Never date a guy who’s……wife left him for a black guy


Finally I THINK I found the guy. You know the one that offers a future and promises the world if you just give him a chance? His name was Patrick. He and I were set up by a mutual friend, so he came highly recommended. He wasn’t my type physically; he was a heavy set guy.  Totally not what I was used to, but I am single so I thought it was time to break the cycle and try something new. After two months of him chasing me, I finally said yes. Yes to the date that might change my life forever. So for the first time I went into this date relaxed and ready for someone that was open to a relationship, someone who is full of life and wanted to travel the world with their partner.

I drove to his house with the intention of having dinner and then going home. I walked in to his house and he had champagne chilling and hor’devoures on the table. I sat down and he poured us some champagne and we chatted about life, what we had done that day, etc…  He was telling me about his latest travels and talked about his kids.  And then… he started talking about his ex-wife. Now, that’s when the red flag should have gone up and made me grab my purse and proceed to walk out the door and into my car to never talk to him again.  But of course, trying to be open minded, that didn’t happen.

He started talking about his very young ex-wife that he was with for seven years and married to for two years. Apparently she cheated on him two different times with the same guy. And this guy happens to be black. And then he proceeded to tell me, “She wanted the BBC! (Big Black Cock)” I was shocked that in less than an hour of me being at his house on our first date he feels the need to tell me all of this. I was thinking, “Why is he telling me this? Why is he mentioning his ex? I’m not talking about mine, so why does he think I want to know that his ex wanted the BBC?” Even though the conversation took a very sharp turn, I gave this guy the benefit of the doubt.

We finally finished the bottle of champagne and then headed to dinner.  We had a fun time (probably because I was so buzzed) at the restaurant. I ran into my parent’s waiter while we were waiting for our table. I told him we were there celebrating our one year anniversary (even though it was our first date). I thought it was funny. Patrick thought it was funny too.  We finished our meal and at the end they treated us with a complimentary dessert with “Happy Anniversary” on it.  We laughed and kept the game going. We went back to his house and I was not in any condition to drive, so I decided to spend the night.  We shared a night cap and I passed out.

In the morning we got up and we hung out, having so much fun. We were just chilling and relaxing.  It was like I had known this guy for months but it was our first date. Our first date lasted twenty hours.  I have to admit, it was hard driving off because I felt so comfortable that I didn’t want to leave.  The conversation of his ex and BBC was a distant memory at this point.

Patrick and I kept in touch the following week and he invited me to a party the following weekend. I didn’t really want to go, but with much persuasion I decided to go. Needless to say, it was fun.  I did notice that he was very eager to introduce me to all of his friends at the party and encouraged me to take my jacket off to reveal my slinky dress.  I am sure I only got the invite to be his plus one so he could show me off.  Because when we returned back to his house, the first thing out of his mouth was, “I’m glad everyone got to see me with you, now they know I am over my ex.” I really didn’t pay much attention to this, as I was preoccupied with trying to locate his bottle of scotch. After a glass of scotch (or three) and an ambien I was wrapping my legs around his waist as I was lying across his dining room table. As much of the end of the night was a blur, I do remember having some pretty wild and crazy sex. We were going at it pretty hard, that it left a huge bruise on my inner thigh for two weeks!

We woke up the next day and it was Christmas morning. What better way to start the day than with a glass of scotch for breakfast? Who doesn’t have scotch first thing in the morning? As we were enjoying listening to Johnny Mathis singing “Winter Wonderland”, he asks me the oddest question that was out of left field… “Am I ok down there?” And I replied, “You have nothing to worry about.” He didn’t, but I was puzzled why he would bring this up. I guess when your young wife leaves you for a black guy, you can’t get over it. Again, I should have seen the bright red flag at this point too. But no, I didn’t AGAIN.I finished my liquid breakfast and had to leave to get ready for Christmas with my family. Patrick was leaving for Australia with his kids the following day for two weeks.

We texted almost every other day while he was away. I found myself missing him, but I think I was just excited to have someone to talk to on a regular basis than I was about him. He isn’t my type at all. I was thinking at times, “What if someone I knew saw me with this guy?” What would people think? I felt that being seen with him would be so embarrassing. He has no sense of style, he was a little overweight, his voice was too high, he doesn’t know about manscaping and he was way too into riding around town with his stupid red Porsche convertible top down (in winter)! After many deep breaths and talking myself into this, I kept texting him. I found myself putting more of an effort into the communication than I did at the beginning. I thought that since he was the opposite of every other guy I had dated, maybe this would actually work.

He flew home and he let me know he had arrived safely. I asked him if he wanted to come to my place that week and I would cook dinner and then he replied with this dinger, “I think I pre-booked myself this week with many friends.” I could not believe what I was reading. He was gone for over two weeks and he clearly was in no hurry to see me.  I was pissed.

We made plans to see each other the following weekend. I guess he thought that since I had invited him to come to my place and make dinner that I would come to his place and make dinner at his house. AGAIN, deep breath, trying to be flexible with this guy and not bitch like I have done so many times in the past. Since the asshole didn’t ever pick up the phone to call me and firm up plans, there was no clear line of communication.  He messaged me and asked, “What can I pick up from Trader Joes?” I replied, “Here are some ideas and recipes, so take your pick.” I assumed that he would pick something and I would just prepare it when I showed up on Saturday. Well, that is not what happened…

I went to his house that Saturday night and we were in the kitchen and asked what we were going to make that evening. He opens up his fridge and pulls out chicken, just chicken! I told him that I had sent all these other recipes and ideas, why didn’t you pick up the stuff to make those things too? He said that I told him to only pick up chicken; he totally bypassed all the other things I suggested. We had to go make a quick run to the grocery store down the street. As we approached his mid-life crisis red sports car he proceeded to roll the top down. I asked him if we could compromise and keep it up since it was winter and I didn’t dress for this. He so kindly replied, “Compromise would be for you to put on a jacket.” I was shocked that everything was all about him and realized how much he enjoys having all the power. This was the same guy that told me how he was the nicest guy, loves being in a relationship, treats his women like princesses and he was always the victim. He pretty much was a big fat liar (literally).

We went to the store and picked up all the groceries that I needed to prepare HIS dinner. We returned back to his place and I was in need of a stiff drink before I started making this guy dinner. After a couple glasses of wine and some George Michael radio, I calmed down.  Of course dinner turned out great, because I cooked it. He was impressed with the dinner I served. At this point everything seemed fine; we had good conversation after dinner. I had scotch and glass of red wine for night cap.  We went to bed and I passed out immediately. We woke up the next day and everything seemed fine. We were standing there in his bathroom brushing our teeth side by side. I swear the way he was standing there looking at his flabby naked body in the mirror; he is seeing Brad Pitt in the reflection. I looked at him and I saw John Goodman (and that would be a compliment). This was also the first time I got to see his body in broad day light and it wasn’t pretty. He had so much hair on his back I was trying to do everything I could to not puke. Again, deep breaths.

I went down stairs to make breakfast and we hung out and enjoyed the morning until I had to leave. He continued to talk about his ex-wife again that morning. At this point I was getting tired of hearing about her. I told him that it sounded like you are not over her. And then he went on to list all the reasons of why he was. I know there is one rule when you are just getting to know someone, the last thing you want to talk about is your ex. But he played it off and gave me some line about how he would never trade his life with her for anything, while assuring me he was over her.  I didn’t buy it, I poured myself a glass of wine and went to go get ready to go to a birthday party.

I finished getting ready and packed up my things and went down stairs to find him relaxing with his shirt off in the sun outside.  What another sight to see! I kissed him and went on my way to the party. Little did I know that would be the last time I saw him.  I walked out of his front door and out of his life at the same time. I sent him a picture of my friends and me at the party and that was the last time I had any communication with him. He “ghosted” me as they say. He just disappeared out of thin air, never to be heard from again.  Can’t say I was sad, I didn’t really think too much about it. The only thing that bothered me about him and many guys; if it wasn’t going to work that a person would be man enough to say so.

My girlfriend told me a couple weeks later that she saw Patrick’s profile on the Tinder dating app.  I had to laugh!

No matter the shape or size of the guy, they can all end up being a jerk. Don’t settle for anyone just because you are tired of being single either.


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