This One May Take The Cake!

Dear Redneck,

I really think you may have taken the blue ribbon for worst first date conversation EVER.

I, against my better judgement, let someone set us up.  I knew nothing about you.  We didn’t talk prior to the date, and our one-and-only text just confirmed the time and place of the date.  Let’s just recap what happened, shall we?

The no good, bad, and very ugly-

• You wanted to meet at a bar in the bowling alley.  And I for some reason went along with it.
• You were filthy…hands dirty, clothes all messed up.
• Literally two minutes into the date, you told me your three rules for being your woman…never look at your phone, never look in your wallet, and never try to stab you.
• You have eight (EIGHT!) children, but that it’s not as bad as it sounds since it is with three different women.  And even though they all have mothers, it would be awesome of me if I wanted to make them breakfast before school when they are over.
• Amazingly enough, after that you told me you are not that into sex. That it should only be used when you feel the need to make a connection with someone…never as a time-filler, never because you are bored, never because you are just plain horny.
• Then you told me you are not much of a boob-man.  You said you are not a fan of playing with breasts during sex, but if it is something I enjoy, you will do it for a minute or two.  But that’s it.
• Apparently it is OK if I don’t want to see you everyday, but I need to check in with you once a day…even if it is through text message.
• Not that all of that wasn’t worth me walking out on you, this one was the last straw.  You said you have never been mad enough to hit a woman, and I should consider keeping it that way.

I mean, WOW.  I was speechless while you were talking.  I had a small smile on my face because I was just imagining how this letter would go.  When you remarked about the last bullet point, I lost my smile and became angry.  I have a very twisted sense of humor and can laugh at just about anything.  However, as a past victim of domestic violence, I DO NOT tolerate any jokes or mention of DV.  I put a quick end to the date and walked out.  You somehow managed to think I left because I didn’t feel good, and I have received texts all day asking me if I feel better.  I have ignored them.

Even prior to the domestic violence comment, you were not scoring any points!  I don’t understand the thought process behind any of those conversations.  And I really can’t even respond to anything you said…speechless!

Love, Esme

15 Things You Don’t Know About Me

Dear Readers,

I thought it might be fun to give you an idea of who I am and what I believe.  So here you go…15 truths of Esme.

1. I am a proud firefighter/paramedic, and couldn’t imagine doing anything else!  But little known fact–I hate fire.  I break out in a cold sweat when I have to go into a burning building.  However, afterwards you can’t shut me up about how much fun it was.

2. I believe date #4 doesn’t exist, because I have never seen it.  I think it will be fantastically phenomenal, and fireworks will go off.  In fact, a national holiday should be claimed when I do make it there.

3. Even though I have a manly job, I am not gay.  Haven’t even considered it.  But I am not a man-hating feminist either.  I just have a job, and I do it well.

4. I truly believe that real men, as in ruggedly handsome can live off the earth but will still open doors for you men, don’t exist anymore.

5. I don’t believe in soul mates and one-true-loves.  I believe you can be happy with a number of people, if you are lucky enough to find one.  And I believe some people never find one.

6. I have an irrational fear of becoming a lonely blue-haired old woman with 20 cats.

7. Irrational because I am a dog person, and everyone knows dogs are better than men…so I wouldn’t be lonely.  And if I ever did have blue hair, it would look awesome on me.

8. I recently found out that my measurements are comparable to Marilyn Monroe’s…except I am 4 inches taller.  Yep, I have an hourglass figure.  While not sexy in today’s society, I LOVE IT.

9. Due to my marriage, and my dating history, I firmly believe men can’t tell the truth.  I also believe that because of this belief, I will sabotage a relationship with Mr. Right when he does finally come along.

10. One of the best decisions, although hardest decisions, I made was moving out-of-state.  I love it here.

11. I have had a great number of dates, a lot of which I have written about on here.  If nothing remotely interesting happens, I don’t write about it.  So far, I have been stood up 3 times, brushed off many times more (Stupid guys have no idea what they are missing)  But with all of the bad, I have had some good…well, decent…dates.  But the bad sometimes brings me down.  No one likes rejection.

12. Prior to Perfect, I have never been broken up with.  I tend to be proactive if things aren’t going well.

13. I am a huge, HUGE sports fan.  More than some guys, I think.  Hockey, football, baseball…yes please.  My favorite show is Sportscenter.  What constitutes a great date in Esme’s world?  Cold beer, big screen TVs, and a game or two.  Woot!

14. Actions mean more to me then words.  Anyone can talk, not everyone can actually do.

15. I absolutely love who I am.  I worked hard to be the person I have become, and I refuse to hide or change anything about myself.    Everything I have been through has made me an incredibly strong woman, and I am grateful for it.  As a friend once said-I am perfectly broken, and I don’t need anyone to fix me.

Can’t Believe I Had To Go Through This

Dear Very Rude Guy,

We met through friends, talked some, built up a good rapport.  We talked on the phone a few times, and you kept dropping hints about us going out.  When you finally asked, I actually got a little excited!  I just knew we would have a good time…you wanted to go bowling.  I fucking LOVE bowling!  How could this not be fun?

The night finally arrived.  I got dressed carefully and eagerly.  Did my hair in some sexy loose curls, make-up done to perfection.  Oh yeah…I went all out.  I was looking forward to this.

You were to pick me up at 7.  7 came and went.  730.  8.  I went into my room and changed into sweat pants.  Put my amazing hair in a ponytail.  No phone call, no text.  Nothing.  I was too angry to try to get a hold of you that night.

Two days later I finally texted you: So what happened?  I’m not even worth a phone call?

You: Got busy.

Me: Aww…too bad for you.  You were gonna get laid.

I got quite a number of apology texts after that.  My phone rang later on.  I let it go.  Did I respond to any of your ‘apologies’?  Nope.  I think I finally found the one thing that makes you all tick…

Love, Esme

Are We Really Doing This Again?

Dear Firemen,

THAT IS IT!  I am becoming racist against my own career.  Do you call that a careerist?  So be it, careerist.  I am a proud careerist.  I am never, EVER! again going out with another firefighter.  Here is a short letter, for you guys, about a short date.

One of you asked me out, after knowing what I do for a living.  I will give you a minute to digest that…got it?  Good.

15 minutes into said date, I get told:  You know, I don’t think I could ever date a female firefighter.

What.  The.  Fuck.

I told him the date didn’t need to go any further, since I am a proud fireman.  And I won’t date someone who can’t, or won’t, support what I do for a living.

Since when did we, as a fire service, hire a bunch of pussies?  And am I really more of a man then some of you?  DONE.

Love, Esme

Ric…you know you can comment!  Look forward to the insight!

One Last Tango

Dear Mr. Hottie,

This letter I write, after not writing you for a while.  After our dinner, we did remain friends.  You did some work on my car for me, I took you out to dinner to show my appreciation.  We were not physical anymore.  I was pretty impressed we were able to maintain this friendship.

On the night I broke the news to you I was moving, you became quiet.  Then you put your hand on my cheek and caressed it gently.  (That is such a sensual, if not amazingly personal, gesture)  Esme, you said, I am really going to miss you.  That admission startled me.  I didn’t know what to say.  I’m going to miss you too, I replied.  Then you just held me for some time.  I think my eyes even leaked a little.

My last day in town, I called you in a panic because my tie-rod needed to be replaced on my car…the car I was driving 3500 miles in 4 hours.  The car that could NOT break down in a snowy mountain range.

Esme, you yelled.  Calm down!  It’s an easy fix!  Bring your car over in an hour and a half.  I will take care of it.

I brought my car over, and you absolutely did fix it for me.  Some of my stress melted away.  Then you checked the fluids, made sure everything else was good to go.  You turned to me, told me to follow you into the house.  I did, no questions asked.

Once inside, you turned to me.  So it has been awhile, you said.

Me: Awhile for what?

You: Us.

Me: Oh. (Brilliant answer, right?)

You: When are you leaving?

Me: 2 hours.  (By now, you were sauntering closer to me, with that gleam in your eyes and that smirk on your face.  My legs were getting shaky)

You: Plenty of time.

You grabbed me around the waist, and spun me toward the stairs.  Clothes began coming off as we fought our way to the bedroom, hands never leaving each others bodies.  What followed was amazing.  Passionate.  Furious.  Multi-orgasmic.  Loud.

After, we walked back down the stairs, picking up our clothes, getting dressed.  Not talking.

I put on my coat, looked at where you were standing, and waited.

You: I did not mean for that to happen.  But I’m not sorry.

I smiled, and nodded my agreement.

You smiled back, then said: How’s that for going out with a bang?

I laughed, gave you one last hug, and left.  I took one last look as I pulled out of the driveway, and then left you behind.

Love, Esme

Are You Kidding Me!?

Dear Over-Emotional,

So you were one of the first guys I met here in New State.  Cute, unattached.  Everything I am looking for.  I thought we would get along well enough, for the time being, and have some fun.  Apparently we were not on the same page…

We went out on our first date, met for lunch.  Good date, good enough for date two.

Date two went off without a hitch.  We met for drinks at a bar.  Still didn’t kiss, nothing physical at all.  However we talked and had fun.

Date three was dinner and a movie.  This is when you started acting weird.  Talked of how you hated dating, but you were relationship ready.  Bells started dinging, warning horn blared.  Because of intuition, I didn’t let you give me a good night kiss.

The next day is when you erupted.  At ten in the morning, I received this text from you: There is nothing stopping us.

Me: ?

You: From being together forever.

WHAT??????

M: the fact that I barely know you, and that forever is a long time.

What followed were several very long texts about how I was what you were looking for, and you were ready to be married again.  I ignored these, as they made me a little uncomfortable.  When I didn’t answer you began e-mailing me.  I got 8 e-mails in a 30 minute period.  8!  Asking if I missed you yet.  Telling me to stop dating like a man and be your woman.  I finally had to send you an e-mail, asking you to not contact me again.  Amazingly enough, you complied.  Haven’t heard from you since.

What in the hell made you do that?  I would say completely drunk, but then you would have had to drink all day, because that is how long it lasted.  Granted, I am one hell of a woman.  Must be it.  Fricking weirdo…

Love, Esme

It’s been some time!

Dear Readers,

I know what all of you are thinking…Esme, where have you been?  Lucky for you, I have the answer!

I moved to a different state, and have been settling in nicely.  New state means, you guessed it, new guys!  And believe me, I have had my hands full.  The one nice thing about being new…you are fresh meat…to put it vulgarly.  Look for some new letters very soon!

Love, Esme