I was walking home on Thursday night, last week, listening to episode 5 of the podcast, “This Is Why You’re Single”. (This Is Why You’re Single, is a podcast where two women offer their opinions on why we, women, find ourselves single. They explore the various reasons and offer their opinions and perspectives). As the episode progressed eventually got to the topic of a fuckboy (definition below – UrbanDictionary.com); as they recited the definition from Urban Dictionary.com, I was overcome with the realization that I had, in fact, dated a fuckboy. When I say dated, I don’t mean went on a few dates; I mean I had a full-on, over a year long relationship with, what is now labeled as a Fuckboy!
The Set Up: I met R_Badoo in the Fall of 2014 (I want to say around early October). I will be honest and admit, that I had started talking to him via the app while I was still technically with my ex. My ex, at the time, was back in his country of Trinidad & Tobago and the relationship had been on the rocks for months prior. When he had to go back, I hate to admit it, but I was happy. Before I made arrangements to go on the date with R_Badoo I told my ex that I couldn’t date him anymore. A few weeks later R_Badoo and I had our first date.
First Date: We met downtown by Union Square; we went to the movies and then got burgers at a nearby restaurant. We laughed and joked and filled each other in on details. He lived in Queens, had a car, was a manager at Whole Foods, had an almost teenage son, lived by himself, and didn’t smoke or drink. He liked sports (almost all of them), played basketball, and liked to travel. His past relationships were 7 years (which gave him his son) and 5 years after that. The date went well and it was refreshing to be on a date again, especially with a man that had a good job, his own place, a car, and seemed to have his shit together. At the end of the date we walked back to the train and went our separate ways.
Second Date: November (1-2 weeks after the first). We met up and went to Counter in Times Sq for dinner then walked to Bryant Park. The Winter Village was up so we walked the shops and got hot chocolate. I was expecting a kiss but he didn’t try that night. I wanted dessert so we walked up to Magnolia bakery; I got a banana pudding and I offered to buy him a dessert but he declined. After paying we left the bakery and walked a little bit more. Once again, we each got on our separate trains home.
Third Date: A week later, dinner and a movie and finally we had our first kiss. It was sweet and powerful at the same time. At the end of the date we went on the train our separate ways, another great date and finally broke the ice with a kiss, and I was so happy it was a good kiss.
For our fourth date he invited me to meet him in Queens. I worked in Long Island City at the time; I took the train to near his stop where he was waiting for me in his car. We drove to his place and ordered in. From what I remember I think we watched a movie and probably some sports. When we got into bed I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised. The sex was great. In the morning, he drove me home so I could get ready for work.
The above pattern became our routine. After our first night together, a lot of our follow-up meetings took place in his apartment. Long gone, it seemed were the days when he would go out of his way to come and see me. Everything became come to me, I’ll pick you up from the train and we would always end up at his house. That winter had particularly bad weather; there was constant snow and rain. He would mention alternate side parking and the streets being difficult, etc. I’ve heard this story before, from my mother especially, so I gave him some slack. I didn’t call attention to the fact that my friend was going on dates in the dead of winter using cab services because her guy at the time didn’t have a car. The point being- he still made an effort.
November, December, and January went by smoothly enough and then came Valentine’s Day.
Valentine’s Day: By now, we had been seeing each other since October (about 5 months), I was entitled to a Valentine’s Day date. He had expressed to me early on that he was not big on holidays so I asked him to take me out. At this time my friend what having some serious dating troubles and I wanted to be there for her. I asked R_Badoo what his schedule was like for that weekend, and he confirmed that Saturday night would work; so, I, in return, confirmed plans with my friend for Friday night. A week later (the Monday leading up to V-Day) he called me and told me about his sister’s party and that he would possibly have to stay late at work Saturday for inventory. Naturally I asked how this affected our plans and he said we could switch it to Friday. I then replied that I couldn’t because my friend made her plans for Saturday, based on our prior agreement. So, naturally I was annoyed but I tried not to make a big deal about it since there was still a possibility of a date happening.
On Saturday, I woke up, got brunch and checked with him- he was still busy at work. I asked him about later and he said that he would let me know. After brunch I went back home. At around 8pm I called him again and he said he was heading to his sister’s house for her birthday and I was livid. I went to a Mexican restaurant downtown, had dinner and a few drinks. At about 2 margaritas in he gives me a casual call to see how I’m doing. I have never been one to bull shit so I told him I was upset. Sitting around all these couples, by myself, on Valentine’s Day was not how I wanted my evening to go. His response; “don’t worry- we have time”. He brushed my feelings off like there was nothing wrong with the entire ordeal.
Over the weekend, we planned to see each other on Monday. At work I messaged him that I was still expecting my date. (In my mind- if he made up for cancelling our date then I could move past my annoyance. So I was hoping that he would agree to dinner, a movie, and a night of great sex). By this time; no longer was he meeting me at the train, I was taking the bus to get to his place after the train- Oh! How the mighty had fallen. Nonetheless, when I got to his apartment I thought that he would be getting ready for our make-up date, but he was laying in bed and watching tv in his pajamas. I sat down on the bed, tried to remain calm as my blood began to boil. After about 15-20 minutes I asked him, what was going on, and when were we heading out. His response- he was tired and didn’t feel like it. I saw red. I was furious and extremely hurt. I took the card that I got for him, left it on the bed, and walked out.
When I walked outside it was pouring rain. If this were a movie this would be the scene where the guy comes running down the street, screaming my name. He would take me in his arms, apologize for being an ass and we’d live happily ever after. This, however, was no movie. The reality was that I walked about 3 blocks, all the time crying my eyes out. I called my friend, Cat, (who was on a date with her now husband) and vented to her; she was there for me in that moment the way I was for her that weekend. The second harsh reality was that I was totally and utterly lost. I didn’t know if the direction I was walking in was right and I didn’t know how far the walk would be to the train. I did not have Uber or any app at the time and no knowledge of a cab company out there. So, unlike the strong female that I am now, I turned back around and went back to his apartment.
When I got back we had an argument that resulted in nothing but me being more sad and him having his way. He called me spoiled and said that I was acting like a brat over a date. I made it clear it was about more than the date. The fact that I had to ask for the date in the first place was a problem. The fact that we agreed on a date and time and that he so leisurely cancelled was a problem. The fact that this evening was supposed to be the makeup date and that his claim was tired (when he wasn’t too tired to play ball earlier in the afternoon) was the problem. He claimed that he was going to invite me to his sister’s dinner, which would have been nice, but the fact that it NEVER happened was a non-factor. I stayed over that night but the bed was cold, in the morning we made up; which really means I waved my white flag and put my feelings aside.
Stay Tuned for Part 2 of the Ex Files.