The snowboarder part 2

I was so afraid something happened to him. We had planned where and what time we were meeting. Sure, I hadn’t heard from him since 1:00pm but no huge deal, right? Ok….he’s not answering my calls. What if he got in an accident?? The next day I even call his work and they tell me he just left. It was 5:00 in the afternoon, now over 24 hours since hearing from him.

It hits me when I hang up the phone. He did it on purpose. He’s not going to answer my calls or my texts. Is this real?

I try a few more days…I even add his brother on facebook hoping to maybe find out what I did wrong, what happened, why was I being ignored and discarded out of fucking NO WHERE. Nothing.


A month and a half later at 1:30 int the morning I get this epically long text message from a number I don’t know. It’s a scroller. I honestly thought it could be the cop or firefighter or something drunken texting me.

It said “I need to talk to you about something. I have things to explain. I have treated you like shit and there is no explanation for you deserving this. You deserve the world and I would do anything to deliver that to you. So, I would like to meet up with you. I will talk to you tomorrow about it. If you want.”

It took me hours…and randomly it hit me. Lane. My whole world stopped it felt like.

I saw him that night. We met at the same bar we had last gone out to. I was shaking. He was shaking. He wouldn’t even look at me when he spoke. He was scared. He told me about his former daughter. I knew about her, a little. He told me his ex and said she was pregnant with his daughter. That he raised her and financially supported her. When this little girl was three his whole family kept saying, you know she doesn’t look like you. He finally got a paternity test.

0.0% chance he was her father.

What I didn’t know was that had happened like TWO months ago. He had fallen into a deep depression. Hadn’t even been speaking to his friends or brother or mom. Told me I was the first person he reached out to.

I knew I had forgiven him the moment I saw him honestly.

The bar closed and we went to my car and he hugged me, and we just didn’t separate. My head rested so beautifully on his chest. Everything in me was screaming. He asks me to come over, we sit on the couch and open up about all our hardships we’ve had in our lives, our highs and lows, all the pain and love we’ve suffered. I finally kissed him at about 6 in the morning. He took the whole next morning off again to stay with me longer in bed.

He told me he wanted to see me again and again. Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday he was most free. I say- you know Saturday is Valentine’s Day. He says, yes I know. I swoon.

Two nights later I’m leaving a really boring drinks date with a guy I’ve never spoken to again. I’m in buckhead and tell the snowboarder I could pop up and visit with him possibly. He says to come over and I get there and his roommate opens the door and I walk in. He asks, sorry have you been here before? I was like…umm did Lane not tell you I’m coming over? And umm we’ve met before buddy, good lord.

Lane just sits there and plays video games for like 45 minutes, barely talking to me. Then he tells me his stomach hurts and he’s gonna take a bath. But to come with him. So I am just in the bathroom with him sitting on the tile while he takes a bath and we talk. He’s looking rough. He seems depressed. We barely kiss at all that night.

When we walk out the next morning out of the building, he doesn’t walk me to my car. He kisses me really long and says he will talk to me in a few minutes when he gets to work. The next night was Tuesday, we were supposed to hang out. He works late and keeps pushing it back and back until it’s after midnight and I just fall asleep. In my clothes. With my phone in my hand. Waiting for him.

I tell him the next day that I felt stupid about waiting on him like that. That I didn’t even eat dinner, hoping he’d call and say he’s done at work and we should meet up and grab a bite. He says “ouch that hurts. I’m sorry that work kept me”

That night it’s Wednesday. But I don’t hear from him the rest of the day. I go get my hair done. I’m excited to show him on Valentine’s day. Surely we’ll see each other then, right?



I call. I text. Valentine’s day comes and goes. Nothing. I cry. I meet other people. But I can’t shake him. Is he doing this to me again? Really? How did I set myself up for this? Did I come on too strong? Did I let my walls down that easily?

He’s going to come back. I know he is. How will I ever keep away when he does?


The snowboarder

Oh man heartbreak. My stomach is in knots today thinking about him. I was up in Woodstock helping my friend shop for a car…..thinking the whole time I was so close to where he lives. I know all the codes to his apartment, know which one is his….Went there enough times….the thought crosses my mind in the leftovers of pain to confront him and demand answers


Twice. He hurt me TWICE. I gave him a second chance and I’m still stuck alone without him. I could have fallen in love with him. Honestly, I still could. That’s what sucks the most I think. We connected more than anyone I have since I first met Matt five years ago.

I want to call him by his first name, he makes me so mad. But I know he’s in pain. I know he’s not ready for anything like what I wanted to give him.


When it rains, the front windshield in my car fogs up and I see his message he wrote for me with his finger across it. I always forget to wipe it…maybe I don’t want to.

Ok the snowboarder. We met in the dead middle of the night on tinder….yes, I know. I was the first person he matched with he said. We texted until dawn. We clicked. We met the next night. HE was nervous. Had never met someone from online before. After the second place we were at, he’s watching my take a drag from his cigarette and tells me I’m the most badass girl he’s ever met. Me? Badass? That’s a first.

He says he doesn’t want our first kiss to be in a bar. But that he wants it. We are the last people to leave the bar basically at 2:30am and decide to go to waffle house so we can just still be with each other, even if just an hour more. I leave the bar with a paper menu from the place. He had folded it up into an origami rose while he was talking with me. I had no clue what he was doing with this paper for like five minutes until it revealed itself to be a flower. For me.

When we leave his car at waffle house he grabs my waist and draws me in for our first kiss. I could have fainted.


The waitress greets us and says “wow you are so pretty young lady! Just beautiful!” I turn so red and she decides that our coffees are on her because it’s our first date!

He takes me back to my car after. The softest kisses. The softest, people. Heaven sent. Full of love. Not lust.

We tell each other we have never met anyone like the other. I ask him- the first time I’ve ever asked a guy this since I’d been dating- when can I see you again? He says “every day humanly possible, darling”

I put my paper rose in the middle of my car to look at every moment I can while driving.

He goes snowboarding all that weekend. He designs snowboards. Works for a huge company and store north of Atlanta called Ambush. And he models. Yep. Another model. He doesn’t pay for any clothes he owns. He just gets to keep what he models.

We see each other that next Monday but not until like 11pm because he’s stuck at work. I decide to meet him in Marietta. And when I get to the bar I meet his brother, his best friend, his best friends gf AND his roommate. Holy shit. He wanted me to meet all of these people already? Were they already here? Or did he ask them to come?

After time with them, we go to Nik’s Place just the two of us. We take the KENO cards from the bar and right secret messages full of love and flirtation back and forth quietly. I fold one up and slide it over. I wrote “I want to see you every single day”

We go back to his amazing loft apartment that’s in this like renovated factory type thing. His snowboards are showcased and hung up all over. So freaking impressive. We stay up till…god I don’t know like 7am? The sun was coming up. He calls into work. He took the fucking day off to be with me in his king sized bed even longer. Just hours of soft kisses. Making plans. Laughing. Listening to music. Showing pictures to each other of our lives.

I keep telling him I love his smell so much. When I have to go to work, he takes one of his shirts and douses it with his cologne and tells me to take it with me. We kiss long and sweetly at my car. We plan on meeting two days later. He never shows.

The Beatle

Oh the Beatle. Both his first and last name are names of Beatle’s members first and last names. He’s my musical muse in a way. He has turned me onto new singers and bands more than anyone I can remember. We have the exact same taste in music. Catfish and the bottleman, Zella Day, Alex Winston, Banks to name a few—all were because of him. All of those covers on my instagram I sing and play, thanks to him I learned those.

Obsessed with this band now.

Listen to all of this girls songs.


I met him the same day I met him. It was the second time I downloaded tinder to my phone. He was my first match. He said he was going to the EARL to see a show and so I just decided to meet him there.

He’s a weird mix of personalities. He went to Ole Miss and hast these pictures of him looking super fratastic. But then he has these other photos of him looking semi hipster and hip. He’s both a financial accountant and a movie and TV extra here in ATL. So he really pulls off these thick rimmed glasses, Vampire Diaries costumes he’s put in but then he always completely rocks the whole northface jacket look.

We really hit it off that night. After the show we went across the street for another drink and we were comparing how big his hands were compared to mine, and then we just never separated hands. We just kept holding hands there while drinking.

When we started walking back to our cars it started raining. He pushed me hard against my car and kissing me there in the rain. It was like lightning hitting me. We decide to go get in his HUGE car…like really it’s some kind of like escalade or something- ridiculous. The kissing is hard and fast and intense.


When I get home after that we text little naughty things to each other for hours into the morning.

He meets me at Twain’s the next week after work and it’s so comfortable walking up to the door with his arm around me in our big jackets. We tease each other a lot, it’s like a mean flirtation in some ways which is the kind that makes me laugh the most. But then he will slip in these beautiful compliments every once in a while about my eyes or how he’s been wanting to kiss me so much. I tease that he actually is a big sweetheart underneath the whole cool guy prep/also hipster look. He says he is but he’s been too fucked over by girls in his life. Great…..

His pet is a rabbit. His ex’s rabbit. And he loves this rabbit. Yep.

He lives really far out of the city….with his parents….

But with these weird things I’m still wildy attracted to him. He’s so confident and sure of him. He’s handsome and funny and has the best taste in music. I have him over and we go crazy on each other- not even making it to the bed, just on my rug. Not sex- jesus give me a break.

He heads out since it’s a weekday and he has a real job. We text EVERY SINGLE day. I honestly can’t say that about any other guy I’ve hung out with. We exchange music links, flirtations, pictures, complaints about life.

But it’s been three, gosh maybe four weeks since that night at Twain’s. I ask him to hang out, he asks me to hang out and it just hasn’t happened. He’ll work late, I’ll work late, he’s tired…..I have another date…..etc lol

My best friend from high school is in town visiting this weekend and we are out at Argosy last night. The Beatle texts me saying he’s in my neck of the woods and is just not done with work stuff. It’s 9:30pm dang dude that’s a shitty job. I tell him we are in the village at Argosy and well….I get a tap on my shoulder a little after that.


God damnit I forgot how handsome he is in those glasses. What a nice surprise to see him. My friend sweetly allows him to take his seat and we try to catch up a little bit. I tell him I wish he would try harder to see me more often. And that I’ve been seeing other people. He asks how many. I said five. He asks me to describe each of them. Ok…. you asked for it buddy.

Told him about the set dresser, the piercer, the architect, YTS and the arrested father (yes, the arrested father is a new one I’ve never even mentioned on this blog yet)

But honestly- if I remember correctly about when I actually did last see The Beatle, I’ve actually dated many more guys since then than just those five.

I see my friends closing out their tabs but I really don’t want the night to end. But crap wow it’s already after midnight?! Where did the time go?

I walk The Beatle out the car and the sweet compliments start slipping into conversation as we stroll. I tell him again I really do think he is a secret nice guy and doesn’t want to admit it. We sit in the car, knowing my friends are waiting for me. We don’t have enough time……he kisses me. But fucking A, Beatle, you start going under my dress IMMEDIATELY?! I’m like dude put on the brakes for fuck’s sake. He jokes that he couldn’t help it and had been staring all night wanting to do that. We kiss a little more and I run back inside the bar.

We text little nothings to each other all night again….I bug him that he needs to grow up and move into the city already.

I wonder if he’ll make me wait four weeks to see him again.



Did you know there’s an app to rate guys that you’ve gone out with now?? An anonymous app where girls can tell other girls what a guy is really like. You say whether its an ex, a previous hookup or someone you’re still talking to- you rate them based on hilarious hashtags, both positive and negative ones.










The architect got #cantdance

WOW bitch. WOW. Yea, he can’t dance- he’s in a fucking wheelchair!


Wheelchair BMW driver — The architect

Ok when I was thinking of his code name….I did it all wrong. I feel like a racist or something calling him the wheelchair. Just because he’s in a wheelchair- that’s how I’m going to identify him? I’m such an asshole. No, he is the architect. He’s way more than one physical feature of him.

When the architect and I met on okcupid we spoke for a week and I decided to give him my number. His profile really stood out to me I remember because he was very confident and basically called out girls that would message him out of pity. And his knowledge of nice legit ATL restaurants spot on.

The architect has been every where in ATL that I want to go to eat. He goes to restaurants on the weekend they open. He knows his shit.

After I give him my number he doesn’t use it. I’m thinking oh meh I guess he’s not interested then. But he explains that he will text me when we’ve been talking long enough. Ok- I can do that.

Two weeks later I am running late to Krog Street Market to meet him. It’s raining. He moved where we were going to meet because the first place, although they were accessible, they were not comfortable accessible he explains. I can’t imagine….having to call a restaurant before a first date to ask them about their accessibility? Said it wouldn’t have been good for him to have to squeeze into this small place he had first picked.

He’s cute. Has a gold chain on…meh not my thing- a little guido if you ask me. We get our name on the list at Craft Izakaya and decide to go grab a beer at Hop City. It’s a tall bar you walk up to and they have like 30 drafts. People watch us. It’s different, but I don’t mind it actually. I hold our beers while we try to find a seat. He is really strong actually, constantly using his arms to push himself around.

Dinner was unbelievably Delicious. We laugh a lot. He tells me I’m a hot date. We go back to Hop City after and have another drink even because we are enjoying each other so much. I tell him I want him to show me how he drives his car. So we go out to the parking garage and he has to teach me how to entirely take apart his wheelchair and put it in his BMW trunk so I can sit with him in the passenger seat.

I was actually nervous. What if I fuck this up? He even has a laminated tutorial in the trunk for his friends and family when they do this for him. When he’s alone, he undoes the wheelchair wheels and what not and puts it next to him in the passenger seat. I realize as I’m bending over trying to figure out how it all comes apart that he’s checking me out. I got a huge rush of excitement run through me catching him like that.

He takes me to my car and I realize I don’t have my phone… you see a fucking trend of this or is it just me…..when I get out of the car, I go to the trunk and move his wheelchair back to his passenger seat. OK how is our first kiss going to work? I’m not sitting next to him anymore….should I go over to the driver window and lean in? Does he even want to kiss me? He has to.

I go around to the driver side and right before I am going to lean in for the first kiss—I see my phone… a puddle next to my car……It has been sitting in that puddle all through dinner, probably fell out of my lap as I got out of my car. Shit.

We laugh about it and he says “you can kiss me now, you know” and I do.

He offers to have me follow him back to my place since I didn’t have my GPS. When I get home, I lean in again and kiss him. We kiss a little longer this time. He wanted to go out longer and try another bar, without my phone and all I don’t know I just wasn’t feeling it.

He asked me out again the next day for that next Wednesday. When I woke up that day I was having an allergic reaction to something or other I ate and my entire face is all puffed up and red, my eyes are swollen shut. I explain and cancel- I think he thought I was blowing him off though.

He adds me on facebook and we chat once or twice more but he kind of fades away. His pictures on his facebook are him at nightclubs with big groups, beautiful girls sitting in his lap. He told me he gets asked a lot by wasted people if he is sexually capable- but not in those terms. More in blunt rude terms. I never asked him after hearing him say that. If he wants to tell me, he will I decided.

I started thinking about him after seeing him post on facebook pictures of new restaurants he was trying like Cokentrice and Illegal Food so I text him and ask if I could twist his arm to try to go to Pallookaville again like we were for our second date. No twisting necessary he says.

We were planning on going out tonight. The snow was supposed to come here yesterday and today so I started thinking we may have to reschedule AGAIN which really may put a nail in the coffin to it all.

Well to pull from another post I’m about to do- I’m out with the set dresser Wednesday after spending the night together for the first time, we have grabbed breakfast, went to IKEA to shop for his new apartment and decide we will get snowed in together- so Publix is next. Our cart is full, we are flirting and touching every once in a while, laughing. He’s a little further down the aisle when I notice a guy in a wheelchair out of the corner of my eye looking at the same things on the shelves as me. It happens in like 3 seconds, but literally I did go through the whole thought process of- well I only know ONE person in a wheelchair– there’s no way the architect is next to me right now, RIGHT? I look over and his name bursts out of me with a surprised smile.


Wow- he looks good. Like really good. He has this full beard now. I tell him I was just going to have texted him about dinner and what not with the weather. Tell him I’m shopping with a friend and gesture towards where the set dresser is but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. We decide to move our dinner to the weekend and we say bye.

The set dresser walks up closer to me and asks who that was. I said well it’s someone I’ve dated. Couldn’t read his reaction really….intrigue? Not jealousy. IDK…

I text the architect later that day and say I was so happy to see him. He tells me that he had actually seen me earlier in the store and was checking me out from behind but didn’t see it was me. Says he loves a girl in boots and a dress. I tell him he looked incredibly handsome to me too and I’m hoping to see him again.

The photographer and the basement dancer

By special request I’m doing another odd one today.

I didn’t see but one picture of this guy before agreeing to meet him. We actually talked for about a month and a half before finally meeting. That’s because he doesn’t like coming into the city, doesn’t like bars, doesn’t like crowds, doesn’t like smoke— ok well I guess we aren’t going to a bar for drinks.

But his photography……damn. I just wanted to have some of his creativity rub off on me. And I’ve always wanted to do be in a photo shoot and be “making love to the camera” or some bullshit to the point that the photographer just puts his camera down and takes me on the set.

He not only did beautiful old pictures of little towns around Atlanta, an abandoned house with a damanged piano- he did models. Not DID them. He shot them. Not SHOT- god you know what I mean.

But the models were crazy stunning. Tons of tattoos, piercings, hot rockabilly look in all of them. Like who I’d want my alter ego to be.

 We met at Flat Iron in EAV for dinner. He is much more of a ginger than I realize. And super skinny. Fine whatever let’s just talk creativity. He tells the bartender after I order a PBR that he’d like  a beer. She says which? He says I don’t care whatever. She’s like well what do you like? He says just surprise me. She says well we have a ton of beers…light, dark- what do you want? He says just pour me something- god I don’t know!


I was like ok….this is an awkward start. She picks one she says most people like. I had never heard of it but whatever- we order burgers.

He is kind, yes. Genuinley interested in my art and music. Says he wants to take me on top of buildings to shoot the Atlanta skyline after dinner but that I didn’t wear the right clothes to be climbing things. GOOD I’m thinking.

He is name dropping a ton of photo jargon I cannot keep up with. He starts talking about that most of the models he shoots are stippers or drug addicts and that they aren’t really beautiful at all, that he photo shops them to look like that. That he’d never be with someone he shoots.

Oh ho then he starts talking about how he actually recently decided to be celebate. Ok… I can respect that. Do you mean FOREVER? He says no probably not forever but that sexual desire is a distraction from art. That masturbation is unnatural and is keeping people blind to what they need to take care of and be productive in life. Yes, you heard me. He said masturbation is unnatural. He said that Netflix is basically a sing too because it distracts people from getting things done and using their life to their fullest. And Netflix and sexual things are the same in that way. It takes people away from what they should actually be doing in their lives. And for him, that’s photography.

Welp! Okey Dokey!


I tell him I’m tired and we wrap up dinner. Awkward butt out hug at the car. I get home and I’m like…umm I did NOT get in this dress for my night to be done at 10:00 on a Saturday.

I get on tinder- get matched with the basement dancer. He is at The Basement below The Graveyard where I literally just pulled my car away from. Fuck it- I’m going dancing. I’m gonna meet this guy I just got matched with two minutes ago.

I go to the graveyard. He says he’s the guy with glasses and a tie at the far end of the bar. Spend my last dollar in cash to get in- $7 to the graveyard. Hmm it’s really ghetto in here I’m thinking. Not my style of music but ok…

As I’m squeezing in between the masses of people, multiple guys put their hand through my hair saying Hey Girl, or grab my ass or try to say something to me. I’m like this is not right. I should just leave- I can’t even find him. I keep asking- how do I get down to the basement?!!? No one knows what I’m talking about.

WELLLLLL the basement is actually UNDER The Graveyard Tavern, you leave the building, go around and downstairs— oh and get this- pay another cover!

So I grab two shots, down them, go downstairs and talk a girl in line into paying for me in cash and I’ll buy us shots at the bar with my car. THANK GOD she agrees.

I finally meet him after AN HOUR of confusion. Short, cute guy. We dance our asses off and have a blast. He’s lost his friends. He helps me get up on the stage and dance with the other girls up on these boxes dancing go-g0 style to 1960s and 70s music that a bunch of white hipster assholes and I are screaming at the top of our lungs.


He joins me on stage, brave I thought, gets a text and says SHIT my friends are leaving, they’re my ride, huge me and bolts.

I’m like screw it, I went through too much to get in here and all- I’m staying at least another hour. And I do. Meet some girls dancing. Laugh, talk about gross guys staring at us etc.

I text him the next day thanking him for inviting me and he says he had fun and loves showing people that event that I guess is a monthly thing that happens– yes, I’m going this Saturday to it, alone or not, I don’t care—- And I never hear from him again.

The piercer

This is ones for the books. I needed to get a funny one in here today.

Tinder-32-works for some gun manufacturing place-former Marine.

We had a great time talking about the over 20 countries he’s been to. Love travel talk. You’d be surprised how many schmucks have never left the country. No offense if that’s you….maybe a little offense get on that for fucks sake!

Beard, cute pictures. We meet at the Vortex. Felt bad because I had to cancel on him once. He walks up….and he’s my height. Ehhhhhh……that’s like a thing for me.

But also the beard- yea MUCH longer now than what it was in his pictures. Like its now this unruly long bushy gross thing. Needs a cut bad. His whole head of hair needs a fucking wash and cut. Like ok yes be a lumberjack but use some fucking beard oil. Condition that shit. His hair was so long at the top- it was like this semi afro thinning on thing towards the top of it. Just way too unkept for an adult.

We are having our first drink and I notice his tattoos on his arm. I am a sucker for tattoos. Have none myself so I find them really sexy. But not the stupid ass drunken tattoos that mean nothing on a guy. If it doesn’t have a story and meaning- fuck off.

He says he has countless tattoos but there’s one he regrets he got in Japan but he’s getting it covered up currently. Oh yea? What is it of?

“Oh well above my groin in big red letters it says SLUT”


He shows me this picture of what he’s getting covered as- this eagle thing. And he says- see, you can barely see it now. And I’m like OH that’s your torso?? So you have nipple piercings?????

“Yea I have five piercings”

Searching his face….none.

Ok so I know about two……oh…..god……no……..

So you have like some kind of prince Charles or something?—–“Umm it’s a prince Albert.”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Well I never want to see that. But umm that’s THREE. Where are the other two?

***Do not be eating if you read further***

These apparently are official piercings, have names, all that. I have never heard of them. One was like a geisha or something.



Oh  ho ho ho ho it gets worse. He tells me this story of how they did the taint piercing wrong the first time, he ad to go back the next day and get it done so it wasn’t crooked so his HOLE is larger than normal!!!!

Please God NO



Here’s a couple other gems I learned during dinner:

He was rejected from all the police jobs he applied for after the marines because he was told he “talks too much”

He works on the factory floor of this gun place, has applied three times for a promotion and has been denied every time

He lives with his parents


Honestly, when he kept texting me after that I told him we had too many differences and he wished me luck and I thought that was very gentlemanly.