My date was twice-divorced, a father of four, 44-years-old, and the guy who flaked on our dinner plans on Tuesday (the shame!). He is also a Las Vegas local, a self-professed professional poker player (aren’t we all?) and is looking for a girl to spoil.
Another online catch, we exchanged a few messages, then numbers. Via text message, he told me about his kids, ex-wives, and girlfriend.
That’s right, he already has a girlfriend—but is looking for another one.
No, not another one on the side—another one to join the fun in what he calls his “mini harem.”
Later, he told me how he and his second wife were swingers. It just got better and better!!
Obviously, I was and am not interested in any such arrangement … but I had to see what his deal was. Oh, the things I do in the name of “research.”
He called me on Sunday and we talked for about 40 minutes. He was articulate and smart, and honest about the situation. He has a girlfriend, but wants two of them—and wants them both to “worship” him—so I guess you could say he is currently holding open auditions for the second staring role.
While this proposition would send most girls running for the hills, I continued the dialogue out of sheer curiosity, and agreed to meet for a quick drink on Thursday night.
Well, as if his polygamy, two ex-wives, four kids, and lack of a real job weren’t enough, he took the liberty of telling me, within the first 10 minutes of our discussion, that he is currently being indicted by the federal government.
From his stool at the wine bar, he assured me that the indictment was no big deal. In fact, he had been through it before. That’s right—this is his second federal indictment. What a winner!
(As I said in my initial post about this date, “current criminal charges and/or lawsuits” should be added to the “what not to mention on a first date” list—politics, religion, exes and criminal activity.)
It got better, of course: As it turns out, the other girl is a dancer at the Spearmint Rhino. Awesome!
Clearly, the whole thing wasn’t going to go anywhere—and, for the record, I would never want to get anywhere close to him, physically, regardless of his repulsive desire for a live-in threesome (and the kids, ex-wives, criminal charges, and the fact that he called himself a staunch Republican); he was also bald, too skinny, poorly dressed, and showed his age.
Still, I was polite, drank my wine, and smiled sweetly as we chatted. And we actually did have good conversation. He’s a freak, that’s for sure—but he’s interesting and, from what I could tell, harmless. I could probably be friends with the guy… but lovers? Heeeeeeeeell no! (Read: So not my type. Also: She’s just not that into you.)
As he left, he told me I passed the test. “I want you to be the other girl,” he said.
Oooh, goodie. The creepy guy likes me!
I told him I wanted to meet her (and I do!), and that we’ll see how it goes.
He told me that he could tell I’m the kind of girl who can’t stand being anything less than #1, but that’s OK. “I don’t think she cares,” he said.
He’s probably right. She probably doesn’t.