Dating again…

If I thought dating as a teen and in my twenties was uncomfortable and awkward, it has nothing on dating in my 40s. First off, I have my own baggage – scars from an abusive relationship, children who live with me full time and whom I actually parent and enjoy spending time with (in a world where divorced dads are part time or less this seems to be an issue for many of them – who knew?), and probably lots of other things I am unaware of.

I had heard lots of stories of angry, bitter, divorced women in their 40s – what I was not prepared for was how many divorced men of the same age are angry and bitter. Guys, what on earth makes you think I want to go out with you and listen to you bitch about your ex wife? Go tell a buddy or your therapist, but don’t tell your date. Please. I don’t tell you about what a dick my ex husband is.

After filing for divorce last year I discovered that for the first time in 18+ years I was single and maybe I should start thinking about dating. I went on a few coffee dates with men (and listened to most of them bitch about their exes) and then met 2.0 and we dated for several months. Actually, he spent a lot of time bitching about not just one but both of his ex wives (should have been the start of my red flag parade right there). When we broke up I went out a few times and although I didn’t feel the zing at least those dates didn’t spend the evening complaining about the past.

Until last week. I met this guy who seemed great. We had lots in common – both lived in the country, liked animals (I thought), went to church, shared similar sense of humour. So we went to lunch for our first date. Huge mistake – I knew there was a reason I usually make sure the first date is something I can easily escape from.

The man had three drinks at lunch which to me seemed excessive. With every Caesar he drank he got a little louder so everyone could hear how his wife of 20+ years cheated on him with a 20 year old boy who lived down the road. I’m sitting there eating my salad trying to figure out how to escape. What on earth makes you think I want to hear about this? I mean seriously. Have another drink. Which he did.

Finally I say I have to go pick up my kids, thanks for lunch, I gotta run. He paid for lunch (which was nice, but seriously I had a salad and water) and walked me to my car (which, again, seemed nice at the time). I said thank you again for lunch and went to give him the polite this was nice I’ll never see you again hug before getting in my car. He took that as an opportunity to grab me and stick his tongue down my throat. In the parking lot where I do my grocery shopping. In the middle of the day.

God help me. Just no.


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