Wow, I guess my brother was right when he told me to get off the dating websites and just get out there and meet people.  Meet people?  I never meet anyone.  So, in my usual pain-in-the ass, sisterly way, I whined and complained and put up a fuss saying that more men approached me online, than in person.

But, my real problem was that I never went out.

Ever.

Unless it was to go to work, grocery store, or to the gym.  Clearly, I worked way too much.

But that soon changed last year when I moved back to New Hampshire and started frequenting his new bar.  I actually started meeting people.   A lot of people.  Interesting people.  What a great concept!  Who knew drinking beer could be such a social event?

Who knew beer was so yummy?

The only time I now go on the dating websites is when I feel the urge to find a horrible profile picture to entertain my Facebook fans – which isn’t that hard to do.  Just look at these two examples:

 

Note the high heels in the laundry basket…

 <======Messy house = messy life.

This picture is a trip.  Why was it so important for him to get a full-length mirror photo? WHY?  I think, if I remember correctly, he was only 5’7″ – maybe that’s the reason why he’s STANDING on his bathroom sink to get a picture of his entire body?

The pictures stir up a lot of remarks – and sometimes the remarks are funnier than the pictures.  I love my Facebook fans.  🙂

Being off of the dating websites has freed up a lot of my time and especially freed me from the tight grip of false hope that it had on me.  Ya, it was fun for a while until I realized that it’s impossible to make a true connection via a two dimensional experience.  I mean, when I did make a connection, that person ended up being bat-shit crazy, a liar, married…or all of the above.   And to be honest, my batting average got so much better when I started going to the Shaskeen and started socializing with three-dimensional people.  Now, not only have I met people, but I’ve also met a few who I might be interested in dating.  One of them is a new guy I call The Smoker.

The Smoker and I met at The Bar a few weeks ago.  I had come in that day to water the flowers, and just as I was walking in, I heard someone say, “Hey, that was a great post this morning.”  I stopped to thank whoever said that to me, and realized it was one of my fans sitting with someone I didn’t recognize.  He introduces me and says, “This is Carrie, the blogger I was telling you about.  Carrie, this is my brother.”  We shook hands and then they asked me to join them.

Two hours later I’m still sitting with them and drinking beer.

Three hours later, Nathan arrives, and by that time, I was a little toasted from having two pints and no lunch.  I needed to sober up.  All it took was for one of us to suggest lobster rolls and we were in his car in two seconds and driving to our favorite local place that serves them.

For those of you who are non-New Englander’s, this is a lobster roll:

(And for all of you New Englander’s, there are people in this world who actually do NOT know what a lobster roll is – I kid you not.)

It took us about an hour to devour the lobster rolls, a Greek salad and have a little brother/sister chat to get updated on each others lives.   Our chat usually consist of the following:  Love lives and family.  (Well, that would be my non-existent love life; his existing love life.)

By the time Nathan and I came back to The Bar, it had been about a little over and hour and The Smoker was still sitting out on the patio.   He apparently had waited for me to come back.   I was about to grab my stuff and leave, but he asked me to sit down with him again. We chatted for a few minutes and then he ask if I would be interested in coffee with him sometime.  I liked our conversations, but he smoked, so that was a deal breaker for me.

Look, I’ve dated a smoker before – The Musician.  (Don’t worry, you didn’t miss that story – I never wrote about him.) He didn’t have minty, fresh breath but, honestly, it wasn’t a deal breaker either.  Clearly, it wasn’t a deal breaker, because we dated for three years and I consider him one of the few men I truly loved.  We weren’t meant to be together for a life time, but we were meant to have  three really fun years together.

Good enough for me.

Getting back to The Smoker…I run into him all the time when I go out to The Bar.  I do enjoy his company, plus he gives incredible hugs.   Yup, you guessed it; he’s grown on me.  A lot.   And when I say “incredible hugs,” I’m not talking about a quick two-tap back-slap. Oh, no. I’m saying that when he hugs me good-bye, he doesn’t just put his arms around me for a quick squeeze…

Oh, no – this man embraces me.  His hugs feel more like he’s enveloping me with his whole being.  I’m not used to being held like that, so it takes me a second to relax.  And when I do, he pulls me in even more and then puts his face in my hair and breathes me in.

Yes, the man breathes me in.  Like he’s savoring me.  Every time.  And, it makes me melt. And that, my friends, says a lot about the man.    So, after weeks of sitting with him for hours over pints of beer, I started to see in him in a new light and as a sweet guy who is incredibly thoughtful and humble.

So, when he asked me to be his date to his best friend’s wedding, I said yes.

*DING!*

What about the Painter, you ask?  Well, it’s not like he’s been giving me  a lot of his time.  He’s got a lot on his plate going through a divorce and that’s okay.  This doesn’t make him a bad person by any means, it just makes him human.  However, I am single and if I’m not getting what I need from someone…then I need to keep my options open.

Don’t waste the pretty, right?

So, now I’m interested in two completely different people.  Great.  I can’t even remember when the last time this has happened to me.  Only my close friends will truly understand what an uncomfortable position this puts me in.  The last thing I want to do is to hurt anyone’s feelings.   And, more importantly, nobody is comfortable with me writing about them.

This is a problem.

A big problem.

What’s the point in dating someone if I can’t write about it?  It’s like asking me not to breathe.

Or drink coffee…or give up chocolate!

*GASPS*

So, what is a girl to do?

You go ask someone you can trust to be diplomatic…

And funny…

CARRIE:  Soooo.  The Painter read some of the stories about him.  Dammit.

JOHN:  Go figya!  😉

CARRIE:  He’s uncomfortable with me writing about him.

JOHN:  So, was he less than thrilled about your writing…that answers that.

CARRIE:  And now there’s a new guy who really likes me, and I’m starting to like him too, but he doesn’t want me to write about him either.  He asked me to be his date to his best friend’s wedding on Saturday and the reception is at The Bar.  You know there’s a story in there…

JOHN:  You gonna let these men deprive you of writing material?

CARRIE:  *LOWERS HEAD IN SHAME*

JOHN:  BAD Carrie…  *GENTLY SLAPS BACK OF YOUR HAND* Are there three guys or do you just have two on the hook right now?

CARRIE:  Just two.  I had no idea when I was explaining to them that I was a writer that I would be actually interested in them.  WHEH!  😦

JOHN:  I think you do pretty well at keeping people’s identities a secret.

CARRIE:  Thank, you.  So do I.  I mean, Nathan doesn’t even know who The Painter is.  *GIGGLES*  The new guy is really sweet…but there’s a problem:   He smokes.  😦

JOHN:  BLEH!!!!!   I won’t even consider dating a smoker…I don’t care if she can whistle Dixie out of her ass, while hula dancing and making brownies!

CARRIE:  So, here’s my dilemma, if I write about The Smoker, then Painter will know.  Not sure how that would fly.

JOHN:  Fuck him.  If he can’t handle sharing, then he needs to grow up.

CARRIE:  I’m taking one day at a time.  Not sure where either guy is going..just going to enjoy whatever comes my way.  No expectations.  But I’m stressed about the writing thing.

JOHN:  How’d they find out about your blog?

CARRIE:  The Smoker’s brother is a fan.  The Painter, I told him last year when I met him.

JOHN:  How much does it bother you that he smokes?

CARRIE:  We’ll see what his kisses taste like…I have dated a smoker before.  Did I tell you that?

JOHN:  NEWSFLASH!  He’ll taste like a cigarette!

CARRIE:  Well, there are people who smoke and who never get their teeth cleaned or wash their hands.  Now that’s gross.

JOHN:  Right. But the smell and taste comes from the lungs…

CARRIE:  I’m having a beer.  Thanks.  I almost threw up.

JOHN:  Because of my comment?

CARRIE:  Um. Ya.  We’ll see how he kisses.  He is very sensual when he hugs me and when he holds my hand.  I like that a lot.  He literally breathes me in when he hugs me and buries his face in my neck.

JOHN:  I can see why you’d like that.

CARRIE:  Oh ya.  I love intimacy.  Plus, he’s a little nervous around me, which is endearing.  I’m really looking forward to Saturday.