“I love you!”
My heart skipped a beat. It was another perfect, sunny summer day in Bend, Oregon. Around every corner of my new Pacific Northwest home, I seemed to find magic.
Instant friendships…
…Google Pixel 3 camera porn…
And now this? The L bomb? The only thing missing in my life?
When I arrived in Oregon four weeks ago, I was still on the fence about dating. And not just because I publicly denounced it earlier this year.
More because of this memory. And this one. And this one. And this one. And this one…okay I’ll stop now.
Nevertheless, after 2+ years on the No Dating bandwagon, the temptation to peek at what was out there, 3,000 miles from the men with whom I’d repeatedly failed (please refer to links 1 to 1,373 listed above), proved too much to resist.
“All riiiiiight,” I groaned on the phone to my friend, Shawna. “I’ll try Bumble. AGAIN.”
And thus, with a trembling index finger, I downloaded a dreaded dating app on my hitherto untainted phone.
This time, though, I decided I’d cut right to the chase. “If you want to meet for coffee or beer sometime, let me know!” my initial messages read. (In the Bumble world, the women always make the first move.)
If the Bend, Oregon Bumble selection were an ocean filled with fish… No. I can’t even finish that metaphor. Because we are not talking “ocean.” We are talking lake. No. Still not right. Pond. Teeny, tiny pond.
I didn’t have a lot of time to dive in because almost as soon as I got to Oregon, I was off to Boot Camp. I returned to a message from “Dave” that made me laugh. (And if there’s one thing I promised myself, were I to ever dip a toe in the treacherous dating waters again, it was: He gots to bring it with the ha-ha’s.)
I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I scrolled through his photos again. F my life. I read his message again. I laughed again. OKAY FINE.
Two days later, I pulled into a brewery parking lot right on time and saw a guy leaning on the fence. That might be him…
I sent a text, “Just got here!”
The guy in question looked down at his phone, so I hopped out of my car and walked over with a wide smile and outstretched hand. Something immediately felt off, but I followed him inside.
“I’m excited to try this place!” I offered.
“Yeah yeah yeah, they have some good stuff! I always get the Sweet Ass.”
I snorted, spotting a sign that read, “Sweet As! Pacific Ale.”
He talked quickly and didn’t make eye contact, but offered to buy my beer. We were well within the happy hour timeframe, so I thanked him and we took our selections outside, where there was an impressively grassy outdoor area and live music revving up.
“Yeah so you just moved here, huh? Yeah?” he said as we sat down.
I eyed him closely. Coke. It’s gotta be coke. Or is he just that nervous?! The next two hours were filled with frenetic conversation, me asking question after question. He talked about his Aunt. A lot. And a former tenant of his garage apartment.
“Wow, so the guy just left after that?!” I asked.
“Let me finish the story!” he said in a tone so scathing I put a hand to my heart.
“I’m so sorry!” I gasped, completely thrown.
“No worries,” he gulped his beer and carried on.
When the two hour Suffer Fest was over, I pulled into my driveway, debating whether or not I should try to still salvage the night. Just then, someone came running up from the house next door, bouncing around the side of my car until she could give me a hug.
I decided to stay right where I was.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Any advice, or can I finally marry my dog?
~*~*~*~*~*~
Go Jules Go 
I believe it’s perfectly legal to marry your dog in Oregon, because.. ya know, Pacific Northwest. But don’t give up quite yet. Or maybe, yes. Give up. That’s usually when all the good things happen.
In other aspects, you are living the dream. New life, new friends in a totally breathtakingly gorgeous new place!! And I am totally green with envy over that spectacular phone camera, so that should make you feel good as well. Who needs dating?
😊
I’m 99.9% sure my dream vegan caterer is willing to do an interspecies marriage.
sounds like you are on a positive track
I may have another date on Tuesday, just in time for my next weekly blog update. “Positive track” is not the phrase that springs to mind, but I like your optimism. 😉
Good luck, and I have a first date tomorrow. If it’s worth posting I will, if not I’ll move ahead
I’m thinking you are most definitely in the right place now. Like Rivergirl said above, you are living the dream, baby! And once you get settled, centered etc…love will find you when you least expect it.
I think you should move to Oregon and live with Uncle Jesse and me and we’ll just make cardboard cut-outs of our dream men and perch them in the window. Hmm. Just remembered you’re married. Sigh.
Call me old fashioned, but I’m a fan of meeting people through friends who know me or meeting them through an activity or group or something we have in common. Somewhere I can get a sense of them before going out on a date. Best of luck.
That was GOING to be my strategy, until every one of those people appeared to have a wedding ring…
Oh no! That sucks. I guess I’m showing my age.
You should have seen how much booze he would pay for. A recent date offered to pay and ended up with an $88 bill. I felt guilty after the hangover wore off.
NICELY DONE! Needing to be 88-dollar-drunk for these experiences sounds about right. Conservative estimate, really. Cheers!
Great post 🙂
Thank you! 🙂
You didn’t let him finish! He was just going to tell you that his garage apartment is now for rent, and seeing how you just moved here from Jersey, he’d rent it to you for just $2,200. It has free tires you dog can sleep in!
There was definitely a tiiiiny part of my brain that said, “Make this work. You might need that apartment.”
I don’t see how he could be so mean to you. After all, I almost stopped breathing when I saw that kitchen pic of you – just breath-taking! Sorry, I may be old, but I am not blind.
Scott
Thank you, Scott!
Very welcome. Truth is very easy to speak.
https://kia723.wordpress.com/2019/09/26/how-far-is-enough-to-be-scammed-or-come-across-fraud-accounts-on-social-media/