Brian

His profile looked nice, he lived in Bellevue, and seemed smart. I decided to meet him for these reasons, and not just because he told me I was pretty every chance he got. We played pool, and that's when he dropped the bomb. He doesn't drink.... And not for a legit reason like - I'm sober 5 years, or trying to better his life. He has tummy issues* with alcohol. Instead of running for the hills like most sane people, I let my vanity take over and I agreed to meet him. 

We (he) decided to play pool and he spent most of it condescendingly trying to coach me. Ain't nobody got time for that, especially me. He said lets go to the wine shop and I thought hey - he'll buy, I'll drink, he'll drive. Instead, he asked for 4 of their cheapest bottles of wine for his family members. Sexy much? He asked if I wanted to go back to his place to drink some wine, and after confirming that he wouldn't kill me and my coworker/his neighbor was home, I agreed. Upon seeing his spotless place (think Monk on steroids) I realized that, holy shit, this guy might murder me and wear my skin. But he offered me wine and you know I like my wine, so I had a glass - while he had milk. At this point I decided I should go because this was going nowhere, and my flu had become too much to actually be in public. (I was violently ill... For reals, y'all. It lasted almost 5 weeks.)

*And by tummy issues, I mean he had serious problems and was getting sick all the time (I'd be so lucky... Think of how skinny I'd be). The doctors aren't sure what is wrong, but he knows he feels awful after he drinks. Now you know the truth, but as you can see, it's not that entertaining. But while I like to tell it like it is, I also like to tell the truth... And prove that I'm not a total beezy all the time. 

Jordan (#2)

July-Dec, 2013

This is the story of a girl from Seattle, a boy from Portland, and a drunken hook up turned into another drunken hook up turned into every weekend together turned into a relationship. 6 months cannot possibly be summed up in the limited character space this post is allowing me, so here is the gist: We had our highs and we had our lows, but while our highs were amazing and frequent, our lows were awful and far too frequent. There were drinking issues, jealousy issues, smoking issues, bitchiness issues, and maybe the hardest issue of all, the long distance. But there is no sense in remembering anything except the good. So instead, I will remember how he bought me spices for my birthday because he knew it would help make my bland diet food taste amazing... how he helped me realize fun could be something other than eating candy and watching movies alone... how he dropped my BFF and I off at our half marathon, and picked us up with chilled gatorade and warm hoodies... and how he made me feel beautiful, really beautiful, for the first time in my life. So yes, when I look back on our time together, these things (as well as other things in multiples...) will be what I look back at.

The Way I Tend To Be

Jordan (#2) told me he heard this song and thought about me. Maybe the most applicable song ever. EVER.

Derek (#2)

End of June, 2013

Up until now, and going forward, all of my stories have been happy, humorous, and/or hilarious - depending on your level of coolness. But this one... This one is where I learned my lesson because this one is about a total fucking asshole. Don't pardon my language. 

I will keep this short because really, I don't want to waste anyone else's time on this d-bag (my friend Juli says saying that word is immature, but it applied to her lame date, and it certainly applies here). We met online, met up at a bar, and had a grand ol' time. He traveled for work, said he'd fly me to SF for the weekend and that I should come to his cabin in the San Juan's for the 4th. See, nice at first. 

After a few weeks we tried to, well, you know what. But someone wasn't up for it, if you know what I mean. And you do. Fast forward to hours before we were set to leave, he calls and says he's having second thoughts. I agreed because really, things weren't perfect (he sort of annoyed me). I asked what he was thinking and he said, 'well... I'm not attracted to you. I know how hard you've worked, and you're almost there. But you're not attractive yet.' 

Excuse me, you old ass, living in a shitty apartment, with your stupid upside down triangle shaped/out of shape body, small penised, horrible boss, stupid face...? Did you really just say that? Well fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Luckily, I had met a cool guy the weekend before who thought I was gorgeous and couldn't wait to spend the 4th me. Turns out this asshole did me a favor, because next up was Jordan (#2). 

P.S. Here is me in my 'unattractive, not there yet' stage: 

Jeff

June, 2013

We met online and he seemed nice, so I agreed to meet him. His profile said he was 6'2" and a big guy (I don't discriminate). When we texted for a few days before the date, it sounded promising - told me about the concert he attended ($), winning at poker ($$), hosting a BBQ at his house ($$$)... all things I am into ($$$$).

So I got dressed into my finest date clothes and headed to Ballard for our 8pm meeting time. Things were fine until I actually met him and realized that his perception must be skewed. By 6'2", he meant 5'9". By big guy, he meant big, big guy. By $$$, he meant 'I'm paying for this with my groupon.' Needless to say, that despite his offers to cook me scallops  (WTF?!), my 'sore throat' and 'headache' unfortunately ended the date early. And by early, I meant 8:30pm.

Tim

June, 2013

Our first date wasn't great, but it wasn't bad. He was tall, had an accent, and paid for the drinks. Oh wait, then he bought be fro-yo! I knew there was a reason I agreed to a second date. For our second date activity, he gave me 3 choices. I ranked them 1-3, and he decided on my least favorite. No worries, a comedy show at the Parlor date couldn't be all that bad. No, wait. Yes it was. From the terrible restaurant to start (we went dutch: $80 total bill, my $13 salad and $9 wine... mmmkay), to the most awkward hug/lean away so you don't even think about kissing me end.

We got to the Parlor early, and that is when I realized that I was annoyed and having no fun whatsoever. (Please note that while this date was going on, my BFF's hot older bro and his ENTIRE soccer team were just down the street...) Now, usually I don't like to give line-by-line dialogue because frankly, it can be boring as hell. But this conversation is worth it: (Sitting in booth, me wanting to stop looking at his face.)

B: Well, let's go get in line!
T: Ok, but it's not going to open for a while.
B: That's ok! We can chat and dance!
(We get in line. It doesn't move.)
B: Wow, this line is slow! Maybe we should sit down again.
T: I know, that is why I told you we shouldn't get in line yet and we should just sit back down.
B: ...the fuck you just say to me? (Ok, not really)

Fast forward to us redoing the picture he took of us because he didn't think he looked good enough. Fast forward through a hilarious comedian. Fast forward to him going to use the bathroom and asking me to wait so we can meet Tony and take a picture with him. Fast forward to there is no way in hell that is happening.

"He is such a guy. They need like 30 balls to realize they have enough for a game."

Jordan (#1)

June, 2013.

This entry should be called: Don't Ignore The Sings. 

1. We met online, clicked and started texting. He was a stand up comedian, which sounded promising since I am hilarious myself. Then he called me, and after we chatted for a bit, I knew we wouldn't workout. Knowing after one 5 minute call, there's your sign.

2. But, being new to the dating scene, I thought it rude to cancel so we meet at Greenlake (which obviously means I was in workout gear). Workout gear on the first date, there's your sign. 

3. Upon seeing him I realized he was in the friend zone right away, yet we still walked and talked. Friend zone in minute zero, there's your sign. 

4. He bought me fro-yo, told me I was pretty, but was pretty offended when I said, 'you know, for a stand up comedian, you're not very funny.' Offended by the truth, there's your sign. 

5. When he went to kiss me goodnight, I started laughing uncontrollably and couldn't stop because I just kept thinking WTF. Kissing = WTF, there's your sign. 

6. Obviously we hung out a few more times (#uneventful, #notfunny, #yourenotmissinganything) as friends because he clearly couldn't resist my charm. We eventually stopped talking... Well, I eventually stopped returning his texts because they only contained emoticons of ghosts. Contacting someone like me in this situation, there's your sign. 

"I said get to the junk, like junk in his front trunk, quickly."

"Tiny Gary is better than Tiny Justin because he didn't have metallic stitching on his shirt."

Grouper 3

KC

March, 2013

We met online, and he was a charmer. For our first date we went to an awesome dive bar, drank beer and played darts (no surprise here, I won). Our perfect date ended with a perfect hug and the perfect promise of date two. Everything was... well... perfect.

And then date 2 happened. After much rescheduling, we finally made time to hangout on a Sunday afternoon. Hours before he was to show, he sent a text saying he couldn't make it because he didn't have enough gas money to drive from Tacoma (where he lived) to Seattle (where I lived), back to Tacoma (seriously, who lives there?) and then back to Seattle (where he worked). At this point, visions of perfectness danced in my head and clearly prevented me from understanding that this 32 year old man doesn't have enough gas money to come see me.

Long story short-ish, he came to see me since I told him he could stay with me (on the couch, c'mon people - it's me). We went to my favorite bar (he let me pay, such a gentleman), then back to my place... which is when the making out began (c'mon people, it's me)... which is when I encountered a tiny, tiny, tiny hiccup in our perfectness. Ok, how do I put this lightly... let's see... Well, I learned one thing that night: the saying 'you know what they say about 6'2" guys with big hands and big feet' was clearly not applicable in every case.

Upon my realization, I got a headache and insisted I get some sleep. He left the next morning, kissed me goodbye, and we never spoke again. That is when I decided that I will not increase my number for anything less than 7.

P.S. UPDATE - Saw KC at a M's game a few weeks later, and my-oh-my was I looking HOT. He hugged me, apologized for not texting me (right, cause our ending was his decision) and said we should hang out again. I told him that yeah it would be fun, which was clearly a lie because I had no idea how you have fun with something like that.

Jim

Weeks of emails, and a week of texts lead to the inevitable 1st date. I thought he might be 'the one' and I was excited. He was tall, 34, and not dressed terribly. He opened doors and paid for drinks, and things were looking good. He was sort of a ginger, but I don't judge (those who live in glass houses...). He told me all about his life as a professional beer pong player (no, I'm serious about that) and I was impressed (no, I'm serious about that also). I thought things went well, he apparently did not - that or he passed away and his family hasn't thought to call me yet.

The Way I Loved You

Sometimes 'fine' just isn't enough. 

"He was a tall, black, british dude but wanted to know my sign, and where my aura was. Nope."

"I just kept kissing him so he would not talk to me."

"He was cute until I saw his ripped jeans."

"2 on 2 is better than 1 against the world."

Rich

How does one write about the most intense relationship they have ever experienced? Especially when it lasted for only 4 days? One doesn't. One asks their best friend to do so.

This recap is worth waiting for...

Patrick

He was nice and had a great job (i.e., rich). He said I was so much prettier in person than in my pictures. Um... thanks...? Whenever I said something funny (often) he would reach across the table and pinch my arm. I'm pretty sure he was flirting, but all I could think about was the huge f*cking bruise on my arm. Nice guy, but no spark and definitely no butterflies.

Ryan

He had VW van with a couch, a table and no heat. We (I) bought beer and drove to a waterfront park. He made me laugh, was a good kisser and promised he wouldn't kill me - all wins in my book. But as he told me at least 12 times, he was a broke college kid and was moving back to his parents house (at age 32) because he had roommate problems... to go along with all the others. All I know is this b*tch ain't one.

Darek

He was nice and funny. Talked about his job a lot. Sober cute is not like drunk cute. Doesn't ask questions about me and I'm the most important. Clothes from Rock N Republic so maybe rich.

Dana

Initial stage: Prospect looked good - complementary, attentive, and a willingness to please.

Middle stage: Swift decline - refusal to text, affinity for playing in the sand, and inability to consider feelings not his own.

End stage: Overwhelmed - first real conversation of relationship ended in massive brain overload.

Diagnosis: Aspergers.

Vegas Phil

You know what every girl goes to Vegas looking for? Mr. Right....Now. Not Mr. We Only Have 3 Days Together so Let's Spend Every Second With Each Other.

-This is a guest post from my dear friend - who shall remain nameless since she is currently unavailable. B*tch. JK, of course. Maybe.

Vegas Matthew

Princeton grad, well dressed and ready to make out on the dance floor. He asked me if I wanted kids, how many and if I wanted boys or girls - while we were at the strip club. On our last day - despite my best efforts, I was caught sneaking out of my hotel on my way to his. Unfortunately, my friends didn't stop me and allowed our whirlwind romance to continue. Though I am not sure I could count 'it' as romance, or whirlwind for that matter. In fact, I didn't count 'it' at all.

Grouper 2

Grouper 1

The three of us girls were dressed and ready to meet Mr. Right. With two of us at 5'9", and the other at 5'11", we were basically models. We arrived to the date and met our potentials, standing at 5'6", 5'8" and quite possibly, 5'9". Awkward much? We sat around chatting and discovered that they worked for Microsoft, one specifically for Bing. After laughing at that, someone said, "I don't even know how to get to Bing." My response of, "You Google it" made people laugh and ensured that Bing and I were not going to hit it off. At our next spot, a karaoke bar, the guys picked songs for us to sing (that we didn't know), and we picked for them (that they didn't know... although, really? Who doesn't know TLC or the Whistle song?). We drank some, Instagram'd our Grouper Gram, and vowed to hang out again. Did we? Did we not? Let me just solve this mystery for you right now - we did not. Don't get me wrong - They were great guys... just not 'our' great guys.