Update on the Fucktard

So, after mulling over an email to the Fucktard in response to his assholish behavior, I sent this simple message via his internet dating profile:

"It's very clear to me that you made your decision in whether you would like to see me again.  For me, hindsight is 20/20 and I wish I had made a different decision when sleeping with you.  I wish you the very best in your future ventures.  Take Care."

I always try to be nice...but the 20/20 dig made me smile a little. 

The Fucktard contacted me last night.  I heard my phone ringing from across the apartment so, as per my usual self, I ran to it only to be grossed out with the face on the screen.  I "declined" to answer and sent him to voicemail, then forgot about it and went about my nightly business. 

A couple of hours later, I got a text message from him.  It was all cheery and light.  This really does chap my ass.  How dare he?  I didn't respond to him, but he continued to send me texts throughout the night - including offering to help me move this weekend.*

What I am learning is that guys hate to be dumped, especially when they felt they had the upper hand.  It's totally OK for this guy to ignore me for days, then when I make a decision and say "goodbye" he's suddenly all up in my grill?  I'm fairly certain that if I were to just have continued to let things be as they were (ie: no contact), I still would be waiting to hear from him. 

This reminds me of my friend who claims that men LIKE to be treated like shit.  I think it's that whole hunter mentality.   

*Disclaimer: I'm seriously considering caving in and letting him help.  I have big furniture and having a guy's muscles there would really come in handy.  However, this would mean I would have to put the past behind us (not IN my behind!) and subsequently, allow him to see where my new place is.  Not sure if that all is worth the manpower I would get out of it.

An officer and a...gentleman?

Two weeks ago I started fielding messages from a guy who not only didn't have a picture, but also didn't have much to say on his profile.  When those faced with those two none-specific things, I mentally ignore.  He kept coming at me unrelentlessly until one day he enclosed a picture of himself along with "now that you see me, can you please let me take you out on a date?" 

Fact of the matter was...he was cute.  Very cute in fact.  I did reply with an apology for not sending a reply and seeming like a snob - but as a rule of thumb I don't interact with those I can not "see," and therefore, since he sent me his picture, we could now converse.  LOL.  We did.  It was fun.  He ended up being a really nice guy. 

He asked me out to dinner on a Friday and I suggested drinks instead.  I'm not sure why, because I like to eat!  I think that in the back of my head I thought that he may be too good to be true.  Funny, isn't it?  I didn't even meet him yet and I was already stacking the cards against him.  What I need to realize is that a girl's instincts are never wrong.  Never.  But, more on that later.

Our date was fun.  We sat in a booth and talked for hours.  He's a military guy which makes him very serious and it became my mission to try to get him to crack a smile.  I succeeded!  A couple of times!  I know that I am a good flirt, especially when it comes to situations that are one-on-one, but I was really feeling an instant attraction to this guy.  He kept touching my hand on top of the table and played with the ring on my finger.  And, you know what?  It felt GOOD.  There was no subconscious comparison going on.  My phone was buried in my purse, on silent and I didn't even check it once!  Even when he went to the bathroom and left me at our booth alone!  I seriously didn't want the date to end, but like every bar in this town, they called "last call" as soon as we really started to talk about the deep stuff. 

He walked me to my car.  We kissed.  He invited me over to his jeep and we talked a little bit more then made out a lot!  I *almost* invited him over that night, but was a good girl.  LOL

On the way home, he texted.
As I crawled into bed, he texted.
When I woke up in the morning, he texted.
All weekend long, we were texting.  He told me that he felt a really strong connection with me and that he was excited to what the future would hold.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I would wake up to a text at 4am (the start of his workday).

On Wednesday I asked him if he wanted to grab a bite to eat.  We did.  And followed the meal up with a couple of cocktails.  I threw caution to the wind and invited him over and I let biology take over.  There was (good) sex, snuggling, kissing at the door on my stoop and a date planned for the next Friday - two days away, to go to the drive-in for a three movie marathon the last weekend they were opened. 

And, then I didn't hear from him. 

So, basically...I gave it up too quickly.  He obviously got what he was after.   

Friday afternoon he texted me and told me that he was sick.  I asked him what was wrong and didn't get a response.  That's considered a stand up, in my humble opinion.  I didn't hear from him again until Sunday night, when he revealed that he had strep throat.  It's really hard not to feel sorry for someone who has strep because that is one nasty sickness.  I was concerned for him and tried to convey that - but really in the back of mind I was thinking "Dude.  Strep throat doesn't stop your fingers from texting!"  Am I wrong to admit that I was angry and disappointed that he didn't even contact me?  Am I wrong to admit that I started questioning myself as a woman with feelings because this seemingly happened after we fucked?  You don't fuck a girl, then not call her and think that feelings won't be destroyed, regardless if you were sick or not, unless you're a total asshole, right?!

This guy went from sweetness to fucktard in a couple of days. 

Instincts...I'm listening to you from now on because honestly, my heart just can't take it anymore.

Reflection

A couple of weeks ago I met a lawyer after work for dinner and drinks.  It was a lovely date...a beautiful restaurant, nice bottle of wine, interesting conversation and a sweet kiss at the end.  The guy is semi accomplished as a bankruptcy lawyer, is well spoken and looks a lot like Matt Damon from some angles, but as the weeks passed I realized that...I just wasn't into him. 

He didn't do anything particularly creepy.  He wasn't too aggressive or forward.  I'm simply not attracted to him. 

I find myself in these situations quite often.  Guys look great on paper, and then I meet them and there's absolutely no spark, either mentally or physically or both.  It's frustrating, and it's hard to talk to my friends about it because I get accused of being too picky and not giving people a chance.  I often worry about that because I am quick to move on to the next prospect.  I'm trusting my insticts...but I'm also making a mental comparison against these seemingly good guys. 

I have what I consider a "perfect man" (for me) in my head.  My ultimate boyfriend, let's say.  When I think of this imaginary person, I actually envision a face of someone who is very special to me...a guy who I've been involved with for three years now...a guy who is married and never leaving his wife.  It's true.  I compare potential suitors to a man that will never actually be my suitor because he's what makes me feel like a million bucks when times are good.  Even though he has several issues of his own (besides being a married man who cheats) I still have a hard time looking past that and seeing other guys for who they are, or may become over time.

When I started dating my ex many moons ago, I was not immediately in love with him.  He was fun, and funny and could hold a conversation even though he couldn't retain said conversation worth shit!  As we hung out more I could feel myself falling for him.  I know that is the natural progression of things, and yet now...I can't seem to get through that second date without wanting to run for the hills.

I wonder if I am actually ready for a relationship or if I'm just dating to date because society tells me that every woman should have a man?  I wonder if I continue to have this relationship with someone who in unattainable because I know subconsciencely that I don't have to worry about being his girlfriend and all the stress that comes from that.  It's like I'm attached...but not.  I still have someone asking me how my day was and being attentive to my physical needs, yet not have to ask permission or justify the time I spend with my friends.  Unfortunately, the catch 22 is that I do want someone to spend holidays with, bring home to meet mom and spend my nights with.

Thinking about all of this is quite frustrating and eye opening.  I don't really like that person that I seem to have become.  That girl who is easily satisfied with having a long term affair.  That girl who lies to herself that it's totally OK - because it's not.  I want and deserve more, but I'm not letting myself have it.

Sigh.

The biggest ASSHOLE move I've ever experienced

If you go out with a guy, have a great time, make out with him in his car in the parking lot and accidently leave your necklace in said car...don't be surprised that when you ask him to send it to you (after not hearing from him since that night), that a postcard arrives from the United States Postal Service telling you they have your envelope and need $1.14. 

SERIOUSLY DUDE?! 

You couldn't pick up the dollar and change postage? 

I so need the interwebs to help me with a response to send to him. 

Is a free meal worth the price of a bad date?

Causal dating, in general, makes me feel like a whore.  (And the fact that this subject is coming after my last post of true whore-like behavior says something.) 

Yesterday, I was challenged to "be spontaneous" and meet some guy who was flirting with me all day, out for dinner and drinks at the restaurant of my choice.  He had all the warning signs of being a bad date - no profile picture, an out of the area hometown, the fact that he listed his relationship status as separated and is not looking for a relationship of any kind with an intention to hang out.  Basically, the dude is looking to get laid.  His replies to my basic questions gave me douche chills, in a very bad way, and I was just about to block him from my life forever when...

...my stomach growled.

Yep, you heard that right. 

My decision to go on this date was purely based on wanting to eat on someone else's dime.  Yes, I am using random guys for dinner and beer.

It pulls at my insides a little that women can get away with such bullshit and men (usually) can't.  Truth of the matter is, I feel like a total whore without the sex (unless he's hot, and I'm unusually horny, my place is clean and my legs are shaved.  Hey...it's been known to happen once, or twice - and couple other times, which I haven't written about - with mixed results).  

Does it make it any better that I will always pick a pub that has cheap, but tasty, food and drink?  How about the fact that I will do my best to not only enjoy myself, but make sure that the guy is laughing and feeling comfortable as well?  How about the fact that I do keep an open mind and will accept another date, if the guy exceeds my relatively low expectation that I have of him - because you never know where the love lightening will strike?  Or that I almost always offer to split the bill, unless the guy is a total asshat - which in that case...the $20 you just spent on me was totally earned.  How about that I always offer up a very genuine "thank you" and close contact hug at our parting, if I don't take him home and hump his brains out? 

I also happen to wonder when the act of getting to know someone over food and drink became an invitation, or expectation, for sex?  Should I really feel badly that someone is shelling out $20 bucks to spend time with me?!  He has to eat too!!!  I'm doing him a favor, so he doesn't have to dine alone!  (And, maybe cockblocking him from someone who will fuck a tard on the first date.)  And really...if I am going to allow that - you better believe I would be ordering the filet mignon and not a burger! 

Last night's date wasn't horrible.  He did make me laugh, but there was no physical attraction.  I was upfront and did tell him that he wouldn't be getting in my pants - which did make him chuckle and admit that the thought had entered his mind from the moment that we started chatting via email.  At the end of the date, he told me that he would text me the next time he was in town.  I gently reminded him that I didn't give him my number, so he'd have to continue to use the dating site to contact me.  We hugged, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, thanked him for dinner and we went our separate ways.

1+2=3

I was a willing participant in something I thought I would never do.  Like, never in a gazillion years NEVER.  I was the lady in an all-man sandwich.

Several months ago the opportunity presented itself in a very strange and freaky way, which I didn't see coming, or did I appreciate at the time.  It was so ridiculous that I can laugh about it now, thank goodness.  I met up with this guy at his place for some Chinese and a movie.  Long story short - at some point in the night, this dude's cousin came over.  We moved into the bedroom and while he was giving it to me from behind I looked up and the cousin was standing in the doorway, dick-in-hand and pants on the floor.  I screamed, covered myself up and told the cousin to get out.  Naturally, I did what any horny girl would do - made sure the door was locked and continued playing.  (Thinking back on it now, I should've checked the closet too.  I bet you money that someone was hiding in there...crazy exhibitionist that this guy was.)   

So the other night, I get a booty text from the Cub.  "Whoo-hoo!  I'm totally going to have sex with the Cub again!"  Now, I have not heard from that boy in months, even though I think of him and his ginormous penis nightly.  He asked me to meet him at his friend's place, where we would then go and get some drinks and then I would take him home and use him all night long.  He obviously didn't get the memo that I hatched in my head. 

And ultimately, I got his memo about 10 minutes after entering his buddy's place - who just happened to be Mr. Wingman himself from our first date. 

I think I got about 30 texts on the ride over to his buddy's place.  "How long till you get here?"  "I can't wait to see you again."  "Are you here yet?"  When I arrived, my Cub was waiting for me at the door as excited as a kid at Christmas.  I was going to hug him hello, but he beat me to the punch by planting the nicest kiss on my mouth, which totally took my breath away, then proceeded to pick me up, throw me over his shoulder and carried me up the stairs, with my ass hanging out of my dress!  I collected myself and sat down in a chair between the couch that the Cub ended up on and another couch that the Wingman was sprawled out on. 

It's funny how things evolve.  We sat there talking for a couple of minutes when the Cub motioned for me to sit next on his lap.  When I got up, so did the Wingman and it went in a crazy direction from there.  I suddenly had two hot guy's hands all over my body, my dress was up and over in my head in about 3 seconds flat.  Standing there in my underthings in front of two hard bodies was very intimidating, and if had not been dark in that apartment I probably would've burst out crying. 

There were rules: condoms must be used, no anal play AT ALL, and nothing too rough.

As sexy as I imagined a 3-some would be, in reality, it wasn't.  It was awkward, weird and uncomfortable.  Handling two penises is hard.  (Pardon the pun.)  I tried not to show favoritism, but when you have an incredible freak of nature in one hand, and a limp sausage in the other - this homegirl will throw the limp sausage aside!  I don't blame the Wingman for not being able to get it up at first, I mean...there's another dude in your bed, you can see what he's packing and it doesn't compare to yours, plus you're kind of forced to touch his leg or arm from time to time as bodies adjusted.  I could tell that he was a total homophobe, but even so, I wasn't going to take him by the hand and show him the ropes! 

Things that happened that I was not too thrilled about:
1. Sweat dripping on me from two guys.  I seriously wanted to vomit at one point.
2. I did get it in the ass..."accidentally," by the Cub. 
3. I yelled and screamed and ran to the bathroom.
4. I left my favorite bra behind.

One thing that I think was a totally awesome playa move on my part, I managed to sneak out while they were both asleep.  As the filling between the bread, I had to carefully slide myself down the bed without waking the two guys, grab my stuff that was scattered all over the freakin place and get out - all in the dark in a place I was unfamiliar with.  I'm happy to say that it was a success...but the real success came in knowing that I left two naked guys in a bed together! 

The following text pretty much sums up the whole experience, with what my girlfriends have to say about 3-somes:

Me: I had a 3-some.
Friend: It's about time. 
Me: LOL.  It was super awkward.
Friend: With who?
Me: The Cub and his friend.
Friend: 2 dicks?!  It's much sexier when it's 2 women! 

Hands are important to me

I am astonished at the variety of different types of hands there are on this planet.  Weird, right?  Well, looking back into my dating vault, I've rejected a couple of dates based on the size and shape of their hands and digits.

Shallow, much?

Well...yes.  But, how are you supposed to envision yourself being romantic with someone if the thought of their minuscule hands being on your body makes you want to vomit?  You can't.  It's impossible.  This may rank up there as being as ridiculous as the guy who detests public hair, it's one of my personal deal breakers.  You can't have chick hands, and you must have all of your fingers.  Period. 

So, it's interesting and funny in a non-haha way (at the time) that I have gone on dates with guys who have had chick hands, and didn't have all their fingers. 

A man's hands should be strong.  They should hold a firm hand shake.  They should be bigger than mine.  A callus or two certainly doesn't hurt in my book, but you know, please keep them from scraping the floor when you stand upright.  They should not be moisturized or manicured or any of that shit!

I went out with a dude that was incredibly good looking, in a very rugged way.  We met for dinner at a local pub, and it didn't matter that he was employed, smart and put together - his hands were the size of the guy in the BK Jr. Whopper commercial!  Not only were they tiny, but his fingernails were practically non-existent.  I almost thought that they were a transplant, but he was wearing short sleeves and had no scars to confirm otherwise.  (You bet your ass I checked.)  He had to pick up his half-sandwich panini with two hands.  Suddenly, his charm and wit were lost on me. 

Do these make you horny?

I met up with a guy for happy hour and 10 cent chicken wings.  Yes, it was a cheap date - but I'm not a gold digger that's all about the benjamins!  I was actually looking forward to being casual and messy and ultimately being silly in front of a guy when inevitable he'd tell me that I somehow had hot sauce smeared across my forehead.  (How does that happen?!  I use napkins!) 

We ordered a couple of beers and talked for a bit before our wings arrived, hot and fresh from the fryer.  I ate two before I saw this guy licking wing sauce off his HALF A THUMB!  Gross man.  Don't you think if you had half a thumb, you might prepare your date - either with a kick ass story about how it happened, or some kind of pre-meeting explanation?  I know I certainly wouldn't sit there licking it over and over, like it was some kind of baby penis you were giving head to.  Of course, the thumb licker was also a douchebag, so throwing $10 bucks on the table to cover my $4 bill was incredibly generous of me...when I decided to get the fucking hell out of there with an excuse of having to feed my dog. 

I hate that I now have to add "Take a look at your hands...do they belong on your arms?" as one of the pre-screening questions I have to ask potential suitors, along with "Are you married?" and "Do you have a criminal record?"