeping the appropriate liquid stocked.

Available year-round:  Barq’s Root Beer, milk, and water.

1-2 months after every trip to Ohio: Barq’s Red Cream Soda**

Summer months: pink lemonade — never yellow

Fall months: apple cider

Winter months: egg nog (gross)

**I’m not sure why, but this variety wasn’t sold in my home state.  This meant that when my grandparents drove to visit my aunt and uncle, they would intentionally leave room in the trunk so they could load up on Barq’s Red Cream Soda before they came home.

Needless to say, memories of my grandma’s house will forever be linked to root beer, cider, and red cream soda (it really was delicious).

This train of thought about my grandma’s drink habits started me thinking about my own habits.  Since I was also trying to think of a good topic for my blog post this week, naturally my mind went to dating habits.

When I first think of dating habits, I think of people who have a “type,” physically.  I don’t think I have that — the guys I’ve dated have had a variety of hair color/height/build/etc. (I guess they have all been white.  But don’t worry, I’m not one of those ‘I’m only attracted to those within my race’ girls.  How do I know? Because Michael B. Jordan. Don’t know who he is?  Look him up.  You’re welcome. )

Anyhow, because the guys all looked different, I always thought I didn’t have a “type.”  Enter Dan Savage — the Relationship Advice King.  He often talks about how if all of your exes are “crazy,” then you need to consider who was been the common denominator in all of those relationships (hint: it’s you).  Now all of the men I’ve been interested in haven’t been crazy, but many of them have been unavailable in one way or another.

Examples: One lived halfway across the country.  One was much older than me and didn’t have his shit together (I don’t mean he just didn’t have every detail planned, I mean he often didn’t have a job).  One had a long-distance girlfriend (I KNOW, I’M TERRIBLE.  I was young, please don’t judge me).  One told me that while he liked me and was happy to be friends with benefits, he didn’t see us dating.  One was incredibly charming and so enthusiastic about our potential relationship whenever we talked, but he would only talk to me once or twice a month.

I’m not a person who has ever needed to be in a relationship in order to be happy, but I would like to have a partner to share things with, so I sat down and took a hard look inside myself.  Sure these guys weren’t all unavailable in the same way — I wasn’t ONLY going after men who had a girlfriend, or ONLY going after those who just wanted to bang — but something was attracting to men who, if I was being honest with myself, I knew would never give me the kind of relationship I wanted.

So why did I keep waiting around for them?  Maybe part of it is that I’ve watched too many romantic movies and read too many novels where if you just keep hoping things will work out long enough — just past the moment when you should probably let go — then everything will fall into place and be easy.  I can’t say that never happens in real life, but it sure hasn’t ever worked that way for me.  Regardless, I wasn’t satisfied with blaming my unfortunate habit of betting on something I knew would probably fail on that simple fact that Hollywood conditions us to think that romance is “beating the odds to be together.”

There is the classic, “women with shitty track records with men have daddy issues,” trope, but my father is wonderful, so I knew that wasn’t my issue.

Pinpointing the ways in which you’re keeping yourself from finding what you want to find is hard.  It’s hard, in part, because it’s always hard to uncover habits that may not even be conscious ones, but it’s mostly hard because it can be difficult to admit to yourself that you might be the reason your relationships aren’t working.  It’s easier to blame it on the other person, or those ten pounds you need to lose, or timing, etc.  Making an excuse and believing it doesn’t involve unearthing a characteristic within yourself that you maybe don’t want to know you possess.  And let’s be honest, once you acknowledge that an unpleasant attribute exists, it’s nearly impossible to go back to pretending it isn’t there.  So most people don’t go looking.

If you’re brave, and if you’re sick of falling into relationship after relationship that doesn’t turn out the way you want it to…start that search.  Maybe you’ll excavate all of your subconscious feelings and worries and insecurities, and none of them will have anything to do with why your relationships haven’t worked — maybe your exes really did just suck, or the timing really was off.  That’s possible!  But don’t be afraid to check.  You might find something that does matter, and that is impacting your relationships.

So what was my issue?  I’m scared of not being enough for someone.  This may sound silly, since, to some degree, everyone is scared of showing their true self to someone they like and then having that person walk away.  However, I was so scared of not being enough that I developed a habit of starting relationships that are doomed from the beginning.  Why?  Because then when they end, it has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the actual and obvious reason(s) it never would’ve worked out (e.g. he lived halfway across the country, he already had a girlfriend, he wasn’t a steady communicator, etc).  Not a great game plan, but one that makes sense if the person making the plan is a people-pleaser who finds the idea of personal rejection absolutely horrifying.

Now that I know this, I can do a better job of checking-in with myself at the beginning of a new relationship to make sure I’m not continuing to engage in this habit.  And theeeen, hopefully after a while, my (bad) old habit will be replaced by my (good) new habit of paying extra attention so that my anxiety over being rejected doesn’t lead me into stupid relationships!  Yay self-improvement.

Sorry this wasn’t a hilarious story!  I’ll do one of those next time, I promise!  But dating isn’t all about the crazy stories of other people being ridiculous/horrible/weird.  Sometimes it’s about getting to know yourself more in order to find a good match. 🙂

Love, B!

P.S. Thought tangent about staying in unhealthy relationships — Isn’t it kind of incredible how long you can survive on brief blips of happiness in a relationship?  How those blips can keep the embers of hope alive through extended periods of hurt and confusion?  It’s absurd.  I’ve definitely been there.  For me the cycle only ended when one day, the pattern went on too long and I realized the bad times weren’t just something I had to endure in order to get to the good part–in order to deserve the happy ending.  I woke up to the fact that, no, this is what it is.  This is how it’s going to go.  This isn’t “what we’re going through”…this up and down mess of a situation….this is…it.

The Jack Attack Fan Club

As most things in my life I knew this was a bad idea, however instead of making the right decision and moving on, I made the conscious decision to continue.

Let’s rewind a bit. Recently I decided to stop dating, which shocked a lot of people but I did not give up on having sex and shenanigans–I am not crazy!

It had been a couple weeks since I had sex which was beginning to cause me to lose my mind. One week night, I found myself starting a million different conversations online, or with people from my roster.

The Roster: Similar to that of a sporting roster–in which there is a list of names of people on the sports team. In this case it is the list of names of people who I call on when I need to get laid.

On this particular night there was no one I could call on from the bench to assist with my needs, so I turned back to the conversations on various dating sites.  Because I am classy, I looked at this as a way to help out everyone in my world — if I was not going to get laid soon then people would think Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada was a saint compared to how I’d be.

I had a few conversations going, one from Jackson and one from a guy named Matthew. Moments after Matthew texted me his number, as texting is easier than these stupid apps, Action Jackson sent me a message explaining how he was looking for a hook up. Due to my dry spell, it was music to my ears.

He then proceeded to tell me that he was out of town and unable to help me with my needs at that moment, but asked me if I would be interested in a threesome at some point.

Surprisingly this is not something I have ever done, however it is something I have thought about, and doing it with people I have no romantic connection too seems better. Then I asked him if he had someone else in mind and he told me he had a buddy. Clearly my next question, because I am tactful was, “Would you penetrate each other?” and I was relieved when he responded and said no. Next he tells me, “You should find my buddy, he is on here,” and then gave me his screen name.

His buddy was Matthew, who had just sent me his name and number. Are. You. Kidding. Me. I thought.

So my opening text to his friend is, “Want to have a threesome with your friend Jack and I?” because this seemed too odd that they were both on here. However, he was confused by this line.

After some conversation it made more sense to him and he said he would be open to it. Eventually we decide we should hangout, because that is the likely decision to make, while sober, at 1 in the morning.

Because this seemed like a crazy decision and it was too late to un-send the messages, I decided I could not be sober so I smoked a huge bowl, which always makes things better.

As he texted me the whole way to my place, my heart beat faster, which the weed did not help with!  

After he arrived, we chatted, which seemed to be boring AF to me but necessary for a few minutes. It felt like a business arrangement, but that was only until we went to the bedroom. Next thing I know, after getting tangled up in the sheets, as we lay there breathing heavily, all he can talk about is Jack Attack. Now there is a part of me who understood where this is coming from as it was our common bond, however conversation was not what I wanted.

Soon he left which I appreciated as I told him earlier he could only come over if he left after as I was not in the mood to cuddle.

The next time he texted me I told him I was on my period and I have yet to hear anything since. It’s hard to tell if the Fan Club has died or not, but we all know if there is ever more, you will be the first to hear about it!

With Love, J!






Blow and Go See Ya’ Later! 

It was the worst date I had ever been on. I should have known that even before we went out however I went anyways.

We met on POF, he was tall, Catholic and looked like a big guy who could keep me safe and protect me–all the things I liked.

We made plans for a Saturday afternoon, because I had plans to babysit my nieces afterwards. 

Red Flag #1:

He asked me to pick him up because he has a blow-and-go in his car and was afraid he would not be able to drive home. 

There were so many issues I had with this, for one, I had never met him, so why would I drive to his house and pick him up?  And two, why is he planning to drink either a) that much or b) at all, on a lunch date?

Regardless of this, we decide to go to lunch. I get there first and I am looking thru the menu, taking in the sun on an outside deck, awaiting the arrival of Mike. Then, I hit that moment while I am waiting, the same moment I hit every time I’m about to meet a first date, when I say…”I can leave now and pretend that I was never here.” That’s right, I am a terrible person, but that’s part of my charm I think. 

As I see him walking up, I am happy– relieved even–that he looks normal, and handsome. Then as I stand up to give him the awkward obligatory hug…

Red Flag #2:

Transistion Lenses in his sunglasses…or glasses..but maybe sunglasses? I am full of confusion at the moment.  

I let it slide, because even though I am not always a fan of changing people, there are some changes that are necessary. I can deal with breaking a guy of his transition lenses habit.  Next thing I know this guy is slamming his vodka tonics and I am thankful that he took a Lyft to get there. But I’m also sad for the Lyft driver who will have to smell the vodka pouring from his pores as he gazes out the window, thru not rose colored glasses, but tan ones? (I do not even know what color to call it!)

Next we look at the menu. We get a few apps, to which I can’t even remember looking back, I was too distracted by the sweat dripping down his face because he decided to wear an under shirt with a long sleeve button up over. It was at least 80 on this patio, however he gave it the good ol’ college try on this one, which is why I can somewhat OK it. 

Things are going semi-ok as the food arrives. Cue:

Red Flag #3:

He chews while he talks. There is now shrimp and French fries falling out his mouth and spraying the table. 

I am officially disgusted by this. I then hate myself for letting him know what time I needed to be gone by to babysit, however I make up an excuse, that “Oh darn! My brother needs me to come over earlier then planned!” As I apologize, he continues to try and get me to take a shot before I leave, then offers to let me drive him home. I think, “Ahh poor guy, he does not understand that there is not enough alcohol in the world to get me to do that!” 

I respectfully decline his romantic gesture, and tell him I do not have time. So he pays (another solid point) and then walks me down to my car and tries to kiss me. 


As we hug goodbye he confesses..

Red Flag #4:

“Well, I think I will go back upstairs, there was someone who caught my eye at the bar, but, can we go out again sometime?”

I leave the bar as fast as I can. He even texted me later to tell me he had a good time and then ask when we can go out again.

Red Flag #5:

He is a moron who cannot pick up on signals

A couple months later, long after I had moved on, I took my then boyfriend’s son to go to the arcade and bowling alley on a day off.

Red Flad #6:

Mike is the manager. Of the arcade/bowling alley. And….he has no idea who I am as we pay for our activities, he is oblivious to it.

So, all in all I learned from this and it was a good experience. To recap, in a nutshell, I know that if someone has transisition lenses and asks me to drive so they can get drunk at lunch on our first date, I can say no before we even go out. However, somethings you must learn the hard way! But not the kinda hard I like! 

With Love, J!