Too. Many. Exes.

So this is a story about match.com date #3: John*. So many lessons learned here, I don't even know where to begin. 

It starts on Valentine's day. I was out with one of my good friends. We were at our favorite bar, ignoring the fact that we are single- celebrating the fact that we don't need men! (So there.)  While we were sitting there, I checked my email on my phone, and had a message from a new guy on match: John*. And... miracle of miracles, he actually seemed semi-normal! Can you believe it? All words were spelled correctly, he didn't say "ain't" at all, and he used periods, commas, etc. at the proper time. (If you've read my other posts, you know that this is a huge improvement from recent matches.) To top it all off, he is a police officer (I'll admit- I have a thing for men in uniforms) and he doesn't live too far away. Things were looking up! His profile mentioned that he is divorced and has a child, but that's ok. Although the level of baby-mama-drama definitely needed to be assessed, that's certainly not a deal-breaker for me. (I mean- considering I have the greatest stepmother in the world because she was willing to date a guy who had kids- I'll certainly give someone who is divorced with a child a chance.) So, we talked a bit over the next couple of days, and things seemed ok. We had some things in common, and I was happy about the way things were going. 

Now, call me old-fashioned, but while I totally believe in and demand gender equality, it sure would be nice for a man to straight up ask a woman out on a date. Saying in a text message "well, if you ever want to hang out, let me know" does not constitute you asking me out. Try again. His "try again"? "Well, if you want to go out to dinner or something, let me know." Finally, I said "Is this you asking me out?"  and he said, "yes, if you want to." 

Wow. Try not to bowl me over with your enthusiasm. 

Since he didn't seem so excited about the date, I decided that he should come to me. I told him that if he was free, he could meet me at my favorite bar. (Since this is the second time I've mentioned it- huge shout out to Jack Brown's. Y'all rock.) After NUMEROUS (like, at least 30) text messages about where Jack Brown's is located and where he could park, (seriously- one of the texts said "how many stop lights are there? My truck doesn't like lights."  uh... what?) the date was set. (Or at least I hoped it was. I wasn't sure if he was going to be able to find a place to park.)

So, we're up to Thursday night. Let me start this section by telling you what my facebook status was for the night.

"Tonight has potential. The potential to be really good, or a really good blog post."

You can see how that went for me.

Since Jack Brown's is kind of small, and Thursday nights can be busy, I got there early. (Another huge shout out. This time to The Kristi- best wing-woman/seat-filler ever! Thanks for hanging with me- you rock!) Since I know the bartenders, I told them both about the date that was about to happen. Everyone was in on it and looking out for me. (See why I love it there so much?) 

So, there's a little piece of information that I knew beforehand but left out up until this point. I tried really hard not to discriminate, but it turns out I just can't get around it.

His height.

John* is 5' 6". Nothing wrong with that at all. (Although I was sort of hoping that it was a typo...) but, I'm 5' 8". Something about dating a guy 2" shorter than me just didn't work. I tried though, I promise. Blame it on coming from a family of tall people. It's just what I'm comfortable with. Sorry 'bout it. 

Ok, moving on.

I wasn't worried about having things to talk about, because I have enough experience with police departments, etc. (Thank you 2002 Lynchburg Junior Police Academy.  Go ahead. Laugh. But it's true. I have pictures to prove it.) We talked for a while about funny police stories, but that topic quickly got awkward when he said, and I quote, "I get that people don't think that men should hit women. But sometimes it's necessary." There's really not much to say about this. He went on to explain that he was actually referring to being on the job and having to, at times, use force with females. I get it. But next time, John*, you might want to stay away from the topic of hitting women on a first date. 

As the conversation continued, I'm not sure whether it got better or worse. 

He talked about himself. The whole time. 

And alllllll of his past relationships. In detail.

The details aren't really that important. I'll just say that he mentioned his ex-wife, his ex-fiancée, his baby mama, and the girl that he moved to Virginia for who then dumped him. 

That's right. all different people. Maybe this is mean of me, but I was ok with it when I thought the child was a product of the marriage. But that's a lot of exes to contend with. Too many. Also, (and I didn't put this together until later) he moved to Virginia for a girl who then dumped him.

He has only lived in Virginia for about 3 months. Too soon? I think yes.

And so, after telling me all about the "only time he has been drunk" (he and his best friend drank 13 beers and passed out- only to be awakened by a phone call from the best friend's wife saying SHE WAS IN LABOR,) I decided to ask about his kid. Not much to share there- except that the mother is "psycho" and that the kid is a 3 year old son named... (well of course I'm not going to tell you the real name) Smith & Wesson*. 

Why did I choose this nickname, you ask? No, not because of my love for weapons. I chose that name because the REAL name is, in fact, a type of gun. 

Poor child. Poor poor child.

At this point, I went with the whole "it's getting late" excuse. We got the check (he paid- score for him) and got ready to leave. Now, in ALL the parking lots in ALL of downtown Harrisonburg (and believe me- we talked about every single one in detail) somehow, he managed to park RIGHT next to my car in one of the little lots that I had not mentioned to him.

Call me paranoid, but I was creeped out. After the awkward hug followed by me moving quickly to my car, I said goodnight. 

And IMMEDIATELY got a text from him. "Sorry I'm a dork. Hope you had fun."

Slow your roll, homedude. I don't think this is gonna work. 

So here we are again, back at square one. Thanks for reading my blog, friends. It makes the crazy dates a little more enjoyable. At least I can spend the time thinking about what I'm going to write. :)

Countryboy!

In honor of Valentine's day, a post about my most recent match.com communication. Tell me this- how do the crazies find me? 

(And to my favorite step-cousin three times removed: YES- they find me, I don't find them. 

p.s. Happy Anniversary!)

Who does this happen to? This is the third email I received from CountryBoy*. What preceded this email was pretty normal- "what do you do for fun?"; "where do you live?", etc. And THEN he hits me with this. And this is his email, word for word, with no changes except for the name. For that, I gave you a nice variation on his match.com screenname. (Notice the awesome spelling/grammar below.)

heyy

yea busy is always good im kinda slow right now cuz grass season aint here i did do plumbing but got laid off from that not to long ago. hopefully my business will pick up soon though. theres something i have to tell u about me an if you dont wanna talk to me anymore i understand . but im bipolar an on meds an see a doctor. i recently got on disabilty only stayin on a about 6 months. im goin to school in the fall for horticulture. an gonna work my business an another landscape business in town. i eventually want to work for uva grounds department or jmu grounds. My family is great im vary close to them an we get along good. i see your a preachers daughter do you go to church? i dont go much .. so do you have your own place? im workin on mine... what type of work do you do? well if you still wanna talk to me after readin all this get back in touch have a good evening
countryboy*!
Because I always put an exclamation point at the end of my name. Don't you?

After no response from me, (honestly- what do you say to that?!?) I got another message:

not intarested?

Yep, 2 days later, one more. (at 2:41am, I might add.)

its a damn shame ur gonna judge someone on if they have a disorder im a really nice guy an have alot to offer please talk to me rachael

Here's the thing. If you are going to call me out, at least spell my name right. Come on, Countryboy*. How do I tell him that the poor spelling and grammar is really the issue here? Anyone who types "aint" and can't spell the word "and"? Deuces.

Happy Valentine's Day! (Or Singles' Awareness Day, as I like to call it.) Please share your crazy Valentine's day stories with me if you have them!

Who do who?

Rachel to homeless man: "Okay, Jimmy*. You know what? You do you. You do you, and Imma do me."

Jimmy* to Rachel (without missing a beat): "Naw, baby. Don't do you, let ME do you."

...

The blurry picture should have been the first warning sign.

So this is a story about a guy named Dante*. He was the second guy I had a date with from match.com. Now, I'll admit that he had a lot to live up to. Although it didn't work out with the first guy I met, the date was really great. But I could hear my mothers' (both of them) voices in my head. "Don't judge a book by its cover". I had read his profile, seen one blurry picture of him and we had exchanged a few emails.  When he offered to come to Harrisonburg to meet for dinner, I decided to give it a chance. What ensued was what I like to call the "twilight zone of first dates". I spent the next 2 hours alternating between trying not to laugh and trying to figure out how to make it end as quickly as possible. It only took about 2 minutes for me to know that I couldn't wait to leave there and tell all my friends what I had just experienced.

The date was set for a Friday evening. Since Friday is my day off, I had a lazy day and then decided to start getting ready at about 4pm. When I got out of the shower at around 4:30pm, I had 3 missed calls from an unfamiliar number and one text message: "Hi Rachel, I know our date is not until 6, but I am in downtown Harrisonburg already and would like for you to come early so we can talk."

Umm... I thought that's what the date was for. To talk. What's this about a pre-dinner talk? Naw, Son.

And so, when I arrived at the restaurant (at 6pm: right on time), I assumed that he might already be sitting at a table. I headed for the hostess stand to ask if there might be someone waiting there, and she said no. As I turned around, there was Dante*, standing right behind me. He told me he had been waiting in the parking lot, and watched me walk in before coming inside. (OK, Creeper.)  Remember how I said the picture was blurry? Yeah. There were many things to take in at this point. But the first thing I noticed was not the fact that his version of 6' 2" is what the rest of the world calls about 5' 10". Also not the first thing I noticed? The fact that his version of "about average" is the rest of the world's version of "stocky" or "heavyset". I'm not that shallow- I can handle both of those things. No, the first thing I noticed was the scar on the right side of his face that ran all the way from lip to ear. Now, even though I was totally shocked (and now also understand why the blurry picture was not only blurry, but of his left side) I think I did a pretty good job of hiding it.

Until he opened his mouth.

The half-smile he gave me as he was shaking my hand was just enough for me to get a glimpse of his 4 teeth.

That's right- I didn't say "4 of his teeth". I said "his 4 teeth".

Take a minute, let that sink in. Have you composed yourself? Good. Because we're just getting started.

So, as we sit down to dinner, I'm starting to wonder if Dante* is interested in talking or just eating. He didn't even take his coat off.  After I asked a few questions followed by a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he finally speaks up and says, "So, you said you're a preacher's kid. How do you feel about tattoos?" (Now, to some of you, this might sound like an okay question. Except, he must have forgotten the part about how the one thing you COULD see in the blurry picture of his left side, was his full-sleeve tattoo.) As soon as I tell him that I don't really mind them, he practically RIPS off his jacket and spends the next 20-30 minutes showing me all of his tattoos, telling me about the tattoos he's going to get, and explaining that his goal is to have his body totally covered in the next few years.

He sounds perfect for me, right? Can't you just see me bringing him home to Dad?

I won't bore you with every detail of every tattoo (and YES, it is very boring). I'll skip to the best part. After explaining that his left arm symbolizes "Evil" and his right arm symbolizes "Good", he starts to talk about getting tattoos to honor people. And then, he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the tattoo he had just gotten a few weeks before to honor his mother. And there, on his right bicep, is a tattoo of a NAKED WOMAN. Now, said woman had wings, which apparently made her an angel. And his mother loves angels. Makes sense right?

Can anyone tell me why I didn't just get up and walk away at this point? I wish I knew.

The rest of the dinner passed relatively uneventfully, until I asked why he moved to Virginia from New York. He explained that he moved down here to "get away from the bad shit he was in to up there". "Bad shit" apparently includes street racing (getting t-boned at 90 mph with nitrous in the trunk) and street fighting. (Hence the scar. As soon as I told my roommate about the scar, she said "You should have asked him- why so serious?") He also told me that this was his first date on match.com. The other thing he was getting away from in New York? The fact that he went to propose to his girlfriend and found her in bed with his cousin. Ouch. And in the future, Dante*, that is NOT first date material. Just FYI.

And so, after making up some lame excuse about a friend with an emergency, we were leaving the restaurant. Fortunately, it appears as though he got the hint when he said "Maybe we can do this again sometime." and all I said was "...Bye!"

And the search continues. Thanks for the laughs, Dante*.

*Names have been changed to protect all parties involved. Namely Me. I'm not up for a street fight with a tattooed, toothless wonder.

"If you always do what you've always done..."

A few months ago, I realized that I was tired of complaining about what I felt was lacking in my life and decided to make some changes. And I'm proud to say that overall, the changes I decided to make have had a drastic impact on my happiness and well-being. I quickly realized that it's true- if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten. Despite the wonderful support system that I've been blessed with, I always felt lonely and discontent with my single-ness. When I decided to make some changes, I affectionately (and humorously) named the changes the "Find-a-Man Plan". I decided to make a conscious effort to put myself out there in ways I hadn't before, while at the same time focusing on what I can do to make myself happy and to take care of myself. Out of this came working on being more true to myself and my feelings, less concerned with what others think of me (easier said than done, obviously), and- here's the kicker- match.com. I'm so proud to say that while I certainly have bad days, I feel better about myself and more happy with my life than I ever have before.

But along the way, the plan has been revised. The "Find-a-Man Plan" should have been called the  "Find-THE-RIGHT-Man Plan" all along. And while I'm still working on that revised plan, the first plan has led me to numerous new experiences and hilarious stories.

And so, the posts to follow will be just that- the hilarious stories. You never know what you'll find on a dating website (including old boyfriends and people you knew in high school). Combine that with spending a few nights a week working at a local homeless shelter and the offers for dates, marriages (and other things) are endless. So, just a few months in to my new way of life, I'm so proud of where I am, who I've become. The journey continues, and finding the right man hasn't happened yet. But I hope you enjoy these stories and experiences about the not-so-right men as much as I have. And who knows? Hopefully one day (in the not so distant future) I'll be able to share with you the story of finding the right man.