You know what’s therapeutic? Recalling terrible dating stories. I seem to have more than my fair share. Ahhh, freak bacon. I’ve got a black-hole-strength suck for ‘em.
Yet again, this one was a long distance attempt at romance. I’m pretty sure after the most recent fiasco with David that I’m never going to date outside of my area code EVER AGAIN. I also met this particular gentleman through Date Wrecks as he was a big fan and regular commenter. I can’t really remember what spurred us to start emailing back and forth, but I do remember it all occurred on my birthday weekend last year.
We spent four solid days exchanging emails back and forth very heavily. He asked for my phone number. This was the first time I had really ever talked with a guy that I met via Date Wrecks, so I was nervous and twitchy and stupid. But we talked and it was incredible.
He was liberal, interesting, wicked smart and funny. And of course (what I’m realizing is my Achilles Heel), he was seriously interested in me. After a couple of weeks of talking, we made plans for him to come visit me.
Seriously, that weekend was one of the best of my life. It was so fun. So romantic. So silly. We traipsed all around Atlanta and I showed him all my favorite places. We drank like fish and ate like royalty. We also boinked like nobody’s business. I was so incredibly thrilled.
The last night that he was going to be in town, he bought me a big fat bottle of Jameson, my favorite whiskey. We picked up some gingerale and headed home. It was a pretty chilly December weekend and we’d suck down our drinks and go out on my back deck to snuggle and share cigarettes. He had never had whiskey before and really liked it. We drank… a lot.
I mean, we drank a lot, guys.
We stayed up drinking, smoking, talking, and making out until the nearly dawn. We finally crawled into bed and crashed. I woke up around 11 in the morning, FREEZING.
Now, I don’t turn the heat up very high in the winter. I mean, it’s Georgia. How cold is really gonna get? I also just like keeping the house crisp and cool. If you’re cold, you can always put on a pair of socks or a sweater or snuggle under a blanket. If you’re hot, you’re just sweating and that ain’t cute.
So I realize that my bedmate has totally stolen ALL the covers! As if this isn’t crisis enough, when I put my hand down on the blanket that is not only over him, but wrapped under him, I immediately jerk my hand back. That blanket is FREEZING — like, so cold it’s almost like someone poured water on it and then stuck it in the freezer.
Oh shit. No. No fucking way. So in a panic, I’m running my hands all under my body, on the bed to verify that I peed the bed. But no… Nope. It ain’t me. I can see the darkened edges of a puddle under the lump of shitty bedmate next to me and I jab him in the ribs.
“HEY! Oh my god. HEY!”
He mumbled something that I didn’t really understand.
“Dude. I totally think you peed my bed.”
He shot upright in the bed, rubbing his eyes and turning crimson. Of course, I was quite enamored with this joker and so I’m all, “It’s okay! It happens!” Seriously though, WHO PEES THE BED??
He lept up and started stripping my bed. I tried to help, but he was insistent that he do this alone. “You shouldn’t have to worry about such things.”
So true. So very true. While he furiously scrubbed my mattress with a bleach solution, I went and took a long hot shower.
No related posts.
Ouch!
But you know, he gets a few hundred points for the way in which he dealt with it. That’s actually really sweet. Better if he hadn’t, obviously, but if it had to happen… that’s how I’d want him to deal with it.
And, maybe I could be swayed by having baconandpancakesandmaplesyrup made for me as breakfast… ;)
Did you guys keep in contact after that? Or was it the death knell for the relationship?
No, we stayed in contact for about a month after that. Ultimately, the distance was too great.
(Forgot to add: Wandered here from DW. I mean, who can resist a blog called Freak Bacon?!)
Also here via DW /via Hollis Gillespie (taking her blogging class tomorrow.) I’ve been single for over 8 years now, and let me tell you, it’s the best. I’m over 50, raised three great kids, suffered through hellish marriages and tortuous relationships and have come to the conclusion that I am a crazy magnet and I have exited the game. I’ve never had such peace and joy before. I never shave my legs unless it’s a very special occasion or if I’m going to be wearing shorts in the summer (rarely – who wants to see my stark white legs and wrinkled knees, really?) All the women I know who are my age and married are barely tolerating the idiots they find themselves lashed to. When we were in our 20s all we cared about is if he had nice hair and could play the guitar. The ability and willingness to hold a job were not something we ever considered in the mix.
I love Date Wrecks because it so succinctly states the case about what’s really going on out there. Forget the airbrushed Match.com ads. Most of the men, especially the men my age, on those sites are liars, or just goddamned freaks. I tried Match.com, Yahoo Personals, Perfect Match and yes, the dreaded and dreadful Plenty of Fish. Face it, men my age are like parking spaces – all the good ones are taken and the only ones left are handicapped. Reeeeeeaaaaaally handicapped.
I’ve seen too many episodes of Dateline and too many Lifetime movies to think that Mr. Right is out there just waiting for me to be his soulmate. Forget that shit! I eat when I want, spend my money on what I want, do what I want – why fuck that up?? The widder lady should count her blessings that she got one good guy in her life. I shudder to think of what she’ll find out there on the internet. If reading Date Wrecks didn’t make her say, “Well, I think I’ll just put on my fuzzy socks and have a bowl of Cheerios for dinner and call it a day!” then I don’t know what would.
The soulmate myth is a load of crap, like Halle Berry getting her pre-baby abs back in six weeks! I’m glad you handed Date Wrecks on to someone else instead of just closing it down. People need to know what’s really out there and be able to protect themselves from the Noah’s Ark two-by-two mentality. I mean, I’m glad you found a guy you want to marry, but he’s like an iPhone – really cool to have and fun to play with, but not a necessity. But you knew that.
I love your sense of humor, your writing is terrific! Thanks for giving me some side-splitting laughs for the last 2 1/2 hours when I was supposed to be building a website. I see you use the Genesis framework for WP – you need a favicon, girl. A website without a favicon is like peanut butter without chocolate! JMHO. Get the Genesis favicon plug in. God, I have to quit drinking coffee and go to bed. Shit. I’ve got to go to a blogging workshop tomorrow morning! Cheers!
You’re right! I do need a Favicon… You know, the cobbler’s children have corns on their feet. Or however the phrase goes.
Thanks for your words of encouragement. I’m happy to see you embracing the life that you want. xo
OH! And tell Hollis I said HELLO!