Month: February 2015

Doomful Online Dating: Religious Indoctrination

To recap – these are messages I get from complete strangers. They are the first contact I have ever had from them…on a DATING SITE.

With regards to this one –  just say NO kids…

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Incident Eighteen: Sherlock Holmes vs. AWS1

I met AWS1 at a night out. She was invited by other members of the group we hung out in. Although we had attended the same school, we had never really spoken.

I remember one morning logging onto Facebook to see photos from an event the night before, which I had been too ill to attend. There was this girl in all these brightly coloured clothes jumping around in a few of them. “She looks crazy” I thought, admiringly. She reminded me of how I’d been a few years back before Mr Weirdo had infiltrated the group.

You know when you’re at school and you see another kid you like, and you want to be friends, but aren’t sure what to say? That was pretty much how it was with AWS1. Eventually I blurted out that I’d like her to come out for my birthday in a weeks time and she agreed.

We clicked pretty much straight away. AWS1 was (still is!) smart, creative, a little bit quirky and wore her heart on her sleeve. She seemed to make choices based on what she felt in her heart. I admired her greatly for all these qualities. Mr Weirdo, of course, did not.

“She’s a bad influence on you,” he sneered, “She forgets that just because she’s single, you’re not. I don’t want you hanging around her whilst she’s out looking for men”

So, much like an affair in itself, we used to sneak out on nights out. It wasn’t so much about looking for guys either. We abandoned the other group and just went out dancing and joking with (or about) the strange people we’d meet in the city.

Mr Weirdo became increasingly irate until eventually he demanded to be guest to one of these nights out, as proof of my loyalty. AWS1, not knowing really what he was like at this stage, invited him to a Halloween fancy dress party.

I’d kept Mr Weirdo at arms length a bit with AWS1. She had met him a few times, but I was embarrassed to disclose how the relationship truly was, and was already edgy by the time it came round.

Mr Weirdo was wealthy and loved to show this off. He paid a local tailor to handsew him a complete Sherlock Holmes outfit. He made disparaging remarks about me and AWS1s store bought costumes.

At the event, the co-ordinater asked me if I knew Mr Weirdo. I said yes, and the co-ordinater grinned apologetically.

“That’s a shame! You would have won the females best costume otherwise!”

Mr Weirdo won best male costume. He spent the whole evening glaring at all the other guests, grimacing when they asked to pose with him, and sniffing at the bottle of wine he won as a prize. The photographer tried to take a photo of the three of us, but Mr Weirdo pushed me away savagely.

“It isn’t your competition” he snarled.

At one point I lost sight of AWS1 where she’d gone to the toilets. I went to sit with Mr Weirdo, who began lecturing me to pick better friends, as this one had clearly gone off to find men and just left me alone. Only he was here to look after me, he said, and sighed at the weight of this burden.

AWS1 of course returned and eventually we drove home. We were all dead silent in the car. As soon as she pulled up outside my house, before AWS1 had even turned the ignition off, Mr Weirdo was out of the vehicle.

“Give me your keys. Don’t take forever.” He snapped, and stormed inside.

I was horrified because it was like having to show a friend a vulnerability you aren’t ready to show them. I was terrified AWS1 really would dissappear, disgusted by how horrible he was, and surely by extension, how pathetic I was.

Instead, AWS1 looked at me kindly and said, “Don’t worry. We’re never inviting him again”

In my relief I became very tearful. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Rome, or the affairs, or the whole unconcious rape thing, but I expressed how lonely and trapped I felt.

The whole time, my phone was buzzing with furious messages; WHERE R U? HURRY UP. TELL HER YOU NEED TO GO TO BED.

AWS1 said to me, just before she drove away, “I’m making a wish for you that you’ll find someone better, who treats you how you deserve”

That wish was truly a lifeline.

The IT Guy – Part One

it-guy-0013This will be the last sad story I write for awhile – as I will revert to the deviance chapters of my life to date: those stories make me gleeful and are no doubt less depressing.

The IT Guy is the other male creature (Ref: Mr Northerner) that has had a notable impact on my life. But for all the wrong reasons.

TIG was the one that made me into the distrusting, scorned, generally unimpressed woman that I still am when it comes to men. He showed me what utter pigs men could be for no real, decent reason. I think a lot of women have *this guy* in their past, and he somewhat ruins them for future males due to the complete rotting to the core that takes place in certain respects.

Anyway. My TIG.

I was a lot younger than I am now, in many ways. I’d just broken up with a guy I’d been with for near on 4 years. TIG was a guy I knew (as ever, through “the professional network”) and we’d historically had a few chats and laughs. We had contacts in common as well so sort of orbited around each other in a larger social circle.

He asked me out one day. I said yes. After a couple of weeks we started seeing each other. All was going ok until I heard mutterings on the grapevine that his ex was coming back to the area – predominantly to get back with him. I heard nothing of this from him, naturally. Alarm bells should have started to ring at this point – they didn’t.

After a couple of months, things sort of fizzled out between us as a couple. Apart from the sex. The sex, throughout everything, was brilliant. Sometime after things fizzled out, we started hooking up casually. A lot. Everywhere. At pretty much every opportunity.

However, by this point, unbeknown to me, he’d gotten back with his ex – again, I heard rumblings on the grapevine but was somewhat uninterested in paying attention to them. What did complicate the situation was that his ex returned to working in the same organisation as him, meaning things had to be kept very discreet, especially in our shared circle.

TIG and I continued to hook up. There’s a saying about time being spent with someone, and how that grows emotion. I’d agree with this. By this point we admitted that we loved each other, and I knew he was back with his ex. He wasn’t prepared to rock the boat and risk his relationship with her, following how ours hadn’t worked out. He also claimed that my temper was quite terrifying to be on the end of – a stance he would use extensively in difficult situations with me over the coming…years.

To Be Continued….

Dating Horror Story: Mr ‘Flash Your Tits’

A short bedtime story, apologies for any bad dreams caused:

I had been speaking with Mr FYT for a few weeks. We had met on a dating website, found we had some common ground, and that we had attended the same university at the same time. It was all very civil, so we agreed to meet.

On the agreed meeting day he asked if I had any venue preference. I said I had a long day at work so I was absolutely starving, he said he had something in mind so I left it to him, thinking he knew somewhere we could eat near the station we’d agreed to meet at.

Just as I was about to get onto public transport to meet him, he messaged saying it might be nice to go to the park and to bring a drink. I’m not big into alcohol but thought it would be quite nice to have a cold drink in the park on a hot summer’s day. Oh how wrong I was…..

We met at the station which was near the park, the conversation was awkward on the walk there. Then he seemed to be leading me to a very specific bit of this park, almost as if he had been there before…..

We sat under a tree, conversation wasn’t going well. It all ended abruptly when he turned to me and said:

“So, you going to flash your tits at me?”

I was taken aback, there wasn’t any great amount of chemistry, he hadn’t made any attempt at intimacy, but was just expecting me to show him my boobs.

In my shock I didn’t tell him where to go, as I should have done (hindsight is beautiful isn’t it), but said ‘not until you’ve kissed me’.

Which he refused to do, for about 10 minutes, he then got up and said we were going to a different part of the park, the sun was beginning to set at this point, we got to another very specific tree and he said:

“You can suck me off here, no one will see”

At this point I quickly said it wasn’t going to work and walked off back to the station, and never heard from him again.

The incident leaves me bewildered to this day…

And there so ends another dating horror story.

What has your worst date been? Comment below and we’ll share more of ours

Mr Feline

catApologies for the absence. I have (unintentionally obviously) been off collecting subjects for this blog.

Mr Feline was named so due to his love of cats. I love cats too so this was a welcome quality.

Mr F and I saw each other for a good few months, things were generally ok and there were no significant issues.

Until last week, when he repeatedly forced his hand between my legs and touched me intimately without my expressed consent, when I was half asleep in bed. I was fully clothed and had given no indication that I “was in the mood.”

I feel stupid for allowing it to repeatedly happen, but at one point I thought I was imagining it like some sort of weird nightmare. And I felt guilty (as for medical reasons that don’t need to visit here) that we hadn’t had very much sex recently. And I thought he would stop. I was embarrassed at the thought of having to ask my partner to stop touching me. Or making a “drama” by saying no. Repeatedly telling him that I was asleep was not sufficient.

I left his house after the 3rd time he did it. I was so worried about upsetting him and prompting something unpleasant (as I know longer felt that I knew this man at all) I didn’t say anything. When I commented about his “attention” his reply was along the lines of “can’t blame me for trying / had to give it go.”

I spent the whole weekend in denial that it had happened. Then one morning in the following week, during my commute I started crying. I went to work, but the next day I took advantage of a private appointment to not attend work at all. It was that night I managed to get over my shame and embarrassment to speak to a few of my friends about it. The response was reassuring – it wasn’t my fault, I hadn’t given consent and he had taken advantage of the “lack of sex situation” in a very awful way.

When I messaged Mr F to end things, he apologised a lot but kept saying that he had “misread” the situation. He then said that he’d really miss me. This was somehow one of the worst parts. He couldn’t admit properly that he was in the wrong, and that there was a part of him that didn’t hear “no” – so it’s ok, right, to just access your partner intimately whenever it suits, basically? And sigh, how awful of me to break things off…

I hope to never see or hear from him again, but I fear for the next woman he has a relationship with, as he truly showed no indication of this character to me until it was literally too late.

Incident Seventeen: List of people sexier than you

At one point Mr Weirdo started getting a kick out of letting me know he thought other women were more attractive than me.

Now don’t get me wrong. I know if you’re in a relationship you don’t stop seeing other people as attractive. But at the same time it’s pretty impolite to advertise, no, declare it to your partner.
He wouldn’t do it with strangers, only with my friends. He’d say things to me like, “Susan’s* a really attractive creature, don’t you think?” or sonetimes as bold as “You should grow your hair long like Lacey*”

One day he said to me, “Out of our male friends, list five of them you’d most like to sleep with”.

I didn’t particularly want to sleep with any of them so I laughed it off and tried to change the subject, but Mr Weirdo was oddly fixated on this point. He pressed the question unwaveringly until I started to feel uneasy.

I thought about my male friends and decided if I had to sleep with anyone, better the ones I trusted most. Falteringly, I named a guy I was close to (and would later almost end things with Mr Weirdo for). Mr Weirdo’s mouth fell open, appalled.

“Him?! No. No, you’d much rather sleep with Mick or Dan*” These two boys were considered good looking, popular, brash and charming. They were everything Mr Weirdo aspired to be. He would loiter near them at house parties, laughing a little too long and too loud at everything they said, looking for any excuse to be in their corner.

“Do you know who, I would sleep with?” He asked me, and without awaiting a response he listed some of the slender, quiet but attractive girls in our group. Not any I was close to, but the ones I didn’t know that well. In a way of course, this was worse, because the girls I was closest to I wouldn’t feel were a threat. I knew them. I trusted them.

It was another way of isolating me from the wider circle whilst desperately trying to get himself further in. He started drinking copious amounts on nights out, revelling in the attention ot got him. Even if they were laughing at him, better that than the idea of them talking to me.

As I mentioned before, Mr Weirdo had become involved with an ex friend of mine in the group. She was a horrible person, quick to use her female friends and run them down behind their backs. She was very easy to hate, which of course worked well for Mr Weirdo as all the blame for the affair was easily shifted onto her.

I let Mr Weirdo have his affair, like I said. I sincerely felt relief that he could sleep with someone else and I could sit unhindered in the background. I was too shy and unkind to myself to leave.

And then I met Scorned Woman #1.

* All the names in this post are fake/generic pseudonyms