I think that I have finally decided that the dating pool is just a little too over-chemical-ed for my taste. There is just no way on God’s green Earth that there can be so many messed up men on this planet. But I will tell you this, if you are curious as to where they are, just follow me because I am like a magnet for them.
I have had my share of dating horror stories. I mean, is there one girl out there that has not dated the guy who has no car, no job and still lives with his parents? And even when you find this out, you still decide to give him a chance because you don’t want to be one of “those” women who are so shallow as to not give him a chance. Not even when you go over to his house to hang out and make out and when you in the middle of getting some much needed sexual release, he tells you to keep your voice down so that you don’t wake his mother. Any normal person would have put her clothes back on and said, “Call me when you have cut the cord and left the nest,” but we don’t until it’s too late and it gets really weird or creepy or just plain sad.
For instance, my last dating experience is one that will top the charts for all time. Just when I thought it was safe to enter into the dating world again, I meet, let’s call him, Peter.
Now, Peter is a very nice looking man. Tall, dark, and handsome—just the way I like them. He has a job and he has a car. A big plus, considering the past. He also lives on his own in a condo that he bought. JACKPOT! Still thinking it is too good to be true but willing to step out on that creaky limb, I give him my number and email address.
He contacted me that night while I was online and we talked for hours. We talked on the phone and we chatted online and were really getting to know one another. I was very careful as to not to mention any of my past dating disasters so as not to scare off this gem that I had found. We told each other of our hobbies and talked about our kids and what we like to do in our free time. We even shared what we were looking for in the person we date and we flirted like there was no tomorrow. I remember thinking to myself, “God how I miss flirting!”: the first time you meet someone, the butterflies in your stomach, the sweaty palms, your heart skipping a beat when you hear their voice on the phone or when you see them. It is such an exciting feeling. But at the same time, you are telling yourself, “Don’t get too excited! Remember, this has happened before and it all went to hell.” But I always try to be that positive Pollyanna that thinks, “No, this time is it will happen.”
So after talking for two weeks, Peter asked to take me to dinner. I was so excited! I had arranged for my son to be with my mom and we would be going out. This was going to be a great evening.
Peter shows up at my door, get this, on time! Big points for Peter on that one. When I open the door, I see Peter, dressed very nicely and holding flowers for me! Not just any flowers either—he actually remembered my favorite flowers—daisies! BIG BIG points for Peter. He walks me to the car and even opens the car door for me. I know, you are probably thinking that, “Wow, she really has never been on a decent date in her life if she is getting excited about this stuff.” But in my area of the state, it is slim pickins.
He takes me to an Italian restaurant for dinner and he orders a bottle of wine for us. The evening was going perfect. We were laughing and talking and it just felt easy with him. Time passed by so easily and all I could think was, “God, don’t screw this up!”
We decided that we would have coffee back at my place instead of at the restaurant. Plus, we wanted a little alone time and what would that hurt right? I would tell you to brace yourself for what happened next but I don’t think there is any way to prepare for it, so here it goes.
We get back to my place and I make some coffee and we are sitting on my sofa and we are cuddling close together and flirting, lots of flirting and then we start kissing, and I have to say, he was a wonderful kisser! I just melted against him. I thought this is just perfect! That is what went wrong. Just when I thought it was safe, I utter these words in my mind and here comes the all-too-familiar tidal wave.
Peter sits back and looks at me and says, “I need to be honest with you about something before we go any further.” Now, anyone knows that when these words are uttered to you, whatever it is that started will soon be over and you will then be standing in a rubble of another failed dating adventure.
I cautiously say to him, “OK.” He then proceeds to tell me what he had been nervous about telling me all night.
You see, girls, Peter has a fetish. Here is what I was told:
As I sat there like a character from the movie “It” looking into the deadlights, I hear him explaining to me that he is turned on when a woman humiliates him. Yes, that is right, I said, humiliate him! He is telling me and I am thinking ok, this roller coaster has jumped the track. He continues to explain how he has a diaper, baby hat and a bottle that he wears and that he likes to be told he is a bad baby and that he needs to be spanked and sat in the corner. Still, I sit there in the dead lights only now thinking to myself, “The great circle of crap is complete!” I have reached the top of the crap mountain. Inside I am screaming and crying, “God, why have you forsaken me?!” What did I do in a past life? Who did I piss off upstairs for this guy to be sitting here with me right now telling me how he likes to dress up like a woman in thigh high boots and hooker clothes and made to feel like a dirty girl? All I am hoping for is that my dog comes over and bites the shit out of him and he leaves.
In summation to his explanation of his fetish, he then tells me that I could be his Goddess and he will lay at my feet and lick my boots and do whatever I tell him to do. He tells me he feels better now that he has gotten this off of his chest and then has the nerve to ask me, “So, what do you think?”
After a good ten seconds of just looking at him wishing that his face would just melt already, I open my mouth to say, “What do I think? I think you are in the wrong house and that you should leave is what I think.” Strangely enough, he is surprised by my answer. He tells me he thought I would be more open than this. To which I answered, “You want me to watch you crawl around, lay on your back and say ‘googoo’ like a baby and spank your big bottom when you have been bad and I am supposed to be ok with it?” I had mental pictures in my head that will forever haunt my dreams and he thinks I am being unfair?
He could not understand why I could not see his side of it. I told him that all I could see was that he really had a messed up childhood. I asked him, point blank, “What on earth did your parents do to you?” He claims it was not from his childhood and that he had a great one and his parents were great to him. He says to me, “You know, if my fifty-three-year-old co-worker could humiliate me, then why can’t you?” Ok, now we have a whole new problem on the table. He explains to me that there is no sexual relationship there between them but that she has fun with it and does these things for him so that he can get his fix. So now in my mind is the thought that I need a brillo pad and I need to scrub for at least six hours now.
By now, I am telling him that he and his weirdo ways needs to leave my house and now. Here is what happened next, my jaw hit the floor when he said the following: “Ok, if you are not into it, that is fine. We can just have a normal dating relationship then and not worry about the other part of it.”
Normal? Normal?! Normal left the house the minute you started talking about this freaky crap! There is no more normal. You need to leave and you need to leave now. I told him that there was no way, no how that I could ever get into that nor would I want to. I mean, come on, I am all for getting kinky and trying new things but there is a limit! I mean, since when did the day come when the line drawn in the sand was ok to jump over or brush away so that the line could go out further? When do we say enough is enough and I am not moving the line? That day was this night. I drew my line in the sand, I threw him out and I have not spoken to him since.
I figure in about eight years it will be time for me to dip my toe into the dating pool again. But until then, I am closing the shutters to my dating house and staying clear of the opposite sex. This girl can only take so much. But at least I can look back now and laugh about it.