Three Strikes, He’s Out!

I'll take myself fishing.

I’ll take myself fishing next time. 

A while back when I was twiddling on Tinder and during a time I was in between seeing Big Liar, I swiped right on a man that was in his late 40s. I believe he was 49, to be exact. In his photos, he appeared athletic, he liked boating and a few other things we had in common.

On our first date, we agreed to meet at a boating dock and he was supposed to teach me how to fish. (Previously, Big Liar was supposed to teach me but never followed through.) I found a cheap but decent pole at Walmart, packed a cooler with some food and beer, and dressed very casually in a sundress over a bikini. And I waited for what seemed like hours before he finally said what time we were to actually meet (he had about a 45-minute drive).

I was pleasantly surprised at how much nicer this man looked in person, and he was dressed more for a casual dinner than a fishing date. I could tell we were both nervous, but we seemed to get along fine. We didn’t stay out long, however, because it started to rain. We docked the boat and waited in his truck until the rain subsided, drank some beer and had some really great conversation. Things seemed to be going well. Once the rain stopped, we had to get the boat out. Apparently, he’d left my brand new fishing pole on the dock, and someone had stolen it. I wasn’t too upset, he claimed he’d replace it, and he had to leave to feed his dog.

Date number two was a lunch date when he was on his way somewhere and couldn’t stay long. I have food allergies, so I have to be careful what I eat and drink. Whatever was in the tea I ordered gave me a reaction. I know my body very well, I usually know exactly what it is that is giving me a reaction, and I knew it was something in the tea. It usually takes a while to subside, but in the meantime I sat there feeling panicked.

Then he actually said this: something about my age and am I sure it wasn’t menopause. Ummm what??!!! I looked him straight in the eye and said I’m definitely too young for that, and this is an ALLERGY. I was offended, as I’m sure most women would have been. He had to leave, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there, because I felt like shit.

The last “date” went like this: He was on his way home from work, called me to hang out. I said he’s welcome to stop by my house and have a beer. Now this is in the middle of the summer in 90+ degree weather. I keep my A/C and fans on, but I don’t need it to be 60 degrees to be comfortable. He was dressed in clothes made for fall, and I could tell he was hot. I looked at him and realized I’m not even attracted to this guy anymore. We’d never even kissed, his eyes were too close together, and there’s just something about him that I can’t pinpoint that I just don’t jive with. He didn’t stay long, and as he’s leaving he says, “You’re house is hot, by the way.”

That was it for me. I thought to myself, fuck you, fuck your insults, and you never even replaced my fishing pole as promised. Fuck you.

I deleted his number out of my phone. He apologized for saying my house was hot. I ignored him, because it wasn’t half as bad as assuming I’m at the age of menopause. Every so often he would send a pic of himself on his boat, like I gave a damn. I’m sure he’s still on Tinder meeting new women to insult.

17 thoughts on “Three Strikes, He’s Out!

    • Well we know that the aliens 👽 stole the fishing pole 🎣 I’ve had 3 stolen this year alone and a strange loss of time during said incidences …I was fucked up ………..but I think CFO is on the right track with the alien theory lol

      Liked by 3 people

      • Got to be careful how I say it. I could probably be arrested for suggesting some things are abnormal. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. If you turned him back into a hard loving man… would that make you a hero or would it earn you scorn etc??? Philosophical debate that one

        Liked by 1 person

      • Yeah… personal joke between me and my best mate who died years ago. Probably rude of me not to have forgotten. Andy was pretty funny with a turn of phrase. In the most exclusive boys school in the country where gays are hunted by boys who make jail sexuality look amateur (current court cases offer the right to say it) a lot of them hated my mate because he was gay but they were scared of him breaking their arm. I was mates with him because he was the only peer who could cook his own dinner because his mother also worked and he had no maid. Hence… hard loving man. He was the only man in my corner when my brother got killed. Only friend not to disappear. Takes a man to know a man. So many fags from Scotch College many in London banking and finance… and the only stand up man I met and still remember was Andy Doyle. Even his brother carried on about being Catholic etc… whatever that means. If my brother could come back and he would be I really couldn’t care less. 500 people at his funeral and I have seen 6 of them in the 21 years since. Makes you wonder who the real men are. Lol

        Liked by 1 person

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