A Year’s Worth of Dating – in Two Weeks

[Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to my little sis, Erin. This is my first experience with “guest blogging,” but I decided to give it a try because Erin has a story that’s just WAY too good not to share with the world. If you’d like to learn how you, too, can cram a year’s worth of dating into a mere 14 days, read on…]

“I sit there and I look back and I’m like: I’m a smart person. What the hell was I thinking?” (Britney Spears)

Picture this: It’s midnight on a Thursday night and I’m at a dive bar on Capitol Hill drinking PBR with about 10 of my coworkers. I work two jobs, so I’m coming off a 14 hour day and am dressed in my usual work uniform of jeans, t-shirt, messy ponytail and chucks that are coming apart at the seams. Having recently ended a 3+ year relationship, my sole intent is to drink a couple of beers and tell some dirty jokes with my loud, rowdy coworkers. And maybe get a bagel dog from the hot dog vendor outside afterward if I’m feeling particularly feisty.

Imagine my surprise when a man comes approaches me and asks me if my boyfriend is there. A confused head shake begs the question “Do you have a boyfriend?” When I shake my head ‘no’ again, he says, “Well, I just want to tell you that I think you’re absolutely beautiful.” He then walks away. About ten minutes later, as he’s leaving, he hands me a slip of paper with his name, phone number and “call me!” written on it. Hands it to me without a word and walks out. Pretty effing smooth, right? Even a girl like me, who normally loathes getting hit on at bars and makes a concerted effort to ooze hostility, couldn’t help but be impressed.

Let the record show that I made an effort to vet this guy out before I agreed to a first date. We talked on the phone several times, and the only red flag I got was that he called me twice within the span of two hours, which is overkill. Red flag #1. I decided to let it slide because hey, he’s probably just excited, right?! I work in mental health and normally consider myself a fairly good judge of character, so I was willing to let his overeager attitude slide. Especially after I found out that he was a firefighter. Hot hot HOT.

The first date was fantastic. I made sure to get there early so I could be seated when he got there, since I didn’t remember what he looked like. When he walked in the door, my stomach leapt into my throat. Thankyouthankyou sweet baby 8 pound Jesus! He’s a little short, 5’9” to my 5’7”, but he’s damn cute. We end up barely touching our food because we’re talking nonstop, and the waitress is sweeping the floor by the time we leave. The Firefighter strikes me as very open, honest, direct, and with a strong sense of who he is and what he wants out of life. We swap stories, talk about hopes and dreams, and he asks me nonstop questions about myself. I feel simultaneously comfortable and elated.

As we’re walking out of the restaurant, he holds the door open for me and then holds my hand, and then asks if he can kiss me. When I blush (and I am NOT a blusher) and say yes, we have an amazing first kiss right there on the sidewalk.

I’m smitten.

I’m in deep smit.

We go on to see each other every night for the next week. We both have crazy workaholic schedules, so it’s usually late at night by the time we get together. We talk, kiss, talk and kiss some more. He brings me mango sorbet, my favorite. I gush about him to friends and family. He smells good. He’s incredibly into me. Oh, swoon.

Red flag #2: This man is not 5’9”, as he claims. I was wearing heels the first night, but once I stood with him barefoot it immediately became apparent that he is more like 5’6 and a half, to my 5’7”. My last boyfriend was 6’6” so this does not make me happy. It’s also weird to lie about your height. But whatever. I can suck it up.

On Day 6 he invites me out to his house. He’s trying to save money to buy a house of his own, so he’s recently moved into a studio on his parents’ property. As a financially struggling twentysomething myself, I can appreciate the logic. I cannot, however, find the bathroom in this so-called studio. Because there isn’t one. It’s a room in his parents’ garage, and when he wants to pee or fry an egg he has to go inside his parents house. Thank GOD I didn’t have to pee, right?! I did, however, almost pee my pants when he said “I think I’m falling in love with you,” on day 6. He went on to say “Do you love me?” a few minutes later.

The next week revealed a laundry list of issues: he has OCD and ADHD, and PTSD after 18 months in Iraq. Went off his OCD medication less than a month ago. Former steroid use and a misdemeanor for burglary. Cheated on his pregnant fiancée of 6 years. Hot damn. I should have run for the hills right then and there. However, when you factor in the sunset picnic on the beach, what’s a girl to do? Everyone has flaws, myself especially, and who am I to judge? I remain cautiously optimistic, especially since he’s so straightforward about his issues.

On a Friday night, two weeks after meeting The Firefighter, I invite him to join me and about 20 of my coworkers at a bar for a going-away party for one of our friends. We’re normally a pretty raucous bunch, and I’ll be honest, we were trashed by the time he got there. Silly, loud, drunk. There are some hilarious pictures of The Firefighter trying to get career advice from my coworker as he clearly struggles to maintain focus. I’m 25, I have a stressful job, and sometimes I get drunk at the bar with my friends. I make no apologies for this fact.

That weekend is Easter weekend, so I go home to our parents’ house in Olympia. I leave a message for The Firefighter that morning, which goes to the effect of, “Man, I was drunk last night, ha ha! You should call me. Happy Easter.” Later that night I get a voicemail, in which he says “I just can’t do this anymore” a total of 3 times, then says “Peace” and then hangs up.

WTF?!? Good God, was I drunker than I thought? What did I do? Am I crazy? What the eff just happened? Did I just get dumped on a voicemail? Because that’s barely, just barely, a step up from getting dumped on a post-it note, Carrie Bradshaw style.

The Firefighter never did return my call, or explain just exactly what it was that he “just couldn’t do anymore.” After 3 days, the statute of limitations on explanations for asshole behavior had expired and I decided to move on. On a whim, however, I decide to go on craigslist. Did I mention that he had posted a craigslist ad prior to meeting me? Red flag #87.

Imagine my surprise when I find that he has RE-POSTED his craigslist ad a mere TWO DAYS after breaking up with me on a voicemail! From “I love you” to “I’m looking for a lady who likes to take care of her man” in 48 hours.

And that, my friends, is how you cram a year’s worth of dating into a mere two weeks.