September 2014. I was excited. It was fall; I had spent most of the summer in California and Greece; I had bought my first brand new car; I had shaken off the negative “mansperiences” thus far; and I was starting a new full-time job (thank the fucking lord. I had been working two part time jobs for the last two years and really wanted this position!) I was ready for anything and I felt great. Up until this point I hadn’t paid too much attention to my online accounts. After the Firefighter, I decided to take a hand at online dating for real. So, I started spending time checking out profiles and swiping left and right.
This shit was time consuming as fuck! Checking emails and going through all of the profiles was taking up a lot of my spare time. Being so new to this was fun and exciting…at first.
I had conversations with men here and there, but nothing really happened. Guys mostly just wanted me to send them pictures; and I am sorry, since when was it ok for a complete stranger to send me pictures of their fucking dicks?! I didn’t request it nor do these pictures make me all of a sudden want to jump on and go for a ride. Fuck. I guess it works for some people.
Anyway, one guy I “swiped right” with was the Brick. We chatted pretty regularly. I thought ok, this one’s biting and he’s cute. Let’s see.
He lived in Kitchener. That should’ve been a red flag right there considering that I lived almost two hours away. But I thought to myself, don’t discount someone because of geography, I mean there are lots of long-distance relationships that work out, right?
We chatted for a couple of weeks and then he came out to see me. When the doorbell rang, I was surprised. He was almost an hour early. Fuck me. I had just gotten out of the shower. I threw on some clothes and ran to the door. I was relieved when I opened the door to see that he looked like his photo. He was 5’10, with thick, dark hair; full lips, green eyes and was built like a brickhouse. He sat in my living room while I got ready.
Our sushi lunch date ended up being almost four hours long. We talked about lots of stuff, but ended up going into detail about our previous serious relationships. Our experiences were similar; we had just been a part of broken engagements earlier that year, we had been with our exes for just over six years and the breakups were relatively amicable.
He was a year younger than me. No kids. Had his own vehicle and lived on his own. He had two sisters and two nieces. He didn’t have much of a relationship with his dad or one of his sisters. He had two dogs who he and his ex shared custody of and he worked as a delivery guy for the Brick. He was cute.
He drove me home afterward, walked me to the door and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.
I drove down to see him the following weekend. The drive was long, I smoked the entire time which helped me out. He took me out for dinner to a place called Charcoal’s Steakhouse. I fucking love steak and this place was good! The interior was old, but the ambiance was cozy. We had some wine, stuffed our faces and headed back to his place.
His apartment was clean and tidy which was a pleasant surprise. I usually go into a new guy’s place under the assumption that it will be a pig sty. It was a huge apartment. Two bathrooms, two bedrooms, large living room and kitchen. You could tell he got all of his furniture from the Brick. It was all heavy, dark and masculine. Each room looked like the free flyers you get in the mail. We decided to watch some Netflix and have some drinks. He also pulled a huge jar of chronic from the top of his fridge and rolled a bat. We made out on his couch but that was it. I stayed over but we didn’t fuck. We barely even fooled around.
He made me breakfast in the morning and we hung out for a few hours before I headed home.
I liked him. He seemed nice. I know, most guys are “nice” the first few encounters.
He was good with communication thus far. We talked on the phone almost every day. I liked that.
The next weekend was Thanksgiving. He invited me over for dinner with his family. It threw me off since we had only gone out twice, but fuck, whatever. I agreed.
I baked a bunch of chocolate chip cookies and bought a pecan tart to bring over. I drove down in the early afternoon. When I got there, I was greeted at the door by him and his dogs. They were cute little puppies. His family arrived shortly after. It was his mom, sister, brother-in-law and two nieces. It was a really good afternoon. Everyone was easy to get along with and they loved my cookies. That night he and I had sex for the first time. It was fine. He had a really terrible tribal tattoo that went from his upper arm and shoulder to his shoulder blade. It was the kind that everyone in the 90’s got, that at the time, were badass (yuck). He was a big boy so he was kind of heavy when he laid on top of me, but bearable (pun intended).
From that point on I was over at his place almost every weekend. He worked most Saturdays so I was always going out to see him. We would take his dogs on long walks and spent time with his nieces. I liked him, but the drives down to see him were becoming taxing. He never came down to see me. Any time that we made plans for him to come to my end he always had an excuse. I also wasn’t a huge fan of all the time we spent sitting on the couch while he smoked weed and watched Netflix. I was getting bored. Was this what I had to look forward to? I already experienced an ex whose aspirations at the end each work day was to veg out, smoke weed and sit comatose in front of the TV. Don’t get me wrong, vegging out in front of the TV can be a glorious pass time, but not when it’s every fucking day for hours on end.
He was also not the sharpest tool in the shed. As I got to know him, the more I would say to myself, “this guy is fucking stupid”. For example, we were talking about how old we were and he said he was 32. Ok fine. But then he would say he was born in 1981, the same year as me; which would make him 33. We fucking argued about it. I asked for his license and there it was. Motherfucker was 33 and thought he was a year younger the entire time. I know this sounds trivial, but how does one not know how old they are after the age of 3?
He didn’t have many goals or aspirations in life. He dropped out of school a bunch and quit or was fired from numerous jobs. The more we talked, the more I thought to myself, “why am I wasting my time?”
The sex was good enough, sometimes. His cock was like the rest of his physique – thick. He was an excellent kisser and he was really good at going down; a guaranteed orgasm. If I didn’t initiate other positions, missionary would’ve been standard practice, like the whole fucking time. (But then again, if a man knows how to go down, what other positions are necessary?) This rang true especially when he was stoned, which was frequent. He would move just enough to penetrate, but he was pretty much dead weight. So, sex became infrequent which was shitty for me. I told him I didn’t like what the chronic did to his libido but that didn’t change anything. Again, “why?”
Red flag – why drive almost two hours to date a man who can’t even give up chronic until after you fuck?! He was usually high by the time I arrived at his place. God damn it.
November and December 2014. I only saw him a couple of times; and of course, it was me going to him. He was working overtime, meaning he was working seven days a week and I was supportive of the hustle. He kept telling me that he would make it up to me at Christmas time. I couldn’t wait until he was back to his normal hours. At least we talked every day.
Christmas eve. He came over and had dinner with my family. It was nice but I was annoyed that he didn’t stay over. He invited me to stay at his place and drive me home Christmas morning. I agreed. After dinner and drinks, we left. I fucking love Christmas. I am that person who starts listening to Christmas music the day after Remembrance Day. I bake like a motherfucker, I love the comradery, the decorations, the smells, the movies, friends and family time.
I was woken up Christmas morning to him coming from the bathroom with a plastic bag from the Bay and a M.A.C. bag, you know ladies, the black paper bag you get when you buy something from their store. He didn’t even wrap my fucking gifts. He had all of these other gifts under his tree wrapped and ready. He obviously bought my shit before coming to see me the night before. I know that it’s not about the gifts, but motherfucker, you couldn’t find 5 minutes to wrap the teeny eyeshadow brush and perfume you bought me!? Throw it in a fucking Dollartree Christmas paper-bag with some tissue and call it a day. I mean you were already at the fucking mall buying my shit!
That was it for me. I mean I had spent almost every weekend driving down to see him and he couldn’t even stay at my place Christmas eve or find the time to wrap my fucking gifts? Fuck this, I was putting in way too much effort. Not only that, my gift to him was amazing. He mentioned a couple weeks prior that he wanted a bearded dragon. My friend Li, from work, just happened to be selling her bearded dragon with the tank for a ridiculously low price. I bought it for him. I should’ve fucking kept it. Hindsight is a motherfucker.
I never saw him after the holidays. I was short with him whenever we talked. Finally, he asked why I was being so distant. I told him that I was sick of being the one always driving out to see him, his lack of effort was unappreciated and Christmas was bullshit.
I never saw or spoke to him again after that. All I was left with was a ton of mileage on my new car.
Disclaimer – I have nothing against smoking chronic. I was an avid smoker as well, but when you smoke everyday and it hinders your ability to function properly, it becomes a fucking problem.
Duration = 3 months
Lesson(s) Learned:
- Fuck the excuses. Long distance can absolutely work, but make sure the other person is putting in as much effort (or more) than you.
- Cut the shit off if you’re not feeling “it” early on. (“It” being that spark, that attraction, that fire). Stop trying to convince yourself to “give someone a chance”. Fuck it. If you’re not feeling it, let it go. FYI…this is a lesson I end up learning over and fucking over again.
- If you find yourself asking “why”, move the fuck on. As I mention in lesson #2, there is no need to convince yourself to be with someone who doesn’t engage you or interest you.
New Term:
Mansperience
noun – practical contact with and observation of facts or events specific to dating men.
Verb – encounter or undergo (an event or occurrence) specific to dating a man.
