Good afternoon. Let’s get things started right with a cocktail, friends.
• F@*# the Bahtendah •
Shot(s) of vodka over ice • Few oz. coconut lime aloe juice • Few oz. club soda • Few oz. cream • Squeeze of lime • Top with whipped cream if you want some extra love
Your personal Mixologist, Andrea
While we’re at it, F@*# dating too. In a surprise turn of events, the most recent offense caught me totally off guard.
A short time ago, a smart, attractive, family-oriented Christian guy asked me out. He planned our date to a new restaurant in Minneapolis and was chivalrous and seemed a bit old fashioned. Besides nice teeth these are two characteristics I really dig on. I decided I trusted him enough to let him pick me up at my home and see the neighborhood I live in (with hopes he wouldn’t just keep driving).
He was more handsome and fit than his photos had revealed and he was sharply dressed when he walked up to my door. Our 30 minute drive in his geezer pleaser was comfortable and filled with easy conversation. He went up a notch from rolling in a 4-door a-dult sedan when he told me that his good friend’s family owned the liquor store I purchase my produce from. For details on my local liquor farmer’s market, see here: https://wp.me/p8Sngm-dr Bingo baby.
Unholy Ghost (as I’ve aptly named him) let me hang onto him while I navigated walking on the cobblestone street of St. Anthony Main in my wedges and I discovered his biceps were even more developed than mine. He took charge at the restaurant and asserted himself to get us seated and I was all behind him like: Yep, what’s up first MN patio weekend and I’m walking in with this stud?! Awwwhh yeaauhh.
So we enjoy a pair of beers and we talk about mission trips and our shared love of God, Jesus and all things holy. My favorite part of the night was when I asked if he prayed before meals and he said yes. Then we bowed our heads and he prayed for us. I thought that was a pretty special moment. Needless to say, I was smitten. Which we know is big because it hardly ever (always) happens.
After dinner we went to another spot and shared some dry-as-a-popcorn-fart chocolate cake. He proceeded to tell me that he had only been drunk approximately 3 times in his life and he does not use swearwords. Well I had been drunk 3 times that week and I was certain just then, that I had spent the evening thus far cursing like a sailor. What the actual fuck.
Ok, the thrice drunk this week thing is a bit of an exaggeration. But the night before this date, my friend and I had tied it on immaturely hard. She got so knotted up, we had to pull our Uber over and I held her hair back as she blew Fireball chunks all over the mud. Ps. while this was happening, during a total of 7 shoe-splashing minutes, like 3 different vehicles stopped to see if we needed help. We were on the shoulder of a busy single lane thoroughfare on the Eastside when these kind people stopped to see if they could assist us. Let me tell you how passionate I am about Eastsiders today. Can I get an Amen! for the good samaritans who care about grown ass women who can’t handle their liquor? When psychologists cut loose y’all. To her credit, my absurdly out of control friend Wayne got my gal friend multiple Fireball shots that evening and I didn’t even stop it from happening. Sorry ‘bout it sister, you just got Wayneo’d.
Back to the date. So I’m beginning to feel like a bit of a heathen with this dude because I’m quickly realizing he might be a real good guy. Like the straight laced, not-all-messed-up-like-I-usually-like kind of a guy. Because he was a Christian, I made up in my mind that he would be polite, honest and extra caring. Turns out I was just a bit off on the polite, honest and extra caring part.
After dessert he brought me home and walked me to my door. In hindsight, this is the part of the night where most gals who maintain healthy boundaries would say goodnight. But you know I’m still learning to be moderate and build some proper limits y’all (don’t worry Mom, you can keep reading).
So Unholy comes in for a bit, we sit in my old antique couch and we throw on some Netflix and Chill. Consistent with dinner, he was a gentleman and respectful. He held my hand and put his arm around me, which I thought was especially endearing.
At this point I’m thinking this dude is really digging on me. I smell like beer, have heartburn and of course, I’m wearing my house slippers around like a real ole bittie. (Which I think is maybe slang for calling a gal a real old bitter woman? What the hell.) Anyway he is crunching on all this glory and it made me smile because I just felt so happy. Picture me grinning like a droolbaby watching Wind River, during the scene where the poor young girl is found frozen to death in the snow. I couldn’t believe a seemingly healthy Christian guy who I was interested in, who was smart, attractive and successful, was interested in me too. It was amazing for the whole 1 hour and 51 minutes of Jeremy Renner that it lasted.
After the movie ended, we said goodbye and I told him to text me when he got home safe, as it was much past his normal bedtime. I will digress here to say that it seems online dating of old is a bit different than my more recent experiences. People used to commonly end dates with a plan, like just straight say “I’d like to do this again.” Or, “would you be interested in seeing each other again?” But I don’t know if that’s a thing anymore. Now we just depart with the mutual vibes of the evening, knowing that we’ll either go out, or never speak again.
I would consider myself intuitive on most days but sometimes my hopeless romantic disposition can be blinding. I was thinking we’d definitely see each other again. In fact I felt like he was so into me that he was maybe going to ask to see me again the next day. And I don’t mean that to sound self-important. I mean I was shocked that he was all affectionate and connecting with me while I was the one who appeared more aloof. He texted me when he got home and told me he had a great time and wished me sweet dreams.
The next day I wrote him in the afternoon and we exchanged a few messages about how we were doing. I didn’t hear from him for a few days and that confused me a bit. I left him a message later that week and asked how he was and if he wanted to hang out again. You know what happened next?
The Rapture. Well, Jesus didn’t show up, but there was a rapid Christian disappearance. Or as the Latins would say, a “snatching away” of sorts.
A trumpet must have sounded somewhere. And I didn’t hear the archangel, but she must have sang something beautiful, because he done Unholy-ghosted my ass.
Part of me still can’t believe it – I haven’t heard from him to this day. But I guess it was only a matter of time before I would have a ghosting experience of my own. All my dates considered, I had a pretty good run.
For those of you who are happily married and don’t have to go through the pains of dating, being ‘ghosted’ is when someone you have been chatting with or seeing, goes missing on you. You probably had a good time together and there was really no indication that anything went wrong, but the person simply just never talks to you again. This can happen after one date or three weeks. It keeps things extra exciting and unpredictable, which we all know are elements we need more of in this life.
Unholy Ghost straight up disappeared. During The First 48, I’m thinking my odds of recovering him are okay, like I had maybe a 50% chance of reconnecting with him. Maybe he suddenly got sick; maybe his phone died and there are no more chargers on the face of the Earth. Maybe he’s been in an accident and he’s in the hospital. These are the stories and lies our brains come up with when we are trying to cope with something that doesn’t make sense. One day this guy is diggin’ on me and all over holding my hand and the next day, he’s MIA POW.
Today’s lesson is that just because a person says they are a Christian and love God does not mean they are going to be super nice or extra respectful while dating you. People do not like confrontation, or in my opinion, just being fucking honest. Regardless of their dogma, religion or spiritual leader.
Prior to this encounter, I thought a guy who speaks so freely about his faith and devotion would have morals he abides by. You know, like honesty, integrity, kindness and selflessness. Well that’s a bunch of shit. Actions speak louder than words and how a person behaves is what holds water. Or in Unholy’s case, doesn’t hold a fucking drop. And let’s not mince words here, I am not saying I am anywhere near a perfect Christian or behave as such. Clearly if you’re reading this, that goes without saying. But damn I try not to be straight mean and rude to people who are vulnerable around me.
You know I couldn’t resist texting his ass and scorning him after all was (not) said and done. I told him how his lack of response was inconsistent with how he acted on our date and that I thought he was rude. A sorry excuse for a Christian guy really, in my opinion. Yep, that’s what me practicing moderation this week looks like.
Don’t tell people you’re a good person and then act like a dickhead. It won’t work. And then you’ll get a blog written about what a coward weenis you are. And the author will go on to be a famous, beautiful, wealthy woman with defined arms and big Texas hair while you go on to sell your piety and lies to the next chick. What goes around comes around Unholy. While you’re busy ghosting a whole bunch of broads, the real Rapture may be upon those of us who are ready to meet God a bit sooner than those who are not. Ie. you, sucka. #leftbehind
Why is that damn phone alarm going off?! Oh yeah, to remind me to pour myself another date. • Me, ladies night at my house •