After the end of a 9-year relationship, I hit the dating sites hard, without any real clue what I was looking for. Company, commiseration, etc. This resulted in a string of fruitless dates, some lame, some sketchy, some quite good and some drunkenly disastrous.
Now, a little background info on me: I’m a good girl in the eyes of law, no record, no arrests, no desire to do anything that would jeopardize my stable and well-paying job. I’m actually somewhat classy when it comes to revealing personal/private details too soon and I almost always put other people first. Relatively conservative when it comes to dating and sleeping around. Somewhat shy but working on coming out of my shell. Oh yeah, and at this point my emotional structure is damaged due the demise of what I thought would be my ‘last’ relationship with the 9 year fellow.
MVWD was actually a 3rd date with B. But – the 1st date is worth mentioning. We meet at a local restaurant. We both drink, so we end up sitting at the bar, chatting the night away and sucking down oysters. This guy is tall, strong, with a hypnotic voice and he’s just absolutely beautiful and talks his fool head off, and I’m instantly smitten despite the fact that he admitted right away that he A) had been in jail for robbing a local bank and gunpoint, (fake gun), because he B) had a gambling addiction, and C) he also seemed to be addicted to getting engaged to past loves. So despite those items, first date ended cutely, and second date soon after commenced.
Date 2 – he comes to my townhouse and spackles/re-paints some holes in my wall, fixes my door, and we nerd out to funny stuff on Youtube and whittle down a handle of Bacardi with my roommate. Lots of laughter and comedy, both of which I really needed. Later in the day we go meet some of my friends on the beach and have a great old time. He blends in perfectly with my people and overall is just seeming so awesome thus far. Even though it’s unlike me, we have racy relations in my car, moon roof open, parked at the beach, and again – I AM SMITTEN. I guess love adventure, what can I say. And at this point, in my opinion, this dude is perfect for me. He spends the night and was so at ease at my house, showering, making breakfast and joking with me and the roomie.
Date 3 – I drive up to his town for some Karaoke; the plan is that I will stay the night at his house because the drive home is an hour long and I intended to be drinking. I get there, he’s with friends, one of whom is also recently divorced after 8 years. I try to be polite and pay some attention to each of his friends, and actually I hardly talk to B at all, he’s busy singing and chatting with folks.
The night is ok so far, and at this point we are all pretty wasted from margaritas, and when I do see B he is grabbing and bouncing my breasts around in front of all these friends of his, mostly men. At one point he lifts my skirt up and tries to show them my ‘sweet ass.’ Mind you, we are in a restaurant. He then proceeds to tell his friends about our car sex and my lack of orgasm. I’m semi-mortified now, and try to chat with his buddies and somehow redeem myself.
We all go to a bar across the street and all hell breaks loose. As soon as we all walk in, B disappears to greet EVERYONE in the pub, as he knows them all. Doesn’t introduce me to any of them. So I grab one of his friends and we put some money on the pool table and are waiting to play.
I don’t see B for the better part of an hour, he’s bouncing around the pub being social and I’m fine with it. Actually having a good time lamenting with his recently divorced friend J. I even run into some of my friends, and as J and I are chatting with them, B storms up, drags me into a corner and starts to chastise me about not paying attention to him. But he couldn’t admit it that way, but rather accuses me of paying TOO much attention to his other friends, J in particular, and goes on and on quite loudly about how ‘He doesn’t chase’. This lasted about ten minutes and then he tells me to just go the F#*k home.
I’m drunk, I’m in shock at how he’s treated me, and my car is across the highway. I leave the pub, sit outside and try to make sense of it all. I take off my heels and before attempting to cross the highway I head back into the pub to see if things have cooled down and to pay my tab. B yells at me again, accusing me of avoiding eye contact all night and being a whore. I’m in tears and storm out of the bar; he follows, again telling me to just go home. I stumble across the highway and into my car, where I proceed to bawl and drunk dial my ex, who tries his best to talk me down. After an hour or so of blubbering and trying to sober up, I drive home.