I gotta help a sista out.
After J.A. and I broke up a few days after my birthday in January, several of my friends encouraged me to put myself out there and jump right back into dating. With out hesitation, I did.
So, this one guy, we'll call him G-Town, caught my attention only because of the friends that the app told me we had in common. I swiped "yes," and we were an immediate match. We messaged back and forth for a few days, and I learned that our mutual friends were regulars of J.A.'s bar. I knew from the get go that this was not going to work out. I couldn't have that looming over my head or have it the talk of the bar. I was kind of a dick about it. I just straight up quit responding to him. And, unfortunately at the time, I actually liked this guy. But, shortly after, J. A. and I got back together, and I forgot about Tinder and G-Town and every other aspect of single life all together.
Now, all of you should have caught on that J.A. and I are no longer together. All of this was a preface to my first week of single, dating life a little over a month ago. So, I was laying on my couch one night after work going through my phone when I came across G-Town's phone number. With out thinking much about it, I shoot him a text. He quickly fires back with something ridiculously rude about how I just dropped off the face of the earth and blah blah blah. Ok, yes, he was right. I did. I explained to him about my past relationship and knowing the same people and ruining friendships/business at the bar, etc. He was still a straight up asshole to me about it, but I didn't really care. It was a long shot texting someone I had 1. never been out with 2. hadn't talked to in 3 months and 3. never responded to.
The next morning I woke up to a totally unexpected apology text from G-Town. That one text led to texting back and forth all day, all week, and eventually a date that Sunday. I was pretty fucking excited about going on a date. It had been a long time since I had gone out with someone other than J.A. I had semi-high expectations. G-Town and I had already figured out how much we had in common, he was successful, he owned a condo, came from a great family, and on and on. What could go wrong? There's nothing wrong with this guy.
The Sunday of our date, I'm flying down HWY 72 coming from a baby shower at Pickwick and trying to make it back to Memphis on time. I get home, quickly throw on some non-baby shower clothes, touch up my makeup, fix a vodka roadie, and head towards Patrick's, a bar which I had never gone to. I was a little weary about that, but it was half way between Germantown and Midtown. I down the vodka before I even make it to Poplar. I wasn't exactly nervous, just rushed. When I got to the bar, I pulled it together because that's what well-raised Southern women do. G-Town was already there, waiting, with a beer and a shot in hand. My kind of man. I liked his style. And his whole face lit up when he saw me...something that I hadn't seen in a long time. There were no awkward pauses or silences or anything. We just dove right into conversation. We laughed and talked and the beers and shots kept coming and before I knew it, it was midnight. We had been there for 6 hours. I knew I was at my limit, so he paid the tab, walked me to my car, and kissed me. My whole body tingled. I hadn't been kissed by another man in so long. It was like I didn't know what to do. My body didn't know how to respond. But, I knew I wanted more. That's all there was to it. There's nothing wrong with this guy.
We talked the next day while I was at work, and he showed up to my house that night around midnight. He was being weird. I chalked it all up to him being drunk. He talked about his ex girlfriend...from 6 years ago. I immediately shut that down. There's no worse turn off than someone bringing up their ex that they are clearly still in love with. He also told me that his dad already knew all about me and kept saying that I intimidated him. Drunk. Yes, that's what I'll blame it on. Ok, so there may be something wrong with this guy, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.
He spent the night. No big deal. I didn't have sex with him. And, he snored so bad I had to move to the couch. It was Tuesday. We were three days in and seen each other all three days. Kind of weird, but I'll go with it. We had a date that night. I called Felix and his boyfriend to scope him out. They met us at Bayou and both loved him. So, I had some reassurance. From there, we went to Young Ave and took lots of shots then met up with his cop friends at Celtic. LOVED THEM. Hit it off as soon as we met. But, G-Town was not involved in the conversation. Dude got fucking wasted. We went shot for shot, but he's over here swaying back and forth. What the fuck. Obviously he couldn't drive back to Germantown, so he stayed with me the second night in a row. Still, not having sex with him. He accuses me of liking his cop friend better than him and starts getting super insecure and saying all this crazy shit. "I'm not good enough for you," "You have more money than me." etc. Alright, there is definitely an underlying issue going on with this guy.
After that night, G-Town and I don't see each other until Saturday night after I get off work. He canceled two lunch dates we had planned and didn't text me one day at all. I get it. People are busy. He's busy. But, he would send texts like, "Hey, I miss you." "I can't wait to have sex with you." "You're so amazing." I don't want to put all of these expectations on sex like he did. He was super nervous about it. Like, talked about it all the fucking time. Apparently he hadn't had sex in a couple months or something. Who cares? It's sex. It's like riding a bike. Except, you're riding something different. No big deal. Then, THEN, I get this text at work Friday, "Let's get you pregnant so I can't lose you." God damnit. I lost my shit. I was laughing but pissed off and weirded out all at the same time. I knew he was Catholic and didn't believe in abortion, but what fucked up person says that after knowing each other for 6 days??? Then, after work, I go to Huey's to get a drink with some old co-workers. G-Town starts blowing up my phone. Says that he broke his ankle, he needs a hotel room, he wants me to get him a hotel room, and stay with him, and he's almost in tears because he doesn't think he can have sex with a fucked up ankle. I just hang up. I can't deal with this. Not sober. Not drunk. Not at all. This guy is fucking nuts.
Alright, last chance for G-Town. He had asked me to come over to his best friend's house after work Saturday night. Knowing in the back of my head that this was going to be the last time I would ever agree to seeing him, I went just so that I could find a few things out. I get there, and he would barely speak to me. He was super standoffish and down right strange. In front of everyone, he tells his best girl friend that he couldn't wait to fuck me. Not kidding. He said that. I glared right through to his soul. That is not ok, and he knew it. So, he retreated inside with all the guys leaving his BFF and I to chat. I don't waste anytime. I just started firing away telling her all of the crazy shit he said to me, that he brought up his ex girlfriend, where his mom lived on Peabody--everything that I knew he lied to me about. None of his stories added up. His best friend was stunned. She laughed then suddenly changed her tone and told me that everything was a lie. Everything. How can someone lie to me about everything? I don't get it. How does someone keep up with such elaborate lies? His mom does not live on Peabody, his ex girlfriend has him blocked on Facebook and her phone, his condo is an apartment, he's not some big bad guy at work like he told me...I could go on for hours. So, I called him out on it when he walked me to my car. I told him that this was not going to work out, got in my car, and left that nightmare somewhere in East Memphis.
After I got home, his BFF called me. Apparently, his story, was that I yelled, "Get the fuck away from my car. Don't fucking touch me. I hate you," to him. I couldn't take it. I told her that I was done, hope he has a great life, and that she can keep in touch. After that night, I received so many crazy text messages about how he wanted to marry me, how sorry he was, and that he knew he fucked up. I have since then deleted all of that crazy out of my phone, but I do have this in my Facebook messages, " :( Sorry again for being a d bag. You will make someone very happy. Sorry I messed up."
Yes, thank you. I will make someone very happy. And, you sir, are one very fucked up individual and need major help.
Delightfully Single and Free of Crazy,
Merekat
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