I consider myself to be a pretty open-minded girl. I subscribe to a “whatever works for you” philosophy and so long as your “whatever” doesn’t hurt anyone else, I say go for it. I’m not one of those women who have a laundry list of must-haves in a man (i.e., Ivy education, six-figure salary, and an above-average height requirement).
Nope. I’ll give any decent guy a shot once, which is pretty much how I found myself on a date with Mr. Valentine two weeks ago. A friend-of-a friend whom I met while playing wingman for a gal-pal at a local club on (you guessed it!) Valentine’s Day. Mr. V is just the type of guy I go for: a thirty-six-year-old financial risk analyst made up of about a third intelligent conversation and two-thirds smartass remarks. (Think a cute Jimmy Kimmel type with a little more height and a lot less fame.) I love me a funny man, so it wasn’t that tough to convince me to go for dinner.
The night started well: talk was easy, drinks were good, and I was pleasantly surprised at how much actual fun I was having. And then—bam! We hit the drug subject pretty hard. (Pun absolutely intended.)
Here’s the gist: Mr. V thinks drugs are fun and I don’t—at all. Call me crazy, but dabbling in cocaine after a hectic day isn’t my idea of a good time.
Yeah, I’m wearing the white wig here.
Everyone has their own personal list of deal-breakers and for me illegal drugs of ANY KIND top my list of no-no’s. I come from a family of alcoholics and serious users. In fact, I’m the only member of my immediate family who hasn’t suffered from some form of substance abuse; be it alcohol or a myriad of nasty drugs. I’ve seen first-hand how this little pass-time can devastate a loved one and just about everyone around them, and trust me—there’s nothing fun about it.*
So yes, I reserve the right to this situation for my own benefit. I see this act as a statement of what I’m willing to accept into my life more than a “shame on you” to our Mr. V.
And I’m sorry, but drugs have no place in my everyday world anymore, and I told my date as much.
To which he replied, “You’re being all judgy. I haven’t done it in months, and if you and I continue to see each other, then I wouldn’t have to use if it makes you uncomfortable.”
I’ve got news for you, buddy. This entire conversation is making me uncomfortable, and I’m not sticking around to see how much weirder it will get.
And so my time with Mr. Valentine is over, but that’s okay. He must go his way, and I’ll go mine.
To Mr V: Thanks for your honesty. I wish you the best of luck.
* Note: I am very happy to say that most of my family members have overcome their addictions one day at a time. To my family: you make me proud every single day. I love you.