Tag Archives: First Dates

“OMG, How Stupid Can She Be?”

My mom and I watched “Dirty John” on Netflix the other night. My mother kept saying how stupid Debra was to continue seeing John. I kept reminding her of the one thing people forget; that at the time it is happening the victim is not privy to what is going on behind the scenes.

When people watch the movie or even when the victim tries to explain what happened; they have the benefit of already knowing the person is an abusive narcissist, they know basically how the story ends.

No victim would have stayed had they seen the movie and knew how it would end.

I suppose they have to make the movie that way to show the audience the full story, but there really should be 2 movies, one simply showing what the victim saw and then a version showing what was truly going on.

You also have to understand what the victim has been through in their life and the dialogue playing in her head, before anyone can judge and say, “It would never happen to me.”

Like Debra, I had been a single mom for years, met some real losers, and had always been responsible, worked full time, bent over backwards for the people I loved and I was tired!

Like Debra and her daughter, my teenage son was giving me grief with his attitude.

Through the years and any relationship I had I was the main bread winner, the home owner, the reliable one, the peace keeper, and care taker. I had been told by men I dated that I was “too independent”. I watched girl friends meet guys who wanted to take care of them and spoil them. I was told I didn’t give the nice guys a chance because if a guy was clingy I dumped him. I hated love struck puppies.

In the months prior to meeting my ex, my 3rd marriage had failed, I lost my home and everything I had worked for the past 20 years and my ex claimed backruptcy, so I lost my pristine credit rating also. I had started a new job making $10/hr instead of the $17 I was used to. My son had quit school and I had lost all control of him.

I was done! I was tired, my face had broken out in acne for the first time in my life from nerves, my son treated me with disrespect, I was drinking too much, I felt defeated.

My mother owned a small cabin at a lake where I had once owned a cabin. I asked to rent it and she said I could take over the mortgage payments on it and any equity in it would be my inheritance. She had given my brother approximately the same amount when he bought his first house. We agreed to keep it in her name because my STB ex was going bankrupt and we didn’t want to take the chance of me losing the cabin.

I was to pay $650/month mortgage payment, which, on $10/hr; was hard enough to cover but there was a lease payment every year and property taxes totalling a couple thousand dollars.

I felt like that poster you used to see every where a few years ago, of the kitten clinging to the end of a rope by its claws. My mom was remarried to a man with money and they were traveling the world. She had only ever dreamed of a life like that and she was having the time of her life and understandably, didn’t want anything or anyone to burst her bubble.

My mother was calling me daily to complain about my son. As is typical in small communities, people gossip, everyone knows everyone’s business and she was hearing about my son’s activities.

I had to work and had no control of him during the day, his father said,”you wanted him, you got him, deal with it”. When I asked for help.

I was a prime target for the charms of a narcissist. The story book romance, my knight in shining armor, a man who made me feel sexy, alive, and like everything about me was perfect.

I wasn’t looking for love, I was looking to have a good time, but like they say, “When you stop looking for love, when you least expect it, love will walk into your life.”

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First Date, First Kiss

I don’t know about you, but it never seems to matter how long I do the dating thing I always get the jitters. “What if he doesn’t show up?” “What if he doesn’t like me?”

I kept telling myself that it didn’t matter, I didn’t even know him, but for some reason, with the handsome stranger, it mattered.

Sure enough, he called me at work to cancel, he explained he was waiting for money to come in from his accident.

He told me he was a little embarrassed to admit it but the other night in the bar he had just pawned one of his guitars and he was anxious to get his money so he could get it back.

The money was supposed to be there in the morning but he didn’t know when and he didn’t want to be late or leave me waiting. He had just bought a BMW that he had to pick up and he didn’t want to be rushed. Could we move it to Friday evening instead?

Sure! I didn’t have to work on Saturdays, better for me. He was obviously relieved and surprised. He told me most women would be pissed off.

I didn’t see why a woman wouldn’t understand, it wasn’t like he stood me up, he just moved the date one day.

Friday I wore my new jeans to work so I could meet him at the bar at 6 pm. (Everyone had told me my new jeans made my ass look great). I was waiting in the parking lot when he called to say he was almost there. He said to look for a green BMW. I didn’t know what a BMW looked like but I saw him pull in, he was right on time.

He held the bar door open for me, it was really busy but we found a table.

We were right beside the door to the patio and the door to the kitchen, so there was alot of traffic going by and my chair got knocked into often, it was loud, and he asked if I was ok sitting there. I shrugged and said sure. (I just never get upset about little things like that.)

Again, he was pleasantly surprised, as most women would be complaining about the noise and traffic. I thought, “Sheesh, who has this guy been dating?! It’s a popular bar on a Friday night.”

He ordered steak and prawns. I didn’t eat, I didn’t have alot of money and planned on going Dutch, besides I was nervous and not hungry.

He fed me a prawn off his plate and I ate it. Again, he was impressed I would take food off his fork. I thought, “this guy must have dated some real loser women if he is this easily impressed.”

He asked the waitress for the bill and mentioned he had to work the next day and couldn’t stay out too late. I felt a twinge of disappointment. I pulled out my wallet to pay my share and he said, don’t be silly, he had it covered. Then he said he didn’t want the night to end, and asked if I knew of a quieter place where we could talk.

I knew of a lounge about 10 minutes away. We took his car and parked across the street.

He opened my car door for me and as we crossed the street I felt his strong arm slide easily around my waist in a protective sort of way. My stomach got butterflies.

The lounge was quiet which allowed us to talk more easily. There were no awkward silences, laughter came easy, we had compatible values.

He seemed very humble and almost embarrassed to tell me about his accomplishments. He was very interested in my life, my interests, my job, my son. For once a guy was more interested in hearing about me than trying to impress me by talking incessantly about himself.

By the way he looked at me; intently, as if mesmorized by my every word, I could tell he really liked me. I felt desirable, appreciated, sexy, special; like he felt lucky to be with me.

He mentioned he had left his other car where he had picked up his BMW and didn’t know how he would get it.
I volunteered to help him drive it back to his place, if he couldn’t find anyone else to help him. He was impressed I was willing to do that and seemed surprised.

The way he held eye contact gave me goose bumps. Those blue blue eyes. Our hands brushed on the table. Our thighs touched. Our feet touched. He brushed my hair out of my eyes. Oh my!!

He seemed to have experienced almost too much for a man his age. He was a licensed heavy duty mechanic, a class 1 driving instructor, a ticketed welder/fabricator, had played lead guitar for a popular band before the band got famous (he left the band months prior to them getting their big break) Now he was in school for water/sewer technology because the motorcycle accident he’d had left him unable to do any of his previous trades.

He had said they had told him he would never walk again but he didn’t even limp. He said it was a miracle! I agreed, I had nursed my husband after his motorcycle accident and knew how unforgiving a motor cycle accident could be.

As we crossed the street to leave he grabbed my hand.

*Little electric shocks*

His hands dwarfed mine and were callused and strong. (I have always loved a working man’s hands. No soft pudgy manicured hands for me; calloused hands turn me on.)

He drove me back to my car. We parked. He explained he had to catch the ferry the next day after work to go back “home” to spend time with his mom. He mentioned he goes home every weekend. (That made sense, it was home. But it also meant that any kind of long term relationship between him and I was unlikely.)

He said he would call me when he got off work and if I wasn’t busy we could move his car before he left. Sounded good to me.

Then, it came, that awkward time when a couple kisses, or not.

I decided to take the lead. I thanked him very much and leaned in, brushing my lips against his neck as I whispered, “Thank you. I really had a nice time”. He smelled good, clean, fresh.

I felt his fingers in my hair, and as I pulled away he brushed the hair from my face, our lips touched and he kissed me ever so sweetly. His lips were full, soft, gentle, and lingered; no tongue, not forceful, just sweet and sensual, leaving me a little breathless and definitely wanting more.

THE one thing that determines whether or not there is any hope of a future relationship is how a guy kisses. If he can’t kiss, it doesn’t matter how great he is in any other area; it’s a non-starter for me.

* He could kiss. Oh my God. He could kiss.