The Bitch is Back

I think it's time we all addressed a serious issue that plagues us all, yet we rarely speak of it. We need to break the silence about automatic flushers in public shitters. Seriously, do I even have to tell you how disgusting it is to be on the threshold of your mid-stream-pee-shiver-squat when you hear that click, and then the FLUSH! That little splash on your ass~ Ohhhmyyyygodbarf! 


So, it's been a while since my last post and I've gotta tell you, I feel fantastic! After the breakup, I gave myself some time to lay around in my undies and cry until I was in a state of dehydration and an utter mess. I tossed and turned at night, and cried. I got up in the morning and I cried. Then I went to work and cried some more. I was a drippy, snotty, fucking mess for about 13 days. On day 14, I woke up and I told myself that I was done crying. I wouldn't give that selfish asshole a single tear more. I was going to get up, put a smile on my face, wing my eyeliner thick as fuck, and do something positive for myself, even when I didn't want to. I haven't cried since. I've done a lot of reflecting these past few months, and I've even wondered if I truly loved him, or did I just love the idea of him? How was it so easy to cope, and move on? In my heart, I believe that our relationship was the first happy and healthy one for me after a long run of toxic, abusive, and downright unhealthy relationships and maybe that was the appeal. Perhaps that's what I loved. I think some of it was just the fact that deep down, I really want to find someone that I can grow old with and share my entire life with. I wanted so badly for him to be that person. When it came down to the realization that he in fact was not the one, it was hard to swallow. It hurt so deep, I could hardly stand it, but the thing that kept me moving forward and made it easier for me to move on was the fact that I knew he wasn't it. He wasn't sad. He wasn't missing me like I was missing him. I had to accept that he didn't want me, and no amount of crying and "what ifs" was going to change that. This was my first time ever being dumped, and it stung not only my heart, but my pride. 

I am humbled, and I believe that sometimes a man's purpose in a woman's life is to help her become a better woman and to help her see her potential to do so...for another man. 

In my months of being single again, I've fed my soul what I crave most; travel. I went on a short road trip to St. Louis with the work family in April. That helped to take my mind off of things and help me refocus career-wise. Over Memorial Day weekend a gal pal and I drove to Denver last minute and had a killer weekend filled with shenanigans that has only left me wanting to go back for more. Also, how about those fucking mountain men!!! They just make my mouth water! I've even started to carry mountain trail mix and jerky around with me, just in case one of those delicious men happen to cross my path, I'll have the perfect treat to shake and lure them in. How could they possibly resist?

Just a couple of weeks ago, I threw the spawn in the car and we drove to the beach for a week. It was a much needed vacay for me and it was my children's first time seeing the ocean. I can't think of anyone else I would have rather shared my experience with. It was a bonding experience that we all needed and helped me remember that I already have two wonderful men in my life, and I really don't need another.

A Psychopath Is Better Than No Path At All, Right?

Now, for the shit you all love to read about...my dating escapades and sexcapades...
It wasn't long before I was back out into the dating world and experiencing all of the magical wonders it can bring to a gal's life. I got back on Tinder initially, and not to much surprise, there were a lot of the same fuckboys on there. Same dicks, different day. So, I decided to give Bumble a try. The difference between the two apps is minimal, but with Bumble the gal has to be the one to initiate conversation, and it must be done within 24 hours of the match, then the fella has 24 hours to reply. If either of those things don't happen, the match is lost. Not to fret, they'll pop up again eventually. Surprisingly enough, I've met a few decent dudes on there, and even reconnected with some friends from the past. I would guesstimate that I've been on at least 40 dates in the last few months, and to be totally honest, dating in your 30's is a lot like swimming in a fucking cesspool. Sure, it seems like a great idea to go to the pool...you get your cute suit on, get all excited, and then POW...FUCKING TURDS EVERYWHERE! This time around, I've definitely encountered some serious whack jobs.

Mr. Payne N. Sufferin ~The Lawyer

A couple of months back, I matched up with this guy that looked super familiar to me, but I couldn't place him. He was the typical tall, dark, and handsome (at least in his pics) that I tend to like. He had that he was an attorney listed as his job, which is always a plus, and a somewhat witty description of himself. When we started yapping, he immediately told me that he believed that he used to get his hair cut by the stylist that sits next to me at the salon I work at. That was why he looked familiar to me. We chatted it up for a few days, and I eventually agreed to meet up with him for a drink. 

Prior to leaving for the day to meet him, I asked my coworker that had been his former stylist if they remembered him and if he was a decent guy. I was told that he was a nice guy, and seemed to have his shit together. They told me that I had actually done his ex fiance's hair once or twice, but I couldn't recall who that might have been, so I didn't give it much more thought.

I arrived at the agreed upon watering hole a few minutes early. He was about 15 minutes late...and I was not impressed. As soon as he walked up, it was an immediate no for me. He was not nearly as handsome as I had remembered him to be, and he was super awkward. His button down shirt was wrinkled, and ill-fitted. On top of it all, he was in serious need of someone with some skills to take some shears to his fucking mop of hair on his ugly head. He sits, we order drinks, and the bullshit begins. He tells me about his current job situation, about his recent graduation from IT school, and all the other boring shit I couldn't care less about. Then, he brings up the fact that he used to be a client at the salon again, and says that he really wants to come back, but he thinks his ex still goes there. I say, "Who cares? It's not like you have to sit with her, even if by chance you two happen to be there at the same time." This is when he decides to tell me all about their breakup. EVERY MINUT DETAIL. 

As he's telling his story, his voice gradually gets louder, his face gets red, and the veins in his neck start to dance. It wasn't a good look for him. As I'm listening to him bitch and moan about how his ex wasn't good enough for him, I suddenly realize that I've already heard this story once before, only a less angry and detailed version of it. I asked him a couple of probing questions, and that's when it clicked. I knew exactly who his ex was, and she just so happened to still in fact be a current client of mine, and one that I'm particularly fond of. I tell him this revelation of mine, and tell him that she had told me this story nearly a year before, but she never spoke of him the way he was speaking of her. I let him know that I felt this was a conflict of interest for me, and not a good idea for me to continue any further. He just kept rambling about how he talks to his therapist about her still (a year later, you guys) and he bangs his fists on the table and exclaims that she's a manipulative bitch, still trying to ruin his happiness. Uhhh, ok pal. Thanks for knocking my glass of wine into my lap, psycho. 

Fast forward...I tell him that I need to get home and feed my cat (hahaha) and call it a night. He insists on walking me to my car, and I allow it. I get to my Lambo and turn to tell him goodbye, and he slams me against my car with his body, arms pinned around me, and just lays one right on my lips....BARFARONI!! Who fucking does that? After swallowing my vomit, I abruptly get in my car, and drive off. I didn't even make it a block before the texts started rolling in. Apparently, he was disappointed. He told me that he had bought a nice bottle of wine and had prepared for me to be so smitten with him, that I would go home with him and fuck the night away or some shit. Not even in your wildest, wettest dreams, pal. He text me for a few days trying to coax me into going out with him again, and after no response, he finally gave up. Much to my dismay, he has started to see my coworker again, so let's just hope he continues to schedule on my days off. I'd sure hate to have to cut a bitch.

Harry the Hairy but not so Hip Hipster

In my attempts to try and broaden my horizons, and date someone out of my norm, I agreed to go on a date with this long haired fella that wore skinny jeans and had a massive beard nearly to his chest. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, I blame my ovaries. I don't even like long hair on men. Anyways, I agreed to meet this dude one evening after work for a cup of coffee. On my way there, he calls me to chat. He tells me that because I put that I'm adventurous on my profile, he had a really fun date idea in mind, but there was a catch. He was going to give me three options to choose from, and I had to promise to follow through with one of them. This piqued my interest, so I agreed as long as it was WITHIN REASON. I get to Starbucks, and he was really quite good looking. He had a great smile, and the physique I'm most attracted to. He smelled a little like a hippy that had eaten a lot of Burger King, but I don't mind a bit of meat and a little patchouli scent as long as you're not trying to hide the musk from your skidmarks in your underoos with it. 

We sit on the patio out front, and he begins to tell me about this dream he'd had a couple weeks prior. In this dream, he was alone at a library and this faceless woman walks by him. As she does, she happened to drop her pen and it rolled beneath his table. The next thing he knows, she's under his table, and decides to suck him off right there because she just couldn't help herself. I laugh. He proceeds to tell me that he believes that I am in fact this faceless girl in his dream, and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me and this situation. Now comes my three choices for our date adventure. 

Option #1

We could go to a library and try to pull this off, but he believes it to be too risky, and not intimate enough. 

Option #2 

We could go to Target. We would both go grab a couple of items to try on, and separately go into fitting rooms. Once the fitting room attendant wandered off, I would text him which room I was in, and he would then sneak in and find me waiting for him, on my knees, ready to service him.

Option #3

If I turned out to be too prude for either of the other two choices, he had just so happened to have conveniently picked to meet at a Starbucks that was just a few blocks from his house, so we could just go there.

What a fucking catch, AM I RIGHT??? How ever do I get so lucky to find such fucking winners? 

I literally laughed in his face, and told him that I was not the girl for him. Where the fuck does this guy get the idea that I'm the type of girl that meets up with a stranger and sucks him off for coffee??? Really? Does this actually work? Judging by his level of confidence, I would assume so, although he claimed he'd never attempted such. At first, I wasn't even sure if he was being genuine or just trying to see if I'd bite. Let's be honest, even if he wasn't being serious in the least bit and I agreed, you know that motherfucker would be down in a millisecond. Any man with a pulse and a functioning cock would be, and I can't say that I'd blame them. He tried to persuade me with the promise that he would reciprocate when he got back into town the following week. Hahaha, clearly he does not know me...I definitely don't suck dick based upon empty promises. I do it when I want to do it and when I feel my partner deserves it. 

I tell him that when I've finished my drink, I was going to leave. He changes the subject from the talk of going on our little adventure and begins to tell me about his job and the company that he started up. He shows me some of his work, and it wasn't bad. He was trying to make me feel comfortable enough with him to change my mind, no doubt. No fucking chance, dude. He then asks me if I thought he could pull off pigtail braids while wearing a hat the next day while he traveled. I don't see why not...at this point, nothing this man can say or do can really surprise me. I can't even stop laughing. Then, this motherfucker asks me if I could braid his hair for him and make it last for his flight the following day. I've never laughed so hard at someone. He was totally serious, and even had the hair ties in his car to do it. At this point, I was in it purely for the entertainment aspect and really didn't give a shit what he thought of me, so I did it. I sat in front of a Starbucks on a very busy street, on a Tuesday evening braiding this burly blonde man's hair into french braid pigtails while he continued to try to convince me to go to Target with him. Wowzers. When I finished, he tells me that it was purely just a stall tactic to keep me from leaving because he enjoyed my company. Duh, dildo. You're fucking transparent. I sat and chatted with him a bit longer, sipped the last of my coffee, and drove away. He sent me a follow request on Snapchat a couple days later, and I haven't heard from him since. Good riddance, fuckboy.

Catfish Carl

My most recent, and most frightening crazy to date was this fella we'll call Carl. We matched up a few months back, and seemed to hit it off relatively well. We chatted for a few days, then I met someone else and lost interest. I tend to go through phases in which I'm fairly active online, and then I disappear. A gal can only juggle so many dicks, ya know? Too much testosterone. 

A few weeks had passed, and out of the blue he sent me a message asking if I was still interested. Sure, why not? It never hurts to get to know someone, and I don't go into any situation expecting to meet my soulmate. I only hope to gain a friend, so there's no harm in that. We talked pretty steadily for a few days, and I agreed to meet him for dinner one evening. Typically, I don't allow these men to pick me up at my home, because I'm not trying to get chopped into little pieces and thrown in the Missouri as fish food, but I was feeling lazy and off my game a bit, so I allowed him to pick me up. DON'T DO THIS, LADIES! It's a terrible idea, especially when you live alone with young children. 

We agreed that he'd pick me up at 7:00 on the dot, hopefully in his drop top, so we could go cruising the streets and he'd have a real pretty, pretty lil thang waiting for him. (If you don't get that reference, we can't be friends.) He texts me at about 6:20 and says that he'll be here closer to 7:15 - 7:30. Fine, that just gives me more time to "unwine" from my day at work. At 7:40 I text him and ask him his ETA, and get no response. At 7:50 I call him, no answer. At 7:55 my doorbell rings. I peek out the window at him and that knot of disappointment begins to grow in my belly. I open the door and flash him my gloriously crooked smile, and all hope was lost at that very moment. There stood Carl, the man I was lead to believe to be a blonde haired man with bright blue eyes, and beautiful pearly white teeth. A man that worked in finance for his day job, and did personal training as a side gig. This man was 6'2, 190 lbs of solid muscle and pure sex. Unfortunately, that is not the Carl that stood on my front stoop. This fucking guy was more like 220 lbs of solid blubber and lard with a front tooth the color of a cheesy poof. His polo shirt was two sizes too small, and wrinkled, but luckily for me, he showed off that stellar beer gut he was obviously so proud of. I was so, so bummed, I don't know how I hid it because I don't really have the ability to hide my emotions very well. If I were a bigger asshole, I would have told him no thanks right then and there, but how could I? So, to dinner we went.

When I go out with people, I like to observe the way they interact with others and their reactions to the environment around them. One thing I'm very in tune with is how they respond to children around them. We went to a little Mexican joint by my house, and it's a family restaurant. That means kids are likely going to be present. We were seated next to a family of 6 or 7 that had kids ranging from about 3 to 10, I would guess. The kids were laughing and carrying on like children do, and he kept rolling his eyes and made the comment that he wished people would keep their brats quiet in public. I honestly didn't even notice them until he made a comment, and they weren't being any more disruptive than he was with his putrid looking fuckface.

The waitress comes, and I order a Corona. He needed a minute. Then he busts my balls and says "I thought you were a Boulevard Wheat girl. That's misleading." 

First of all, fuck you. Secondly, I will drink whatever beer I so please, and on that particular night I wanted a Mexican beer to go with my motherfucking tacos, so don't you judge me, prick. The waitress comes back, and he orders a Corona.

Watching this man eat was one of the most excruciating moments in the history of all of my meals in my life. He was one of those that never fully shuts his mouth, so you can see his food swashing back and forth, and hear the smacking of his tongue as he pushed it around and swallowed. It took every ounce of my being to not get onto him like I do my children when they forget their manners. It was so disgusting, I couldn't even finish my dinner. 

The entire duration of dinner, he kept trying to steer the conversation into the direction of sex, and I kept trying to steer it away. I asked him about his job in finance and how long he'd been with his company. This is when he tells me that he actually got laid off from that job three years ago. Nowadays, he does odd jobs to make ends meet until he can find something on the same level of pay that isn't entry level. Because I'm such a nice gal, I suggest that he email me his resume so that I may pass it along to some of my clients in that field. It couldn't hurt, right? I ask him what part of Blue Springs he lives in and he then tells me that he rents the basement of his parent's home. Awesome. I didn't even touch on the personal training job situation, because that was clearly a thing of the past too. We chatted about our last relationships, and why they ended, and not to my surprise, his last lady had accused him of being a control freak and possessive. Apparently, things had not gone well at the end of their run. 

After dinner, he takes me home, and just as I'm going to get out of the car, he asks if he can come in and use my bathroom. Jesus Fucking Christ, that's low. How can I say no and not be the biggest bitch, ever? I begrudgingly let him come in, and let him know that he really can't stay long, I had a busy day and needed to get plenty of rest for the upcoming day. I had a glass of wine already poured and gave him a beer. He sat down on my couch, I sat down in my chair...away from him. He started flapping his gums about shit I didn't care to hear, so I paid more attention to my cat. Then he says that he feels so far away from me and it made him feel awkward that I didn't sit next to him. I'm thinking, GOOD, now leave! He pats the couch next to him and asks me to sit next to him. I felt so uncomfortable, that I actually did, but I sat on the edge of the cushion, stiff as a board. That's when I felt his hand creeping up on my back and I froze. This shit was not going down in my house. I turned to him and said, "Ok, I have to be totally honest with you right now and tell you that I'm just not feeling this." The look on his face is one that will forever be burned into my memory. 

C: "What do you mean, you're not feeling this? Feeling what exactly?"

M: "This. I'm not feeling you and I. I don't feel a connection with you. I'm sorry, I just have to let you know."

C: "Was it something I said? Was it something I did?"

M: "No, it's not like that, I just don't feel an attraction to you. You're a funny guy, and you're nice and I appreciate that you took the time out of your day to meet me and take me to dinner, but I need you to know that I have no intention of wasting your time or leading you on. We can be friends if you would like, I just don't plan to see you again romantically."

C: "Well, what is it about me that's just not FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU???"

M. "Whoa, I didn't say that at all, and I'm sorry to hurt your feelings. I know it's not easy to be rejected, especially in the middle of a date, and for that I apologize. I just don't want to send any mixed signals."

C: "This is some bullshit if I've ever heard it. You could have told me sooner, rather than leading me on."

At this point, his face is beet red, and he's clenching and unclenching his fists and keeps clearing his throat. I stand up, and say, "Well, this is really fucking awkward, I think you should probably leave now." He argues that he will leave on his own accord, when he's ready to leave. Deep down, I'm sweating bullets and hoping I can make it to one of my hidden weapons in the room if he were to lose his shit and come at me. I tell him that I insist that he leaves now, and that I will walk him out. He gets up, slams his beer on my counter, and walks out the door, slamming it behind him. I lock that shit up like Fort Knox and pull my drapes closed. He proceeds to sit in my driveway for 15 minutes before he finally leaves. At this point, I've text my girlfriends about the situation and give them his info just in case anything should happen to me. 

About a half hour later, he texts me, and the following is where things ended, or so I hope.

After this situation, I decided to take a little break from the online dating scene and get my ass back on track. It's a scary world out there, and I think I just needed a little reminder that not every person has the kindness inside of them that I hope that they do. In the meantime, I'm spending my time with the people I feel are deserving of it, and that make me smile. If you've found yourself in my company as of late, guess what? I consider you one of those I hold near and dear. If not, it sucks to be you. :)