Such a Lovely Sentiment

Heart colored pencils

“So I got edges that scratch
And sometimes I don’t got a filter
But I’m so tired of eatin’
All of my misspoken words
I know my disposition gets confusing
My disproportionate reactions fuse with my eager state
That’s why you wanna come out and play with me, yeah” “Beggin’ for Thread” BANKS

How many of my stories this year have started with, “Back in June…” ? Well, Back in June, I guess I posted an ad on a pen pal site. No, not a “horny women want to write you letters” pen pal site. I can’t remember what is is called or how I found it. I only remember it had no images. It was text-boxes only. Bare bones HTML forms. I barely remember what I wrote. Something like, “I want to go back to the days before the internet was the internet.” Maybe more. But I meant it. I didn’t want an electronic connection. I used a fake name, my real age, and my real snail mail address. I forgot about it until August, (I think) when I received a three page letter written in perfect cursive script yellow, lined legal paper, from someone claiming to be a 21 year old gay man. “He” wasn’t talking about sex but kept mentioning “he” wanted to share his secrets and if I wanted I could share my secrets. I had no idea who wanted to hear my “secrets” but I wasn’t biting.

Last month I got the obligatory letter from a lonely woman in Russia. I’m not really sure because it was very convincing but I threw it in the trash. If it didn’t come from Russia I may have saved it.

Wednesday night my mom was asking if I had any newspapers to catch the potato and carrot peels. Here I am, 52 and I’m the kid again, it’s my job to the peel the fucking vegetables. “Newspapers? What are those?” I thought I haven’t checked my mail in a week, I bet my box is stuffed with grocery store flyers. Those are newspapers, right? I got down there and I was right but sitting in front was an unusual envelope. I read it and thought, figures, I got someone else’s mail again. Wait a minute! That’s my pseudonym!

I got back upstairs and my mom went out to smoke so I opened the envelope. It was odd sized, inside was small paper with a pattern printed border with hand writing. I’m not going to share the details because it is more real than something I would find on the internet. There was nothing personal, there was no tease. It was from a woman, it said, Hi, my name is (…), my friends call me (…) I found you on some penpal site and I like writing letters. This is my first letter to you. Inside the envelope there were more pieces of paper, I imagine were from a stationery store but like, where? A one and a half by four inch piece of purple paper with a small watermark? On that she asked a few of my favorite things, food, etc.. but, favorite smell? That was a good one. Another piece I think was part of a note card and had basics about her, three things she likes and three things she doesn’t. Nothing earthshaking. We both like music. Wow.

I put it away until my mom left Sunday and I spread it out on the table. If this person is pulling the long con, they really put too much effort into it. I noticed she switched different colored pens randomly and tiny stickers. Kids stuff but she said she was in her 30’s. I’m weird, I used to do this shit when I was younger.

I thought there is no way I can respond by typing on the computer and printing out an 8 1/2 by 11 and sending it off in a business envelope. But I want to write back. I don’t have any materials. Then I noticed there was another piece of paper with a printed border which was left blank. Okay. I imagine that is for me to write on. I only have a black pen but it’s a start. Where am I supposed to find an envelope for this?

You know me though. I am quite verbose. My favorite smell? You know that is going to be more than a one word answer. That was a good one because I just came up with it a few weeks ago when I was walking down the street.

I remembered I had an old journal with unique pages from years ago. But I can’t fill the whole thing up and mail it. I decided to write my one word (paragraph answers in sections and cut them apart and use the paper she provided for a “thanks for writing” note. That’s pretty good, right? I wanted to put at least a quarter as much effort into it. I don’t know, it was fun. I am under no illusion we are going to fall in love and live happily ever after.

Meanwhile… The same guy who says he wants to get off the internet is back on the internet. Fucking Bumble! I’m not drinking… When do I do this shit? But this was good. Somebody finally got the point of my profile being a big fucking joke! Who was it? Apparently someone who is very well educated. I don’t know… Well… I do know the impression I give by the way I speak. But the funniest phrase (to me) I’ve been using for months is, “I know when to drop the vernacular.” I think it’s funny because I think a lot of people who hear it wouldn’t imagine I know the word, “vernacular.” I love that word. “Colloquialism” used to be one of my favorites but it sounds stilted. It doesn’t “roll off the tongue.”

I lost track of my mind… Oh, right, my point is I don’t use words because I think they sound cool. I choose certain words because they mean exactly what I mean to say.

She made a joke about my elephants hiding in trees joke and didn’t ask me to explain why I was one big joke. I checked out her profile. It made sense now… She said she appreciates people who appreciate the absurdity of life. And, she is ivy league! I am going to like this… I was right. I could relate.

I forget everything. She said she had the good fortune to have a job she enjoyed and I told her I don’t believe in luck. Please go on… Please go on? Don’t do it! What have I been running around yelling about all year? Synchronicity. Okay, I did it.

It was starting to get too serious and I wanted to make myself clear. Because at some point, I added to my profile something about people like me for my honesty and openness and not pretending to be someone I’m not. I picked my spot and interjected, “Either way one of us is trying to get lucky tonight.”

It was an educated guess and worked to move things along. Now I know she likes to be playful but this is my kind of playful. We were talking about something and she used the word “unmoored”. I stopped her and said, I don’t mean to change the subject but I am more interested in the word unmoored. (WordPress doesn’t recognize it as a word. You bastards!) She said, “It’s not a bad place to be.” I’m thinking, How does she know I’m crazy? I added, “If it is even a place…. It doesn’t change from an adjective to a noun until you drop anchor.” Mm… “Why would anyone want to do that?” Okay, now we are getting somewhere.

Then she was struck by me writing about Grace Jones being my love language… Oh shit! That is when I changed my profile! What the fuck going on with Grace Jones? I said, I love her language she speaks in tongues.

She said her words bring her warmth… I told her , her words are bringing me warmth… Then she said it…


I know it’s an expression but I know it means something more than it means to me. I had to look it up and I am so glad I did.

I told her what I found.

Indeed: used to emphasize a statement or response confirming something already suggested.

Indeed: used to introduce a further and stronger or more surprising point.

She said,


She said, “Your username (BoringOldBill) is sunk in the very depths of irony”

There was a lot more but those were the highlights.

Whatever we had fun but I keep doing this to myself. I’m never going to meet her. What am I going to do? Tell her I’m on disability for being unmoored? Am I pretending to be someone I’m not? I have to get offline. I feel like Cyrano in the bushes telling the acceptable guy what to say. I am giving a false impression though. Come take a look at my apartment. I am not “put together.” I always say people come to my place to see me, not my apartment, but…

This is why I’ve been trying to stay offline. I didn’t even know I was back online! I’ve barely touched my phone for a week. then it beeped last night? I

I have to get out of here.

I Don’t Get It?

Heart colored pencils

“Paranoia is in bloom
The PR transmissions will resume
They’ll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down
And hope that we will never see the truth around
(So come on)

Another promise, another scene
Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed
And all the green belts wrapped around our minds
And endless red tape to keep the truth confined
(So come on)”

“Uprising” Muse

It keeps happening! With all the craziness this past week, I was texting Marnie and remembered why I do like talking to her. I let her bullshit slide and she let’s my bullshit slide because we have a lot in common and interesting lives. (This is not the story)

Everything going on, I forgot I had Bumble on my phone until I got a message last night. Like WTF? I don’t remember the last time I opened the app?

The message was, “Why the profile name, “BoringOldBill?” I get that question a lot, half the time they don’t get it and half the time they do, they are trying to get a conversation started. She didn’t get it. I explained, I thought it might give people cause to pause for more than a fraction of a second before they swiped left. Do you think it was a good idea? I didn’t think she was going to answer but I guess she need an hour to think about it. She sent back, “Maybe, it worked, and I guess it is a “bit” funny. It says in your profile you are active, how do you stay active?

Okay, this broad doesn’t get the joke and she obviously doesn’t get the point of Bumble. It’s for women who are tired of get “hey babe, DTF?” messages all the time. That is why the men can’t send the first message, even if you both like each other. She obviously didn’t get the point of my profile. The username is to get you to stop and read my profile if you get the joke and then you see my whole profile is a joke and if you don’t find it funny, don’t send me a message. They even have prompt questions to start conversations, on of my prompts is, “We may get along if you find this funny” and I put a stupid dad joke but it is pretty funny if you have the same sense of humor.

Active? That is one of the checkbox multiple choice questions, “Athletic, Active or Fatass”. She read my profile, saw it was one big joke and she starts off asking a serious question? Active? How do I stay active? Okay, I’ll try one more joke and that will probably be the end of it, “I bicycle in the summer, walk in spring and fall and shiver in the winter.”

She didn’t answer for a bit but I thought WTF? Why am I always on the defensive? Explaining myself? She didn’t get the joke, why did she answer me? I wrote back, I see on your profile it says you are a social drinker, in my experience that means different things to different people, what does it mean to you?

Now she is explaining herself. Okay, she’s not a heavy drinker, but she’s not a social drinker by definition. A “social drinker” is no more than 2 drinks in one session. A “binge drinker is 4 or more for women and 5 or more for men.” Not a sure thing but one of the “red flags” for addiction. I’m not making this up.

I forget exactly she said like, I see you said sober, where are you in your recovery? Well, that’s a huge assumption… She’s correct but… Alcohol is the only drug people wonder why you don’t drink and assume you have a problem if you don’t drink. Nobody ever asks me why I don’t do heroin. I know plenty of people who don’t drink. My last “serious” relationship was with someone who didn’t drink at all. She didn’t like it. I didn’t ask her to explain herself. But apparently that wasn’t a “serious” relationship by a lot of people’s definitions. (I don’t want to get sidetracked)

I was going to leave leave it, we’re obviously not going to meet but I’m questioning why I’m always the one to prove myself worthy? I swiped on her because I read her profile she mentioned a couple things she liked and said, “let’s meet and see what happens” It doesn’t mean she wants to hook up but I that’s what I do, meet and see if you get along. If not, no problem. But why did she answer me? I had no intention of following through but I was being an asshole.

“Recovery?” She answered, I forget the wording but wondering why I don’t drink. I said, “I just don’t like to drink.”, She said, “How do you feel about people who like to drink socially?”, I said, “I feel great about it! It’s not like I’m a Mormon.”…. Her, “Lol, do you like coffee?”, Me, “Hell Yes!” She asked, “Do you make it yourself at home?” I had to think for a moment, “Are you asking if I like to grind?” (suggestive) “I wouldn’t expect someone to got that far, but that would be pretty impressive!” I said, “Some women like it”… She didn’t hesitate, “I’m beginning to think Boring old Bill isn’t so boring.” If I was a scumbag the way people assume because I like to “hookup” or “FWB”, I could have kept lying and might be telling a different story now. I “unmatched” and went to bed.

I don’t know what people assume about me or with whom I have “not serious” relationships. My last “girlfriend” I was highly qualified in a 20 year career in high technology area. She was a freakin’ genius. The company she worked for was a little concerned one time because some idiot crashed the system by not only accidentally deleting the password, but blocking access to the password and they thought she hacked into it, “a little too quickly”. Companies lost millions of dollars every minute the systems were down. (side tracked) She was making over a hundred grand and was considering switching companies to make more. She rented a house, car, beautiful, sexy, kind, what is she doing with scumbag me who is on disability for a mental illness?

We talked all the time, we knew everything about each other, but we weren’t looking for the same thing. She was still dating and hoping to get married some day and I was still hooking up once in while. We joked about the people we met. I’ll tell you the best one. She met a guy who was looking for a “serious relationship.” Good career, owned a house, two kids, divorced. He took her out on a first date, left the restaurant, said he couldn’t go back to his house because there was a baby sitter, would she like to park out back behind the dumpster and have sex in his car? She said, “See ya” and he called the next day and asked her if she would like to go on another date and meet his kids.

I’m the scumbag? I met her for breakfast, acted like a decent human, she took me back to her place, we talked for 12 hours and had sex all night. Then we had a “not serious” relationship for 3 years.

I’m on a rant because I’m sick of having to explain myself. Being on the defensive. I’m not mistreating people, I’m not lying to anyone. Well I lied last night, but I wasn’t trying to meet her. I shouldn’t have done it but I just snapped. I really haven’t been putting serious effort into meeting someone and maybe I do want more but I don’t want to inflict damage on anyone, you know? (I’m sick of explaining myself as I try to explain myself, lol) Last time a woman didn’t like my answers and stopped talking to me, I thought, wait a minute. She on a dating site saying she is “separated”. Separated is not a legal term, it could mean anything. In her case it meant she was still living in the same house and didn’t like her husband but didn’t want to get divorced until she found someone to move in with. There is something morally wrong with me?

Okay, they are looking for a serious relationship. Do they go on one date and it’s serious? Do they date, talk, go out to dinner once a week and have sex for a couple months until the bigger better deal comes along? I don’t know, I’m know plenty of guys who pretended they were looking for a serious relationship so they could get laid.

I was going to write about something else? What was it? Sorry about the rant. Oh yeah. I got up this morning texted my daughter , love you, she loves me… Started getting ramped up before I bought coffee, thought coffee might not be the best idea, bought some anyway. (Reminds me of that redneck comedian, “you might be manic if you have all the symptoms of mania) I texted N===, I started telling her how, that session changed the way I talk to myself and I haven’t been thinking about drinking but she stopped answering after 2 texts. I know I’m not her problem but I wasn’t expecting that. Same with my mom. I didn’t even tell her the odd stuff but she stopped talking to me. I hope she just fell asleep… WTH? She drank until her 50’s and now she is mad at me for drinking.

I could go without drinking while I was doing the smart meetings but sometimes I would do two meetings a day, do all the things they say, plan to stay busy at night etc.. Most of the time I was fine, sometimes I would do all that and at the last minute go buy beer. I don’t know I can’t do the meetings and all you do is talk about using. I was laughing yesterday about someone standing in the doorway smoking and blowing a big cloud and I was like WTF? Then I thought, I used to do that! I quit smoking ten years ago! I almost forgot. I didn’t have an urge to buy a pack of cigarettes.

I don’t get it, no change in lifestyle, yesterday, football all day, getting pissed off at the world, today, ranting, mind racing, recipe for disaster, but nothing.

I was texting M=== earlier, she is the only one glad to hear about it. What is it with me attracting women who don’t drink. My whole life. I’m not complaining but.. Just weird. She was worried about calling about her heat because she wanted to clean her place before anyone came in. I told her about me not wanting to call about my sink. I knew how she was feeling, I asked her if she felt like it was hard to get started. She said she felt overwhelmed. I told her how I started my kitchen by saying I would just do the stove and if I got that done I would be happy and an hour later the dishes, countertop and sink were done.

It’s a nice day. I think I will go for a walk. I can’t believe it’s almost Thanksgiving! Oh yeah, thanks Matt, I just checked my email for the Zoom link from my therapist and saw you there. 🙂 Thanks, I almost did forget!

I think I am trying to write my journal before my day starts. 2pm, it’s going to be dark in 2 hours.

Recollection Collection

“Beautiful girl lovely dress
Fifteen smiles oh yes
Beautiful girl lovely dress
Where she is now I can only guess”

“Gone Daddy Gone” Violent Femmes

I got home from work and half the furniture in our apartment was gone and so was she! I checked the bedroom and the cash was gone! More than two grand!

This was when your phone number was attached to your house; not your person. (Remember that? Every year the phone company would deliver a directory to your front door and you could find anyone’s name and address and phone number?)

I dialed M—-, J’s best friend, my brother’s ex-girlfriend and now, my best friend’s girlfriend. (How the hell did we all meet?) She gave me the 411. A few months earlier, When J— started working, she met someone and that is where she is now. She wouldn’t tell me exactly. I don’t know why, it’s not like I was going to go kick someone’s ass.

I went to bed to make sure I got a good night’s rest… Kidding! I was a fucking mess! I was devastated. It clicked. A few months earlier we were on the couch and she’s crying and I ask her what’s wrong? She doesn’t know… She feels so sad… Why? I don’t know… (I know about depression, I cry and don’t know why… I’m not going to push her) There we were, she’s trying to tell me she cheated on me and I’m sitting there comforting her telling her everything is going to be alright.

I got up early the next day and went to work… Kidding again! I drove to her workplace… I know, I know, Now it is so much easier to get ghosted by cell phone. It happened with two women this summer. I had known them for three years. I sent them a quick text, left a voicemail, didn’t hear back…. But to get ghosted in real life by someone you love and you live together…

We were in the parking lot, I’m crying, she’s crying, what the fuck, this fucking hurts! (You know the bullshit) I still don’t know why…. (Looking back, I know why… Tired of my own special brand of addiction to insanity) But you can’t keep my fucking cash… I”ll split it with you but you know? What the fuck?

I went back to the apartment, grabbed my clothes, guitar and amp, threw them in the car and disappeared. I don’t know why… I had two months rent and a job. It was a pretty nice place in a college town. We had a lease, but again, no cell phones. Nobody knew where I went.

I’ll tell you where I went… Not back to my job.. I went to The Atlantic Motel on Hampton Beach. Back then, off season rentals were dirt cheap. They were happy just to keep a place occupied. Now people drop some heavy iron for the privilege of living near the ocean year round.

The place was kind of a dump but actually not too bad. Queen size bed, color TV, small kitchenette, but full size oven and four burner stove, medium size fridge. That was all great, cause I knew how to cook. A dollar would take you pretty far back then. I stayed there for six months. I only left once a week, Grocery store to get food for the week, The corner store, for beer and butts. (Fucking cigarettes? I hadn’t smoked for a year, I’m standing there at the counter and say, “Could I get a pack of Marlboro lights please?” Marlboro lights? I never smoked those before?) and Blockbuster Video.

Blockbuster was a great deal. For no money you could rent a new release video game for a week. I had a PlayStation, worked out well. That’s what I did for six months. Once a week I would cook my favorite meal and get shitfaced. I was living well. My favorite meal? Two thick pork chops, pan fried in butter with salt, pepper and celery seed. Mashed potatoes (Butter? You bet!) Then I would stay in beating the video game of the week, smoking butts (It was still allowed indoors), learning new songs and I still cooked each night. Nothing special.

I’m trying to remember who found me? But I was lucky, I was running out of money and had no plan. It wasn’t my best friend, D—, but someone who knew him. Somehow I ended up at a party at the Sands Hotel, a place about a mile from me down the back strip. It was a bunch of kids I hadn’t seen since high school. But I used to hang out with them then. The next day D—- called me, like Elwood Blues, “You still playing the guitar? We’re getting the band back together.” (Spoiler Alert: I’m still alive)

About five years later, M—- handed me a slip of paper with a phone number on it and said, J— wants you to call her. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to call her. You know I did. About a week later while I was on the couch at 3am watching repeats of The Simpsons, as I was wont to do. Surprisingly she picked up on the first ring. She was lying in bed next to the dude, he was sleeping, they were married now. We spoke for about an hour. She said it was because I always said I never wanted to get married and have kids. It was true, I was adamantly opposed at the time. It was nothing against her. It was in my life I never had any good examples of functional families. (Was that closure)

Once in a while, I wonder, What if? What if we got married and had kids? Would I be happier? Would I not? Are we married in an alternate universe? Am I happy there? Or am I David Byrne, wondering, “What is that beautiful house? Where does that highway lead to? Am I right? Am I wrong? my god, what have I done?”

Or my other “J”? We were never going to get married. Her parents made sure of that by threatening to cut off her college money. She had to break up with me every other month. Then she would call me a week later and ask if I wanted to get back together. I remember I went to pick her up one night and she told me to wait in the den with her father while she got ready. (Like that wasn’t a set up) She came from a proper family. We went to dinner and the next day she called and asked, “What the hell did you say to my father last night?” (Oh shit! Here we go.) “What do you mean?” She told me he has hated all her boyfriend’s but he fucking loves me! I said, “I don’t know? I told him I noticed the ’63 split window corvette being restored in the garage.”

I don’t know what her parents were worried about. I was still against marriage, we had never talked about it. She liked me because she collected Gingers, I was her fourth one. It was a good thing I got pissed at her about another bimonthly breakup. I had always let it slide before because I knew it was her parents, but shit was getting old. I don’t really wonder, What if?

I wonder, What if Not? Because a month later I met N—–, and eventually we got married and had our daughter. We both said it again the other day. With all the horrible shit, throughout our lives, we would not change a single thing. She had twin boys after we split up and of course she loves them but she doesn’t talk about them the same. They are great kids, but…

I was going to go on why I keep meeting all these “J’s” but married an “N”? But I think that is all I wanted to say.

I already wrote about another “J” a long time ago. Dark as Knight


Robot Brain

“Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers”

“Streetcar Named Desire” Tennessee Williams

Did you know Blanche was schizophrenic? I did. It takes one to know one.

I got some shit going on, man. The least of which is meeting more schizo’s. Which happened this morning. Maybe. Maybe she met me?

What the fuck am I doing? I know the super awesome person I met last week is coming over again tomorrow to flood my room with sex, so why am I trying to get laid all week? Cause I don’t know why this shit happens! While I was typing whatever I pounded out last night, I got a message on Bumble. (The definitely not a hookup site) It said, “Is it too soon or too cold to meet for Iced coffee?” It was a reference to my joke about getting hot coffee thrown in my face. Who the hell is this? (I didn’t say that) I said something acceptable. Next message she invites me to coffee at The Goat Restaurant and Whiskey Bar, a few miles from me at the beach. I said I can’t start drinking at 9am. She said they have brunch. Okay but I don’t drive I have to take Uber. She ask me if there is anything in Seabrook. I felt lame because there is nothing. I didn’t ask her but she said she is not picking up a stranger we can meet at Dunkin and sit on the bumper and drink coffee and talk. Okay. We talked time and it worked. Everything works for me. I guess. I was texting someone else and typing my blog when she asked me so I didn’t think about it. I sent her a message, I’m not going to make you meet me in a fucking parking lot! You know Linda’s? I will meet you there. Breakfast, diner or booths. Oh yes, I love diners, good coffee, good food, good people. 10am. Set.

Now I’m talking to who? Oh yeah, the broad that kept me posted on her movements all day Saturday even though I wasn’t answering her because I told everyone I was taking off for the day, would love to talk later. Yeah, we talked later, very later. Then I fucked up. We were talking about meeting and I said I don’t drive. She disappeared. It happens a lot and I usually blow it off but it bothers me. I never say anything because I understand but I just got abused by a woman earlier in the day. We were talking for a while she started out first thing bitching how much dating sites suck. I said, “You know what I love about you? Your infectious positive attitude!” Then she loved me. But she’s still bitching about guys she meets on dating sites and one thing was guys don’t drive. (That’s me) Bitching she don’t wanna be a taxi, give him money, etc… I didn’t like her anyway so I ghosted.

Meanwhile, I was getting along so well with the woman from 2am (I know their names) until I told her I don’t drive. I liked her and I understand so I don’t know why I lashed out when she disappeared. I know why. It was the woman from earlier in the day. Transference. I wasn’t scathing. But I was upset and sent a message like, I am dating site gold until I say I can’t drive. What do I do? Advertise all my negatives and never talk to anyone? All I want to do is have fun, we were having fun. I don’t want to depend on anyone. I don’t want you to be my taxi, etc…I ranted a good paragraph and went to bed.

I woke up late Sunday morning not remembering the woman who wanted to take me “to the next whiskey bar”. I texted her can you give me an extra half hour? Yes, no problem. Thank you! I will be there. Then I noticed I had a message from the woman I lashed at and I felt like a a total piece of shit. She said thanks for making me feel like an asshole for falling asleep, we all have our issues. Horrible! I told her I am sorry, it was a me problem, I should not have made it a you problem.

Where am I? Oh yeah, confluence of events. I woke up late to meet the woman at Linda’s, texted an apology to the woman I really liked. That is why I got so upset, because I liked her. The fucking whiskey woman says no problem. But I’m still thinking I’m an asshole.

I show up at Linda’s and see her at the door Surprising because there are a ton of people and I am not good at recognizing people. I walked straight up and leaned close and said , ” Excuse me, do you happen to know of a woman named K—? She is infatuated! Why? I apologize because I didn’t know there would be a wait to get in on the weekend. But at least it is better than meeting in the dunk parking lot, right? Okay. She’s manic too. Or nervous or hyper, she said something about adhd. I don’t know. She won’t let me talk. I don’t care. She is entertaining. She was really hyper. I said sorry, put my name on the list they said 20 minutes. She had to be off by noon. I don’t know. No where to go. Might as well stay here right. Actually fortuitous we got a booth in the back corner. She took the seat with her back to the wall, then offered it to me in case I like to have my back to the wall. I do prefer to have my back to the wall but I said, “Ladies choice”.

She was impressed that I had banter, but she never shut up. I didn’t have a chance to banter. I did but not really. Too much too type. She kept saying she saying, I know this is not what you are supposed to say on a first date, that’s why I never get any second dates. I told her to relax, she is fine. She was very intelligent, well educated, opinionated. Things I like in a woman. But she was unknowingly casting dispersion on me. She didn’t know anything about me except my stupid jokes on my profile. She keeps ranting, she is sick of dealing with alcoholics, sick of dealing with alcoholics. Is this a good time for me to mention I’m an alcoholic? Probably not. But we had the coffee and the eggs and sat there for 2 hours. (well past the time she said she had to leave) She keeps telling me I am the best date she has ever met and I’m thinking, everything but I can’t tell you I’m an alcoholic. We had nothing in common but alcoholic families. At the end she pulls her phone and says she wants to give me her real name and number, what do I do? I don’t want to tell her I like her but we but who the fuck am I? Okay. She lives 2 hours away! What is she doing sending me a message to meet here? And she was super careful. She told me she writes a blog that was supposed to be stories about her life but turned into hyperpolitical covid posts. She was a Trumper. But we still had a lot in common. She wanted to tell me her blog but said I would probably neverr talk to her again. Same with me. I did not mention my blog. I don’t think she would like to read about how I wrote a post while I was black out drunk.

Stop! Walking home, a mess. Pull out my phone and text the woman I made feel bad. Apologized again. Said, I’m not trying to take it back, I can’t take it back. I’m not trying to repair it. I don’t want you to reply, you were very kind I was an asshole.

I got home feeling like shit and wanted to write a evil blog. But logged on and saw all kinds of love for my stupid poem and an email from someone special. Really turned my head around. Okay,okay, mellow… The woman I hung out with yesterday is texting me. Now I really feel like a piece of shit because she is in love with me. I don’t pretend I’m looking for a serious relationship to trick women into having sex with me. I make it a point to be unserious. I’m toxic. But Friday she putt me in a trance on the phone talking about what she wanted to do. She didn’t say sex, But of course it was going to lead to sex. I didn’t care. I was in a trance listening to her talk about things women don’t do anymore. Going slow, face to face , tracing fingers, giving tingles, softly kissing, All tthe shit I love but I’m not in love. Friday night she insisted we were not going to have sex. (Did I believe that)

I put no pressure. The plan was to get beach pizza at the beach and meet and greet. Ostensibly, that was the plan. I knew that was not the plan. It was… We ate beach pizza and she asked, What now? Back to your place? Okay. Back at my place. We did all we talked about and more. I’m thinking, I love all this shit but that doesn’t mean I’m in love. It was a snuggle fuck. Of course I figured but I was content with the closeness. That is what put me in a trance on the phone. We didn’t talk about sex. I knew we would have sex. I didn’t care. I’m not attracted to her sexually. But fully dressed in bed. Not talking. Face to face. Fingers trace. I’m feeling it. I got the chills. Oxytocin, right, you know. But then her hand keeps slipping below my belt. Okay, from the person who doesn’t do booty calls. Did I say please don’t brush your fingers lightly across my cock? Do you want to use your imagination or would you like to use my imagination? I don’t know? When women has her hands below my belt and says maybe my pants are in the way? What is left to the imagination. She was pretty fucking adventurous for someone who says they have never hooked up before.

What the fuck is going on? The psycho breakfast bitch that needs Ritalin. I think I’m repeating myself. That is the wrong thing to say. She is a good person. I am the psycho breakfast bitch that needs Ritalin.

No, no, no… My phone is blowing up. I”m responding. Since I’m on there I might as well do a little swiping right? No. My dream girl from last Monday already texted me she wants to come over Monday Today is Monday! She texted me yesterday. That was my whole fucking point! All I had to do was relax and wait until Monday and have fantastic sex. Why am I trying to hook up with every woman n the planet? I’m all fucked up. It’s fucking 4am and I’m hoping my phone buzzes. I was right, the woman I cuddled (snugglefucked) Saturday, OMG, that seems like a year ago. She is in love with everything about me. She doesn’t know about me. But I want to do that again. I can’t do that again. We had a hookup and she thinks it’s a relationship.

It’s Monday now. that is all I was waiting for. Around 1am everyone went to bed. I still felt likd fucking dirt. It’s the woman I made feel bad. I typed her a long message. No excuses, No explanation. Just an apology. She is super kind, I’m a dirt bag. I never should have done that. I don’t want you to reply. Delete me.

Please Delete Me… Please Delete Me…

Kenny Who?

Heart colored pencils

“We’ve got tonight
Who needs tomorrow?
We’ve got tonight, babe
Why don’t you stay?

“We’ve got tonight” Kenny Rogers and Sheana Easton

Done gone and fucked up again! I’m telling you, when that dude was fucking with me yesterday, other people in the meeting were telling me to join Bumble. I wasn’t looking for dating advice. I told hem the reason I relapsed was because I first got laid and then got drunk.

I didn’t want to join any dating sites but especially not Bumble. I’m supposed to sit there and wait for women to send me messages? Okay? I can see that happening. But I thought about all the women complaining about regular dating sites. They get 300 “hey, babe, you dtf?” messages a night. That is why they never even see my thought out message. These women are all saying they want a serious relationship and sick of the bullshit and so am I. But don’t lie to yourself, everyone is willing to hook up.

So I join this dating site where I am not allowed to send a message to a woman even if she swipes right. Nothing I can do except hope she sends a message. But it makes sense to me. I fit into this site. I’m not one of those assholes. (Actually I am but I’m not an idiot.) But I got a swipe left face. I need words to get me through. There is no room for that. But no, I took a stupid selfie grinning like an idiot and figured out how to get myself across without a profile. Three word user name: BoringOldBill.

Fill out the info, forget about it. What happens? I start getting messages! From real people. Not many, but I didn’t swipe many. High percentage of return! They all say, I bet you’re not boring! I have several answers in my back pocket for that question. Not many matches. But three. Only two sent me messages. And one has only 24 hours to make up her mind. I know she liked me but still, I can’t send her a message. I don’t care. I feel great about this!

I’m just sitting here and women are liking me and sending messages. Because I’m not one of those guys, right? I’m not that much of a stud but someone takes an interest in me and you won’t believe, I don’t believe, (although, I know it) I am a fascinating conversationalist. I’m talking to this woman I don’t even know if I am interested in but she is sure interested in me! All I did was write the simplest fucking profile.

She says she is looking for serious relationship in her profile but from the beginning I was anything but serious. I kept the LOL’s rolling. I know what to do. Something about the weather and I knew she was may age so I screwed up the word’s to the Kenny Roger’s song on purpose. Asking, Is this even a song? She googled it. I blamed her for putting the words in my head. I’m fucking two seconds into my way to hooking up tomorrow! How do I know? I don’t know? How do you know? I hate that fucking song. She is a woman 10 years older than me, I know she loves that song! How do I know? I’m not even trying to do this. I’m trying to make jokes.

Now she is really interested and she is challenging me to do my best. My best what? I’m sitting here on a Friday night doing what I do best. I’m ten moves ahead. Don’t get me wrong. I’m only doing this shit because I like her. She doesn’t know how good I am.

Out of the blue she wants to meet. But can’t directly ask. I know how to flirt around it. I make her invite herself. Square beach pizza and cannoli’s after she meets with her sister. Suddenly her sister is not so important. I know. I know I am important. I know what we are doing.

She wants to me to call her on the phone and we talk for hours. She tells me it is the first time she has met someone online and talked on the phone and made plans to meet the next day. Well, she has never met me before. Finally she hangs up. I plug my phone in to charge and she texts me!

Four in the morning, we are still talking. She went from we might chat to she might meet for pizza to she wants me to hold her in my arms! She can’t wait for tomorrow but she doesn’t want to go to sleep. Then a definitely stated end plan! I didn’t suggest it. I just played along. I’m not playing her. I spent this much time talking to her because I have fun talking to her.

She is forgetting about lunch with her sister she used as an excuse but not really it was a round about way to ask when I am free Saturday afternoon. 4am. I know I am up but what the hell, she said good night 4 hours ago!

I’m a fucking sicko. All I had to do was plant that song in her head. I want to go to bed. She is still texting me.We can’t meet until tomorrow afternoon.

(Saturday, that was then this is now) She texted me at 9am. She cancelled lunch with her sister and can come over earlier. (What???) Okay, sure. I’m waiting for her to get ready and my phone is blowing up! This must be a scam…But no! These are normal looking everyday women. They all want to talk. Every other dating site 9 times out of 10 if I’m not dead serious or I say one thing slightly off color it is the end of the conversation. I would 9 times out of ten I never get an answer. Now I’m just sitting here. They limit your swipes to I think 20 a day. That is more than enough. I can’t keep track of the 7 women I started talking this morning. My profile definitely indicates I am irreverent. They give you a few prompt questions if you want to fill them out. I chose, My perfect first date: “Meeting for iced coffee so I don’t get burnt when you throw it in my face.” What is my plan for the zombie apocalypse? “Run faster than you!” We may get along if you find this funny: “Q. Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees? A. Because they are so good at it.”

Almost all the profiles I have read the women say they are looking for a serious relationship but they don’t seem to mind I am completely off the wall. I had to tell them I was leaving for the day so they would stop sending me messages.

I told them at the meeting online dating was a former drinking activity and a trigger. They said oh no, it’s for people looking for new friends and things to do. Okay. Sound about right. Why did I just get laid on the second day? I am keeping it under control. When I was on Tinder years ago when it was still real and the wild, wild west I went overboard. I was texting 4 women with a different variations of the name Christine. Once I accidentally texted the wrong one and that is how I ended up getting laid.

What the hell. One girl who doesn’t look like she would have a problem getting dates was keeping my updated all day. “going out with friends”, “(something)”, and just now, “I’m heading home now, I’ll text you when I get there, if you are still awake.” I said, “That should be easy, I never sleep. Thanks for the warning though. :)”

I’m purposely turning off notifications because they were non stop. I am not that big into texting. I understand that is what everyone does now and it is a necessary evil but can I eat a sandwich?

They don’t look desperate. They are not supermodels but they are pretty. They are well educated. I’m just some old ugly dude with bad jokes. I can’t be doing this but WTF? Maybe it is because I’m new. I think it may also help that I say, I didn’t understand how this site was going to work but then I figured it was for women who were tired of getting 300 “hey u up, dtf?” messaged a night. That is usually a good ice breaker.

I met A– on POF and saw her regularly for 3 years. It was 2am and I sent a message, “What are you doing up so late? Reading through all the messages from the perverts? That’s okay, this pervert can wait.” She answered me right away.

Too Clever By Half

Heart colored pencils

Before I met N___, I was nearing the end of one of my periodical 3 month “I don’t want to go out and party now”, depression breaks. My cousin was telling me I should come out some weekend, a few of them have been partying after hours at this chicks house. He said I might like her, she reminded him of J___, (my last girlfriend)

I was sick of sitting at home and decided to start going out again. Her girlfriend A___ was trying to do the same thing for her. Get her out of the house to meet people. She had lots of friends, but you know? That’s how she met my cousin, A___ dragged N, down to the Seabreeze (that place is a story unto itself). N___ like to party a little but she wasn’t one for hanging out in bars. But she went to school with a lot of the people I was hanging around with so she felt comfortable there. After the bar closed about 10 of us went back to her house and squeezed into her tiny living room and hung out.

I don’t know why the hell she reminded my cousin of J___, she was nothing like her. But she was friendly and nice enough but most of all she was fucking funny. Original, on the spot, situational humor. My favorite. She would go to bed early though, so we would all leave and go over the bridge to Seabrook for the Late, Late, Show.

There were no sparks flying between us or anything. I don’t know how long that went on but each week A__ would make sure N___ went out to the bar. I didn’t realize until writing this but A__ always made sure N___ was near me and A___ always drove and somehow I always ended up in her car with them. I guess I should thank her for that now. Thanks A___! Back then I thought it was because A__ wanted my cousin, which was true but I never noticed if my cousin and I separated at some point in the night, It would always be me going somewhere with A__ and N___. Sometimes I’m clueless.

I do remember I spent a couple weeks in the hospital for mania and when I went out again she was the only one who wondered where I had been.

One night everyone was leaving N___’s place and outside in the driveway I gave my keys to my cousin and said I would call him in the morning. I walked back inside and said I’m sorry, my ride left me, is it okay if I stay here? (What do you want from me? You know I’m incorrigible.) She had another reason for kicking everyone out early. She co-owned the house with her mom. It was divided and they each had their own half. It was only divided by a doorway which was usually open except at night when we were all there.

The first night I “got left behind by my ride”, we were in bed in the morning and I could hear two women’s voices coming up the stairs and laughing. It was her mom and “Shirl” (I can use her real name because that is not her real name) the door opened, they saw me and screamed like two teenagers and ran back down the stairs. N___ told me who they were.

Soon after that she stopped hanging out at the bar and people stopped partying at her place but I didn’t stop hanging out with her. I was still going to the bar until it closed but instead of partying I would go to see her. Then I stopped going to the bar and I think you can take a wild guess what happened after that. It’s 20 years later and we are still friends and we have the most incredible daughter.

I forgot for a long time but I got to tell this to someone new this summer. S__ and his band mates took a sudden interest in hiking and camping together. They were gone for the weekend so the wives and girlfriends were having girl’s day at N__’s house. I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have stopped over unexpectedly. I stayed for an hour. N__ always had multiple dogs. Back when I started seeing her regularly, she had three. Two Boston Terriers and a Black Lab. Kelsey, Chloe and Blue.

Those dogs used to bark at everything. They would go nuts. Except for one thing. Me. They wouldn’t bark at me. I would walk straight in the front door and up the stairs the dogs wouldn’t even open their eyes. Weirdest thing.

A couple month’s ago I was sitting with my daughter and N___ on their porch and talking about how bad drugs and alcohol were. We weren’t lecturing, we were just speaking from our own experience. We both said the same thing though. Individually. If we didn’t all the fucked up stupid shit in our lives, we never would have met each other and our daughter would never be alive. I don’t know what kind of lesson that is for my daughter… I really hope she doesn’t get into drinking. Right now she is against it.

I’m writing this now because I just heard another guy say the exact same thing yesterday. Someone asked him he was able to go back in time somehow and not start using, would he. He said no and gave the same reason.

I’ve been crying and grieving today over the loss of my family, or my idea of what my family was supposed to be. But what would my life be like now if I was straight laced? Would I be married to someone else 20 years later who we’ve fallen out of love but stay together for the sake of two screaming kids and being trapped under a mortgage and both of us find out each of us are on Ashley Madison? I’m venturing into fantasy land now but I’ve heard stories that aren’t too far off the mark. This is no advertisement for the glamorous lifestyle of drugs.

It’s what I was thinking about the other day. “Euphoric Recall”. Am I just supposed to forget about all the good times? I would much rather be a full time parent but I honestly think my daughter is better off the way life turned. It hurts, but I’ll take the pain.