Oh look, I made a promise I would start blogging and here we are 2 years later with nothing to show for it.
So, single life. It’s the best, right? Let me introduce you to Michael. He likes to pick up heavy things and set them down. Hey, good for you! We all have different fitness goals. His profile says that he’s looking for the one girl in the Midwest who doesn’t suck. This should have been the first warning sign. He’s not big into actually texting things of any substance and is super eager for photos. However, after a few days I decided to meet him for a drink.
Michael was almost 15 minutes late. When he finally showed up he was already tipsy from the BBQ he had just left. Okay, cool. I can dig it. He had plans but made time to meet up. Let’s do this! We have a few drinks and start talking about our interests and this is where it started to go downhill.
Michael considers himself an amateur photographer. He offers to show me some of his work. I should back up a bit and tell you that Michael considers Gaston the best job you could have at Disney World. Getting to berate woman and challenge guy’s egos is a total dream job, right? So that’s red flag one. Back to the photos. Can you guess what the photos were? Naked women. Yup, on the first date he’s showing me nude pictures of women that he has saved on his phone. I swear you can’t make this shit up.
I decide at this point that I’m done. We ask for the check and start to leave the bar. He asks me to take a walk with him. We’re in the middle of suburbia. There is no where to walk to. This isn’t the bar district. I agree so we walk to the end of the street and he makes his move. He grabs my boob. That’s right. We’re in the middle of a neighborhood sidewalk and he just goes for it. I move away and make up an excuse about being tired and needing to get home. (To be fair I had run a race the night before and that morning. I had legitimate race fatigue). Does he walk me to my car? Nope. He just points to where his car is and says “This was fun!” and leaves. Really? Okay then.
Did I mention he kept saying, “GG Bro”? I had to look that up because I had no freaking clue what it meant (apparently slang has changed a lot since I got old). As it turns out the reason he can’t find a Midwest girl who doesn’t suck is because he’s a misogynist bro dude who is also slightly racist.
Needless to say there was no second date. He did attempt to meet up again, I guess he didn’t get my, “I’m so not into you” signals. I politely declined. Lesson learned, on to the next dating misadventure. GG, bro.