Dating A Two Time Loser
Time, the one thing we have in this life that we never have enough of, and no matter what we do, we all eventually run out of time. Time to finish an exam, time to get to work, time to stand in line, time to complete a project, time to travel to a destination, time to apologize, time to love and ultimately the last time we take a breath…the time to die. Our life is ruled by time constraints on so many levels that time regulates our life from the moment we are born to the moment we die.
You can imagine that wasting time isn’t big on my list, so being trapped into wasting my time twice with the same loser guy, was not my idea of how I wanted to spend my precious Saturday night.
Flash back to TEN years ago in TIME…….
It was a time in my life where I had just come out of another long-term dead-end loser relationship, and I decided that I needed to change-up my dating strategy. So, instead of only dating what I considered ‘my type’ of guys and ones I deemed ‘Janell worthy’, I decided to be more open-minded. I made a conscious decision if someone asked me out, no matter what he looked like or what was his occupation, that I would take a walk on the wild side and give the guy a shot.
One Friday night I was out with my girlfriends at a club in Santa Monica when a well-dressed sandy-haired, somewhat cute – except for his slightly ‘bulgy-Rodney-Dangerfield-like-brown eyes’ – man would not stop hitting on me. His name was Johnny and had a funny sense of humor. Plus, he was enough of a gentleman to buy drinks for not only ME but also for my two girlfriends that I had in tow. Two glasses of wine later, and an hour or more of Johnny regaling us with stories of his frequent travels to Saint Tropez and Europe, I caved in and gave him my cell phone before we left the club. He was my first official ‘Date Whomever Asks You Out’ date, and at this point I was optimistically hopeful that he’d be a fun man to date as we had actually ALL enjoyed his off -beat humor. (And the free wine, let’s not forget about the free wine).
Hmm… Time to try something new?
Of course, the next day he called, and as he was heading back to Europe the following week he asked if I could perhaps join him on Saturday night for dinner. I didn’t have plans and I was somewhat intrigued by this ‘anomaly of a man to me’, so I decided that even if he likely wasn’t the guy for me how bad could one dinner be?
About three hours before dinner, he called me and said that he really wanted to take me to a restaurant by his home and would I mind meeting him at his house as he would drive us from there? UGH. I hate driving at night, especially if the chances are I might be having a cocktail, and on top of that, really…to his house? I was a bit hesitant in answering and he offered to pay for my cab if I made the trek his way. And, for whatever stupid-of-my-dumb-blonde-assed-part, I agreed to meet him at his house.
Really? Mother knows best!
Everything my mother warned not me to do, I was about to do: Don’t get in a car with a stranger; Don’t go to a strangers house alone; Don’t do drugs! Okay, I wasn’t about to do that unless I was kidnapped and of course plied with drugs to sedate me. It was as if my mother’s voice from my adolescence was ringing in my ears as I got dressed for my date. Okay, so I am blonde, but not an ‘entirely stupid’ blonde, as I had given his name, phone number and address to three of my friends before getting into the cab. As an extra added precaution, on route to his house I called to let him know that I was on my way and that my posse had all of his details, so he had better be on his best behavior.
Winding up Beverly Glenn to his home, I spotted a Porsche 911 sitting in the driveway. Johnny was outside pacing back and forth, chatting on his cell, awaiting my arrival. He opened the taxi door for me, handed the cab driver a twenty and told him to keep the change.
Hmm kind of classy?
His home was made of dark wood and had very modern two-story floor to ceiling windows in the front. Johnny escorted me inside and suggested we have a glass of wine before heading up to Beverly Glenn Circle to eat. As he opened a bottle of Chardonnay, and handed me a glass, a sudden pounding and howling – of what I thought were wild beasts – on the glass windows almost made me spill the wine.
The wild beasts turned out to be two very large Rottweiler’s, that were his ‘pets’. And, no matter how many times he yelled at them to calm down, they wouldn’t stop standing up on their back hind legs and pounding hard on the glass and growling and barking at me. He said that they wanted to come into the house, and would I mind? Seriously???? I love dogs, but these dogs looked like they were about to dismember me limb from limb. Not only did I NOT want them to come into the house, I was afraid to leave the house and get into his car to head to the restaurant. I made him pull his stupid Porsche into the garage, close the garage door, and when I felt ‘safe enough’ jumped into the car. As the garage door opened, and the car backed up, the waiting beast dogs jumped on and chased the car. I only remember seeing big growling teeth coming at me from the passenger’s side window as we drove out of the yard. At this point I was already terrified and had decided that my idea to date ‘whomever’ was one of the stupidest ideas that I had ever come up with.
I love dogs, but!
At least the Italian restaurant was nice and they seemed to know him there. Johnny said it was one of his regular haunts – and as an FYI only five minutes from his house (lazy ass!) – but I reasoned that beast dogs aside, maybe dinner would end up being somewhat enjoyable. Unfortunately, as our dinner commenced Johnny was now onto his third drink on top of the glass of Chardonnay he had consumed at home, and his true personality began to immerge. Topics of conversation left me for the most part….speechless.
Time to run…
….So you know what I like about the women in France? You meet them out at the beach and they come back to your hotel and do it with you right away, they don’t even ask your name? What do you think of that?… (Janell speechless, then I tried to change the conversation and he came back with…..)
….Europeans are so open minded, they have no issues about sex, threesomes, group sex, anal…no boundaries. What do you think of that?…..(A silent me thinking, ahhhh that is why you go there so much…I started to talk about the menu……)
….You know you are very classy looking, but you have a body like a stripper, were you ever a gymnast? Do you work out?…(I coped to working out, and unfortunately had to break his mental image that no, I was not and had never been a gymnast)…
…Gymnast or not, you butt looks as hard as a rock, I might just smack it later and see if it is….(I said nothing….truly truly speechless)….
….Did you see the recent issue of Playboy with blah blah blah in it (yeah right, I read Playboy), they shaved her little pussy down….What do you think of that? Do you do that or do you wax? Brazilian, do you do Brazilian? …..(A speechless Janell excused herself and went to the bathroom)…..
Time for a bathroom break, or maybe just a …
Okay, so…I hated him; and, it was my fault. I had zero discretion when I said yes to a date with a man I didn’t know. A date that started out at his house, involved taking his car, going to his restaurant, and sitting at his table, listening to him talk about his sexual proclivities all night long. I wanted out. I spoke to the hostess on my way back from the restaurant and begged her to quietly call me a cab, and to please let me know when it had arrived .
I sat uncomfortably back at the table until the hostess came and told me that my cab had arrived at which point Johnny seemed visibly annoyed. I thanked him for the dinner, and said I wasn’t feeling well. I told him that I didn’t want to ruin his evening, and as he knew everyone in the place, at least he could stay and enjoy his time with his restaurant buddies. But I, unfortunately, needed to head home. As I walked away, I heard him mutter …. “Just like a woman, get a meal in her belly and all she wants to do is go home.”…..
home home home…
Home it was for me. I was happy to be in the cab, more than happy to pay for my ride home, and annoyed that I had wasted my time giving this man a try. Truthfully an evening with Lifetime TV and take-out would have been time better spent. It was a lesson learned, and a date I would rather forget, until….
FLASH Forward in TIME to February 2017……
One of my Gorgeous Girlfriends who lives most of the time in the desert came into town and asked if I would join her for dinner. She had just met a new guy, John, when he was in the desert for a weekend with his buddies. She said he was funny, divorced, successful, and had a home in Beverly Hills. He was making dinner for her and asked if she had a friend who would like to join – as he had a friend in town visiting from France – so thought it would be nice to make it four for dinner.
She, of course, thought of me, her French speaking single girlfriend. Before she had even asked me to join she had told this man all about me and he thought I would be the perfect ‘accoutrement’ to go with dinner (so to speak).
I had wised up a lot in the past 12 years (okay so my friends reading this are laughing their guts out now thinking, yeah right Janell, funny ha ha). But, I have, yeah I definitely have learned from most of my past mistakes. So, of course I asked her gobs of questions about John, to which she had some fairly decent vague answers. When I googled the address and saw that it was only about ½ mile from my house, decided that worst case, I could UBER flee – if I was bored.
Gorgeous Girlfriend picked me up and we each brought a bottle of wine as a ‘classy token’ of appreciation for John’s home cooked hospitality. Pierre, the friend from France, opened the door and greeted us and immediately – and although not my type at all – we started to babble away in French, while Gorgeous Girlfriend went in to seek out her date.
Oh la la!
As Pierre started to show me around John’s home, I heard Gorgeous Girlfriend’s and John’s voices and turned around to see a ‘bulgy-brown-eyed’ slightly balding sandy-salt and peppered-haired Johnny smiling down at me. I almost crapped in my pants.
“So you are the hot French speaking friend. John, nice to meet you. I see you girls have already met Pierre, can I offer you lovelies a glass of wine?”
I looked at him….once again speechless…not sure if he remembered me and was playing coy – as how many times does a guy get left a table during a date – or if he actually had forgotten that horrible night.
I decided to play it cool, or play along, as truthfully I didn’t know what else to do.
Holy Shit Sherlock!
I looked around to see if there were any signs of ‘beast dog paraphernalia’ scattered about, and was relieved to see that the beast dogs had not made the transition to his new home. I munched away on my veggies and dip, sipped my wine, and for the most part was … speechless. Speechless is not usually my M.O., and Gorgeous Girlfriend commented that I was peculiarly quiet and wondered if I was okay.
When ‘John-Johnny’ and Pierre left to the kitchen to bring in dinner, I whispered to her that I had met him before. In fact, worse than that, she had met him before as she had been with me on that fateful night 12 years ago at the club in Santa Monica where we had all met for the first time. I told her he was disgusting then, and I couldn’t imagine him being much better now. But, being a good sport, I promised to play along if it made her happy.
Of course, as we ate our dinner, ‘John – Johnny’s’ slimy personality started to emerge. Once again, a few bites into our meals ‘John-Johnny’ pointed out that ‘Gee, I looked super fit, did I work out, was I into gymnastics?’ I am not sure why – maybe because I knew where the direction this conversation was heading – I snapped and blurted out: “You know I have met you before.” To which he said, “Really are you sure?”
“Hell ya I am sure! Did you used to live in a house off of Beverly Glenn, drive a 911, and have two massive beast like Rottweiler dogs?” He looked at me with a shocked ‘oh fuck’ look on his face, and said that it sure sounded like him, but swore he didn’t remember me. I blurted out that it was one of the worst dates I had ever had! One that I could unfortunately never forget, as it was up there on the platinum list of worst dates ever. As I was about to continue with my pontificating recollection, I noticed three people staring at me with uncomfortable looks on their faces.
Time to be polite, shit, fuck polite…ugh…
I managed to finish my dinner – in silence – in fact, we all finished our dinner in silence. And I, of course, made the first “I am tired and need to leave excuse”. My now embarrassed Gorgeous Girlfriend was also now too uncomfortable to stay and offered to drive me home as I think she didn’t quite know what else to do.
Of course, once in her car, she turned and looked at me and said, “Janell, what the fuck was that? That was not like you, couldn’t keep your mouth shut for just one night??” And then, I told her the entire story. And, she was grateful that I had saved her wasting her time with a loser guy.
One TIME was traumatic enough for me with Johnny, two TIMES was a painful waste of my precious TIME. I certainly hope the future doesn’t punish me with a third TIME around, because in this case, the third TIME will NOT be the charm!
P.S…..I swear, living in LA…who needs to be a creative writer, I mean GOD…you can’t make this shit up!
So the moral of this dating a Two Time Loser is….
- Stick to your standards of what you want in life, it saves you time from wasting your precious time with losers.
- Some men are just, well, fucked.
- Time is ticking, but who the HELL needs to take a licking?
Check out my book, available on Amazon, if you love your dogs… Where the Dogs Go