Dating in Alaska has not been easy for me. Honestly, more a comedy of some pretty horrific, but quite humorous, first dates. Of course hearing me tell these stories elicits a lot of laughter from my friends as well as a few cringes. I’m kinda curious to see if I can pull off the storytelling in my writing… so here is Dating Disaster Stories from Alaska.
Last year at this time I was dating a man who lived in my other favorite city, San Francisco. We broke up last summer while I as in Alaska. It threw me for a loop as I had full intentions of going back to SF after six weeks in Alaska to be with him. The break-up was one of the reasons I decided to stay in Alaska for the rest of the summer – I wasn’t ready to face San Francisco just yet. I then had a typical rebound relationship and started dating The Marine and was with him throughout the Fall… he forgot to mention though that he was still dating others. Sigh.
In December I met and went on a few dates with The Friend. He was awesome – we went hiking, beer tasting, and hung out with my friends a few times. He was (and still is) there whenever I need him. We went on a lot of what I thought were dates, but apparently, he didn’t view them as that. When I came back from my big trip in January I asked him about us. Because at this point, we hadn’t even kissed. He was honest with me… he wasn’t attracted to me. At all. In his words – I was kinda cute, but not pretty or beautiful at all. He loved hanging out with me because I was one of the most intelligent women he had ever met. Oh, and I made him laugh, a lot. So, there’s that.
I was a little disconcerted about the not being cute or attractive comment at first, but we talked more about it and I was grateful for the honesty. I was always firmly in the Friend Zone, but I just didn’t know it. Sigh.
Beer tasting on a date or with friends – twist my arm!
The Red Flag Guy.
Bring on The Red Flag Guy. Soooo many red flags and yet I still went a date with him. In Alaska there is this place called The Slope where people, but mostly men, work in the oil field. It is north near the Arctic Circle. They work typically either two weeks on and two weeks off, or 3 and 3 or 4 and 4. I started messaging Red Flag Guy online and we quickly started talking an hour each night on the phone while he was on the slope. A guy who talks on the phone? Say it isn’t so!
I went down to Kenai for the Frozen Riverfest. It was so crazy cold there I had a hard time handling it. I even borrowed a guy’s beaver gloves (let the jokes ensue!). Texting someone while I was working was not at the top of my priority list. Well, he got a bit pissed that I was ignoring him. Then, he had the audacity to ask me if I was going to go and hang out with the brewers that night and if it was my choice. This is where I set him straight. Everything I do in my life is my choice. So yes, I was choosing to go and spend time with people I like talking to, especially when the topic is beer! Red Flag #1.
Who can text with Beaver mittens on while drinking a beer? Not me!
He came off the slope and I agreed to go on a date with him. I still don’t know why. We went to a nice restaurant and ran into a chef friend of mine who was there with his wife and child. Red Flag Guy was jealous that I was saying hello to my friend! Seriously, he was pissed that I was talking to a man. Red Flag #2.
At the end of the date he said to me – I’m not going to wear a condom. Ever. – Um, wait. What? Thank you for clarifying that… and don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Next! Red Flag #3. Sigh.
The Fur Rondy Guy
About a week after The Red Flag Guy the Fur Rondy Guy started messaging me. He knew a lot about blogging and platforms, understood my online world in a way that no one in AK had been able to. We texted quite a bit for two weeks. We talked tech, craft beer, workouts we were doing, and our crazy busy schedules that were the result of the Iditarod and Fur Rondy (huge annual fur festival in Anchorage). I was really excited to meet him. And then I did.
Modeling a few of the hats found at Fur Rondy
We were both Press covering the Fur Rondy events. That night was the annual ball and Fur Rondy Beard contest. I thought I looked pretty cute for the event. We talked for a few minutes and then he made an excuse that he needed to leave. The next part is painful to admit… he said that I looked bigger than in my pictures and he thought I would be more fit. Ouch. He was right, but it still hurt to hear that someone thinks you are amazing, but that you aren’t dateable because of how much you weigh. Sigh.
I wrote this post a couple weeks later and I am working on getting back to where I was just a year ago.
The Lunch Date Guy.
I started talking to another guy, this time from Tinder (I know, I know). He was my age, loved to go hiking, and enjoyed traveling. We talked daily for two weeks before we decided to meet (see a pattern here?). He lived up in The Valley, which is about 45 minutes north of Anchorage. He was coming to town on Monday and asked if I wanted to go to lunch at his favorite place at 11:00am.
Good conversation, not my ideal intellectual type, but enough good qualities that I would go on a second date just to see. I texted him after our date to say thank you and that I had a nice time. I asked if he would like to get together later in the week. He said no and that he wasn’t interested in me. Perplexed, I asked why.
He said because I didn’t follow him back to his truck and give him a blowie or have sex with him. Wait. On a first date? A lunch date no less? On a Monday? He said that the girls in The Valley would have put out on a first date and that I must be a prude because I didn’t. Or, maybe that I have pride and standards… maybe? Sigh.
The Over Drinker Guy.
I was pretty gun shy after these last few winners and was going online to deactivate my account. A message came through from a guy in his mid-40s who was a homebrewer and worked on the slope. Uh oh, another sloper. We talked though and this guy was smart, had a lot of depth, and I thought, well… maybe. We texted for two weeks and decided to meet when he came off of the slope.
We met at a nice restaurant in downtown Anchorage around 5pm on a Thursday. He was totally my type and we got along really, really well. The bill came and I casually looked down at it and saw there were 9 beers charged on it! NINE. I had only 2! Hmmmm…. he drank 7 beers??
About an hour later I received my first call from him. He was so drunk I could barely understand what he was saying. I did make out though that he loved me and wanted me to move in with him the next day. Sweet! Um, no. But first could I drive him to his car that was broken down in The Valley. What the what??
I didn’t answer the next four phone calls or fourteen text messages that came in that night. I cringed every time my phone buzzed. I was fully expecting a full-on apology first thing in the morning. He texted me like nothing was wrong. I then asked him if he drank like that all the time. He said not all the time, only 2-3 times a week when he was off the slope. 0-0. Um, no. I work in the beer world and can not handle being with a man who misuses alcohol in any sense. Sigh.
So there you have the
best worst date stories I have had in Alaska. Each and every one of them said that I was intimidating to them in some fashion. What, am I an ogre or something? Until Alaska, I hadn’t online dated in years. YEARS. Now I remember why. When you don’t work around people and are new to town it is hard to meet people offline. I just don’t think online dating works for me. I’m a different kind of woman and I honestly have no idea how to meet quality men or date anymore.
So I guess I won’t. I mean, how hard is it to find someone who loves the outdoors, wants to go hiking, camping, and fishing, knows what the Internet is and what a blog is (don’t even ask), and likes good, not shitty, craft beer? If you know this man, please give him my number. 😉 Until then, wait for the next post in I guess, my new series… Dating Disasters in Alaska.