Old Lovers

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m over men in general, or if I’m just completely numb from my break-up with Hank. Everything about dating and men…people, really. So over it.

I recently went on seven dates with a guy, which is six more than I usually go on, so I feel like I’m improving.

Enter, Nick, after my sabbatical from online dating and solely focusing on loving myself; which included a job change and learning that my ex had been cheating on me, I decided it was time to see what was out there; slim Pickens, people, slim Pickens.

Anyhooter, I met Nick on a Sunday afternoon at Spyhouse Coffee in Northeast. I arrived late, because at this point, I just don’t care anymore. Spyhouse was so annoyingly crowded, we walked on over to a brewery and then I learned all about Nick. He is tall, 6’6 tall…so, I had the tall piece covered. He was a medic in the Marines, works at the VA…lives in Minneapolis, has good man hands. Whatever, I figured I’d entertain the idea of more dates, he made me laugh so why not? So, we went on more dates, had more conversations and more laughs.

Then, we went to brunch one Sunday in Kenwood, (where I basically grew up) and as I was driving I spotted this attractive fellow walking, and I as I stared I said out loud “is that Da..Holy shit! It’s Dan”! I almost crashed into Burch Steakhouse as I was staring at him.

I met Nick for Brunch and it was nice, but I was thinking about Dan. I dated Dan about four years ago, and man, did I love like him. He was so unique and so genuine. Then there’s me, Ms. Neurotic, “you don’t text me enough, so this isn’t going to work…” and, yep, I ended things because I was a needy ass hole. A few days after almost killing Dan, I ended up finding him on Instagram and I messaged him (what? I have stalker like tendencies) We went out a few days later…more on Dan in a bit; have to finish up with Nick.

Nick ended up coming over one night. He smelled like a vodka distillery, but whatever, people go and have drinks on the weekend; I sit at home and watch re-runs of Friends – no judgement. I rented a movie and asked Nick if he wanted something to drink; he said whiskey. I was all…ummmm but you smell like booze already. Whatever. I poured him a finger pour of Knob Creek and then I was excited to watch my terrible action movie with my dog…and Nick. Then what did Nick proceed to do? TALK!! Oh, Nick…my poor, sweet soul. Never, EVER talk during a movie. What are Jess’ biggest pet peeves you ask? Loud chewers and movie talkers. I digress..I wanted to find the sharpest object and stab it repeatedly in my eye. I bit my tongue and just said, “hey! Look! a movie!” THEN Nick wanted to make out…which fine…but he kissed like a lizard and I just can’t. It was all too much.

Then he passed out…yes, HE PASSED THE FUCK OUT, and since he ruined the movie, I put on Friends and did some online shopping. I kicked his ass out when he asked “who are you texting” Bitch, why are you passing out and having night sweats in my bed! I’m texting the only thing that never lets me down, Nordstrom.

Nick and I were supposed to go to brunch the next day; that didn’t happen. I also have not talked to him since. I can’t do it. All I picture is a lizard.

Dan…loud sigh…he’s still that same unique man I remember. We went to this hidden gem of Japanese Whiskey Bar called Gori Gori Peku. The lighting was dim, we were the only two in the quaint little space, and there were about twenty Japanese Whiskeys just staring at us all sexy like. It was wonderful. After a few cocktails we decided to go get food at Red Rabbit, which was excellent. Dan and I always have a really good time when we’re out because we have the same interests. In my head I just wanted to grab his buns and say “be mine, forever!!!” But I didn’t want to come off too strong. Dan and I haven’t gone out since. Schedules haven’t aligned and, again, I just don’t really care, so we shall see what happens.

And now…well, let’s see…my Friday night consisted of sitting in traffic, coming home, crawling into bed with my dog, and looking at memes.

My Saturday has now consisted of going to get my nails done, working, and now binge watching Schitts Creek…with my dog…in bed.

And, you know what? I’m completely happy; sometimes I miss having a hug from a man, but I’d rather just hug my dog, it comes with less bull shit.

JV

Bumbler and Something Called Coffee Meets Bagel

I had the most perfect date last night. He was tall we talked about our shared love of dogs, travel and Game of Thrones. We sipped on wine and ate pasta just like in Lady and the Tramp. It was a 10/10 evening; he even texted me this morning and wished me a good day!

Nah I am just kiddin’

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Dating in 2017 is rough, man. It’s hard out here in the streets.

Let’s recap the dating sites and my quest to find a tall drink of water.

Bumble

Bumble has proven to be the best site for the most attractive men; however, said attractive men never respond and it’s exhausting to keep writing witty messages to men who don’t respond.

Tinder

Oh, my.

I just…Tinder can be best described through descriptive story telling. Once I swipe right to someone, I usually am swiping purely based on appearance;

mostly because they don’t write anything about themselves, but if I am being completely honest, a lady has needs; however, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be treated like a lady.

So, I swipe right, and BAM! I am matched with a man, I chat him something Jess like, and then without further adieu, I get a text with something like “Hey sexy girl, send me a picture of your  _______.” I will let you include

 

whatever lady naughty bits you would like. Now, I could just ignore the guy OR I could just flirt and mess with him. I chose the latter. So, after flirting for awhile, I sent him a picture of my dogs naughty bits…right, because THAT is hilarious.

On my Tinder profile I have both pictures of me with short hair and long hair. I don’t think it’s a big deal. It’s fucking hair. I digress. One of MPDs finest chatted me and was all, “Hey girl…blah, blah” and then I called him out on something, then he was like “do you have short hair or long hair?” I wouldn’t tell him because I wanted to know why it was

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a big deal and he said ” I don’t know which one is you in your pictures?” DUUUUUDE….you must not be THAT good at your job. There is one constant face in ALL the pictures, and the only other person in those pictures has blonde hair, or it’s my dog. I mean, it’s not like I gained  200 pounds and now I identify as a man. Grow up Peter Pan!

I did start talking to a fellow; he told me that he had women ask him to pay their student loan debt off. I was kind of taken aback by the situation. Then I thought about it…well, you do advertise that you live in a BIG house, have a winter and summer car, boat and all this other crap. You attract those women. He ‘ghosted’ me. I was sad I didn’t have time to ask him to pay my student loan debt off.

I think I have 21 matches in my Tinder queue; NOT 1 has asked me out on a date. Shame.

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Is too much as to ask a lady out? Treat her to a glass of whiskey and a god damn taco?!

Coffee Meets Bagel 

Yeah…I have no idea; apparently I have bagels waiting.

Conclusion

These swipey apps are seriously the worst, but they’re kind of addicting. I find myself judging people based on, well, teeth. If a man doesn’t have good dental hygiene, does a man have good personal hygiene? I feel as though a man with bad oral health wears socks with sandals…

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You know what’s a good show? You’re the Worst. I need to go to more weddings.

 

The Tinder Experince

Tinder as defined by Urban Dictionary A dating app in which 95% of the guys are looking for casual sex or nudes to jack off to, and 95% of the girls are either looking for bae or just want to make friends…resulting in pretty much consistent disappointment and frustration for both parties.

The Scene: The Happy Gnome

The potential Suitor: A short and little man named..well, we will just call him Tim (to protect his identity).

Tinder is…aggressive. That’s about as good as any word to use. Why did I join? For casual sex, duh. Just kidding. I joined to meet people and meet people I have; enter Tim.

After swiping left on about 100 different men either having a selfie with a large fish or a selfie with a small fish, I came across an attractive gentleman and swiped right. Being new to the Tinder world, I didn’t realize that if the other person swiped right to me, it would bring up this fancy black screen saying “YAY! You’ve been matched!” Then you can talk with said person right away.itsamatch

So, after swiping, talking and exchanging phone numbers, Tim and I decided on happy hour. He said he lived in St. Paul and loved going to the neighborhood bars, so I named off a few local places; for example, The Muddy Pig, and then he seemed confused…”Where is that”? COME ON MAN! Don’t you live in St. Paul? Then I suggested Happy Gnome, which I am still not positive he knew where that was either, but Gnome was the agreed upon place.

I arrived about 15 minutes early because I like to sit, sip on a beverage (Negroni), neurotically think about what my date will look like; will he be short, will he have tiny t-rex hands, will he be wearing socks with sandals, will he have nice teeth? You know, the usual stuff. I also like to sit and stealthy stare at all the gentlemen walking up.

Tim arrived right on time, which was nice, he gave me hug and sat down. Right away I knew it wasn’t going to work. He was short and small. I mean, one of my thighs is bigger than his waist. Here’s the deal, I am 5’8 and I am busty, so I need a man who is taller and has some meat on his bones. I like when a man can grab me and wrap me around in his arms…could Tim do that? No. Could I do that to him? Yes.

Anyway, sitting at Happy Gnome he ordered a fruity cocktail pink drink…no judgement (insert sarcasm) and we had conversation on something, I really don’t remember. Then for whatever reason, we decided to walk down to WA Frost (another bar a resident St. Paulian didn’t know), and he ordered another fruity cocktail and the lady (me) ordered a Jameson on the rocks, and the bartender poured me about a five finger pour, so I knew I was either going to have eat dinner with this guy or call my mother to come and get me.

We started talking about Game of Thrones which is something I could talk about for hours. I then asked if he liked Dexter and he said no… and then I was just too shocked to even continue talking to him, but I had this huge glass of whiskey, so I had to continue on….anyway, then he chugged his drink and checked his phone and said “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get back to work.” I gave him the side eye stare and then started fake crying and said, “what am I, a boring date?” Sideeye The bartender was laughing and after I paid the bill, (yes, I paid the bill because, he was too busy on his phone) Tim tried slipping me a $20, I was like “dude, don’t worry about it”. Just a little advice, if a lady has an almost FULL glass of whisky in front of her, DO NOT rush a lady! I mean…really.

Shorty caught up to me and was all “wait, you didn’t finish your drink do you want to go to my place and grill?” “What? You just said you needed to go back to work” Also, no I do not want to go to your house…I just met you. What do I look like? A lady of the night? Grill? Is this code for Doin It?

A few things I learned.

  1. I hate being rushed. HATE IT more than anything. I also hate leaving whiskey at a bar that I did not get to finish…
  2. The average height of a female in the US is 5’4 and the average height of a male is 5’9…soooooo…I have isolated the problem there.
  3. People annoy me and I don’t think I am ready to date yet.

Update – because I know I have so many devout followers.

I had a second date with another short man from Tinder. It went better than the first date; however, I am now off of Tinder…so, if that gives any inclination as to how well it really went, there you go.

Where are all the tall men at?!

 

7-13-2017 9-00-09 PM