A Real Life Dating Experience
Let me share with you a real life dating experience that I had recently. I can’t believe I am even going to share this because it is incredibly embarrassing and humiliating. This is a true story. I don’t get a lot of dates, so when I do have one I am very excited and hopeful.
A few weeks ago I met a really cool guy, “Dude”, and we hung out twice at a local watering hole. We are the same age, he lives with his parents and has the same dreams and goals and beliefs that I do (which is not much to brag about at this point). I thought he was perfect and I was really into him. Smitten as a kitten. I thought he was into me as well. We had made plans to get together multiple times in the next few weeks.
It is hunting season up here in Michigan and the town population triples during this time of year. The season actually starts on Tuesday, November 15th. Hunters of all shapes, sizes, age groups, income levels and attractiveness flock to town the weekend before and get their deer camps ready and get primed to start killing deer. They also hang out in local taverns getting hammered with their buddies, acting like obnoxious fools with firearms and they know that do not have to call their wife, they are at DEER CAMP. This is important to keep in mind as the story unfolds.
Saturday night I am drinking beer with “Dude” at a country bar about 20 miles away from my home. We had fun, laughed, played kissy-kissy, things were great. I drove home on cloud nine because we had planned to meet up the next day, Sunday, to watch the Green Bay game, have dinner and then watch the Red Wings. A perfect date if there ever was one.
Sunday after work, I get pretty. The hair is fabulous, the make up is flawless, the jeans make my butt look great and I am feeling like a super-model. I drive over to the same bar 20 miles away and get there about 15 minutes after the game starts, I am a little late, but not worried about it. I am worried about walking into the bar alone as there are a million dirty trucks in the parking lot. (I don’t know about any of you others, but I HATE going into places by myself. I get paranoid and worried and I just hate it.) So I take a deep breath, walk in and try to look cool and like I know where I am going. I am casually looking for “Dude”. The room as a whole looks at me, the jukebox skips and time slows down as I walk towards the bar, just like in the movies. I feel really stupid and I am not spotting “Dude”. As I approach the bar, men are scrambling up trying to collect their things and give me their seat. I am feeling pretty special, but still nervous and I still do not see “Dude”.
I take a seat offered by one of the hunters and order a beer. Things go back to normal, I drink my beer and watch the game and start to look around. I can feel eyes on me and I realize that I am one of the only women in the bar. I still do not spot “Dude”. I am sitting alone at the bar, both stools on either side of me are empty for about a half an hour. Eventually a dirty, gross, toothless man sits next to me and asks me if I would like a beer. Fine, I say. He asks me if I am alone. I say I am waiting for someone. He hits on me, I talk to him. He is gross but I am naïve and nice and I am thankful to have someone to talk to as I look like a jackass alone.
To make a long story short, this happens about 6 times in 3 hours. YES, I stayed there waiting for “Dude” for 3 hours!!!! I know, I am an idiot. Every skanky, scumball loser bought me a beer or beers and hit on me. After the 6th low-life loser asked me “How much would it take to get you back to deer camp?” a light bulb went off over my head. They think I am a hooker!!! Of course, I am ALONE sitting at the bar waiting for “someone” with a room full of drunk men away from home getting drunk on a Sunday afternoon. Of course I am a hooker.
Once I realized this and then felt like a complete loser and wanted to jump off a bridge, I bolted out of there. As I was running out the door, I ran smack into “Dude”. I do not really want to get into the specifics, as it was not pretty and I am not proud of my behavior. Let’s just say that my red-headed fury, went into full effect, spurred on by about 10 bottles of loud -mouth soup and the horrible realization that people think I am a hooker, not to mention the fact that I was stood up by “Dude” who I was really digging.
As you can imagine, I have not heard from “Dude” since. I am not really surprised, I just wish I could have a chance to handle the situation differently. I am bummed because “Dude” could have been the “Dictionary Guy” and now I will never get the chance to make him fall madly in love with me. This is the way dating works in my life. No one wonders why I am single. Any suggestions? What do I do if he calls?
Please post your thoughts / comments in the dating stories section of the forum. I look forward to hearing from you!