I have a LOT of catching up to do. Before I can begin the saga of my most recent attempts at a rekindled relationship, there are some past dates that occurred before my original hiatus from dating that deserve their well-earned post in my blog…
In early April, I connected with an Australian through OKCupid. We went on three dates in total, and to be honest, the first two dates were really good! He looked like his pictures, he was interesting, and he had a great accent. Unfortunately, by date three, I still wasn’t feeling it as much as I would have liked to by that point, but I still wanted to give him another shot to see if maybe something would develop. This is how he failed:
Problem #1: TMI
Third date in, he gave me a full run-down of the trials and tribulations of his very long-term (now ex-)girlfriend that he had while living in Australia – which, might I add, was less than a year prior to me hanging out with him. He told me how she was the love of his life, how they were living together, how he planned to marry her, how they were there for each other through thick and thin, and how she eventually ended up cheating on him and ended things suddenly. Look, I get it, we all have a past, and it’s not that I never want to hear things like that, but the level of detail in which he explained the rise and fall of this relationship was a bit too much for a third meet-up. He then proceeded to tell me about how he used to have cancer and the story surrounding his diagnosis, treatment, and recovery. It truly made my heart bleed for him, and I felt honored that he was comfortable enough to share such a personal story with me. Nevertheless, I had barely begun drinking my second beer by the time he finished putting it all out there.
Problem #2: Bad Kisser
After a few drinks at the bar, we headed back to the neighborhood where we both lived. I was thinking of just going home, but because making out with the guy who didn’t drink boosted my level of interest in him at the time, I figured I’d get myself a little more lip action than just the goodbye kiss. I invited myself over to his place (obviously he gave no pushback), and it didn’t take long for us to start making out on his couch. When he first whipped out the lower lip move, I was pleasantly pleased that he had some skill. But then he kept doing it. Every. Single. Time. Also, it’s not like he was sucking on my bottom lip with each kiss; he was using teeth. I kid you not, the skin on the inside of my lip started wearing thin.
Problem #3: Bedroom Embarrassment
I was straddling him as we were making out, and usually this helps give me an indication of the situation down under. It was pretty concerning when I wasn’t able to even get the slightest sense of what he was packing because I literally felt nothing. I started to convince myself that maybe it was just the thick material of our jeans (weak excuse, I know). So partially due to curiosity at this point and partially due to the fact that this was the only real action I had gotten in about 5+ months, I just went for it and took off his jeans to get a first-hand assessment of the situation. The result? Let’s just say that there was a reason I hadn’t felt anything while sitting on top of him, and it wasn’t because of the jeans. (While size could be it’s own “problem” category, I won’t go there.). Now to recap the scene: he’s there with his pants off and there’s absolutely no way I’m taking mine off…so I graciously decided to give the poor fellow head. His size made it easy, and it only took 90 seconds tops to get him off. What was the problem, then? As he came, he started to scream, no, WAIL like a wild banshee. I have never heard anything like it come from any human being in my entire life. He wailed for at least 15 seconds before grabbing a pillow and screaming into that. He then proceeded to tell me over and over, “OMG THAT WAS THE BEST I EVER HAD. THE BEST I HAVE EVER HAD EVER!” He wouldn’t stop freaking out about it, which was pathetic because it lasted less than two minutes and took zero skill on my part to make it happen. I seriously ended up insisting that he stop yelling about it, and I even said that I hoped he was lying because I felt bad for him if that truly was the best he’d ever had.
After my plan to try to like him more by making out with him backfired, I knew it was time to cut it off, which I did later that week. He was a great guy, and I can only hope that since that night he’s learned to cool it. Poor guy… but I deserve some pity too because I haven’t been able to completely forget the horror of his piercing screams.