Oh, The Guy With The Gun

So many of you know that I was in a very long relationship.  At the end of this relationship, I actually felt a little excited to get back out into the dating world.  I mean, c'mon!  I'm older, wiser, significantly more confident about myself...this can only be fun, right?!  Right?!

As a female living in a very small place in a very small state with essentially only female and attached friend from residency, I turned to the vast interwebs to find these dates.  In short, I have been through numerous dating websites, all of which shall remain nameless to protect the guilty.

Some of you have heard this one.  Others haven't.  But to start this blog right, let's begin with the scariest of online dating stories!  AKA - The Guy With The Gun

GWTG and I found each other through the magic of the internet.  We chatted over multiple messages.  He was very complimentary, seemed nice, attractive in his photo.  He mentioned having been in the Navy and now was out, working over the border in PA.

We met at a local hangout, just for a drink.  We sat at the bar, and on a Tuesday night they were playing bingo (which trust me, is more fun than it sounds).
The bingo was fun, the drink was good, but GWTG could ONLY talk about himself, how cool he was in the Navy, and I'm pretty sure was breaking some kind of military code by telling me about his "top secret" operations.
For example - I have met a man who is PERSONALLY responsible for securing an Iraqi village and saving a US base.  Ya know, he had no help or anything.  Ooh...ahhh.

Color me unimpressed.

He continued to talk about how he now works for the FBI or some such, pulls out his badge (no, I don't know why he's wearing it on a date either) which I read and states he is a "fugitive recovery agent".

Think it through.

GWTG is a bounty hunter!
Despite my horror, he launches into multiple stories which place him in the dark, in a shady neighborhood, breaking down doors and going in to a bad guy's lair, guns a-blazing.
I successfully resisted the urge to call him Dog for the rest of the night.  I deserve a cookie for that.  We make it through a significantly awkward night and he walks me to my car.  We hug.

At that point I bumped a firm object at the small of his back.  I hope I was polite when I asked what it was...and this is why we are calling him GWTG.  I can't even make it up when I tell you he is carrying a concealed weapon!  Which he states he has at all times.  I guess now I understand the need for the badge.

Holy smokes.  Despite a future call, I will never see GWTG again.

But don't worry folks.  Internet dating has not beaten me with this story.  For your sake (and mine, why not) I will live to see another date.  Stay tuned for future misadventures!