Big Red Flags

It's simple: if there is any chance of me getting involved with a certain guy, I don't talk about him here.

Because really I think it is only fair to not kiss and tell.  Privacy is important and I respect others' as well as value my own.  I mean, how can you build intimacy if someone thinks you're telling their secrets?

Best to keep the good guys "quiet".

But what about the ones where there is absolutely no chance?  What about those other guys who boggle my mind and make me want to stop dating all together?  (Alright, alright...not stop ALL together. Let's not go completely crazy here.) But the ones who definitely give me pause: what about them?

If you're in your thirties and you're single, chances are you've been on a lot of bad dates.  When those bad dates appear in my own life, I feel like the universe is handing me a large platter of lemons.  Writing about them is me making some tasty lemonade.  Because if I have to go through some bad dates, why shouldn't someone get a good laugh out of it?

But even on bad dates, I have noticed that the universe is still kind to me.  It makes it obvious.  Big red flags appear so I can spot them easily and, hopefully, avoid getting involved with the wrong dude.  With that in mind, let's play a game and see if you can spot the big red flags from one of my latest dates, too...

"Danny" was an established firefighter captain in a nearby metropolitan city.  We'd met online and our few conversations on the phone had gone pretty well.  He actually seemed a bit shy and quiet.  Being a late bloomer myself, I was fine with this.  He asked me out and suggested we grab a drink.  I was game.

Once I said hello and settled into our booth in the restaurant (I had originally suggested meeting at the bar to keep it breezy but he opted to get a table) I noticed a couple of things: Danny was more attractive than his pictures let on, Danny was taller than I realized and Danny was shaking.  Literally.  His hands were vibrating so much I worried about the ultimate fate of his innocent wine glass.  I immediately felt like I had to up my charm to hopefully calm him down.  Everyone's been nervous at some point when meeting someone new.  I didn't want his nerves to get in the way of my getting to know him better that night.

Our conversation, with a little kind encouragement, was fun and light.  We seemed to have a lot in common: same values, we both came from relatively big families and we both liked to laugh.

"I mean, who am I to judge someone?" he said at one point, coming across as really open-minded and thoughtful.  I had this calm feeling I get when I know things are going pretty well on a date.

Because at that point they were going well.

"Sometimes my co-workers will order hookers to the firehouse when they're lonely," Danny confided, not too much later in the conversation.

Um, sharp left turn.  Yeah, let's unpack that statement a little.

"So they have hookers come to the firehouse while they are working to...spend some "quality time" with them?"  I just wanted to make sure I was understanding him correctly.

"Yeah, they do it pretty regularly," he replied and then, seeing the look of horror on my face, said quickly, "Uh...I mean, I think it's completely gross.  But THEY do it."

Ponderous.  If you guessed that the questionable company he keeps could be a red flag: congrats! You are right!

"When I was 10 or 11," he continued a bit later on, "I used to keep a warm six pack of beer in my closet.  When I would get home from school I would have one just to relax a little before I did my homework."

Whoa.

"Um...let's back up for a second," I started.  "If you were 10 or 11, how did you consistently have a six pack in your closet?  I mean, you were just a kid."  Call me crazy but this seemed very strange.  When I was ten or eleven I kept my roller skates in my closet.  And maybe a stash of leftover Halloween candy.

"I lived in the city and I was tall for my age," he explained. "The staff at the corner store didn't care.  But it really wasn't a big deal...it was just one beer each afternoon."

How are you doing?  Did that statement raise a red flag for you?  If so, it did for me, too.  Good work!

"We'll have another round," he told the waitress, not too much later.

Yes, Danny liked to drink.  A lot.  I like to drink sometimes, too.  But unless I've met you before, I'm probably not having more than a couple of beers on a first date.  I prefer to not be sloppy when getting to know someone.  Plus, I like to try to get to know a guy without beer goggles on.  Because after a date that you wear beer goggles on, when people ask you questions about the dude you look back and wonder, Hmmm, I didn't really learn anything about this person after all, did I?

So I opted for a couple of pints with dinner.  Danny opted for 5 glasses of wine and 2 beers.

Now...I get it. I totally get it.  He was nervous.  And alcohol can calm you down.  We've all done it!  Plus he probably thought he could handle it with no problem, being a bigger dude.  And he also probably thought it was making him appear way more interesting and easier to talk to.

This just in: it really wasn't.  Our conversation slowed down quite a bit as his glass kept becoming empty, he kept picking the wrong words when trying to describe things and I started to actually feel worried for him driving home.

Have you spotted another?  Bingo!

The check came and he picked it up quickly and paid.  This was kind and I told him thank you.

"So...do you want to walk around the mall a bit?"  I was 50/50 on this.  Fifty percent of me knew this was the wrong guy for me.  The other, kinder part knew letting him jump behind the wheel at this point would have been completely unsafe.  I said yes to the walk.

"I have trouble sleeping so I take a lot of pills," he mentioned as we walked across the parking lot. "Sometimes I can't even keep track of what I'm taking."

Yes.  You are right again.  Another one.

I didn't really know what to say to that.  I think I might have commented on how working long shifts must have been difficult.  I mean, what do you say?

We made our way to Barnes and Noble.  He seemed happily plastered in the Travel section where he was staring at single pages for way too long to make any sense.  I left him and headed to Fiction to take a gander. No reason why I couldn't check out the new releases as he, fingers crossed, might have been sobering up a little.

Twenty minutes later I found him staring at the same page.

"I'm looking for a city in Germany," he said slowly.  "I think it starts with C."  He said the name of the city then and kept staring at the page marked for cities beginning with K.  I took the book from him gently and looked for the city he mentioned.  It didn't exist.

Yes.  You are very right.

We were soon making our way out of the store.  He was walking slowly, trying to stretch the night out even more.  I just wanted him to appear a little more sober so I could go home and he could get home safe.

"Wanna go into Brookstone?" he said as we passed it.

"Sure," I conceded.  A little more time.  Maybe he and his liver needed just a little more time.

"Wanna try the massage chairs?"

"Ok."  I might as well have been getting something good at that point.  We settled into the chairs.  His did not work despite numerous attempts on both our parts.  Mine did work and soon the machine was pounding on my back.  It made my, um, lady parts bounce a little.

"How's that working for you?" he asked.

"It's relaxing," I said.  It actually was.

"Your front is moving around a lot," he said as he stared at my chest.  Um, was he five?  You might notice things like this...you don't say things like this on a first date.  I shot him a dirty look, feeling annoyed.

"You can't give me a dirty look," he said.  "That doesn't come 'til later."

I shot him another dirty look and we started walking out of the complex to our cars.

How are you doing?  That one was easy to spot, right?

As we walked back across the parking lot, he touched a street sign for a moment and then kept walking.

"You're probably wondering why I did that."

"No, not really," I said.  "I figured you just probably encounter a lot of those signs at work."

"I just like to touch things I'm not supposed to," he said and then leered at me.

Yes.  Big.  Red.  Flag.  HUGE.

We said goodbye in monosyllabic tones.  He seemed ok to drive and I just wanted to go home.  We parted ways but not before he asked if he would hear from me.  It seems like he thought we had a future.

So if you are having your own lemonade experience dating these days, know you're not alone.  Hopefully the universe is putting up some big red flags for you, too, to guide you safely home.