I love a man in a uniform! Something about a disciplined man with a crisp suit and badges drives me crazy (in a good way). When the opportunity presented itself for me to go out on a date with one, I jumped at it. Anything for my country, right?
He wanted to pick me up from my house. Through an unfortunate series of events, I was already privvy to the dangers of giving my address out to a complete stranger. I offered to meet him and we decided on a movie. After the movie, we went out for food and drinks. Our conversation began with the normal pleasantries. Then somewhere along the lines it took a turn for the worst.
My first clue that this was headed for disaster was when he revealed his dating philosophy. He stated that he and I were not on a date. It was simply a friendly outing because he only wanted to go out on dates with his future girlfriend…whoever she may be. He went on to tell me that he was tired of damaged women, then used me as an example! Apparently my refusal to give him my address translated to me projecting my “men” issues onto him.
I explained in great detail why I did not give him my address. With an appalled expression he replied, “I don’t think I would have told that on the first date.” Mentally I summoned the waitress to bring the check. Unfortunately, telepathy was not a part of her job description.
We ventured further into our conversation for reasons that can only be explained by my alcohol consumption. At some point, I made a statement that he did not agree with. He responded by telling me that women don’t listen. He went on to say that women have never listened which is why God cursed them. It was official. This date was going down in the books, and I was going home!
Later that night, I received a text from him:
MM: I wanted to kiss you tonight.
Me: I didn’t feel that same way.
I toyed with the idea of suggesting that he trade his uniform in for a straitjacket. Two days later he received his pink slip via text message, and I never heard from the Military Maniac again.
About a year and half ago I spent my birthday in Atlanta, GA. My cousin offered up her mom’s house, and I did the tourist thing. As I exited the train station closest to my cousin’s house, I spotted the cutest guy! I mentioned before that I’m not the greatest with pick up lines. We exchanged glances as we walked past each other. I turned around and there he was staring at me. The ATL air must have been polluted with bravery because there I was getting ready to go in for the kill.
I approached my potential beau and boldly said, “Can I take your picture? Because they don’t make them like you where I come from.” He smiled flashing me a gorgeous set of teeth. After taking the picture, he asked if we could exchange phone numbers.
We text each other that night. He called the next morning to wish me a happy birthday then sent me a picture of his perfectly chiseled torso. Under normal circumstances, this behavior warrants Shania Twain’s “That Don’t Impress Me Much” to blare in all areas of my mind…but I was on vacation!
My sweetheart and I made plans to see each other the next day. He played semi-pro football and had a game that night. I attempted to call him the next day but went straight to voice mail. I called a bit later with the same result. My cousin urged me to keep calling until he picked up (I HAD shown her a picture after all). However, chasing a guy down relentlessly is not my style. I flew back home that Monday without communicating with him again.
As I showered that Tuesday morning, my spidey sense tingled. Something inside me said, “You’re going to hear from him today.” I was working the evening shift at a grueling job back then. I glanced at my phone mid-shift and saw a text from my ATL sweetheart apologizing for his disappearing act. He went on to explain that he was arrested that Saturday night which is why we were unable to get together.
I thought to myself, “Of all the excuses he could have possibly given, this is certainly the most pathetic.” Au contraire! Because of my busy schedule I had not paid much attention to his message. Upon further review, it was actually a picture message of his release papers from jail and the text was simply a description. At least I know he was being truthful!
We never spoke again.
Veronica Dasher is a blogger and aspiring author. Entertaining her friends with stories of failed pick-ups and relationships gone wrong quickly became one of her favorite pastimes. One divorce, eleven years of bad dating experiences and hundreds of empty ice cream cartons later, she had an epiphany – why not share these life lessons with the world? Smoochingfrogs is the newest dating blog complete with hilarious stories, epic fails, and dating advice.
Check it out at www.smoochingfrogs.com