Serial Dater

Nothing better than sitting in your garden relaxing with a glass of Merlot after a long day of digging and gardening. If the saying that goes what you put in is what you get out, then I am getting some beautiful roses, pretty damned gorgeous. My neighbours always ask why I choose to garden at night, my answer is always the same - “After a bad date I need to relax” - You can say I have had many bad dates. I guess what I am looking for is just too hard to find. Too damned hard I would say. My friends always say I am a serial dater and that I would find any reason not to have a second date, that I am the one that makes up all these faults on every man I meet. There is nothing wrong with being picky, absolutely nothing. I know what I want and how I want it. I am an independent woman, I own my own home, a beautiful home I might add, it could be considered a state. I also own my own business. I have worked so damned hard to get all that I always wanted, if a man is going to come into my life is to add to it, not to take away and to try and control me. I wake up when I want to wake up, I go to bed when I feel like going to be. I have been alone practically my whole life.

You see my father died when I was five, I have vague memories of him, but by what people tell me he was a great man and treated my mother right, not like all the other losers she was mixed up with after his death. It was one asshole after another. She was never really there, like she checked out after my father died, she did not care about anyone, not even me. My father left us well off but my mother spent it all on booze, drugs and men. When I was ten she met George, the biggest ashole of them all. He looked at me in such a dirty way that made me feel sick to my stomach. I tried telling my mother but she just said that I was jealous that she had met the perfect man.

George was very attractive for an older man, well he was about ten years younger than my mom, and she looked older than her age, alcohol and drugs will do that to you, but there was still a hint of the beautiful woman she once was. Everyone knew he did not love my mom, he was just after our money, well whatever money he thought we still had. It was almost all gone. My mother sold two of the vintage Mercedes, Dad’s favourites and that kept us going for the next 5 years. One day George came over to my room and said -”Your mother is dead, call the ambulance” - My mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer just a few months back, she never stopped smoking or drinking. I guess she wanted to die. After the funeral I did not want to go back home but George made me, him being my legal guardian now and all. When we got home he told me that this night was our first night together and to go up and come down ready for our first date.

I was not the same little girl he had met five years early, scared, confused and lonely. I had learned how to defend myself and I was not afraid of him. I knew what I was going to do, something I had planned many times but never had the guts to do it, but now it was different, I had to do it. I had no choice, there was no other way. So I guess I was forced to do this. I had to protect myself. I got all dressed up, did my make up and put red lipstick on. Until this day I only wear red lipstick on a first date. He had made the cook make us dinner and then sent him home. As I walked in he was serving two glasses of Merlot, the wine reminded me of the color of blood for some reason. The lights were dimmed and the smell of dust a dew on that all dining room filled my lungs. I can still smell it like it was today. I smiled and made him believe that it was all ok. I walked over from the other side of the table and sat on his lap, I took his cup of Merlot and drank from it, after I offered it to him. He took the cup with my hands still holding onto it. He tried to kiss me and I pretended to be shy and giggled, I turned away from him, broke the cup and slid his throat. I walked back to my chair and as I drank the wine I watched him bleed to death.

So you see, that was my very first date and I have only had first dates ever since. I never get to a second date. Just as a buried George in our garden I have buried all of my first dates in my garden and like I said before if the saying is true then I am getting some gorgeous roses this season because I just buried a six feet tall, two hundred and twenty pounds of gorgeous muscle with an ass to kill for.