Ned Flanders

Let me first start by saying that I'm no longer on the dating app scene so the stories about dating-app related dates will be past dates that I just feel are worth a mention.

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. 

Guns Don't Kill Dates, I do.

Let's be clear, the title is about the fella you're about to read about.  I originally made a second page entitled "Date Hell" as a special place to put all of those awful, special dates... the way that awful and special souls have a special place to go in the afterlife. However, I realized that I could only add to it vs. have separated entries and that annoyed me... so I've now moved this and x-nayed the separate page.

As a means to semi be nice and not throw these poor souls who can take all they can get in the date-points field, I'll try my best to leave names out of it.  This was certainly what we would call a "bumble fumble".   Oh, for those that don't know, Bumble is like a slight step up from Tinder in that it's not entirely full of "hook-up" seekers.... "entirely".  See, I refuse to pay for dating, I feel like that should come after I get kicked out of a convent; However, dating utilizing free apps most certainly has it's cons.

Laura thought, maybe an older guy is where it's at.  I figured I have this list of "musts" and people just are. not. cutting. it.   So, what seemed easiest to perhaps bend the expectation on? Age.  I sure as fuck was not about to make my age range younger, but I thought I might be able to find an older guy, possibly divorced but sane, more likely to have a good job, more likely to be wanting something substantial.... more likely to be a fucking douche on a stick seemed to be the end result.

First off, the red flag should have been that he wanted to meet up after like two sentences of conversation.  I even made a comment about that to the extent of, "you haven't even heard my good jokes yet."  Anyway, my second red flag should have been that he was spending that particular evening down at a local place I became familiar with when dating a complete disgrace of a person (I know that sounds harsh, but you have no idea). But whatever, I agreed to meeting up for a beer on a Friday.  He suggests a place called "Players"..... RED FLAG, LAURA... RED FLAG.  Laura's hesitation of responding must have prompted his "or we could go somewhere else."  I realized later he was just wanting to go where he could watch the game, but come on. Anyway, we end up at BJ's as I said I'd want some food.

We're at the bar at BJ's... great place to sit and get to know someone, but he was for sure preoccupied by the game.  Then the conversation made me want to just go home.  This guy.... ugh. Where to even start.

Guns.
Guns-guns-guns-guns.  WE GET IT!!! You fucking LOVE GUNS! "I love guns, I love to go shooting.  I have lots of guns. You should have a gun.  Not having a gun is like saying you should just leave your front door unlocked because your home is secure.  Saying you wouldn't shoot someone is like saying you wouldn't fight someone off who's trying to rape you. My guns have names, they're named Bill, Hillary, Chelsea, and Monica... my gun friends think it's funny."
Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
1. No, sir.... saying I wouldn't shoot another human being is NOT saying that I'd happily lay back and be raped.  You better fucking bet I would fight to the fucking death likely, but no if I had a gun I could not physically choose to shoot a person because fighting someone is different than highly likely killing them.  HUGE difference.
2. Locking my door and having a gun to shoot someone are two completely different things.  I also lock my door so that my animals won't run away if it were to blow open... having a gun won't fucking stop that.
3.  I'm glad you find your gun naming cute and funny.... I hope they also keep you warm and feeling loved at night while you probably jerk off to them.

California Hating
Home boy has come from out of state.  His residing locations within this beautiful state have been Fresno, Sacramento, and some work (not sure if he lived there) in Oroville.  I'm just gonna say, if Fresno and Oroville were ANYONE'S glimpse into California living... I would completely understand.  But no, he tells me how much he hates California, how everyone in California is fleeing California to go elsewhere.  He doesn't like the politics in California... and it's a crying fucking shame that he can't just be open carrying his pistol around.  "If I were in Arizona, I could just be walking around in the middle of the day just like what's up? **gestures to his hip to the pretend pistol**"  I responded, "Do you find that you need to have a pistol with you in the middle of the day frequently?"  "Well yah," he says, "If I need to shoot someone."  Mother. Fucker.  This is EXACTLY why we don't need every Tom, Dick, and Harry fucking carrying a goddamn pistol around as their American given right.

Laziness
This mother fucker starts telling me about how he doesn't cook anything anymore he orders it all so that he doesn't have to "dirty" any dishes or cooking utensils.  He also tells me that he finally went shopping for the first time ever and then begins to brag about how his entire outfit was new "new jeans, new shirt, new underwear.."  I said, "It sounds like you were out all night and needed clothes for tonight. That's what we call a go-pack."  He then tells me later that he has no clean clothes because he hasn't done laundry and that if he can pay for other people to do things he will... this asshole actually said, "like if i can pay some lady to clean my house, I will.. and do."  I responded, "you live alone right?"  "Yah" he says.  "You can't pick up after your damn self?"  This guy being single made so much sense.

The Rating.
The game is over, my beer is empty, he's ready to go.  Perfect.  Let's get the fuck out of this situation.
He walks me to my car and he says, "So what'd you think?"  I responded, "Excuse me?"  He repeats, "So what'd you think? I thought this was fun and we should do it again."  I look at him and I say, "Are you asking for a rating?" What the fuck am I supposed to say to this?  "Are we doing a 1-10? 1-5? a how likely are you?"  Fucking... you know what, just shoot me now... with Monica... she seemed like the best choice in your collection.

Lois Holds Hope...

In August of 2015 I was widowed at the age of 26 (don't worry this isn't going to get super depressing).  Needless to say it's been just over a year and it has been quite the journey.  Amongst the changing of jobs, finishing grad school, navigating life for the first time as an adult without my significant other (we met when I was 18)... the discussion and act of dating has also occurred.

The thing is, as I've just mentioned, I was very young when I met the man who would become my husband (Tom) ... and so I hadn't done a whole lot of dating back then and here I am now, having just turned 28 and trying to navigate not only dating in general, but what dating in 2016 looks like. Both the age and the current year have made quite the difference to how I last left the dating world.

For starters... Dating in 2016 involves apps, fucking APPS! What the fuck is that about?! And there isn 't just one, there are loads! And depending on the one you're on it states more about your intentions, but do not be fooled-- they all have nasty folks who just want to send you photos you never in your life thought you'd receive.  APPS! I just can't quite get my mind over this rat race of a world that we've come down to apps, but I will admit they can be useful in stream lining and filtering through the bullshit that can be dating which brings me to the next item... dating in your late twenties.

Dating at the age of 28 means it's amongst people who've been dating this entire time and are either very jaded by the shit they've come across or they're simply the trash left at the dump that everyone else has recycled through and found unsalvageable.
Here I am having just lost the love of my life who I've essentially grown up with as an adult and seen through some rather large trials and tribulations and felt the real meaning of a partnership and unconditional love... I had envisioned a whole life with this person and he the same with me and it just didn't play along the way we'd hoped (don't worry I meant it when I said this wouldn't be depressing).  The point is, I was fortunate enough to see all the wonderful sides of a great relationship and I miss the absolute fuck out of that and look forward to hopefully sharing that with someone again.
The problem is, those who are out there fall into the following categories:

1. The Narcissist Asshole (10%).  
They're just assholes and there's a reason they're single.  They might be attractive, successful, smart, or funny, but with a side of thinking that they're clear gifts to women (she says heavily sarcastically)... or they might not be attractive, successful, smart, or funny at all, but for some reason they're just incredibly large assholes.

2. The Peter Pan Dude (60%)
This guy literally has not done any emotional or intellectual maturing since the age of 14.  These are your "dudes" (we cannot call them "men") who have zero life ambition to not necessarily consider university and careers, but even consider something significant and full time.  These guys "just want to have fun" which means they just wanna drink, get high, and fuck bitches.  You will never "change" one of these guys and they might be funny, but they're fucking emotionally inept and aren't ever going to wake up magically as a man wanting commitment.  These are the dudes who still hang out with those same middle-school friends and is totally okay living in Grandma or Mom's basement and they skateboard down to their job at Taco Bell and then skate to their buddy's to smoke weed and play Call of Duty all night while drinking 40s of Mickeys... which is totally cool, I'm not hating... but it's not the "man" I'm looking to re-settle down with.

3. The Vintage Piece Just Needing Buffering (20%)
This is sort of what you kind of have to cross your fingers and toes for.  This is the divorced guy or the guy who's been in a long-term relationship or two.  Obviously this guy has some good shit going for him.  This guy was good enough that they were in a serious relationship of some sort, they know what it means to share space, they know what it means to share dreams and push one another (you hope), and something just went south.  So this is where you have to filter....
     Filter with:
                            A. Was it infidelity and on who's part?
                            B. Who left who and how long ago? How mutual was it?
                            C. Perhaps they just grew apart or weren't getting what they needed...

The problem here is also, how many times has this happened... there are some broken people out there and for someone such as myself, we must proceed with caution because B. is a danger zone (Archer reference) and you don't want to just be a part of rebounding and you don't want to get caught up in a lot of negative feelings... ain't nobody got time for that shit.  But the plus side is... again, this person has shown some serious potential and clearly wants all that good stuff that a functional and loving relationship offers.... (unless they're in the A filter as the one who just couldn't keep it in the pants).

The other interesting point in this category is that they tend to be "figuring out life" and you know what, I dig that.  Because I'm fucking figuring out my life right now too so it's kind of a good low-pressure situation; so long as both parties have some kind of goal and are ambitious and hungry for their bettering.  You don't meet a guy in category three who just has it all fucking figured out and Susie and him just weren't clicking anymore... usually Johnny's world is a little shaken as he's getting it back together to re-enter the market. Also, I've found the jaded cynics to also be incredibly witty and sarcastic. Category three fella knows what it can be like when it's "right" and he will be appreciative when that occurs. This category is really the category you want most...

4. The Forged Da Vinci Masterpiece (9%)
The guy who has it together but just has never found "the one".... here's the thing.  This guy may be a unicorn... or may be some fucking sociopathic danger.  This is the guy who is not only eye-appealing but has the house, the degree, the career, good with money, likes to travel, has no kids, hasn't had any serious relationships... but why?  He's gonna tell you he's just been "career focused" or "hasn't found the one" and call me a cynic, but girls are very attracted to a driven and attractive man so it begs the question "what the fuck is wrong with him?"
        This guy is going to:
                        A. Be terrible at texting or calling back
                             The problem here is that A. makes you feel like you're only worth his time when                                  convenient and he's never going to listen to a single story you tell and he's
                             probably not very funny and possibly not even very intelligent.
                        B. Be a desperate texter or caller and smother the fuck out of you which also means
                             he is that straight away PDA, constantly-fucking-touching you guy like the fly that
                             just won't fucking die and buzzes around everyone's food at the family gathering.
                             4B's are just disgusting because they will exhaust the hell out of you with their                                      need of attention. This is the man with mommy issues and so then you have to                                      factor that there will be crazy family attached as well. Just really a no-go zone.

**The 1% remaining is the guy who perhaps genuinely was just university and career focused, perhaps moved a lot, or just had some serious life things going on and is really kind of cool.... it's more or less just a margin of error because I just don't think this can be**


So that is your full evaluation of what dating at 28 and in 2016 looks like.  It's a fucking hell hole of disappointment.  The option is to just sit and hope and pray that you can find a #3 that isn't so broken that they might actually be willing to give you a chance and you might have some good times together.  But as you can see, this can be fucking dismal as hell when you're just missing what you had and you're hoping for a glimmer of that to happen again. The percents represent the general guesstimate of each of these categories in making up of the current late 20's-mid 30's dating pool.



Now, with all of that in mind... it's very hard for me to explain this to my Grandma Lois who (bless her heart) wants nothing more than for me to feel as loved and giving of love as I was fortunate enough to have experienced.  Every time I speak to this woman she asks if there's a fella on the horizon and then reassures me that I'll find one.  Every time I also remind her that I'm an independent woman and I don't need a man and that there really isn't very many good options out there. That said, it was very recently my birthday and I received the following in a letter from my grandmother:

Hi Laura,

Hope this card isn't late (it was, ha). 

I heard you have a boyfriend.  We are so happy for you.

You are still so young don't live your life alone. Just hope he's good to you that's all we want.  

It's important to note that there certainly was no boyfriend.  In fact, I'd actually gone on a really horrible date of a category 4B.... a FOUR B!!!! It was horrendous!  But apparently through a game of literal telephone, my grandmother was under the impression that I'd found a man who was going to now take care of me.  When we spoke on the phone and she so excitedly said "I hear you have a boyfriend" and I said "Who in the hell is spreading these rumors?!" She tells me it was my dad and then sounded so disappointed, saying "well we were just so happy for you to hear you had someone...." (she then caught herself and quickly said) "but of course you don't need anyone."  "That's right Grandma, I don't. I'm a strong independent woman."  "You'll find someone," she says. 

No pressure.  Thanks Lois.  Thanks for holding hope for me as I'm researching convents and wondering just how much manual labor would be involved and whether celibacy and not swearing would be things I could realistically handle.