I met M through a dating service. His description: tall, brown hair, loved the outdoors, enjoyed wine festivals, art, football and basketball, and enjoyed exercising. The person that walked through the door on the day of our did not match that description. He was tall but was completely bald and although he may have worked out in the past, it had to be at least five years prior. But I thought maybe he was a match personality-wise. Sadly, no. His version of loving the outdoors was four-wheeling and his hobbies included collecting and shooting machine guns.

He also lived with his parents. There’s nothing wrong with living with your parents when you’re growing up or even for a few years in your twenties. My experience has led me to believe that guys who live with their parents tend to expect the women in their lives to take over the role of mommy. Maybe there are ladies who dream of washing his clothing, making all their meals, and generally catering to his every desire but I am not one of them. The last straw for me was sadly none of these things. I have a dog I adore. I previously thought most guys would dig a chick with a dog, but this was not the case with M.

After he revealed that his careers included bail bondsman and proprietor of a liquor store, and talked in detail about his personal weapon arsenal, I told him I really had to get going as I had to go feed my dog. His response was that I should think about euthanizing my dog so that I could go out more. I sat there stunned until he chuckled and said it was just a joke and that I really needed to lighten up. I began to question the wisdom of ever dating another man again.