Now that that's out of the way, when I first entered the world of dating and began using these apps it may be fair to say that I assumed people were just more generous or well-intended than maybe they actually were. Now that's not to say that anything horrible happened to me, it's just to say that I found some very nice people who helped this poor widow out who now had to learn "manly" tasks and how to use power tools to fix things. For this, I may have caught what seems to be justified flack for utilizing dating apps as a handyman service. One of these fellows will go by the name Ned Flanders.
Now, Ned was a nice guy. We matched up but hadn't met up. We had messaged back and forth and compared who was the better aunt or uncle and shared pleasant conversation time to time, but just didn't bother to actually have a date. Well, the roommate at the time had ordered a wall mount for her TV and she was rather antsy to have it installed so that she could have TV in her room. I of course being the stubborn and independent person I am, I thought this can't be that hard. Well... 13 holes in the wall later and still no located stud. Ned happened to text me and ask me what I was doing and I sent a photo of the now hole filled wall and just said, "failing to find a stud."
Now, give me a break. I totally in hindsight realize how that sounded, but we can all acknowledge what I was intending was completely innocent. It's now about 10:30PM and looking dismal in regards to our abilities in completing this task. Ned of course responded with some comment about how he's a stud and told me that he used to do construction for Habitat for Humanity or some other various charitable construction based outfit. Long story short, he drove about 20 miles to come in the middle of the night to a stranger's house to securely fasten a TV mount. He was really good, showed up, with next to no effort he had this thing secured to the wall, even put all the items away, and it was a pleasant exchange. On his way out the door he asked, "Need anything else?" I said, "What else can you do?" and he replied, "I can set up electronics but not really fix them." "Nope, don't need any of that, thanks!" I told him I owed him a coffee and that was that.
Fast forward, we ended up eventually going on a date when I bought tickets to go see Sac Republic FC and invited him. A nice gentleman, he picked me up and drove us there and this is when it begins. I of course have no problem dropping and F bomb here and an F bomb there. We're driving and someone cuts him off and he says, "You booger-pants." or something really 7 year old like and definitely utilizing the word booger. I laughed and apologized for my previous swearing and he told me he just really tries not to swear and instead uses words like "booger" and "poop head" as well as a list of maybe another four rather odd sounding items from a 27 year old.
Then, we are nearing the stadium and homeboy points to the right and says, "That's where my square-dancing club is."
Internal Dialogue: He did not say "square-dance". "What was that?" I ask.
"I do square-dancing and we practice over there."
Internal Dialogue: He did just say that. I didn't think people still did that. "Oh, that's cool. I didn't quite catch what you'd said the first time."
Internal Dialogue: What the fuck, Laura. You're going to send this guy home feeling like an 8 year old who just watched his first R rated film. Get it together.
So we watch the game and during the game he points out someone working the field as a member of his square-dance group. How is it that thirty minutes prior I didn't even know that this even EXISTED outside of middle school gym class and maybe Oklahoma? And now, you're telling me that there is more than one person in conversational distance of me that does this?!
Anyway, the date or payment of hanging the wall mount was good, there were some G rated laughs and he dropped me off at home. Over the next couple of months Ned invites me over for "no-pants parties" entailing cookies and Netflix or ice cream sandwiches and Netflix. I mean, at least he knew to appeal to my inner fat kid, but I was too lazy to drive to where he was and didn't bother. Queue an evening dinner and drink with a coworker and feeling like I've not been validated enough by a guy I was pretty interested in... I text old Ned Flanders and I make the drive over there. There were no ice cream sandwiches or cookies, but there was Netflix. Now, the only non-Ned Flanders thing about him was that we definitely had the ole s-e-x and it was good until in The...Most.... Ned Flanders Way.... he says "Wow." and not once, but several times. It for sure made me uncomfortable. "Wow" .... "Wow" it was like worst than the clip of Lumbergh on Office Space:
In the morning he talked to me about Disneyland and how much it costs to go, letting me know what a Disney fan he was. Of course you are, Ned. Needless to say we really didn't ever hang out after that, talked a tiny bit, but I just couldn't hang with it. My theory was that if he was in fact just that nice then he might be a serial killer or being around me would make him one. I don't know, didn't want to find out. 60-40 guys... 60-40. Also, always have ice cream sandwiches or cookies on hand.
