March 23, 2019. I had to work our spring Open House that day and The Hobbit and I had plans to go bowling with Cheese and her hubby, Obes, later that night. It was always a good time with my homegirl. I fucking love bowling.
The day on campus was whatever; a constant stream of parents and potential students asking us questions about our programs, requesting tours, etc. As I was wrapping up for the day, The Hobbit called and said he was in the lobby.
Surprise!
I was in the middle of taking down signage, so one of my faculty friends volunteered to grab him.
When I looked up and saw him, he was clean shaven. It suited him better; he had a baby face. Sigh. It did nothing in terms of increasing my attraction to him. I introduced him to Lady G and Jules. They knew all about him and were happy to meet him.
Again, I watched as he interacted with my colleagues and friends; and again, it was fabulous.
Good on paper.
We met up with Cheese and Obes at the bowling alley. There was a short wait for a lane, so we went to the bar area where I introduced them to The Hobbit. The last time I was on a double date with those two was when I was with the Ex-Fiancé. We were a really tight group who hung out a lot back in the day. I was hoping to have that kind of group rapport with The Hobbit in tow.
There were a few awkward silences as expected, but nothing that some conversation between me and my girl couldn’t solve.
I was DYING to know what her and her hubby’s first impressions were (more so her, of course).
The night went on without a hitch. We had an enjoyable time together, but I was distracted. I remember having felt that we did not “click” as a group. Was I being paranoid?
My debrief with Cheese said otherwise (although I think she was just being a supportive sister). I gave her no inclination that I DID NOT like him, but only that I was unsure. She gave me her love and said to give him a chance if that’s what I truly wanted. She said that I need to do whatever made me happy.
March 26, 2019. I was going to meet “The Parents”. Yes, obviously this is the natural next step in the progression of a relationship when you are not attracted to the man you’re dating.
I drove over to The Hobbit’s after work with the apple crumble I baked the night before. I was not nervous or excited – echoes of the truly underwhelming feelings I had during this whole relationship.
When I got to his place we had a drink and then headed over to his parents’ place. They didn’t live very far from him. He forewarned me that his dad was really talkative.
They had a cozy house in a nice Etobicoke neighbourhood. We did the introductions when I walked in the door. Dinner was borscht (love) and polenta (no thank you). We sat around the dinner table shooting the shit and his dad did not disappoint. He was fucking chatty. Dessert was a hit, and after a couple of hours and a few glasses of wine we left.
When we got back to his place we had more drinks and watched TV. He asked me to take my socks off. When I asked “why”, he said he wanted to see if I had hair on the tops of my feet. I looked at him curiously and with a hard side-eye, removed my socks and showed him that my feet were perfect. I then demanded that he take off his socks.
There they were…little fucking hairy hobbit feet.
March 27, 2019. I received a string of drunk and hilariously concerned Whatsapp messages from Stuart. He met up with Vic in El Salvador to attend Gus’ wedding. This is when he found out that I was dating The Hobbit. I hadn’t spoken to Stuart since he was home for the holidays back in December, when I met his cousin, The Musician.
His message read “Vic just told me you’re dating The Hobbit…..WHYYYYYYYYY!!!???” I laughed and responded, “because he’s nice”. He then said, “but he’s a fucking nerd and you can do so much better! You don’t need to be with someone just because they’re fucking nice!!! Sister! Why?!” The exclamation marks are not exaggerated. He went on for a bit, ranting about how I should not be with The Hobbit, etc. etc. I couldn’t help but laugh.
I let him vent and then thanked him for his love and told him to enjoy the rest of his trip. Upon Vic’s return I found out that Stuart was fucking wasted when he got the news about The Hobbit and I and was so disappointed that he got all fired up.
I thought it was endearing. He was right. I was with The Hobbit because I thought he was nice?! How was that good enough for me?
March 29, 2019. It was The Hobbit’s brother’s birthday party that night. I can’t remember what the restaurant was called. It was “trendy”. All white interior, moody purple/pink lighting, gold accents, plants in every corner. It was crisp and cold, not really my jam. I prefer old, classic interiors; give me retro, give me warmth and “old timey”. Hell, give me a hole in the wall joint where the food rules.
I digress.
I recognized a few people there since Vic was friends with some of this crew. I did not make much conversation with anyone other than The Hobbit’s sister who I sat next to. I was not in the mood to try to make conversations with the people there…strangers who I did not give two shits about getting to know.
Roughly 30 people sat along two long tables. The idea was family style shared plates except what we got were teeny tiny fucking plates with teeny tiny fucking portions. Ugh, with an interior like that, I was not surprised; all look and no substance. I was still fucking hungry when dinner was over.
I met The Hobbit’s bestie, Dan. We didn’t make much effort to speak to each other and I preferred it.
After a few drinks, the bar next door opened up and we shuffled over. The music was dope! Vic showed up, which was a relief…someone fun who I actually cared about at this shindig.
The Hobbit had always claimed to be a really good dancer. I was surprised. The man had moves. Normally, I would be completely turned on by the sight of my man dancing, let alone one who actually had rhythm. I was impressed by his skills; but alas, I felt almost less attracted to him.
Run Poppy. Fucking run.
During the course of the night, we mingled. Vic was chatting with some random guy and I joined them. He was a cute twenty-something. It wasn’t so much his face that attracted me to him, but it was his hair that I couldn’t take my eyes off of; it was long and luxurious. We chatted for a bit until Vic said it didn’t look good that I was chatting up with some next man. Fuck that! I told him to chill the fuck out and The Hobbit could hold his own. I was not doing anything inappropriate and The Hobbit was within arm’s reach. I was surprised that Vic even made that stupid comment.
March 30, 2019. I woke up with a slight headache, but nothing a Caesar couldn’t cure. We laid in bed talking and the conversation led to past relationships. I was so curious! He had had a couple of long-ish term relationships and had not dated anyone seriously in a few years. He had slept with 2 women before me. He said wasn’t interested in having sex with just anyone. Fair enough. He did not ask how many men I had slept with and I did not volunteer the information. He said he read a lot about sex. I did not ask him to elaborate. My assumptions were that he was not reading the Kama Sutra. I felt like he actually read factual/intellectual materials since his technique was very “by the book”. By this point, we were not having sex and I intended to keep it that way.
We got up shortly after, had some breakfast and a couple of Caesars before heading out to the Jays game. It was home opening weekend and I was fucking pumped! The seats were great; between third and home, about 10 rows back. We did all the things that made me happy at games – footlong hot dogs, beer, ice cream, fries, more beer.
He suggested that we take a vacation together that summer. I was ALWAYS up for a trip. We talked about Europe or visiting a few of the fun states, such as New Orleans. He said it was “on him”. I was really excited about an all expenses paid trip to wherever we wanted; but alas, when I pictured the two of us gallivanting in the streets, drinking and dining; it was not what my fantasies were made of. Also, I would have to have sex with him.
Perfect scenario, wrong guy.
Run Poppy. Fucking run.
March 31, 2019. We had a baptism to attend for The Hobbit’s cousins’ baby. Ugh. Why did I agree to this?! I’m Filipino and I don’t even attend the mass portion of family baptisms (nor are we expected to), just the reception.
It was a full hour-long mass. Kneeling, standing, kneeling, standing, people praying and singing hymns in monotone voices; and the priest spouting out gospel I didn’t care for. The worst. Following the mass, we hung around the church as family photos were taken. All I kept thinking was, “what the fuck am I doing here?”
We went to his aunt’s afterward where I met more family. I was the only person of colour at this party (not surprising or offensive, but I always notice). The food was whatever – cold salads, schnitzel, charcuterie-style platters. At least there was wine…I made sure to have my fill. The Hobbit, his brother, sister, mom and I mostly stuck with ourselves in the family room. After a couple of hours, we left. That shit was lame.
April 26, 2019. I was meeting some of The Hobbit’s close friends. Again, a natural next step in the progression of a relationship that I was not invested in. We met up at a bar for some pool and drinks. We were the first to arrive; next came Dan and his girlfriend and another friend, Ben, also with his girlfriend. The night was boring. I watched them take turns playing pool; I didn’t feel like it. I tried making conversation, but my efforts were futile. When I tried to put engaging in any conversation, they continued talking amongst themselves. Fuck it. I parked myself on a bar stool and spent most of the night alone, watching the Leafs game and drinking. I was content. The Hobbit did not come over once to check on me. I did not want him to, but it was something I still noticed. I knew I was never going to see these people again anyway, so why bother?
Run Poppy. Fucking run.
April 27, 2019. Annie’s birthday at her place. Vic was already there once we arrived. The food was fucking amazing (as always) and there were plenty of drinks to go around. We had a really good night; belting out tunes on the karaoke machine. I told Annie that I worked at a flower shop years ago and she drunkenly asked if I could work at her flower shop over the mother’s day weekend. Score.
Everyone seemed happy that The Hobbit and I were together. It was tragic, really. I was just leading the guy on because I was apparently desperate for a boyfriend.
Ugh. All the red flags.
May 2, 2019. End of the work day and as I walked out of the office, my phone notified me that there was a new message. Fuck me. It was from the person I least expected – The Musician. He asked if I would be interested in going for dinner sometime.
Huh?! Was his girlfriend out of town and he needed “company”? Was he newly single? What were his motives? I also got an ego boost.
Now, had I been happy with The Hobbit, I would have probably replied, “no thank you”, since nothing good could come of it; especially considering the chemistry between us was fire and the last time we went out together we made out. My loyalties to The Hobbit were in jeopardy. What did The Musician want?
Instead of replying, I left him hanging.
May 4, 2019. There was a wedding for The Hobbit’s cousin. The ceremony was at a Macedonian church down the street from my house; it was packed; and again, it was a full hour of mass. Shoot me.
Out of sheer boredom, I scanned the church artwork. One of the images that caught my eye was one of Jesus, rising up. The images around him were what I assumed to be reverberating beams of light. The only problem was the layers of light looked just like folds of labia, with tones of brown, pink and gold around Him. I giggled and whispered in The Hobbit’s ear that it looked like Jesus was coming out of a vagina. He “shushed” me and said to “not say those things”.
Run Poppy, fucking run.
I continued my charade of “liking him”. After the ceremony he drove me home so I could pick up my car. I packed a bag and headed over to his place. When I got there, his family was there drinking. We pre-drank for a couple of hours and headed out to the reception. The pre-drink ended up being the best part of that whole evening.
It was your typical banquet hall wedding; nothing special. The food wasn’t good. The DJ was garbage. I think I danced to one slow song with The Hobbit. Thank goodness for the open bar. I spent most of the night drinking with his sisters; that part was fun.
The next day I was hungover, but we took a little hike. It was a beautiful day. The Raptor game was on later that afternoon, so we stopped off at the LCBO and grocery store. His brother and sisters ended up coming by for an afternoon of ball and drinks. I much preferred hanging out with The Hobbit in a group setting.
May 9, 2019. A mundane Thursday turned interesting when I got home from work and Vic and I crossed paths as I was putting garbage into the garage. He told me that he was downtown the night before, at The Fox, where he bumped into The Musician. Apparently they had a conversation about me and The Musician; about how the timing was off when we met.
I laughed and told Vic about The Musician’s request to have dinner and that I had not yet responded. Vic asked me if I even wanted to be with The Hobbit. I said no. He told me to do whatever I wanted to do, that there was no harm in going for dinner as friends; but to end it with The Hobbit sooner than later.
I messaged The Musician later that night. I said that I would be interested in going as friends. He messaged back and said, “that would be nice…friends is what I’m interested in”, so I agreed to dinner. When I asked him how he was doing, he said he had a shitty month, but was excited for a project he was doing in August.
I was intrigued.
May 11, 2019. Mother’s Day weekend. I was working at Annie’s flower shop. I was tasked with making bouquets and mason jar arrangements. I had worked part time for a florist throughout my twenties and really enjoyed it. Modern-day arranging had certainly changed in the last decade, so I was rusty, but got the hang of it in due time.
Miss D met me at my house when I got home from the flower shop. We headed to the grocery store for sustenance for the evening. While we were out, The Hobbit called. We spoke briefly and when I hung up the phone, Miss D asked who I was speaking with. When I told her it was The Hobbit, she was surprised. She said that I did not sound happy, that I spoke to him in an almost angry tone. She said she never would have guessed that I was speaking with my man. We had a great night (as always!) We drank a bunch of wine, ate some delicious food and eventually passed out.
That bitch knows me so well. She was right. I mean, by this point, I was completely disinterested in him. I was making excuses as to why we couldn’t fuck. We no longer kissed and I was spending less time with him.
I needed to pull the trigger and end it already!
May 12, 2019. The Musician reached out again and asked if I was available that week for dinner. I told him that the week was too crazy, but the following would be best. He said “that would be lovely”.
I thought of the poor Hobbit. He was so nice, sweet, thoughtful, responsible, fun to drink with, kind and generous; but he was too soft. I was afraid of breaking his heart to pieces.
Run Poppy. Fucking run.
May 17, 2019.The Hobbit and I had plans for our monthly wine night with Vic, Paddington, Shers and Ry at the Basa Casa. It was something I looked forward to every month. It was always a good fucking time. The wine and food were on point; the company, even better. We danced to our favourite 90s R&B jams…so much fun!
At the end of the night, Vic, Paddington, The Hobbit and I decided to hit The Portley for last call. We took an Uber over and left The Hobbit’s car at the Basa’s. We did not need anymore drinks; but our drunk selves certainly thought we did. We didn’t make it. The door man turned us away. We ordered another Uber and headed home.
The next morning, I woke up (still a bit drunk) with The Hobbit sleeping next to me. It was early…like 7ish. I went to pee and mom knocked on the door. She was pissed. I could tell she was talking through her teeth. When I opened the door, she was standing there, straight-faced and said, “come with me.” The last time I heard that tone was back in the day, when I would get in shit for coming home wasted from the clubs, dressed like “a street walker” (her words).
I was in deep panic. What did I do? I didn’t remember anything after leaving the bar. Fuck, maybe Vic did something?
As we walked down the stairs, she told me her story.
She was awoken around 3am by a loud noise and went to investigate. All was dark in the house, so she turned on the hallway light that leads to the living/dining room. She heard a series of noises getting louder as she got closer. When she turned the corner to see what the commotion was, she was shocked. She pointed to the living room and said “take a look”.
When I saw the state of the room, I was supremely confused. The Hobbit had clearly started out sleeping on the couch (due to his snoring). There was a pair of men’s Calvin Klein underwear on the floor near the piano. When I turned the corner to look at the dining area, there was a large scratch on the wall and on the floor was mom’s decorative candelabra in pieces.
I asked, did Vic do this?!?! Did I do this?!?! Her answer – “It was The Hobbit”.
I was in utter shock as she continued her story. When she turned the corner to see what was going on, there was The Hobbit, standing in front of the hutch, naked! He was breathing deeply – seething and growling through his teeth. Mom said she was so scared, she almost called the cops. She tried to get me up, but I was completely passed out. She assumed Vic was out, therefore did not check for him in the basement.
She said the growling was evil. She tried to snap him out of it by calling his name, asking if he was okay. She said he looked right through her, like he was possessed.
What the actual fuck?!
As she pointed to the floor, she then said, “AND HE PEED ON THE FLOOR!” There it was, a large, dark, wet spot on our light gray carpet.
Again, what the actual fuck?!
I could not help but laugh! It was just so wild!
When she realized she could not get through to him, she went to her bedroom and locked the door. She heard him come up the stairs and go into my bedroom shortly after. She worried that something else might happen, so she sat up in bed, listening for the rest of the night. Poor mom!
Luckily, nothing else happened!
I told her she should have called the cops; or that she should have at least checked the basement for Vic.
She kept saying how scared she was, that she was convinced that Vic was not home and how fucking awful the growling noise was.
Speaking of Vic, by this point he came running up the stairs, asking what the commotion was about. I was already on all fours, scrubbing the pee puddle away.
Mom reiterated the story and he, too, was shocked and also laughed! He was dumb-founded when he found out that she had tried to get me up, but did not even think to check for him.
The Hobbit had obviously been in a black-out drunk, sleep-walking trance; but I believe that the angry growling had deep-seeded evil roots somewhere. Maybe he was subconsciously angry that I made him sleep on the couch. Fuck, who knows!
Once we laughed it off (mom was a tad less traumatized by this point), I went upstairs. The Hobbit was still asleep so I not so subtly woke him up by getting into bed like a bull in a china shop.
He was content. I asked him what he remembered from the night before. He said the last thing he remembered was the Uber ride from the Basa Casa to the bar. I asked him if he recalled anything from when we came home; he said he remembered nothing.
I proceeded to explain to him what he did in the wee hours of that morning. I’ve never seen colour drain from someone’s face the way it did from his. His facial expression told me that he was trying to remember what he had done. He looked gutted and utterly humiliated. He said nothing and immediately got up and got dressed. When I asked where he was going, all he said was “I have to leave”.
After he left, I went to mom’s room. She exclaimed, “he’s leaving!? He couldn’t even apologize for scaring the shit out of me?” We pulled back her bedroom window curtains and I laughed as we watched him wait for his Uber, shaking my head at what a coward he was.
The whole ordeal could have been a huge joke, but he took it so seriously that the situation became way more awkward and shitty than it truly was. Had it been anyone else, they would have laughed and admitted to my mom that they fucked up. They would have offered to get our carpet professionally cleaned. They would have offered to replace the candelabra that they broke. They would have apologized to my mom for scaring the fucking shit out of her.
Instead, the timid man ran like a petrified cockroach and scurried away.
I felt lighter. Even what he did was absolutely forgivable, I was going to use this as my leverage to get the fuck out. I spent the rest of the day in bed. I was in good spirits. I was disturbed and entertained by images of The Hobbit in the dark, standing at my mom’s hutch naked, growling like a beast in heat with evil eyes.
I received one message from him that evening. It said, “I am so sorry”; and that was it. I didn’t message him back. I did, however, confirm plans with The Musician. We decided to meet up that Monday evening for dinner.
May 18, 2019. The day after the growling/pee-on-the-carpet incident. It was also The Hobbit’s birthday BBQ. I actually contemplated attending. When Vic got up, we talked about whether or not we were going to go. Once we started talking about it, we laughed and realized that there was no fucking way. I was done. I sent The Hobbit a quick text and said that I wasn’t going and to tell his family I was sick or something.
That was the end of that.
About a week later he sent me a text message asking if we could talk. I responded, “there’s nothing left to talk about, we’re done”. He said he understood.
July 13, 2019. Gus and Annie had their second wedding in Toronto. The whole crew was there. Paddington, Vic, Angela and I went together. As we drank as a gigantic group at the bar before sitting down to dinner, I saw The Hobbit walk in with his brother and sister-in-law. Everyone had already heard about the growling pee boy. They all had a great laugh at his expense. I made sure not to make eye contact with him. Avoidance worked for most of the night until he got some liquid courage.
I was standing outside smoking and chatting with everyone and felt a hand on my arm. I turned and it was The Hobbit. He asked if he could talk to me for a minute. I hesitantly said “yes”. As he walked away, I told the crew to come get me if I took more than 5 minutes. They agreed.
The Hobbit stood on the curb and I, in the parking space, It was the first time he was ever taller than me. His eyes were all googly, going in different directions. That is how drunk he was.
He said he was really sorry for what had happened that fateful night. I told him that I was over it, that my mom was over it and there were no hard feelings. I told him that he should have apologized to my mom the second he found out what he had done; that he should have offered to clean the carpet and replace the shit he broke. He said he was so mortified, that leaving was the only thing that made sense. He realized that he should have apologized. I said it was fine, that it was not worth revisiting. He asked if we were ok. I said yes. He hugged me unnecessarily and I then proceeded to go back to my friends. They asked if I was okay. I laughed and said I was fine, that the wuss needed his drunken moment to apologize.
Now, whenever we bump into each other (always in a group setting at a bar), he always goes in for a fucking hug. I let him out of pity; but I should really stop. I owe him nothing and he and I are not friends.
Once all of the homies and ride or dies found out that we had broken up, they were relieved; surprised that we had even dated in the first place. Most of them laughed and still laugh about this relationship (and I am talking about Vic et al), especially the growling/pee part. They said they knew it wouldn’t last, that I was too good for him, I was too much for him (in a good way) and would eat him alive.
It was funny and interesting how no one said what they actually thought of the whole pairing until after we broke up (as is usually what happens). I asked them all why, and they said that as long as I was happy, they were not going to interfere. Miss D and Stuart were the only ones who said what they thought and I appreciated the absence of sugar-coating. I mean, it is not surprising that it was the two of them who just said it like it fucking was. They don’t give a shit about what anybody thinks and they’re just always brutally honest.
Lessons (I should have) Learned:
- A man can have all of the great traits – kindness, generosity, sweetness, etc. but this does not mean he was meant for me.
- Don’t fucking settle, no matter how nice a man is. Compromising in such a way is a detriment to one’s self.
- If there is a lack of sexual attraction, move the fuck on.
- Take initiative and end it, especially when there is a complete lack of chemistry, compatibility, excitement and even general attraction!
- Stop fucking forcing a relationship when I know for certain that it is not what I want! I spent so much time convincing myself to commit to him.
- When I wake up after a night of blackout proportions and am relieved that I did not fuck the guy I went home with, especially once I see him in the light of day, do not fucking give him my number so we can go out.
- Stop dating the next guy that comes around just because I want a boyfriend. They all don’t need a test drive.
- Never respect a man who growls at my mom in the middle of the night, naked and pees on her carpet without apologizing. That’s just poor manners.
- I wasted five months in a relationship I had little interest in from the get-go. Stop investing time into men and relationships that do nothing for me.
- LISTEN TO MY GUT. (Obviously not obvious to me since I had not done it yet). I had insincere feelings the entire time.
