The One That was a Meth Dealer.

It was around July, if the memory serves correctly.  Even at six pm, it was balls hot.  I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup, for I had another online date that evening.  This guy was pretty attractive, and had a rather well designed profile.  I remember quite vividly that he was well versed, and had very few if any grammatical errors, and no horrendously misspelled words.

TMD was into nearly everything I liked, and I thought this was a good start to a possible relationship.  We’d been talking for weeks, back and forth on the dating site.  We’d exchanged phone numbers earlier that week, and all of his stories matched up.  Things were definitely looking quite nice, so when he asked if I wanted to accompany him to the art festival the town had set up, I gladly accepted.

I looked at the time, and realized I had just enough time to spritz a bit of perfume on, and head out the door.  After saying goodbye to my dog, I got into the car, and went to the predetermined rendezvous site.  We met at the festival, and wandered through the five or six booths the town had set up.

My first thoughts on seeing the man before me was,  “How much photoshop did he use to make his image appear normal.”  He was six foot tall, and nicely built, but his sandy blonde hair from his photo was no more.  He had stark white hair, white eyebrows, and the lightest, palest blue eyes I’d ever seen.  I my friends, was in the presence of an albino.  Well pseudo-albino.  His skin was pink, and the more we were outside the redder he became.

I shrugged it off, thinking to myself, I can deal with that.  I’m not shallow.  I’m really really not shallow.  So off we go to examine the art.

Just at the end of the walk was a really nice yogurt shop, and so we ducked inside to get a sundae.  There was music, live music, a guy was playing some hipster style “Mumford and Sons” type music.  It was quite pleasant.  The conversation was light and easy, and I thought wow, this guy is pretty great.

That’s when it happened.  As we sat at the tiny table for two, eating our personally handcrafted sundaes, he begins with the ‘past’.

“When I was younger, I married a great woman.  She had my two children, (Who he had not mentioned thus far) They are great kids, but I don’t get to see them that often.  We were in a financial bind, and no matter how many hours I worked, I couldn’t seem to pay the bills, so I became a chemist.”  (I wonder if my eye was twitching then as it does now, knowing what comes next.)  “I started to make and deal drugs.  I was raking it in, and although I had my normal business eventually the feds got wise to the fact I was putting in gobs of money in the bank, and wasn’t making near that much.”  He pauses and runs a hand through his colorless hair.  “I guess looking back I should have used numerous bank accounts, and that probably would have kept them off my back for longer, but it did not happen.  I was arrested, and thought for sure I’d be in jail til I was fifty.” (as he was only 38 at the time, I’d assume that didn’t happen.)

“I kept quiet, and when the police came in the unthinkable happened, they offered me a deal.  If I turned on each of my other dealers, and anyone else I knew that was in on it, they’d lower my sentence tremendously.  I jumped at the chance.  After only 6 years I was back out.  My wife and I tried to make it work after that, but we had changed too much, and she still wanted the cash from before.  I will never go back to prison.”

I sat there, my frozen yogurt, not so frozen anymore.  My mouth likely catching flies.  My mind raced with this new and very important information.  Why in the world had he not told me this before.  I suddenly felt unsafe, as if I knew nothing of anyone in the world.  And though I’d never wanted a stomach ache in my life, suddenly felt very relieved to know the stress of this situation had made my stomach tie up in knots.

He too noticed my obvious change in demeanor.  I would assume I’d turned as green as Oscar the Grouch, and I’m betting my temperament wasn’t much better.  I somehow managed to thank him for a wonderful date, and explain the yogurt was obviously not setting well with me.  I walked off to my car in a hurry, and left him still in the yogurt shop.

I made it home in record time, and as soon as I took a few calming breaths my stomach stopped lurching, I felt lucky to have passed this date and could look for someone better.  Unfortunately, even then my hopes of finding someone on a dating site was taking a severe nose dive.



TMD2 was never an actual date.  He told me rather up front about his past.  His profile was very well put together.  He owned his own construction company, and had 3 children that he had full custody of.  TMD2 was a nice guy, but he’d gotten arrested years before for meth/meth production.  I’m going to let you in on a secret, and as you’ve probably already figured out, that in itself is a black flag.   It’s the END of a possible relationship.

I spoke with him for a few more days, before sliding gracefully off his radar.


This bares the question:  Are there any good men out there?


Up next:  Peanut Butter Lover.

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