That One Cyber Bully

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, depending how you look at it), this entry has nothing to do with a tinder date.  This entry is about someone, somewhere that decided it would be a great idea to use my blog to promote his own.

I’ll admit I got extremely lucky when I got the URL for “That One Blog,” and I intended to use it well.  I had a blast writing the stories all of  my friends said I could turn into a blog.  All but maybe the story of my last relationship.  Of course, those posts were the ones my Cyber Bully decided to use to his advantage.  You’ll notice those entries have been deleted.

I’ve taken a break from posting, but I promise there are more awkward and hilarious stories to come.  So, thank  you @bgardner43/@BlakeTGardner for being the asshole that unintentionally reminded me why I started this blog in the first place.


That One with Dinosaurs

What happens when you’re drunk at a wedding and find yourself sitting at a table alone when a slow song comes on?   Logging into tinder and setting up three dates in one weekend of course.

The second of the three oh-so-eligible bachelors was an assistant football coach at a local university.  We agreed to meet for a drink and watch Jurassic Park afterwards, because “if the date sucks at least there will be dinosaurs.”

He moved to the area from the South only a couple weeks prior, so it was actually extremely easy to hold a conversation with him.  We talked football, careers, travelling, etc.  He played semi-pro football in Australia for a year before coaching in Florida and eventually moving to Wisconsin to become an Offensive Coordinator. It all seemed so exciting until he shared how he furnished his apartment, with donated old dorm furniture because his check barely paid his rent…

I couldn’t judge him that quickly.  I mean, I had a blast on my dorm furniture back in the day; I’m sure a lot of other people did too. 😉 So, we went and saw dinosaurs.  He agreed that Bryce Howard’s outfit couldn’t be more unrealistic and totally sucked from the beginning, and that alone was enough for a second date.  Who wears white and stilettos to a zoo!?

After a few more dates, I realized I could not deal with the guilt of dating two guys at once (spoiler alert), and more importantly, I could not get comfortable with someone who made a fraction of my salary.

For the first time in a long time, I found myself at a loss for words, so I went with “it’s not you, it’s me.”  Still the worst line in the book.

At least there were dinosaurs?

That One that Saved His Ones

What happens when you’re drunk at a wedding and find yourself sitting at a table alone when a slow song comes on?   Logging into tinder and setting up three dates in one weekend of course.

The first of the three oh-so-eligible bachelors was a middle school music teacher and competitive water skier.  We agreed to meet at my favorite pub downtown for a beer (because I couldn’t let Pocket Square ruin it for me).

When I got there, he was already sitting at a table.  When he stood up, he was a solid five inches shorter than I was.  I then understood why so many people put their height in their profiles.

We got the beer list and ordered.  He must have been trying to impress me, because he got Jalapeno flavored beer.  Common sense would probably make anyone else stay away from that choice, but I thank Stone Arch for brewing my saving grace.

In between talking about himself, he kept pausing to down his water.  I used this opportunity to get a sentence in, and he somehow always found a way to revert back to something about himself.  He was fairly interesting, but I could only take so many water ski trip stories. And for the record, for the hundredth time, working in the Dells does not mean you work at a water park or Tommy Bartlett.

Finally, he admitted he couldn’t drink anymore, because his beer was too spicy (first world problems?).  I used this opportunity to escape!  When the check came, he looked up at me and said, “Do you mind getting this?  I want to save my ones for the club later.”

I paid and walked to my car laughing.  At least I had two other dates set up for that weekend and a story for when things got awkward. 🙂

That One with Only an Hour

After FINALLY meeting a normal person on Tinder, I was starting to believe that maybe I wasn’t wasting my time.

I ended up matching with an extremely attractive guy that was a counselor in a special education classroom and getting his masters, essentially the perfect man in my book.  I took a chance and ended up asking if he wanted to get a drink.  While he was super busy with work and school, he said he could meet after his class later that week.

On the night we were supposed to meet, he texted me and asked if we could do something casual at my place instead, because he only had 45 minutes to an hour due to class getting out late.

Probably a huge red flag, but I bought some beer, rushed to clean, and made it work.  He looked just like his pictures, was extremely passionate about his career, and seemed totally worth the compromise.

Unfortunately, halfway through my Spotted Cow, the truth came out.  The reason he had such limited time was his girlfriend was getting off work early and he needed to beat her home.

Saying goodbye to him before he could finish his beer was hard for me…not because he was the most attractive man I have ever met, but because it was really hard to waste such a great beer (Spotted Cow =liquid gold) on such a stupid man.  Being the other woman is never, ever worth it.


That One who was a Stand-Up Guy

I don’t know what it is about dating apps that makes guys think they can unload every sexual fantasy they’ve ever had on a complete stranger without even a “Hi! How are you?” first.  In a sea of “Nice legs,” “You’re curvy….I like that,” and oh so classy emoji drawings, it’s always refreshing to see a message from a guy that actually wants to take some time to get to know me.

One day, I came across a message from a guy saying he’d be in town for a show in a few weeks and would like to grab a beer.  Keeping in mind that I had only met a cat and a guy that was probably into other guys on the app, I asked if we could talk a bit first.

He was a stand-up comedian with a degree in something completely different.  He had turned a passion he developed in college into a career, and I really looked up to someone that could do that and succeed.  He asked me questions and kept conversation going.   Even though I knew I was only going to see him the one time, I was excited about meeting a guy that I could actually relate to.

The comedy club he was performing at was above a brewery, so we decided  to meet there.

The atmosphere, the beer, and the conversation was great.  He was hilarious, but that probably goes without saying since he makes a living making people laugh. We compared awkward Tinder dates,  relived our history as fat children, and gushed over Aaron Carter.  I was actually really disappointed when people  started showing up for his show, and we had to leave.  He walked me to my car, and I offered to take him back to where he was staying… 😉

Just kidding…I’m not that kind of girl.

I did give him a ride though, and before he left, he asked if he could kiss me goodnight.  There is nothing more adorable to me than when a guy asks permission, so I said yes.  One thing led to another, and we made out to the entire 1989 album in the front seat of my car! Maybe that’s why it is one of my favorites, or maybe T. Swift is just that great.

He invited me to his show the next day, and it was amazing.

I didn’t find true love.  But, I hadn’t smiled or laughed that much in a long time, and I owe it all to Tinder.

Moral of the story: everyone deserves their moment with a stand-up comedian.  But seriously, if you find someone that makes you feel good about yourself, let them buy you a beer.


That One with the Pocket Square

Two weeks after the cat incident, I matched with a guy that went to the same college.  He was the self proclaimed “best dressed man on campus,” and I will admit I’m a sucker for a guy that knows how to dress himself.  After meeting a cat, my Tinder matches could only get better, right? I had never met the guy before, but he seemed pretty legit.  He was driven, had a job, and wasn’t a cat person.

We agreed to meet at my favorite pub downtown for a beer.

I value dressing to impress and totally understand that first impressions are important, but I also feel like you should dress for your surrounding. If the date was at The 95th Floor in Chicago, you would fancy it up a bit more than a pub in Wisconsin.  I’m sure you can imagine how astounded I was when I found my date at the bar in slacks, a button down, and a blazer accessorized with a yellow pocket square.

We ordered our drinks, and as we were waiting, I noticed that he was swaying to the Top 40 playing overhead.

When we sat down, we actually had a decent conversation and one that allowed room for a second round of vodka sodas.  We talked college, fashion, retail, and TV.  It honestly felt like I was talking to one of my girl friends, which probably should’ve been a sign.

He got up to pay and started swaying to the music again.  This time it seemed a little more intentional and not just an awkward twitch.

He walked me to my car, and instead of going in for a hug, he just said “I had fun tonight.  Maybe next time we can hold hands.”

I typically try to avoid stereotypes, but if a guy dresses better than you, sways to Adele in a pub, drinks vodka tonics, talks fashion like an industry professional, and  thinks you should hold hands on the second date, you have to wonder…

I wondered throughout the drive home then had a little breakdown which ended in some tears and a text to a good friend that read “I’m too pretty to be a beard.”

Better luck next time?

That One who Thought he was a Cat

Maybe I’m a little over-influenced by the countless hours I spent binge watching “To Catch a Predator” in college, but I find it extremely nerve-wracking to agree to meet someone you met online in person.

When one of my first Tinder matches and I ended up at the same football game, I figured there was no time like the present.  Cute nerd, beer, 70,000+ witnesses, and the Green Bay Packers.  What could go wrong?  We agreed to meet at halftime.

The time came, and I’ll admit that I was feeling the fair share of the Leinie’s seasonal pack I had “sampled” at the tailgate.  My friend and I (Don’t judge.  Chris Hanson always brought back up.) stumbled to the atrium and right up to the guy we had been over-analyzing for days.  After five minutes of somewhat awkward banter, he asked for my number so we could set up a date.  I grabbed his phone and typed it in before rushing off to finish watching the game.

By the time I got back to my seat, I had a text.  “Hey, it’s ________. emoji_set_73” I read it, smiled, then prepared to wait the customary 48 hours to respond.  The Packers won, the night rolled on, I kept drinking, and I let my phone die.

When I got home and plugged my phone in, I was bombarded. “What a game! download (1)” “Hope you made it home safe! download” And finally, “Hey, before we set up our date, I need to tell you something…”

Forget the 48 hour rule. When someone says they need to tell you something, you immediately text back and stare at your phone until you get a response.

“What’s up?”

“I’m part cat. emoji_set_73

“Ha ha. What?”

“Seriously, I’m part cat.”


“I’ve known since I was little, and I liked to crawl on the ground. I’m part cat. download

**That awkward moment when you realize the first man that has been interested in you since your ex thinks he’s a cat.**

“I’m sorry.  I can’t do this.”

That One Where I Introduce Myself

Let’s admit it, dating in the modern world is ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE!  Apps and social media have turned dating into a constant battle between acting like you could care less and impatiently waiting for a notification to come.

I turned to dating apps after coming to the conclusion that the ex and I weren’t going to work out. And by coming to the conclusion, I mean waking up alone after my best friend’s wedding while my boyfriend of over two years was miles away in a cabin with someone else. After a long few months of consulting my good friends Ben & Jerry, my better friends Jack & Jim, and my real friends (the ones I won’t name), I decided it was time to get back in the game.  Tinder, Bumble, Coffee Meets Bagel, and Hinge profiles were created, and I was on my way to my many misadventures in mobile dating.

Before I get to the good stuff, I feel like I should provide you with a little background.  I grew up in a pretty strict household and was not allowed to date.  Looking back, I can’t decide if this was my father protecting the ugly-duckling, chubby, school girl from a lot of heartbreak or acknowledging the fact that he had done ultrasounds on the pregnant bellies of a fourth of my classmates before graduation.  Even though the latter is a sad reality of growing up in a small town, I’m sticking with the first.  By the time I got to college, I pretty much still thought boys had cooties.  I spent three years being guided by my sorority sisters through hours of doing hair and makeup, countless conversations in frat house basements, and several forced date parties.  Thankfully, the last year I got my act together and realized that I’m a strong, caring, independent woman that would rather spend her time talking about the football game over a beer with the guys in the basement before the party rather than spending an hour getting ready for them.

Fast forward to today, I’m a craft beer drinking, college graduate, merchant/workaholic, volunteer, shopaholic, and die-hard football fan trying to find my career-driven, funny, caring, intelligent, and outgoing partner in crime that I’m sure is out there somewhere.

And so it begins…