The First Guy I Brought Home

In Dating, Divorced, Relationships, Single by Queenie0 Comments

Soon after I was divorced I wanted nothing more than to go out and meet guys. I had no idea how to maneuver the whole dating scene, but I figured the only way I’d learn was to jump right in and get started. So I hit the bars with some friends and I vowed to bring home a guy!

I pushed my way through a crowd to grab a drink and there he was, my Romanian. He was perfectly tall, perfectly muscley, and perfectly cute, he would do! When I turned around he was conveniently right behind me and said hi. We started talking and he told me all about his recent move back from Florida and how he just quit his job to sing and write music. I asked him if he wanted my phone number now or later, I was in love!

I kidnapped him and took him home with me. I was incredibly impressed with myself and could not believe it was really this easy! Being single was amazing!

We talked a lot, he was into John Mayer type music and he asked what I liked. I said rap, hip-hop and pop. He gave me a disgusted look and said there was nothing good about rap and he needed to change my taste in music.

I spent the better part of my marriage trying to change someone and turn him into something he wasn’t. He was great the way that he was, but I couldn’t figure out how to address and minimize the things that really bothered me, changing him was my only solution and you see how well that worked out. I’ll be damned if someone was going to do that to me and make me change the things that I loved, especially music. My blood started to boil, but I chalked it up to his age and inexperience and let it go.

We got back to my place and he just kept talking and the more he talked the more he showed his age. That night I learned that even though there was only a 5 year age difference between us, the gap from 25-30 was just too big and it all came down to life experience. He would never be able to give me anything I needed, he had way too much he needed to learn and I was not volunteering to be his teacher. I left that profession and I was done.

He kept going on and on and I tried so hard to act interested, finally I just started making out with him to shut him up, it was my only option. I also made a mental note to not let guys talk the next time I brought them home. We were finally having a solid make-out session and then he told me to go put on a pair of heels. I froze, “Excuse me?”

“I want you to go put on a pair of heels, I wanna look at you.”

Shit just got real. I was completely thrown and had no idea how to handle this. I thought the whole point of getting someone into bed was keeping them there. Apparently, being in a relationship for the past 11 years had caused me to miss some pretty serious advancements in the dating/hook-up world. He could have at least waited til sleepover number 2 to unleash the freak. I didn’t appreciate this.

So there I was, in nothing but a thong, reluctantly walking to my closet to pick out a pair of shoes for this freak show I brought home. Nobody told me getting laid was going to be this involved. I stared at my closet, there were heels everywhere and I didn’t know what to pick. I was too busy trying to think of anything to get out of this situation. The Romanian was getting tired of my dawdling and told me to grab the hot pink pair. Perfect, the pair that I wore for my bridal shower. So I threw them on and awkwardly strutted over, I can assure you it wasn’t sexy. Worst part about it, I was so flustered I forgot to turn off the lights. Rookie mistake, after rookie mistake. So there I stood awkwardly in front of him, my legs were crossed and I held my hands straight down in front of me, my triceps strategically covering my boobs, my wrists crossed and I held my hands together. He laid in the bed with his head in his hand and he smiled, “You’re so beautiful. Turn around.”

WHAT? NOOOOOOO! I was wearing a thong, I have a Kim Kardashian booty and for every squat I ever did I followed it up with a cupcake. This was bad news bears and no part of me wanted to turn around so he could stare at my less than perfect ginormous ass!

“Seriously? Can I just get back in bed?”

“No, you’re so hot and I don’t know why you aren’t more confidant.”

I was never picking up a guy at a bar again.

I put my game face on and began to mentally prepare myself for this turn. I was thinking about busting out some kind of hot stripper move, ya know, stick my ass out and turn around in some super seductive way. Before I could finish my stripper thought my feet began to move, I started turning around like a 3 year old playing dress up in her mom’s shoes. I was doing some kind of half waddle half robotic turn until I did a complete 360. What. The. Hell. I also learned that night that I would be a very disappointing stripper. He looked at me and laughed and told me how cute I was. I quickly announced that we were done here as I kicked off my bridal shower shoes. I will say this much, for as uncomfortable as I was, he was extremely complimentary and made me feel like I looked like a supermodel, which was pretty awesome and I awarded him 1 bonus point, which I deducted a half second later.

“You’re so tan, we’ve gotta change that. I don’t like girls that tan a lot.”

And just like that I was done. I was withholding sex and was really looking forward to kicking him out in the morning. I hopped into bed and gave him a kiss for looking good and told him to move over, I was tired and I was going to sleep. He attempted to cuddle which I put a stop to immediately. I gave him some bs about how I get really uncomfortable and blah, blah, move over. So he left me alone and we fell asleep.

The sun hit my eyes and I jumped out of bed making as much noise as possible. It was time for this handsome freak to hit the road. I was over him and I wanted to drink my coffee in peace. He was up and asked what I was doing. I told him I needed to go to my moms.

“Ohhhhh, I know how this works. I’ll call my sister for a ride.”

I felt bad for a hot minute and I asked where he lived- with his parents in the suburbs- and then I remembered he quit his job to sing and write music, of course. I no longer felt bad and refused to drive to his parents. This was a complete disaster.

His sister took forever, we were up before 8 and he didn’t leave until 10.  I was not a happy camper and was going to have to rush to get ready to make it to my mom’s. He talked the whole time and did nothing but pay me compliments and tell me how great I was. I get really weird with compliments. My ex never really handed them out so I can’t say I’m used to it, I appreciate it and I like it but it makes me uncomfortable and I just get quiet. He was one of the few guys that ignored my silence and didn’t assume I was being a bitch. Which in this situation, I kind of was!

He finally left and I was never more relieved. My phone went off, it was a text from my girlfriend.


I forgot I was group texting her and another friend about my night and I scrolled up to read what I wrote.

2:00am “I just met the love of my life!”

3:00am “I brought him home with me I can’t wait to talk to you guys tomorrow.”

8:00am “I’m fucking over this, this is so stupid.”

Apparently it only takes me six hours to fall in and out of love. It also took me six hours to fall in and out of love with the dating scene. I had no idea what I was doing and I had no idea what I was looking for. But I knew I had to suck it up and get back out there. I would have to meet guy after guy to figure out what I liked and what I didn’t like, because I really had no idea. If my previous night was any indication of how well this whole dating thing was going to go, it was going to be a long road.

My friend that’s divorced was always checking on me and I told her about my lack of faith in meeting a great guy. She gave me the best one-liner ever, “You’re going to kiss a lot of frogs before you get to the prince.” #ribbit

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