Chapter 1: The Lumberjack

Don’t you just hate it when you have a 30 year old man chasing after your car at 1:30 in morning out in the pouring rain with only his boxers on as you’re peeling out of his apartment parking lot?  No?  Maybe I should back up a little bit (insert old school tape rewind sound here).  It all started the summer after my divorce.  I had gone through a long and difficult process and it was finalized in May.  My daughter was about a year old at this point, and I was starting to get used to the idea of starting over.  My best friend’s boyfriend mentioned that he had a co-worker who had seen my picture and wanted to meet me, and at first I wasn’t sure if I was ready to start dating again.  Eventually though, the meeting was set up and we all went out on a date together.  It was a really good time.  Things went like that for a while, we would meet up at our mutual friends’ house and all go out on Saturday night.  It was a nice set up because I’d never had “couple friends” before.  We dated for a while, he even helped me move into my new apartment.  It was going great.  


After about 4 weeks, he started dropping the “L” bomb.  Now, I know there are some people who just fall madly in love very quickly and that’s just great for them, but that’s not me.  I’ve only said “I love you” to two guys in my life that I wasn’t related to, and one of those guys I was married to for 4 years (together for 7)!  It has a lot of meaning to me so it’s not a phrase I just throw around.  However, this was not the case for the lumberjack.  The first two times he said it to me, he was drunk (which became a reoccurring theme with him).  I started to notice that after a while I was always the one driving or we would cab it everywhere, and I began to wonder what his obsession with big gulps was…?  Hmmmm…. Anyways, getting off track.  So after about 3 months of dating, we decided to make it official: I had a boyfriend.  He was cute, tall, somewhat athletic with blondish hair.  He had good manners and would pull out my chair and open doors, and was just an all around good guy. He had a cute personality, good job, and a really nice apartment on Mercer Island.   It was even decorated nicely; still manly but put together.  He was even really funny and always trying to impress me in cute ways.  He invited me over for a dinner one night so he could “cook for me”.  He made this delicious stuffed chicken with feta and calamata olives and I was thoroughly impressed…until I found out it was a premade meal from Trader Joes from a friend of mine.  Then I found it adorable.   I thought to myself “not too shabby for the first boyfriend out of the gate!  This may even really turn into something…”  If I had the capability to go back in time and tell myself two words they would be thus: Wishful Thinking.  


Things started to fall apart when we would go out to the casino.  Turns out he liked to gamble…A LOT…and I’ll leave it at that.  And usually, with the gambling came a few beverages and a few sometimes for him turned into a lot.  But when he got drunk, he got kind of rude.  Not mean spirited, it was just like every thought in his head would come out with no filter!  We’d all be talking in a group and out of nowhere (and in the middle of a random sentence someone else was saying) he would say “This is SO BORING!”  Yeah.  Rude.  The nail in the coffin came late that September.  The site of the relationship slaying?  Puylallup Fair.  Yes those grand flashing lights and big rides are now the resting grounds of my rebound relationship.  We were supposed to have another double date with our mutual friends, and they were heading down to the fair at 2PM.  I was heading down at 3 after my doctor's appointment.  He wanted me to drive all the way down there by myself, which I was pretty irritated by since he just had to wait an hour and he's the one who asked me to go.  But after he saw I was mad he agreed to wait and go down with me, big gulp in hand.  (note: the reason why I didn’t want to drive down by myself is that it can take two hours to get down there and I really didn’t want to sit in traffic for 2 hours by myself to do something that wasn’t even my idea.)  


So, on the way down there he starts asking me which holidays we’re going to spend with his family in Eastern Washington, and which holidays with my family.  I’m thinking to myself “you’re kidding right?  I have a one year old daughter and it's important to be with my family at this time.  I’m doing ALL holidays with my family, and we have only been a couple for about a week!”  He was being kind of rude again, you know with random thoughts that should really be kept to yourself, and half jokingly I asked him if he had been drinking, keeping in mind this is about 4PM.  He said “of course” and held up said big gulp.  "Of course" as if there was any other option, like I was silly for asking.  Ahhhhh…now it made sense!  Most of the time we had been hanging out, he was drinking!  And here I just thought he was a naturally thirsty individual.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around this fact when we park.  So we get to the fairgrounds and things are going…just ok.  I was a little irritated at the drunken state of my new boyfriend who was a little bit sloppy in the walking and talking department for this stage in the evening.  At one point while we were standing under the designated smoking area, he divulged some very personal and embarrassing information to a total stranger right in front of me!  Now I was starting to get pissed.  Here I was, stone cold sober while my drunk boyfriend stumbled around the fairgrounds telling perfect strangers about our “love life” and making a fool of himself.  This, ladies and gentlemen, is what I refer to as a huge RED FLAG.  


So, we leave the fairgrounds and he wants to go gamble.  No problem, I do enjoy a good casino from time to time myself so I was okay with it.  At the casino, however, he has to borrow money from his friend to gamble since the night before he had blown $300 (a minor detail he’d not previously shared with me).  So he promptly proceeds to squander the borrowed money as well putting him several hundred in the hole and sticking him with RED FLAG number two.  All of a sudden my very cute, very put together new boyfriend is looking neither cute nor put together.  The whole time we’re at the casino, he keeps shoving drinks in my face and telling me I should losen up and drink.  I kindly reminded him that I was driving his drunk ass around (I’m paraphrasing here) and I cannot partake of said alcoholic beverages as we are a good 45 minutes still from his place.  


Finally, we leave there too and go our separate ways from our friends.  We head back to his apartment and throw on a movie.  I was really irritated and wanted to go home but he begged me to just stay at his place and watch a movie.  So, I agreed.  While sitting on the couch I hear him banging and clanking things in the kitchen.  He drops a few pans and promptly says “I’ve got it!” fixes two drinks of straight whiskey and ice, and places one squarely in front of me.  As I sit there watching the condensation dripping down the front of the glass, I tell him I’m not drinking that night.  I wasn’t in a good mood and two drunk people arguing just didn’t sound like a great way to end the evening.  He keeps on insisting, at least four more times, and finally I just stop and look at him and say very firmly “I’m NOT drinking.”  He grabs the drink, heads to the kitchen and mutters under his breath “you don’t have to be a bitch”.  Ok, now that’s where I draw the line.  He’d been rude before, but never called me a bad name and I just could not handle that, drunk or not there's just no excuse for a guy acting that way.  So, not being a huge fan of yelling and screaming, I head over to my bag and start to gather my things. He sees me and tries to stop me, apologizing profusely and saying he didn’t mean that.  I tell him I’ll stay if we just go to sleep and we can discuss it in the morning.  He agrees and I think to myself, “Maybe I’ll just leave after he passes out.”  Again, note to my “back in time self”: no dice sister.  He wouldn’t go to sleep and kept wanting to talk about it and talk about it and I just wanted to leave.  He insisted repeatedly that I should just stay and drink with him.  I tell him that if he asks me to drink one more time I’m going to leave.  He reluctantly says “fine” and then stumbles off to the bathroom to change for sleep.  I think to myself, “why are you here?  This is so inappropriate, you should just go home.”  So, I did.  


While he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth I grabbed my already mostly packed bag of belongings and I headed out to my car.  I guess he heard the door close because as I reached my door to open it, he came running out into the cold September rain with no socks, no shoes, in fact no clothes of any kind whatsoever aside from a pair of boxer shorts.  I quickly threw my bag inside, hopped in and locked the door.   As I peeled away he was running after my car, arms waving wildly in the air and toothpaste still lining his mouth giving him the appearance of a rabid lumberjack.  I put the petal to the metal and drove away.  “Well” I thought to myself, “THAT’s a way to make an exit!” 


And that was the end of my 3.5 month rebound relationship.