I was recently talking to a girlfriend who was telling me it was a big turn-off that her long-term boyfriend is literally following hundreds (and counting) of sexy models on Instagram. While I wouldn’t like it either, we know that men are visual; so although his behavior might be a little juvenile, it’s not at all uncommon. Of course, my friend is not the only girl who has been perturbed by her boyfriend’s social media habits. Given the choice, any woman would prefer a man who makes her feel like she’s the only girl who exists in his eyes. I know, those are the men I always fall for. However, I can totally empathize with my friend because I was in a similar situation with a guy I very briefly dated early last summer.
Before I go any further, I should mention that I had a soft spot for this man I’m about to describe because I met him when I was only seventeen years old, brand new to town, all wide-eyed and innocent. In fact, he was one of the first men, if not the first man, I met when I moved to Los Angeles. Before I started my Freshman year in college, my mom had taken me shopping in a store that his family owned. As my mom and I were leaving, the young man, who was in his late-twenties at the time, followed me out of the store asking for my phone number. I had a long-distance boyfriend, so this guy and I were strictly friends back then. However, he did invite me and my Pepperdine girlfriends to Hollywood parties and sneak us into popular nightspots. He also sent me a beautiful dress when I went home to visit my family in Chicago that summer.
Eventually, the two of us lost touch, and many years passed before we reconnected. When I did see him again, the man hadn’t been untouched by time. Once a hip, slick party boy, he was now a middle-aged single dad with a little belly and quite a bit of gray in his beard, which was fine by me—I’ve been attracted to men with “Dad Bod,” long before “Dad Bod” was a thing.
The two of us were friends for several months before he actually asked me out on date. He seemed a little shy and socially awkward, which I found a bit endearing. He opened up to me about the fact that he hadn’t had a girlfriend in eight years, and it was too hard for him to date because he had full custody of his two teenage daughters. Hearing this should have made me head for the hills, but leave it to me to put a positive spin on things. I felt this was a good man who wasn’t like the typical L.A. guy who likes to play the field.
To this day, I’m honestly not sure what this man’s purpose in my life was, but I’ve always believed that there are no chance encounters, that every single person is put in your path for a reason. And the romantic in me thought it would be sweet if I actually ended up falling in love with a man I met that first year in college–long before Los Angeles corrupted me. I’m joking, I’m still that sweet Midwestern girl at heart.
When he kissed me for the first time, he said “I’ve waited years for this.” The timing was such that just days after our first date, he was scheduled to go to Portugal on a business trip then France to visit his family (Yes, another French guy). While he was away, he texted me that he couldn’t stand to be across the globe from me, and he was thinking about changing his plane ticket to come home earlier.
As it turned out, changing his ticket was going to be too expensive, so he stayed in Europe for the duration of his trip. He told me that he had taken some really cool pictures and was wondering if I had an Instagram account, which I did. So at that moment we started “following” each other. And that is when the all the romance came to a screeching halt.
For anyone not familiar with Instagram, there’s a feature that allows you to see which pictures the people you are following “like.” To my horror, this guy was liking pictures of butts, rows of butts, butt after butt, butts all day long with the occasional graffiti art picture. I’m not that judgmental—I mean, there are worse things a guy could do than like some butts online, but it didn’t seem very classy to me, especially when he knew that not only me, but his teenage daughters could also see the pictures he was liking. I know that as a teenager, and even now, if my dad were obsessively looking at pictures of butts on Instagram, I’d be more than a little creeped out.
One of my guy friends put it best when he said, “Liking pictures of beautiful women is one thing, every guy does that, but liking close-up shots of butts day after day–that guy sounds nasty, Amy.”
Nasty or not, I still liked him, and he was clearly a butt man. So I decided to work on my own. I usually avoid squats and any exercises that would make my legs or butt bigger. However, while I was seeing this guy, I took up squatting, and it paid off–he told me he loved my ass! In all fairness, he probably would have loved anybody’s ass. And one time when we were playing pool, I was bent over wearing my daisy dukes, and I caught him trying to sneakily take a picture up my shorts. It would have been nice for him to let me know so I could have at least posed for the photo.
The butts weren’t the only thing that bothered me. When we drove by a local strip club, he pointed out the club and seemed so childishly excited about simply driving by. I thought to myself, here’s a man who hasn’t had a girlfriend in eight years, and now he has a real live girl in his car, and he wants to brag about how much fun he’s had hanging out at the strip club? It’s not that I’m totally against strip-clubs, we’ve all ended up at one some point or another. However, this guy seemed to be lacking the type of sophistication I desired.
Of course, I didn’t mention anything, but later he brought up the strip club again while we were having dinner with another couple, adding that he took his ex-wife to one on their first date. I have to admit, a grown man getting so giddy about strippers was a major turn-off for me. I was starting to feel like this guy was not boyfriend material. So I asked my best guy friend what he thought. Was I being tough on the guy? Did I have overly-high expectations? My friend told me that he thought it’s a red flag for any man over the age of thirty to be a strip-club regular, but it’s not a total deal-breaker. He said to give the guy a chance and see how it plays out.
Shortly after, the guy I was seeing asked me to go away with him for the weekend. He had just bought a new jet-ski and wanted to take it to Laughlin. Now Laughlin is not anywhere I would have wanted to vacation, but the river is a good place to jet-ski (or at least it was before the California drought). Plus, I’m a girl who can have fun in a paper bag, especially if I’m with good company. The two of us had always had fun hanging out in LA, but the ride to Laughlin was a little strained. We didn’t have much to talk about on the five-hour drive, and he smoked pot the entire time, so we weren’t exactly on the same level. Although he told me he had made reservations at “the best restaurant in Laughlin” for the following night, we simply had a quick dinner at El Pollo Loco on the ride there.
On that first night, as he bought two drinks for us, the total came to a mere ten dollars. My date remarked that Laughlin is so much better than Vegas because the drinks are cheaper. I couldn’t believe he said that—definitely not a way to impress a girl. For anyone who hasn’t been to Laughlin, it’s similar to Vegas only in that it’s in the desert and you can gamble. However, everything is old and run down; the crowd is mostly retirees; and the hotels are definitely not as luxurious as the hotels in Vegas, at least not the ones I’ve stayed in. Although I didn’t share this man’s love of Laughlin, I did accept the invitation, thinking we would still have fun even if the locale wasn’t glamorous. What most people don’t know about me is that I’m actually very simple, I would choose true love over private jets and Dom Perignon any day.
The next morning we took the jet skis out on the river. My date complained a lot, and, quite frankly, was pretty grouchy, probably because we drank so much the night before. He continued to smoke pot the entire trip, which normally doesn’t bother me, but I believe it might have created a bit of a disconnect with me being all bright and cheery while my date was completely stoned. After a long day of drinking and playing in the sun, we stopped for lunch at Carl’s Jr. I can be affectionate after a few drinks, so as we waited for our order, I leaned in to give him a kiss. His reaction not only surprised me, but hurt me—in true fatherly fashion, he blurted out, “Calm down, Amy!”
REALLY? I mean, he should be so lucky that I even wanted to kiss him after taking me for a meal at a fast-food joint. Laughlin and Carl’s Jr. are not exactly aphrodisiacs.
Anyway, I’ve never had a man refuse a kiss from me, so my ego was more than a little bruised. The two of us went back to the hotel and took a nap. When I woke up, I saw the time. We had dinner reservations in half an hour at the “best restaurant in Laughlin,” but my date was sitting on the couch smoking pot, eating Nutter Butters, and watching National Geographic. I asked him if we were still going to dinner. He said, “I’m not hungry, are you?” To be honest, I wasn’t hungry, but it would have been nice to get out of the room and do something. Instead I rolled over and went to back to sleep knowing that this definitely was not the guy for me.
The next morning, we had breakfast at Denny’s, his choice of course, and hit the road. The ride home seemed especially tense and long–I couldn’t wait to get out of that car. To make matters worse, this trip kept making me think about my last boyfriend. My boyfriend before him had been long distance, and we travelled really well together. We never ran out of things to talk about, were always laughing hysterically, and each moment was nothing short of magic. So this trip to Laughlin not only made me miss that kind of connection, but made me realize that I wouldn’t settle for anything less.
When my date dropped me off at my apartment, he gave me a kiss, and told me he had so much fun. I didn’t really believe him until the next time he called me and said that he was thinking we should go to Laughlin again for Fourth of July, adding that we would talk about it later. I remember thinking to myself, he can go to Laughlin, I’m going to Nobu, Malibu!
I only saw him one more time after that trip—I honestly wasn’t impressed. This guy just wasn’t treating me the way I’m used to being treated, so I decided to send him a break-up text letting him know all the reasons why I no longer wanted to see him anymore. Although I left out the butts on Instagram, I did tell him that the guy for me wouldn’t be frequenting strip clubs and mentioned how he complained the whole time in Laughlin, among a few other things. I have since deleted the message, but when my girlfriend read it, she laughed so hard she cried (although I never intended it to be funny), suggesting that my next book should be a collection of my break-up letters–actually not a bad idea!
To my surprise, his response was really sweet. I almost felt bad for sending such an aggressive text. He told me that he really enjoyed our time together and that he didn’t realize he had been moody in Laughlin—he actually had a lot fun! Really? To put it in perspective, that was hands-down the single-worst trip I had ever taken with a man in my entire life. My mom sweetly said, “Well, everyone has their own levels of fun.”
I just want to mention that I do think this is a nice guy with a good heart; he simply wasn’t for me. A couple months ago, I received a random message from him on Instagram that he has a new girlfriend, and unfortunately his girlfriend has some trust issues. Actually, she was worried that he was still seeing me. It was kind of ridiculous to me that A.) he was contacting me about his relationship problems and B.) that she would think I would still want anything to do with the guy. However, I felt he wanted me to answer so he could show her my response saying that there was nothing going on between us. I’m pro-love, so I thought I would help the guy out and answered, “Why in the world would she think we were seeing each other? We haven’t spoken in almost a year.”
I was actually happy for him that he had a found someone—I had been worried that maybe he was destined to a life of lapdances and Instagram butts. I wonder if maybe the reason he was put in my path was so he could learn how to be better to the next girl who came along, the girl who was actually meant for him.
Yet, I could see how this girl could develop trust issues with a boyfriend who has a butt and strip club fetish, but hopefully that kind of behavior is behind him now. One thing is for certain, his girlfriend doesn’t have to worry about me, my butt is one butt that guy will definitely never see again ♥