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One I Didn't Bone

T

The good news is, I don't remember this guy's name, so I don't have to change it to regale you with this story.

I started chatting with a rugged looking woodworker on Plenty of Fish. 

A note: when I got married in 2008, I completely missed the boat on this idea of online dating. So, after my divorce in 2013 and some failed attempts at dating again, using an app seemed like a novel idea. I mean, this was ALLOWED now? 

I was still living with my mother's voice in my head, telling me that I'd end up straight murdered or worse. 

So, this guy looked fine, I mean pphhhine, in his online dating photos. And he made custom furniture?! It sounded like I'd just met Aiden and now I'm all Carrie Bradshaw with a perfect date planned.

We were supposed to do dinner on Saturday night. Some sort of picnic type thing, maybe?

Again, I'm fuzzy on that since it never happened.

Friday night, the day before, I'm out with a best friend and we're living it up at our favorite bar. It's getting late, almost 2 am, so we've got a couple more hours before last call. (Louisville bars staying open until 4 probably almost did me in during my twenties early thirties adulthood.)

Anyway, I'm texting with Modern Woodman, who asks to or decides he's going to come up to the bar to say hello.

My friend was pissed out the gate. She thought we should have just waited for our Actual Date the next night. 

So, Wood Worker shows up -- and looks no where near as attractive as he did in photos. I was pretty good and drunk, but my beer googles did right by me. This guy was fugly. And I don't mean to insinuate that I'm shallow, it's just that there was an expectation of a certain level of Good Lookingness because of the hot photos and he was about a two. 

A two with a cold sore.

So, my friend gives him the business and says, "What are you doing coming up here at 2 am? You couldn't just wait until tomorrow to meet her at an appropriate time?" And he was a DICK to her!

Guy gets pissed and walks to the bar for a drink. I ask my friend if she's willing to get rid of him while I run to the restroom. 

She's a good friend, y'all. 

So apparently she tells him while I'm in the restroom that the date is NO LONGER HAPPENING and that he needs to head home before she gets the security guy, who she's friends with. 

He's storming out of the bar as I'm emerging from the restroom. He has parting words for me.

"Enjoy your Wal Mart Life," he spits as he speaks. "Fuckin' Indiana girls."

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