Ex Files: The Haunting

Investment Piece: Ex Files: The Haunting

We’re back!! That’s right it’s Ex Files, dating horror stories, my final attempt to live my life a la Carrie Bradshaw. (And let’s not pretend horror only lives in fiction. Some of my ex files: The Ghosting, Tinder on an Airplane, The One Who Wouldn’t Take No, and of course The One Who Asked for his Money Back. More can be found under “Ex Files” in the search bar). And because it’s almost Halloween, and nothing’s scarier than dating gone wrong, we’re chatting about Haunting!

We all have an ex that won’t die. There’s a reason they call it “I miss you season”; every once in a while, an ex who’s been gone makes their reappearance. Then trick can be deciding if you should give them a second chance or not! Here are just a few of my stories of exes that came back to Haunt me!

What’s up, love?
Mario went on 2 dates over a few weeks. It was clear from the beginning that neither of us were really looking for anything serious. He was lovely–but there was no click. So when things fizzled out, I thought nothing of it. However, like clockwork, every 2 months I get a text. Everything from “what’s up, love?” to “I miss you”. At first, I thought these were a little sweet. But, as this trend has continued, it’s become annoying. We didn’t really have anything. And no matter what he’s coming back for, it’s not here.

The One I Haven’t Met
There’s always that group text you can’t really get out of’ mine involves people from college. And in the group, I don’t know everyone–but everyone is friend’s of someone I do, so I thought nothing of Dave began occasionally texting me outside of the group, it was mainly about our college team, and it was fun. However, over time, it was clear that he thought there was a connection above football. I gently let him know that I was seeing someone, and wasn’t interested. Dave was lovely and we went back to being “group text” friends. Yet, at least once a month I get sent a random meme/thought/suggestion we get together.

U Up?
Raise your hand if you’ve been haunted by an ex. We all have. From the “I miss you” text to the un-orginal “U Up?”, there’s always a feeling when someone is about to reappear. (Apparently the kids now call it “Zombie-ing”) These pop-ups can be pleasant, or down right scary (depending on the ex). I have a friend who has a theory, they all come back. And most of the time, she’s right.

So, I would love to know : who’s an ex that’s haunted you?

Wishing us all a haunting free week and amazing shoes! XO RA

The Ex-Files: Self Care

Investment Piece, fashion, blogger, Sunday Chronicles, Love of Your Life, Vaelntine's Day, Ca, TX

It’s Ex-Files, where I share horror stories from the front lines of dating! This series has been part of my way of coping with dates and relationships that were less than ideal, because if we can’t laugh at ridiculous men, what are we doing here? Some of my favorite stories that I’ve shared with you are Tinder on an Airplane, The One Who Asked for his Money Back, and Ghosting. I had a great story this month, about a guy who took me to dinner to let me know non-stop how much he hated his mother. But then. This week happened.

I know many of us have been triggered by the events and testimony this week. No matter what your policital views, as a woman (or a man), there’s no way that your life hasn’t been touched by sexual assault, even if it’s not openly talked about. Like many of you I’m tired. I’m angry. I’m hurt. And the last thing I wanted to do was dive into a story about dating, even if it was for humor purposes.

There’s something to be said after a week like this one, much like after a bad break up, that a little self care is needed. Not the romanticized and cliche self care, but the real, you may be hurting and need some time to heal self care. Which leaves us with the question, what does self care look like on a week like this?

I vary from needing to be with people to needing to be alone, from needing activity to needing rest, and I think any combination of these types of self care are valid. Actually, any kind of self care you need (as long as it’s not self harm) is valid. Below is a small list of things I like to do for myself in the name of self care:
Take the afternoon off and see a matinee
Stay in with a book
Dinner/drinks with a friend
Spending the day in bed reading trashy magazines
Cleaning out my closet
Shopping or planning outfits
A spa day either at home or at an actual spa
Planning and cooking a great meal
Ordering in
A hard workout
A long walk
Spending time with family
Spending time alone
A bubble bath with wine
Therapy
A massage
Working hard on forgiving others, myself, and walking with kindness and compassion.

I don’t think there’s a way to do self care wrong. It comes down to what we need, and how we can give it to ourselves. I hope that this week, as long and as hard as it was had moments of laughter and care. I hope you know you’re loved and supported.

If you need it, the Sexual Abuse Hotline is 1-800-656-4673. Also, if you need it, you can register to vote here.

I’d love to know what your favorite form of self care is. If you need a listening ear, this community is here for you. I’d love for us all to remember we’re in this together.

Wishing us a week of light and amazing shoes! Xo RA

Rent The Runway

The Ex Files: Ghosting

Investment Piece: Ex Files

It’s here! The time of the month where I live out my Carrie Bradshaw fantasies and write about love disasters. A nice balance to fashion? I like to think so.

Some of my “fave” (if that can be a thing) ex files: Tinder on an Airplane, The One Who Asked for his Money Back, and The One Who Got Married, and all of the other dating horror stories that can be found by searching “Ex Files”over on the search bar.

This month? Let’s chat Ghosting.

It sucks. And we’ve all done it. (If you’re reading this and you don’t know what ghosting is, bless you. It’s when someone stops responding or just disappears) Ghosting can also be a bit of a grey area. Is it ghosting if things just sizzle and you stop talking? Does it make it ok to ghost if you’ve already said no, repeatedly, and the other person just won’t take the no? I’m sure that there are great answers, even experts have opinions on ghosting. But going through it? It can still be awful. So I present, two tales of ghosting. And yes, one time there’s a chance that I’m the bad guy. He has the right to tell that story.

The Ghoster
There was once a nice guy that I met. We went to coffee a couple of times. Let’s call him Bob. Bob was sweet. And kind. And caring. A littler nervous, but that wasn’t a deal breaker. Bob was great. Bob was not for me. Even when he told me stories that should have been fascinating, I just wasn’t interested. And because Bob was lovely and kind, I let him know that I didn’t think we were a match for me. Bob said ok. Bob proceeded to text me two days later to ask me out. I said no. Then Bob went on vacation. I got texts every other day, and he asked me out twice. I said no, and restated that I didn’t think we should date. Bob got back from vacation. He asked me out again, I still haven’t responded to the text. I’m a Ghoster.

The Ghostee
For a few weeks, I was dating this great guy named Lee. Funny, charming, we got along like gang busters. We had fun at the movies, at dinner, just hanging out together. He would text me the funniest things, we seemed to really click; he would even send me pictures of what he was doing when we weren’t together. Then one day we were texting about our weeks. He asked me if I would love to get together and I said yes, even mentioned a movie I’d like to see. I never heard from him again. I was ghosted, and while it’s never good to be ghosted, this time I was disappointed as I thought that this guy might be fun.

It could be worse. I know gals who have been ghosted after years. And a guy who’s date ghosted during dinner (well, she left, is that the same thing??). What is our deal with ghosting? Can we really no longer have that conversation?

I’d love to know: what are your ghosting stories? Have you ever been the Ghoster?

Wishing us all a ghost free week and amazing shoes! XO RA

Ex Files: The Eavesdropping

Loves! It’s time for our monthly dose of dating horror stories: The Ex-Files! In my ultimate attempt to become Carrie Bradshaw, and satisfy my friends’ need to hear my awful dating stories (and sadly, there are a lot), we give you: Ex Files, dating horror stories. Yes, these stories really happened, yes, names/dates/places have been changed to protect those involved, and yes, if you wanted to be remembered well, behave better. Missed last month’s gem? You can get your fix on here
Happy Reading!! XO RA

The Eavesdropping

If you follow my acting twitter account (@adeliciamorris, sorry for the political/football rants now), you may have read this riveting, real time date that I overheard recently: (Read up)
Investment Piece: The Ex Files
Investment Piece: The Ex Files
Investment Piece: The Ex Files
Investment Piece: Ex Files

The story is as simple as I tweeted it. I sat next to (basically on top of) a couple on a horrible date at a cafe in LA. She was a cute, 20 something, who clearly wanted out. He was a bum, who had excuses for everything, might not believe in capitalism, and wasn’t kind to her. While I had to leave before them, as the cafe needed my table; I (and those following on twitter) couldn’t help but wonder if he left her with the bill. My guess is that he did. My hope is that she never finds herself in this situation again.

What stood out to me about this story, besides the obvious horror, was that it was a date that I had been on; not recently, and maybe not to this extreme, but I dated this guy in my 20s. I remember dates that were just so off, with men who couldn’t see (or care) my discomfort, and times when I thought that being a nun might be a viable option. LA is home to many of these “manchilds”, the guys who think it’s great to not take or have responsibilities, who use women, who think nothing of stiffing a girl on a date. The sad truth? My guess is this happens more than we think, to varying degrees, in cities around the world.

So, my question becomes: women, why are we allowing this? I’m not anti giving people a chance, and have some childish habits myself (I clap like a kid on Christmas when I get new shoes). However, there has to be a line and I think it’s time we drew it. Out on a date and it’s going horrible? Leave. Uncomfortable? Leave. Can tell that this guy doesn’t respect you? Leave. Like you, I was raised to always be polite and make people fell at ease; however, that shouldn’t come at a personal price. My new challenge to others, and myself, is that the next time I’m in a situation like that is that I will get myself out of it. I will make an excuse, tell the truth, ditch, whatever needs to be done so that I leave.

Here’s hoping that girl got out!

XO RA

Ex Files: Tinder on an Airplane

It’s one of my favorite times of the month: Ex-files. Where I share horror stories from the dating world. Because if I (and others) have to live through it, we might as well laugh at it. Right?

The good news? This month’s dating horror story didn’t “happen” to me. But I was there (and got free drinks because of it). It involves Tinder (judge all we like, people meet there) and an airplane (because what makes a bad date worse? Not being able to leave). Without further ado, I give you: Tinder on an Airplane.

*Note names and some details have been changed/omitted to protect people. However, people own what you did to them. You want them to write warmly about you? Behave better.

Investment Piece: Ex Files: Tinder on an Airplane

A few months ago, I was taking a girl’s trip with a friend. We were flying out on a Friday night and were looking forward to a row to ourselves (she’s a window lady, I prefer the aisle) and in-flight drinks. The dating horror gods, as luck would have it, had other plans. As the plan boarded, the announcement was made that the flight was full, and that people should take any avaible seat. You know, what no one wants to hear on an airplane when they’re in a row with an empty middle seat. My girlfriend caught the eye of a woman and her adorable puppy and motioned for her to sit with us. And our adventure began.

The woman’s name was Jane and she introduced her dog, Oliver, letting us know that while he’s cute, he can be an asshole. I replied by saying, “Aren’t all men?”

Don’t at me. See here, here, here, and here. More under the search “Ex Files” in the menu.

Someone who did want to debate that thought? The guy sitting in front of us. He turned around claiming “Not all guys”, and proceeded to promise to buy all of us a round during drink service. We laughed it off, but he was a man of his word. He got us all a drink, and that’s when things get really good.

We all exchanged names and basic details. His name was Ben, and he’s a scientist. Our friend Jane made sure that scientist meant that Ben worked with science, which was just a tell of things to come. As we were all chatting all of a sudden, Jane asked Ben if he had a dog named Benji. Ben did. Ben also rode bikes and had a house in a certain part of town.

It turns out that Ben and Jane had matched on Tinder, chatted, she gave him her number and he never called.

And now, we were all trapped on a plane together, drinking.

My girlfriend and I were amused. It soon became apparent that Ben and Jane were not a match.
She wanted to do shots and asked the flight attendants repeatedly why we couldn’t do whiskey shots.
Ben drank wine–and paid for drinks.
Jane didn’t seem to understand science or basic math (she couldn’t add 1+0), while Ben tried to explain a theory based in physics to us.
Ben was super friendly and kept buying drinks, Jane got jealous and increasingly upset that he never called her.
Jane thought that when she looked out the window and could no longer see the lights, that’s where the land ended.

There was no drama, no overt act of confrontation. Though Jane brought up the non-call more than once. Ben was a trooper, bought more than one round for everyone, including one after the flight at the bar in the airport. Somehow, even though she complained more than once about the lack of whiskey shots, Jane didn’t get cut off in the air. But it might have been one of the best flights I’ve been on, and the best Tinder date I’ve witnessed.

As we were all saying goodbye, Jane gave Ben her number again and asked my friend and I if we thought he would call this time. I hate to say it, but I somehow doubt he did.

Wishing us all a week of free drinks and amazing shoes! And great Tinder dates! Xo RA

Ex Files: The One who was VERY IMPORTANT

Investment Piece: The Ex-files

In my attempt to not only be Carrie Bradshaw, but entertain us all with the horror stories that can make up single life it’s Ex Files! Every month you get a look at some (real) bad dates that I have endured, and lived to tell the tale. Names and some facts have been changed to protect people, but I own the stories!

Need more horror in your life? Check out: The One Who Wanted His Money Back, The One Who Got Married, The One Who Wouldn’t Take No, The One Who Commented on my Weight. And if you aren’t scared stiff, the search tab has even more stories for your dating horror pleasure.

But this month I give you: The One who was VERY IMPORTANT

Some dates end up being horror stories because of the behavior after the date. Some dates are horror stories because of the behavior on the date. This story that combines both types of horrors. And while I maybe should have seen it coming, I was fooled into thinking it could be a great date. The issue? The way to my heart is my shoes. That can’t be a surprise. So when I met George at the supermarket and he complimented my shoes, I couldn’t see anything else. (And they were amazing shoes.)

After flirting and waiting for our juices together in line, I had learned that George was a doctor and a lover of the outdoors. We made plans to get brunch and go paddle boarding on Saturday. I was excited, I was slightly new to town, a fan of paddle boarding, and a man who sees my shoes always seems like a great idea.

Maybe I should wait to see if men can see more than my shoes?

The Saturday George and I were set to meet I prepared-my hair was cute, I was excited. He was over an hour late.
Mind you, he did call and let me know he was having car problems. At first, he thought he would only be 10 mins late. Then it was 30. Then he let me know that I should go ahead and eat without him, that we would meet up for paddle boarding. So I did.
George finally arrived, not prepared, and nonplussed that he was so very late. We headed over to his apartment (across the street) so he could change into his board shorts and we could get to the water.
While I understand car issues, and everyone is late now again, my biggest disappointment was that the charming man I’d met at the grocery store didn’t show up. This George was annoyed at every little thing, from my hair to the traffic, but as we chatted about the plan for the afternoon I discovered that George was most annoyed with my not making him the sole focus of my day.

When I had made plans with George, I thought I was clear that I was free all Saturday till about 3:30 or 4, as I was having dinner with my Grandma. George has orginally thought that was sweet. However, after being so late, George no longer thought the fact that I couldn’t devote my entire day to him was sweet. He was upset that he “wouldn’t have as much time on the water as he wanted”. And he was most upset as “he had a friend going out on a boat, there were going to be hot girls there, and he wanted us to join, but we wouldn’t be done in time”.

Yes, he legit complained that he was going to miss out on hot girls on a boat. And I let George know that if he really wanted to go on the boat that he should, there would be no hard feelings from me. He didn’t leave, but was very upset that he was missing out. I should have left then, but I didn’t.

We went paddle boarding and it wasn’t bad. I did get yelled at for not “being as good” as George was. And George did let me know more than once that he was upset that my bikini wasn’t skimpy, and that I had a time limit. But the date wasn’t the worst ever. I had no intention of a second date, but still.

George and I finished paddle boarding and I made it to dinner with Grandma on time. A few days after, I received a text from George inquiring about a second date. But, he had a caveat.

As it turns out, George let me know that he is VERY IMPORTANT and when he makes plans with someone, he expects them to respect his time and be free for the whole day. He let me know that if I couldn’t commit to that, we shouldn’t go out again.

We didn’t go out again.

Also, if you’re so important that you need people to clear their schedules for you, maybe that’s something you should pay for?

Wishing us all a week of being important and amazing shoes! And great dates!
XO RA

Ex Files: Valentine’s Day

Investment Piece: Ex Files: Valentine's

Loves, I hope that you get as much joy out of reading these dating horror stories as I do sharing them. Need more ex files and dating horror stories in your life? Check out here, here, and here. You can also search “ex files” on the left (or on top). Grab your snack of choice and settle in, these dating horror stories are something.

This month? I have some opinions on Valentine’s Day, you’ve heard them all month. (You can also check this out. Is it weird if I mention that it’s never too late to give someone a gift?). I shouldn’t have been surprised when I got comments and emails asking me if my feelings on Valentine’s Day had anything to do with a bad date.

And that would make sense. After all, I’m the queen of bad dates. (See above). So did I ever have a horrible Valentine’s Day date that soured my view on the holiday? Honestly, no. I have nothing against love or dates, and there’s not been a huge episode that made me: “Hate the Day”. Getting asked so often, I sat down and thought about it. This is my one Valentine’s Day dating horror story:

I was in 8th grade. So was he. For the life of me, I can’t remember his name. He was awkward and so was I -in that about to bud, middle school way. We were in many classes together, and neither of us were popular, but neither of us were on the bottom of the social ladder. There’s a chance he liked me, I was not at place of self awareness that I even considered that. And it was Valentine’s Day. We were too old for the “class party”, but many people gave out little Valentine’s, and of course the few “cool” kids who were “dating” gave each other presents. Me? I don’t think I thought about Valentine’s at all. This guy, we can call him Bob, and I had our last period of the day together (I think? I know it was art). Did I mention he was awkward? (And so was I). He spent the class alternating between staring at me and avoiding me. Then at the end of class shoved a very fancy chocolate box at me. It clearly meant something. I opened it and over half the chocolates were already eaten.

That’s it. That’s my big, bad “Bad Valentine’s Day” dating horror story. Loves, it’s so tame. But, it does make me laugh. And let’s be really impressed I remember it. (And let’s be more honest, isn’t it a nice repreieve from some of the horror stories you’ve heard?)

Need more horror? Try these Valentine’s Day stories from The NY Times, Cosmopolitan, and Seventeen.

Hope that you week is horror free and full of shoe love!
XO RA

Ex Files: Sharing in Misery

Investment Piece: The Ex-files

It’s no secret that I’m no stranger to bad dates. See here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. This month? I have no personal dating horror stories to share (but, no fear, I still have plenty).

What I’ve been doing lately? Indulging in other people’s bad date stories! It makes me feel less alone (maybe it’s not us, maybe it’s dating!). And they make me laugh. From the ones that pop up on Facebook to my new favorite site, The Tinder Chronicles, I’ve become a voyeur in other people’s bad dates. (Though to be fair, I hope you are when it comes to mine!). Below I’m sharing some of my favorites and would love to know: what is your worst best bad date story?

Cosmo Twitter
A bad date in a few characters? I’m in!

1. “We were on the train heading back to my place, and he said he had to pee. There weren’t any bathrooms, so he literally just peed in the corner of the train car. I died of embarrassment.” —Fatouma K., 22

2. “We made a plan to go fishing, but when I arrived to pick him up, all he’d decided to bring with him was two fishing poles — no bait! I ended up having to sit and watch him dig up worms.” —Charity K., 30

3. “He told me he was going to take me to a romantic dinner but got totally wasted beforehand. Before we even stepped foot in the restaurant, he demanded I drive him back to my place. I wound up all dressed up, sitting on my couch, eating cereal while my date snoozed away in my bed. Hot.” —Kimberly C., 30

4. “While we were hooking up in his car, he got a phone call from his mom. He picked it up while I was on top of him!” —Lani F., 20

5. “On a date, he told me that he wanted to get me pregnant to trap me. I think it was his way of saying I’m a catch? Obviously, we were done.” —Nicole G., 27

6. “I got up to use the restroom after finishing only about a quarter of my drink. When I got back, he’d finished the whole thing without asking. Rude!” —Laura M., 24

7. “He brought his dad along on our date so his dad could ‘check me out.’ I never spoke to him again.” —Amanda W., 25

8. “After I brought him back to my apartment, he goes, ‘I want a place like this, one that looks shitty on the outside but nice on the inside, so no one will want to break in.’ Um, thanks?” —Jessica L., 20

Buzz Feed and Reddit
The Internet can let you down in so many ways. Bad Date Stories is not one of them.
My favorites from :
BuzzFeed
Reddit
StyleCaster
And
Insider

The Woman Who Disappeared
While maybe not a bad ex story (maybe he got his?), I can’t stop thinking about this story:
I came over to his house one morning to surprise him with breakfast and a video game he wanted, only to find him naked, asleep, and with his ex curled up in his arms.

He didn’t hear me come in, so I closed his bedroom door, and left his breakfast and game on the kitchen counter along with my key to his house.

I went to my car, deactivated my Facebook, and blocked him on all other forms of social media. I then called my phone provider to change my number before driving off.

I texted family members and close friends that we were no longer together and to block him on social media, as well. I didn’t tell them why.

I was in a position to end the lease at my apartment early, and I started a new job in a different city later that week.

I completely removed myself from him and didn’t offer a shred of explanation or opportunity for dialogue. I disappeared from his life after his betrayal and I think it’ll not only help me to focus on myself without his presence, but I think completely shutting myself off from him will hurt worse than anything when he thinks on how good he had it with me these last 5 years.

What do you think?

Wishing us all a week of not horrible dates and amazing shoes!
XO RA

Ex-Files: The One Who Wouldn’t Take No

Investment Piece: Ex Files

Loves! It’s here! In my ultimate attempt to become Carrie Bradshaw, and satisfy my friends’ need to hear my awful dating stories (and sadly, there are a lot), we give you: Ex Files, dating horror stories. Yes, these stories really happened, yes, names/dates/places have been changed to protect those involved, and yes, if you wanted to be remembered well, behave better.

This post is not only time sensitive (#metoo), it is a little hard to read, think about, or discuss. I’m not an expert, nor do I pretend to be. Should we have a conversation about toxic behavior? Yes. Are “nice guys” bad? Not necessarily, but loves, if you’re a nice guy who thinks that being nice entitles you to certain behavior from women: you’re not a nice guy. If you have been assaulted, please speak up, seek help if you need it, and do what you need to do to take care of you. And with all of these warnings, I give you:

The One Who Wouldn’t Take No

There was a man, let’s call him Bob, who was interested in me. Now, for part of our friendship I had no clue that he was interested, as we were just friends. And not close friends, but say hi to friends. Bob and I went to college together, and while we knew each other there, we were never close. As with most friendships that are casual and fleeting, the only contact we had for years was Facebook. And even that was casual. Bob was a nice, kind guy, but not for me. Beyond that, I never thought about him that way as we never went much further than pleasantries.

About a year ago, Bob and I ran into each other at some alumni events, grabbed a coffee, grabbed a drink. But again, I thought nothing of it and wasn’t interested in anything more. Bob asked me to dinner one time, supposedly to chat about work; but at the table Bob’s interest in me as something more than a friend came up. I politely let him know that I was seeing someone, and wasn’t interested in him. I thought that the matter was handled.

It wasn’t.

Over the next few months, Bob would reach out constantly via text and email. Just to chat. To try to make plans. To let me know that he was thinking about me. I was polite, engaged when necessary, but let him know repeatedly that my feelings had not changed. I truly though that Bob was harmless: he was nice, he prided himself on nice, I just thought that he was a bit awkward at dating. However, at some point Bob’s behavior began to go from “nice” to “not nice”. Bob told me repeatedly he was nice, and he was. However, Bob was under the impression that I owed him something for his niceness; that every compliment or gesture entitled Bob to something. Not only is that off putting and untrue, it made me avoid Bob.

Things came to a head when Bob asked me out, and I said no, as I already had plans. While this would have been the end of it in most circumstances, it wasn’t the end of it for Bob. As Bob felt he was owed something, he wanted to know why I told him no. Bob didn’t call or text to find out my reasoning. Bob showed up at my house, came in, and wanted me to explain to him why I couldn’t go out with him. Now, maybe you’re thinking that every one wants closure or deserves to know the truth; I have never had anyone else show up at my house after texting me to go somewhere to find out why I told them no. Yes, Bob was bigger than me. Yes, Bob brought up how he was a trained black belt. Yes, Bob showed up at my house to challenge a no he received. It was scary, and inappropriate, and he didn’t see that.

As many women do when faced with a situation that makes us uncomfortable, I tried to diffuse it. I explained that I had other plans, I placated him, I got him out of there. The worst thing that happened to me is that Bob tried to kiss me, it didn’t work. And while I had reinterated that I was not interested in a romantic relationship with Bob, he continued to ask me out for months, till he became too mad that I constantly said no.

I’m not sure that Bob gets it to this day.

Is this part of a larger convo? Sure. Do I know how to solve this problem? No.

Wishing us all a week of people who can take a no and amazing shoes!
XO RA

Ex Files: The One Who Asked for his Money Back

Investment Piece: Ex Files

Loves! It’s here! In my ultimate attempt to become Carrie Bradshaw, and satisfy my friends’ need to hear my awful dating stories (and sadly, there are a lot), we give you: Ex Files, dating horror stories. Yes, these stories really happened, yes, names/dates/places have been changed to protect those involved, and yes, if you wanted to be remembered well, behave better.

Enjoy! XO RA

The One Who Asked For His Money Back
I met Rick through friends, which is allegedly the best way to met people. On paper it made sense: I like sports, he was a sports writer, his bff was dating my bff; and if we could all just fall in love and live side by side, it would be the stuff that sitcoms dream of, in a word, perfect. Also, he was great with a witty text. (Side note: I may put too much stock in a witty text.) Nevertheless, when Rick asked me to dinner I said yes. I was even reasonably excited about the date, in the way that sarcastic women who secretly believe in fairy tales can be. A proper gentleman, Rick had called days before and we had made a plan: dinner and drinks on Thursday at 7, he was going to pick me up.

Thursday came. I was ready, early, just like my Mimi taught me. 7 came. 7:15 came. I got a text from Rick letting me know that he would be late–and I mean, we all know traffic is crazy, right? 7:30 came. As did 7:45 and another text-I should go ahead and eat, because Rick was super late. So me in my super amazing dress, and stunning shoes (like I have another kind) heated up a Trader Joes meal. Great date so far. 8. 8:30. Finally, 9 and Rick was waiting for me outside, and while the sarcastic gal in me wanted to rip into Rick (look, that kind of late is rude, period), I didn’t –I was betting on great drinks. And the drinks were great, we went to a martini bar, Rick apologized profusely, and I sat with my drink and prepared to learn more about this guy. Things, sadly, went downhill from there.

As it turns out, Rick had always wanted to play baseball as a kid. A normal goal, and maybe one that would have been in reach-you know, if he ever played. Yes, that’s right, Rick never played baseball. Not little league, not middle school, not high school, other than playing catch with his dad and friends, Rick had never picked up a bat. However, this didn’t stop him from trying out for his college team. (Takes guts, which I do applaud) To no one’s surprise, after years of not playing baseball, when Rick tried out for his college baseball team, he didn’t make it. Did that push him to train, try hard, and try again? Nope. Rick took it as a sign that his college coach was not a good coach, spent 4 years thinking about baseball, not playing, but decided to try out for the Minor Leagues. Spoiler alert: that didn’t end well either. I got to hear about this for hours, all while my acting skills were on full display, as I tried to pretend that this was normal date conversation. But don’t worry! Rick also insulted my sports teams, demanded to know if I thought he would be good at baseball, and let me know how trivial he thought my career was. The martinis were good, and I earned those suckers.

Thankfully, even the worse night comes to a close, and after what only felt like an eternity (but was closer to 2 hours), Rick took me home. Freedom was so close I could taste it. We turned on my street, Rick asked where he should park (you know, so he could come up). The fact that I didn’t sputter or have a heart attack is a testament to my ability to stay cool in a crisis. But to think–Rick thought the night went well, so well, Rick thought he would be invited up. I came up with some excuse about an early morning, gave an awkward hug, a punch on the arm (to really send home the message) and sprinted out of the car. (Maybe there’s a track team I can try out for?)

I thought I was safe. A week went by and Rick was silent. And if this story ended here, this would simply be another bad date, not that memorable. Loves, it went downhill. (Maybe there’s a making it worse team Rick could try out for?) Just when I thought Rick would be someone I could run into and be ok with, he sent me an email asking me out, and letting me know how much he was into me. I could ignore it. I could suffer through his adult disappointments. But I’m an adult, and while it’s not always comfortable, I believe in being adult with people. I let Rick know that I wasn’t available for the night in question, and while I enjoyed his company (Acting classes do pay for themselves, dad!) that I thought we would be better friends. Again, days of silence. I thought that was it. Until, the next week. Rick emailed me to let me know that “when makes an investment, he expects a return. He made an investment in my drinks, got nothing out of it, and would like to be repaid for the drinks I had”.

First–so many issues with that. Second, let’s be clear, I was out of Rick’s league and if I charged for my time by the hour the martinis could have cost $100 each, and he would still owe me money. Mind you, this was a good 10 years ago, and while it horrifies me that more stories are coming out like this (people, be better), and while I was sassy and confident then, I had no idea of how to respond to this request. WTF is wrong with you didn’t seem like the best option to someone I would most likely have to see again. So, I waited a few days, and then sent an email (crafted meticously with more than one friend) letting Rick know that I was sorry he was so disappointed, that I too was disappointed we didn’t hit it off (loves, I deserve mad points for not letting him know that his baseball story was crazy), and offering to buy rounds when our friend group went out again. I never heard from Rick again.

I dodged a bullet, but now again I wonder about Rick (turns out he found a woman who loved his stories and they have 3 girls–karma is really the best payback) and how many women he tortured.