Drunk in Love

Day drinking is dangerous. Sometimes you end up hung over by 5pm, sometimes you end up banging your 22-year-old waiter in his mom’s basement.

My sister and I had had a particularly rough week so we decided to meet up for some buffalo cauliflower and sangria. Two pitchers of sangria later we had gotten pretty friendly with our waiter who was relatively new to the area. I don’t remember how it came up but he mentioned that he would want to hang out with us sometime and get drinks, so I gave him my number in the least creepy way it could possibly be when you’re giving your random waiter your number, so we could all hang out sometime. We decided to go to a cheaper bar down the street and said he was welcome to meet us there if he was going to get cut any time soon.

Making new friends is super awkward especially in a situation like that. I was mostly just trying to be friendly, and I honestly didn’t expect to hear from him ever again, to be honest, I thought he was probably going to think I was super creepy for giving him my number even though I didn’t have any intentions beyond friendship. It only took about 20 minutes for him to text me and ask if we had made it to the other pub yet. He met us there a couple of hours later. I wasn’t expecting him to meet us there, and I really wasn’t expecting him to sit next to me and start playing footsie under the table with me either,

I had barely rolled out of bed that morning, I hadn’t done laundry in three weeks, I was wearing my last resort mom jeans, no makeup, and my hair was so full of dry shampoo that the only thing I could do with it was wearing it in a shitty bun on top of my head. I wasn’t even wearing deodorant because I had just gotten all my waxing done, my eyebrows were probably still red. But here I was sitting in a bar looking like one step above a people of Walmart submission and this hot 22 year old is rubbing my leg under the table.

To be clear from the minute we left the restaurant my sister was convinced that he was trying to hook up with me, or her, or both of us. Shes married so I was really the only feasible option. I just thought we were going to have the next greatest friendship story, that is not what happened.

I don’t really remember a lot of the details  that led up to me leaving the bar with him that night, but judging by my texts from my sister from that day I know that she “didn’t want to cock block me”, which she certainly didn’t if anything she was the cock enabler, world-class wing woman. Anyway, the next thing I knew I was in this kids moms basement having the type of sex you would expect to have with a 22-year-old, and when I came out of his bathroom I was face to face with his 12-year-old brother which was somehow more awkward than it would’ve been if I had come face to face with his mom.

When it was over he dropped me off at my car and went to go sell weed, which was exactly the thing I would expect a 22-year-old to do after banging some almost 30-year-old woman. All of this happened before 8pm…on a Wednesday.

There is one lesson here for sure, my mom always tells me that I need to stop leaving the house looking like I just ended an 8-month long bender because you never know who you’re going to run into. If this situation didn’t prove her right I don’t know what will.

while he really is a nice enough guy and super good looking I just can’t picture myself having enough in common with him to continue anything beyond a strictly platonic friendship and since we have already crossed that bridge I don’t really think there is any going back from that. I have one male friend that I was able to have a platonic friendship with after we had sex, but that happened a couple years later and after a long time of having no contact with him, and there is still always that awkward element of having seen each other naked within our friendship.

I guess you could say that restaurant really gave me some more bang for my buck than I was intending that day.  I guess you could also say that depending on how this plays out my sister and I probably need to find a new restaurant halfway between our house to meet.

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I’m not going to meet my husband on tinder, or POF, or OkCupid- or any of those other websites for that matter. I mean- I wouldn’t be against it, and I wouldn’t shut down the possibility of a real relationship, but lets be real tinder and all those other dating aps are meant specifically for hookups. It’s just that I spent so much time over the past two years getting lame dick when I could have been asleep that I really don’t have the patience for it anymore. For real most of these guys couldn’t achieve a female orgasm if we came with an instructional video and a map. It got incredibly boring, and since I haven’t lived in this city very long and haven’t managed to make many friends  I started getting kind of lonely. After my 957th lame hookup I deleted the ap, but after a breif hiatus I got bored again- this time for different reasons so I decided to re download  and approach tinder differently, and actually date- something I have never done.

Since ending my hoe phase I’ve probably been going on 3-5 dates a week. Most of them were ok, just not people I wanted to see again (example: a 28 year old man still living at home because he “didn’t feel like paying bills”) or maybe the timing was off, or the initial date was great but the guy wound up being a huge flake.

Flakiness is one of my biggest pet peeves, seriously there’s  nothing worse than a guy who starts out really good but then can’t follow through with anything after the first date. Like I am a pretty understanding girl and I get that things come up but if you just blatantly bail on me or  frequently cancel or reschedule at the last possible minute I am not going to keep seeing you- no one is that busy that they can’t have common decency, if your that guy then really your just kind of a dick.

thumbnail (1)I also can’t stand guys who think that just because they spend an hour with you or buy you a couple drinks that they are entitled to sex. I got a message from a 33 year old man a couple weeks ago which was basically an overly worded version of him telling me that he would like to take me on a date but if he were to take me on a date he would expect some sort of sexual compensation – for example a hand job- to prove that I wasn’t just using him for free drinks or as a time filler. Yes- you did read that- a grown ass man asked for a middle school hand job in order to take me on a date. Like no thanks bro, I can buy my own drinks.

I want to preface this by saying that I’m not a paranoid person, but I also don’t want a CSI episode written based on my untimely death, and there’s only so many times I could’ve borrowed my neighbors stun gun before she started to question what I was really doing three to five nights a week that required a stun gun. And since I am literally summoning men from the internet to meet me in bars there is no guarantee that I won’t wind up in a dumpster so you really can’t be to careful because you just don’t know what your going to run into.

I once had to have the police tell a tinder guy to stop harassing me  (he literally sent 500drink-e1524011504368.jpg texts in one day and when i blocked his number he called me 65 times from a private number and left a bunch of crazy voicemails) so now I always make sure I share my location with a couple of people and for the most part I try to bring all first dates to the same two restaurants. One is a pricier restaurant that I really enjoy- where I sort of know a bartender well enough that he  would notice if something was wrong. I really only bring guys there if I feel like they would enjoy the experience and if I have enough cash in my budget to go halves because it is on the expensive side and I wouldn’t feel right going there with the expectation that he would pay for a 100$ meal for a girl he barely knows, isn’t going to get laid by, and chances are will only maybe see one or two more times before things fizzle out. The other bar is a more casual place with 5$ cocktails and a huge beer selection – cheap enough where I don’t mind paying for my own drinks if I have to and my friends boyfriend is a bartender there. I also feel like I have frequented that bar enough over the past year that people working there would probably notice if something was going terribly wrong, plus they have the best nachos in the city.

So with all those dates I figured someone had to have noticed that I am there usually sitting in exactly the same bar stool with  several different guys a week. I was actually starting to feel a little insecure about it, so much so that I had recently posted on facebook “how many dates can I bring to the same bar before the staff starts to notice- asking for a friend”. Most people figured they probably had noticed by now, but I got the real answer last weekend at my birthday party. I don’t care that I’m almost 30 I celebrate my birthday for pretty much an entire week.

I started my birthday weekend by getting wine and cheese and chocolate at that niceish restaurant that I bring some of my dates to with one of my friends from home. We got pretty friendly with our waiter and talked about some of our dating experiences. The next night a bunch of us went bowling and then out to the bars after. A couple of the waitstaff at the bar I bring most of my dates to were there and since my friend knew just about everyone  we started talking to them and I jokingly asked if they had noticed yet how many different dates i take to that restaurant. They do, and they eavesdrop and pretty much take bets (fair) and make sure the guy I’m with isn’t going to murder me, and for the most part they all think I can do much better than some of the guys I’ve been out with. I also ran into my waiter from the previous night who remembered me and my friend (first and last names) and gave me a code word to use to let him know if I was ever in trouble on a date, so that he could help me get out of it.

To be honest, these are the most comforting things anyone’s ever told me. It’s not that I don’t believe I can do better than most of the guys I’ve been going out with, but in a world that thinks you should settle because its better than being alone and I’m not getting any younger its nice to hear that, because as a person who did settle for 10 years for treated worse than shit by the men I was with because she had low self-esteem. I know for a fact that settling is not worse than being alone. That being alone and being alone is significantly better than being alone and being with someone. So its nice to hear that strangers think I can do better than most of these tinder idiots who for the most part are only slightly less lazy than the guys I spent the last two years just hooking up with because at the very least they will take a girl on a proper date before expecting to get laid.  But the most comforting part of all of it is knowing that despite the fact that I am at least an hour away from most of my friends and family there are still people out there who would notice and step in if something was going on wrong. It made me feel not quite so alone in a city where for the past year- even though I have been having alot of fun- I have felt pretty lonely and that was probably the best birthday gift that I got this year.

Harlot

So every once in a while I go on what I think is the worst date I have ever been on. First there was the guy who called me a racist because of the town I grew up in (which by the way is not a racist town at all…??) and practically yelled at me because it was our second date and I wasn’t gonna bang him, Then there was the lion- who told me he wouldn’t tolerate coffee consumption because “thats an addiction”, and lastly there was the guy who never got his drivers license because of 9/11. They were not bad guys just really weird. But my date from last Thursday definitely won the gold medal when it comes to the dating Olympics.

He had been messaging me on and off for a couple weeks. He’d start a conversation and then disappear for a week or two, come back and pick up where he left off. I mentioned I was newish to the city and he offered to show me around, I figured it couldn’t hurt to see some new bars. I had been sort of sick to my stomach all day when he asked me if I wanted to get a drink with him. Despite the fact that I wasn’t feeling that great I agreed to go out with him. I figured I could be miserable at home by myself or I could go out and grab a drink- it wasn’t like I was going to feel any better whether I stayed at home or not.

We agreed to meet at 7- I even texted him at 630 to confirm that we were meeting at 7, so I was more than a little annoyed when he texted me at 7:05 to tell me he was 8 minutes away. I considered leaving, but I had put on real pants and makeup and I already had a drink so I figured the least he could do was pay for my drink if he was going to be almost 20 minutes late.

I assumed he was probably coming from work which would have been a reasonable excuse, I get held up at work all the time- I don’t usually wait until 5 minutes after I was supposed to be there to let someone know, but I consider myself to be an extra considerate person. I found out this wasn’t the case when he informed me that he was on disability and hadn’t had a job since 2004. I try hard to not be judgmental about people on disability but dude- you could have at least shown up to the date on time since you and I both know you weren’t at work. Things are going ok- they weren’t terrible, but he was alot older than his profile said he was, he hadn’t worked in a very long time, had no long or short term goals, and he had a criminal record. He just wasn’t the type of person I saw  a future with, but I was already there so I figured I would just see this one through.

At about the same point that I realized there was not gonna be a second date he tells me hes going to “go outside and bum some cigarettes”.  My 36 year old date then drags me outside in the cold to bum cigarettes from people smoking behind the bar. Everyone has their vices, I get it- but at 36 years old you should be able to support your own habits. At this point it becomes clear that I am probably paying for my own drinks. He asks me if I want to head to a different bar he wants to show me. I say sure, to be honest I don’t know why I didn’t end the date at this point- I still wasn’t feeling well, and I wasn’t having a particularly good time, but I’m a really nice person and he was having a good time so we paid our separate tabs and head to the next bar.

We get to the other bar and it turns out hes a regular there. He starts sharing stories with the other patrons, and I am feeling super out of place. We stay for an hour or so and then he tells me to grab the tab. I end up paying the tab for the last two drinks. So to recap- he’s bumming cigarettes, I paid for my own drinks at the first bar, and both of our drinks at the second bar.

I really should have gone home after that. But if were being honest I really needed to get laid, and I’m having minor surgery at the end of the month that will put me out of sexual commission for a few weeks so I figure I would seize the opportunity to get it in with someone I didn’t worry about impressing to much and didn’t plan to ever talk to again. He takes me back to his apartment on the other side of the city and we start getting down to business when all of a sudden my stomach ache gets worse. I start feeling really sick and tell him that I wasn’t feeling well and that I need to leave. He tells me its late and I should stay the night plus “he wants to keep banging”. I again reiterate that I am not feeling well and am going home. He disappears into the bathroom and I hear the shower running. So at this point I figure its pretty clear to him that I am not feeling well and I am leaving. I pack up my stuff put on my clothes and leave. 10 minutes later I get a barrage of angry texts about how I “just dipped” “wtf is wrong with you” and my personal favorite “your tits aren’t that great I was interested in your personality but that just went down the toilet good fn luck maybe you should try not going home with people the first night if your gonna be a whore and leave”. Like DUDE first of all calm down, your dick game was mediocre at best. Second of all did you want me to projectile vomit all over your studio apartment? What did he expect I was gonna do? “Be a whore” and move in as opposed to be a whore and leave? He didn’t even wait for a response he blocked my number and unmatched me faster than he turned that bar tab over for me to pay.

I mean I guess in hindsight I probably should have just thrown up in his bed. Like hey dude I’m having a bad night and now so are you- but I really thought leaving was the appropriate way to deal with it, and I really don’t know how much more clear I could have been. Not that I really care what an almost 40 year old who cant even pay for his own drinks thinks of me, it was more that I just couldn’t believe that this grown ass man was throwing a literal temper tantrum via text messages. I guess the moral of this story is if he’s lame in the streets hes gonna be lame in the sheets and hes probably going to call you a whore.

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