Tag Archives: first-dates

I Know You Are Wondering…

16 Nov

I know you all are on the edge of your seat right now.  How was Esme’s date??  What crazy story does she have for us this time?

Well guess what…I don’t.

No crazy story.

I don’t mean I was stood up (for the fifth time).  I mean the date went really really well.

I was hesitant about this date, especially following the ‘Please show up’ text message.  I had myself convinced that the picture online was ten years old, and he now weighed 300 pounds with a World of Warcraft addiction.  For reals, yo.  I had myself in a tizzy.

When I walked into the restaurant, I saw him standing there.  I walked over, and out my mouth spewed:  Oh my, I am so glad you look like your picture!

Slick, Esme.

But he laughed, and we sat down.  Conversation flowed.  We ate.  We drank.  We told stories.  Time passed way to fast.

He had to go since he had to work in the morning.  He walked me to my car, and asked if he could see me again.  Then he kissed me.  Not a tongue-I’m-gonna-devour-you kiss, but a couple of very awesome kisses.  And man…can the boy kiss.

I really really hope I hear from this guy.  I am actually giddy 🙂

Much love, Esme


I’m A Tad Crafty…

16 Nov

Due to my total and complete boredom, I decided to try my hand at a craft.  I made flower barrettes/clips!  Since they came it decently cute, it’s what my younger cousins are getting from me for Christmas.







I may be a tad crafty.

And in other news, I have another date tomorrow.  This guy is the third guy who is interested in going out with me that I mentioned before.  Did that just make ANY sense? 🙂

And yes, I did have to have the money talk with him.  He wants to go to a pretty expensive seafood restaurant.  I told him that I am on an incredibly strict budget, and I simply can’t afford said restaurant.  He paused and said: Well, but I asked you out.  I’m paying.

Well shit, I just felt like a damn idiot. I tried to explain, in what I felt was an exercise in futility, that the last several dates I have had to pay for myself.  I held my breath, waiting for him to cancel.  He was properly taken back and reiterated that this was on him.  I feel like I just put a bad mark on this, but we will see.

Later this evening, though, he may have made us even.  He sent a text saying: Please show up tomorrow.

Guess he isn’t having great luck either…

Much love, Esme

Another Tick In The Douchero Column

12 Nov

So after the stood up fiasco (and by the way…I never heard from that guy again), I got asked out the next night.

I have been communicating with this Douche (D3) for a couple of weeks.  I met him online, he is kinda sorta in the same profession as me, and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.  So when he asked me out last-minute, I said OK.  Free drink, possibly good company, so why not.  I figured the worst that could happen was I would be stood up again.

I got dressed in jeans and a sweater.  I put on make-up, which takes forever with one arm.  I wound up putting on way too much eyeliner, but I liked it, so I left it as is.  (Tangent-do you find you wear more make-up when you are trying to hide or when you feel more guarded?  Because I do.  I’m not quite sure why.)  I dug some heels out of the closet, and I was off to my second date in two days.

D3 and I arrived at the same time.  Bonus point for him.  He dressed nice, another point for D3.  But it wasn’t a great date.  Conversation was difficult and strained, I wasn’t comfortable.  There was NO WAY this was going to go anywhere, but I figured we may be able to make a friendship out of it.

D3 ate a burger, and I had a beer.  A BEER,  Not two beers, not Dom Perignon, ONE BEER.  3.75.  That’s it.

When I finished my drink, D3 asked me if I wanted another.  I declined, and said I needed to go home to take some pain meds.  Who knew the shoulder would come in handy?  Our bill arrived, he looked at it, and said:

Your part is 4 dollars.

Uuummmm…excuse me??

Did he not ask me out?  Did he not eat a huge, expensive dinner?  And he has the nerve to ask me to pay four fucking dollars?

I had no cash, so I pulled out my debit card, and told the waitress to put my drink on my bill.  When she came back, I said I needed to go and left.  He took my abruptness as pain, and texted me later saying he hoped I was feeling better.

OK-What the fuck??  I don’t know how many times I have had to pay for myself since I have been dating.  Many MANY times would be the most accurate answer.  It’s not like we are 18…far from it.  These guys run the gamut from 28 to 38.  Were they not taught basic dating rules?

The lack of chivalry has left me completely speechless.  I can’t even type the words to make this post sound more eloquent.  It’s just fucking ridiculous.

I have one more guy who wants to go out with me.  And I just can’t afford it!  I think I am going to have to tell this guy that since I am on such a strict budget, we have to go to McDonald’s.  Or I will have to say I just can’t afford to go out on a date right now.  Christ…I never thought this would be an issue.  How fucking embarrassing.

Love, Esme

I Hate Dating Take 5000…

10 Nov

So with everything going on the last week and a half, I decided I needed to get out and focus on something else.  I can feel myself falling into a bit of a depression, and I need to crawl out of it.

There is this guy that has been trying to get me to go out with him for the last three months.  He is a persistent little fucker.  I finally gave in.  I figure it would get me out, and it was a free meal.  My cooking abilities have been greatly diminished with my bad shoulder.

I got to the restaurant and the agreed upon time, and got a table.  I never wait for someone to show…I feel like an idiot standing at the door.  I chose a table that faced the door.  I was able to see the entire room.  There was one door in, and one door out.  If anyone was going to enter, I would see them.  I feel like I am beating a dead horse, but there was no way anyone could get by me.  Now that has been settled, let’s continue.

5 minutes in…no Douche.  10 minutes in…no Douche.  I ordered myself  bowl of delicious Loaded Baked Potato Soup…still no Douche.  I eat my soup, paid, and left.  I was there for 35 minutes total.

As I was getting into my car, I got a text.  What time were you thinking?

Oh.  Hell.  No.

E: I was there at the agreed upon time of noon.  I have now left.
D: I was there.
E: No you weren’t.
D: I was.
E: I dislike liars.  I was there, I ate, I could see the whole room.  Not one guy walked in alone while I was there.  Not one.  Nice try.

I never heard back.

All I wanted was one hour of not focusing on all the shit that happened last week.  I wanted to talk, laugh, have a drink, and think about something else.  Apparently, not meant to be.

Now, this is the fourth time I have been stood up.  1-2-3-4.  FOUR.  I DO NOT understand the standing up thing.  And I sure as hell don’t understand lying about it.  And normally I don’t take this shit personally.  But I have had such a SHITTY week, that I couldn’t help but to take it personally.  Just.  Couldn’t.  Help.  It.  I actually cried.  To be honest, I don’t think getting stood up is what I was really crying over…I think it was my dad.  But getting stood up pushed me over the edge.

I have to admit that I had a few moments of self-doubt.  Maybe my ex was right, and I really am unlovable.  There must be something about me that men just don’t like.  I’m the common denominator here…what is wrong?

Then I snapped out of it.  These guys don’t know me, so how can they judge my character?  I think I just truly attract doucheros, and that is the only problem.  And as for being unlovable, I think I haven’t found anyone worth letting love me completely.  If I had, I would not have content for this blog.  So I am not worried.  Yet.

To try to bump up this day a little bit, I put in a call to Medic.  Unfortunately, he is working until pretty late.  If he isn’t too tired, he will hop on by.  I hope he does…I want to jump his ass as soon as he walks in my door.  I told him as much, too 🙂

Love, Esme

Date. And An ‘I’m Not Sure I Should Have Done That’ Story…

11 Jun

So I stood outside, waiting for this guy to show up.  At noon he did text me and tell me he was going to be a little bit late.  OK, at least I got a text, but I was still not happy.  At ten after, I texted him and told him I was going in to have a beer.  Fuck this.  If he didn’t show, I was still going to drink.  And by now, I was just angry.

A few minutes later in breezed a very tall, very muscular blond-haired blue-eyed man.  He came to rest at my table, and he looked very apologetic.  I’m so sorry, he said.  I didn’t know the highway (that runs by the restaurant) was under construction!  I feel like such a shit!

Well…that was a good start.  He sat down, and I studied him while he talked to the waiter.  He was thin.  But not anorexic thin.  A work-out fiend thin.  Strong.  Angular.  He later told me he used to be a martial arts fighter.  Well, there you go!  That’s how he got that body.

We talked for three hours, and it only felt like one.  We talked about work, hobbies, favorite trips, etc.  He asked very little about my marriage and divorce, and I was actually OK with that.  He was interested in me as a person.

As we talked I noticed he had a small facial tick that would normally not get noticed.  Fighting injury, was the reply.  Surprisingly, this didn’t bother me (as weird things usually do).  It made him more…endearing.  New name: Fighter.

I called an end to the date when I realized how long we ha actually been there.  Damn…broke a rule.  He paid for the meal (and my two drinks I consumed in my anger earlier) and walked me outside to my car.  Then he gave me a hug.  Not just any hug…one of those full body hugs.  Strong full body hugs.  God DAMN this guy was strong.  And my mind was fantasizing.  I told him I had a great time.  He said he did as well.  Later that day I got a couple of texts from him, but no offer of a second date.  We will see.

Here is the second part to the title of this story…fuck fuckitty fuck…

On the drive back my truck started making some crazy noise.  I know this noise to be a loose belt.  SHIT.  I called the first person to come to mind.  My favorite-and only mechanic.  Mr. Hottie.

E: Dude, my car is making a loose belt noise, can you please look at it so I don’t die in a fiery crash later today?
M: I’m at my place.  Swing by and I will take a look.
E: I am coming just for the truck.  Understood?
M: Babe, I have shit to do, either come by or not.

So I headed that direction.  I pulled into his driveway, and he sauntered on over to me.  All business, after a sexy little smile.  He spent a good 20 minutes looking in the engine, told me what needs to be replaced, and gave me a list of things to buy.

E: How much is all of this going to cost me?
M: Just parts.
E: Really?  That’s it?  I don’t know what to say.
M: Why don’t you come in for a drink.
E: I thought you have shit to do.
M: *sexy smile* Oh Babe, I do.

Damn.  I followed him inside, all the while giving myself a mental pep talk.  Just a drink.  One drink.  I haven’t seen him in over a year, and we are just going to catch up.  THAT’S IT.

He handed me a water.  I looked at it stupidly.  I didn’t even realize he went to the kitchen and back.  I looked up at him when he grabbed my wrist and flipped it over.

M: What’s this?   A fucking tattoo?  You marred your body?  Only french whores get tattoos.  (He does NOT like tattoos on women, and I snapped out of my stupor)
E: You aren’t my fucking boyfriend.  And it’s my body.  I can get a tattoo if I damn well please.  And who the fuck are you to tell me I can’t?  Go fuck yourself!  (I’m so eloquent.  I pushed him away from me with a good amount of force)
M: Now that’s the Esme I’ve been wanting.  Not the meek chick that walked in here.

Before I could register what he just said, I found myself flat on my back on his couch.  His lips kissing, his hands roaming.  Clothes discarded throughout the room.  I couldn’t get him close enough to me.  God, how I wanted this guy.  I was scratching and pulling hair, he was manhandling me in such a way that I am blushing as I write this.  It was animalistic, urgent, and just fucking hot.  Damn I have missed sex with this guy.

M: Next time, I will make sure you have a bed, and a hell of a lot more of my time.


Much love, Esme

Maybe Something New?

31 May

A few days ago I received the following text message:

Esme, do you want to come out tonight with me and a friend?  It’s trivia night, and it will be a lot of fun!

Hmmm…a little background on this individual we will call Medic…Medic and I have known each other for a few years.  Four or five, I’d say.  He is younger than me.  Significantly younger.  About 7 years.  Medic doesn’t act younger than me.  All those years ago I would have placed him maybe two years younger.  But if I have learned anything in the last two years, it’s not to judge prematurely.  Sooooo when I received the text message, I responded.  And I love trivia…I’m just full of useless information…I couldn’t resist!

So I went to trivia night.  We won (bitches) and stayed to talk a while afterwards.  I told him he looks good.  Happy, Medic, you look happy.  He asked me if I wanted to join him for drinks tomorrow.  I smiled and said absolutely.

I met Medic out the next day at 4pm.  We drank.  Quite a lot.  We played darts and drank some more.  We went to go see a movie.  And you know what?  Absolutely nothing happened.  There was no brushing against my leg.  No reaching for my hand.  No trying to sneak a kiss.  He did lean…and anyone who has seen While You Were Sleeping knows what I am talking about..but nothing came of the lean.  When he dropped me back off at my car, he gave me a hug, and told me to call him the next day.  That was it.

How do I take this?  I’m a little weirded out by the fact that he didn’t try to make a move on me.  I can’t even tell if he is into me.  I guess time will tell.

Any thoughts??

Love, Esme

Who Knew These Things Existed?

9 Mar

Sup, yo?

OK, so I alluded to the fact that I went to this ‘Lock and Key’ event last Saturday.  And I don’t even know where to begin…so I am going to delve right into this…ummm…event.

So I am a couple of days removed from the hospital.  I still have heroin user looking arms.  I still have hardly any energy.  But goddamn I am going to this thing because it has GOT to be hilarious.  And it really did not disappoint.

This dating event was in a place where douche lords reign supreme.  I truly don’t know another way to put it!  I told my girl Jadyn-I swear to god if I see a popped collar, it will just make my fucking night.  She laughed.  And I should have put money on it.  We get there, and we are literally one of the first people there.  The chick in charge of the even introduces us to the only other person there…a tall old nerd.  Fucking GREAT. The event was open to 21-50 year olds, so I was just imagining how many OLD douche bags we were going to meet.  People did start showing up, and thankfully some looked to be our age.

The head chick came around and gave Jadyn and I locks.  Small ones, attached to a long string.  When I put it around my neck, it hung below my boobs.  Awesome.  That meant the d-lords wouldn’t have to get too close.  I looked around at the guys, trying to find some cute ones to approach.  What I found instead was a little horrifying…in the male-looks sense.  A popped collar (WIN), a dude with a white button down shirt with a phoenix stitched on the back of it.  A short balding man with a shark’s tooth necklace front and center with his shirt half-unbuttoned.  As I was talking to other guys, I found men who have done seven to nine of these events.  Who said they expected to meet their soul mate at one of these events.  Guys who actually tried using pick-up lines.  Guys whose first words out of their mouths was about how much money they make.  For fucking REAL?? Were Jadyn and I the only ones who saw this purely as entertainment value?

Finally I saw someone who caught my eye.  Slightly taller than me, definitely Irish, unshaved and wearing a ball cap.  Someone who wasn’t taking this seriously.  He walked in with a friend who looked like he was taking it seriously.  I was plotting on how to talk to this Irish guy…

Turns out I didn’t have to think about it long.  He found me.  He tried to unlock my lock (sounds so sexual…tee hee), was unsuccessful, and we both moved on.  He kept coming back around, trying again.  ‘I know it won’t work’, he would say, ‘but I just have to try again’.  He examined my lock, found a number on it, and walked away.  A few minutes later he returned, and tried again.  And it worked!  He then admitted he bribed the guy guarding the locks and keys.  Awww…

We talked the rest of the night, kind of ignoring everyone else. He made me laugh.   He bought me a drink, and he asked me for my number.  I gave it.  Soon enough (or not soon enough, depending on how you look at it), it was over.  Jadyn and I found each other, and so did this dude and his friend.  Then the subject of going out to eat came up.  Why the fuck not, I already went to a damned dating event, why not dinner at ten at night with two guys we just met?  What the fuck could happen?

We had some more drinks, we laughed, we had fun.  We wound up back at Friend’s house.  How the hell did THAT happen?  Irish dude and I went on the patio to talk.  And he kissed me.  And I felt a weird fluttering in my stomach.  What the fuck was that?  We go back into the house, Jadyn looked ready to leave, I was ready to leave, so we left.  I didn’t expect anything else out of it but a great blog entry.

Surprise of all surprises, Irish dude texted me the next day.  And we went back and forth for quite some time.  I heard from him the next day.  I heard from him quite often.  Not stalker often, but enough to know he was interested.  So yesterday day he asked me to dinner.  He said he would cook for me, and sweetened the deal by telling me his apartment complex has a hottub.  (OK, just a side note here…does anyone else thing of the SNL skit with Eddie Murphy singing ‘In The Hottub’ as James Brown?  Every time I say hottub…haha!!  There it goes again!)  A man who will cook for me, and who can take me hottubbing?  So in…

He made an amazing meal of roast beef and vegetables.  He took me to the hottub (Ah-hahahahaha!!!).  We watched a movie and had a couple of beers.  And he kissed me again.  And again.  And he was such a good kisser…that we did a little more.  Well, he did a little more to me.  No, I did not sleep with him, but damn did I want to.  No no no, this was All.  About.  Me.  And ladies, how often do we get to just lay back and enjoy without having to do ANY work?  Oh yeah, that was me.  And it was fucking phenomenal.  Holy shit, if he is that skilled with his hands, what the hell is everything else going to be like?

I finally passed out in my post-orgasmic sated bliss.  I woke up several times during the night, and whenever I moved he put his arms around me.  I MISS THAT. I miss that basic human contact.  He would graze my forehead with kisses, run his fingers up and down my arm.  SIGH SIGH SIGH. I think I may have purred…

He had somewhere to be early.  But he got up and cooked me bacon and eggs while I was in the shower.  He walked me to my car.  He was a perfect gentleman.  He did ask me why I didn’t sleep with him.  (Not that he was complaining-he said I made him feel like quite the man with my response to him last night).  I was honest.  I told him I would really like to see him again, and I worried I wouldn’t if we had sex.  He laughed and told me that he had every intention of seeing me again…regardless.

We will see…

Love, Esme

And for your viewing pleasure:  In the hottub!  Yeah!