Today, I finally decided to throw all embarrassment aside and tell you all the story about The Coast Guard and how he duped me. The reason for my fury with men. The reason for my fury with myself. The reason I seriously need a date-cation. This isn’t exactly me at my finest moment, but I figure I learned something and so hopefully you will too.
A few months ago, during my online dating frenzy, I began talking to this guy. Almost 30, amazing teeth, fabulous body, works for The Coast Guard, and just an all around nice looking guy. He totally wasn’t my type, which should have been a red flag. But hey, hey. I was trying to broaden my horizons and truth be told, I was feeling a little lonely. So over the course of three weeks, we got to know each other, FaceTimed, and talked on the phone/texted. I was extremely busy, as was he, so we didn’t get to make plans for a while. He was honestly the sweetest thing. He knew what he wanted out of life. He told me he wanted to get married someday, have children, and just find a girl who was willing to move around with him and see all the different parts of the country. Honestly, it just sounded too good to be true, but at the time, all I could think about was how good it was.
We ended up finally making plans to go on a little date. He wanted to cook me dinner at his home in the city and then take it from there, to which I agreed. [Side Note: I DEFINITELY do not condone going to someone’s house when you’re online dating. I was ballsy and silly and lucky I was just duped and not murdered. End Side Note]. Off I went into the city for my date that Friday night.
I got to his place and was blown away. First of all, by him. Cuter than his pictures, far sweeter, and full of more compliments than my own mother could hand out on any given day. His place was beautiful. SPOTLESS. Almost in a neurotic way. And the best part was he had a rooftop deck that overlooked the entire city. On said rooftop deck was a garden full of fresh vegetables: Basil, mint, tomatoes, cucumbers, etc. It was breathtaking. I texted all my friends to let them know his address and that I was still alive [Thank God] and I was just so excited I finally met a normal guy.
He spent the rest of the time cooking and getting to know me. The dude made freshly marinated chicken with alfredo sauce, fresh vegetables from his garden, pasta, and garlic bread. Whaa? A guy who cooks? I was amazed. Obviously from talking to me, he knew I had a love for whiskey so while everything was finishing up cooking, he made me an Old Fashioned.
THAT was the first mistake.
One turned into two. Which turned into two and a half. Then, we ate dinner. Still, he was fabulous. We had great conversation, dinner tasted wonderful, and he looked at me with those big blue eyes which made my heart completely melt.
After dinner, we weren’t ready to part ways. We were honestly just having so much fun together. He asked me if I wanted to go downtown to the city and meet his friends for some drinks. I agreed.
MISTAKE NUMBER TWO.
We stayed at this one bar for the remainder of the night. EVERYONE, I mean, EVERYONE knew this guy. The bartenders, the regulars, and I even got to meet all of his closest friends. They were equally as sweet. Complimented my dress, told me funny stories about The Coast Guard, and his best friend even pulled me aside to say some really nice things about him. I was absolutely SOLD on this guy. Is this even for real?
Nah, Lara. He ain’t fo’ real. He’s fo’ serious fake. That’s the whiskey talking.
Speaking of whiskey, I forgot to mention MISTAKE NUMBER THREE: I realized after a solid 4 hours of heavy drinking that I was in NO condition to drive home. I live about 25 minutes North of the city and I could barely walk in my heels anymore, let alone operate a vehicle in Boston. So, he offered me a night at his place. No pressure. No funny business. Just a drunken sleep until I was okay to drive.
Oh, Lara. Why must you put yourself in these situations?
For anyone who thought I actually just went right to sleep that night, I’m sorry, but you are SO mistaken. As sweet and wholesome as I am, I have this aching need for intimacy, even if it’s not meant to be as wholesome as I am. Without using so many words, I’m a little addicted to sex. UGH. What a thing to admit. I know, most of you are giving me a sick bro! high five!, but honestly, it KILLS me that I have no self control! I’ve been trying. Honestly. I’ve been good with LM. Progress, people. Progress.
I don’t like single sex. It seems dirty and full of diseases (even with a condom). Gimme a boyfriend, and all bets are off. Daily madness. I need daily. madness.
But like I said, no self control.
Alas, he woke me up with a kiss the next morning and I was completely satisfied. I was like, “You know what, Lara. You guys had a connection. He’s sweet. Don’t feel so ashamed. You’re not exactly a nun.” I had to leave early that morning because I had beach plans with a girlfriend, so I got out of bed, grabbed all of my cloth-…
Um, dude? Where’s my underwear?
This guy was clean as a whistle. His room was SPOTLESS. And those were my favorite undies.
So I looked EVERYWHERE. Under the bed, all over the floor, even on top of the bed.
I gave The Coastguard a little nudge. “Um, Mr. Coastguard. Do you know where my underwear is?”
It was at that moment that he groggily reached over his bed to his nightstand and opened the drawer. Inside, I saw an endless amount of condoms, lube, a pair of handcuffs, and WAIT FOR IT WAIT FOR IT: My hot pink Victoria’s Secret thong.
“Did you honestly just steal my underwear?”
So on my way out, I took a few cigarettes from his pack. I figured if he was going to thief my ‘roos, I was gonna thief some butts. And that was how I never heard from The Coast Guard again. I tried texting him later that night, but his responses were very short and not the way they used to be, so I just gave up.
So, yeah. Three weeks of him sweet talking me, cooking me dinner, making me drinks, taking me out, all to seal the deal and attempt to “steal” the deal. It wouldn’t have bothered me if it was just a fling, but…it wasn’t supposed to be. I’ve been known to do a random night in my day. Had this been known from the BEGINNING, it would have been a different story. I would have rejected him, but that’s because I’ve been trying to turn over a new leaf. I wanted a relationship. A real one. Not a one night stand, cupped with a hangover and missing panties.
Luckily, it was only one date so it wasn’t too much of a low blow, but rest assured I drank lots of whiskey that night and reminded myself of how I will be with these holidays coming up. Especially Valentine’s Day. The first single VD. Lord, help me. Or rather, Lord Jameson, help me.