No Officer, But I Wish I Did Have A Weapon In The Vehicle

Back in my second year of college at UAF, I made some bad choices.  This is common knowledge.  I skipped class so I could sleep all day, I worked a full time job and skipped class, and I felt that I was invincible, as many twenty year olds feel when they’re away from home.

Anyway, for a very short time I casually dated this guy named Derik.  We didn’t have a lot in common— we both liked Miyazaki movies, he was well traveled, he was an overall interesting guy and he treated me well.  He seemed stable and honest, and I really liked him.

One night, after we had been seeing each other for a few weeks, he starts messaging me on face book.  He tells me he’s really drunk and he would be so happy if I got him some Taco Bell.

Since I’m sober and it’s Saturday night, I decided I would be the good friend and sober his dumb ass up.

How sweet of me, right?

I walk downstairs to his dorm room and he opens the door and falls forward, almost slamming into the ground, but he caught himself on the wall.  I could smell the liquor on him from three feet away.  He put his arm around me and announced we should get Taco Bell.

The taco bell that was closest to UAF was about three miles, so not too far.  As we were driving though, I got a lot of insight as to what kind of person Derik really was.

“You and I would never work as a couple,” he told me, something that hurt me deeply because I did like him a lot.

“Why is that?” I asked him.

“You’re too uptight.  You have no goals in life, and you’re just really awkward and weird.”

I feel my foot push on the gas a little more.  “Oh really, what are your goals in life?” I asked him.

Without even skipping a beat, he said something to me that made me want to punch him in the face.  “My goal in life is to fuck bitches and get high.”

My foot started to push  more on the gas. “Fuck bitches and get high?  How high are you right now?”

“I had two hits from a roach clip right before you picked me up.  But seriously though, you’re just too uptight and trying to take the fun out of fucking everything.  It’s so damn annoying.  Go smoke some pot and calm your ass down.”

The petal was to the metal at that point, we were going at least twenty over in this area.

“You listen here asshole,” I started to say, getting angrier as I spoke.  “I don’t want to be living on the streets with addiction and I don’t want to be living off of my parents for ever, so you can just shut your mouth.”

I’ve never been good with comebacks.  He started to gnaw at me more, saying more hurtful things… Until the cop car behind us turned on his lights.

I was so livid at Derik that I didn’t even care.  I pulled over, and Derik, who had been drinking and doing drugs that evening, paled as the cop came to the car.

Well hello...

Well hello…

“License and registration,” the cop asked.  I started to reach for my registration when the cop spoke again.  “Do you have any weapons in the car?”

“I fucking wish,” I said angrily, practically throwing the items at the cop.

This cop knew me.  I made his lunch every day.  He had a spark of recognition when he saw my license and my angry face.

He gave me a look, and I cleared my throat.  “Uh, no, I don’t sir.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked me.  I point to the asshole next to me.

“This asshole is really pissing me off.”

You should have heard the squeak that came from Derik.  His eyes were the size of plates, his face was ghastly white, and he was still.

“Is there going to be a chance of domestic violence?” the cop asked me.

“No sir, I’ll kick his ass before he can get his fists up,” I told the cop.  Derik looked at me, thinking I was serious.

The cop gave me back my license and registration.  “Just slow down, okay?  And calm down.”

The cop went back to his car and drove off.

Derik let out a sigh of relief.

“I take it back, you’re a fucking god.”

The next day, he couldn’t remember what happened so he messaged me asking me if I wanted to come over.  I told him what happened and that I had no desire to see him again.  He apologized profusely, saying he didn’t mean it and didn’t remember any of it.  He admitted that he was blacked out drunk, but those words cut me pretty deep.

To say the least, we weren’t really seeing each other anymore.  But I wish him well.

Have you ever met someone and found out some nasty stuff about them?  Ever had a crush on someone and they were nothing like you thought they were?  Ever tell a cop you wish you had a weapon?  Let me know in the comments!

When Going On A Date, Always Bring A Knife

I’ve been confined to my house in recent weeks so I’m running a little low on stories, but fear not, I have an unlimited supply of weird stories of when I was a young college student at the University Of Alaska Fairbanks.

Best. School. Ever.

Best. School. Ever.

Shortly after I dropped out, I joined a couple of dating sites.  I was rooming with an army guy and a girl who I knew from the dorms in a tiny little apartment in the hills just outside Fairbanks.  They were the Yak Estates, for anyone who knows Fairbanks.  My male roommate was a total jerk, but the female roommate was one of the best roommates I’ve ever had.  And I miss living with her quite a bit.

Anyway, the three of us would have a lot of good times drinking, throwing parties, watching movies, all that jazz.  I had a lot of good times in that apartment.

Shortly after I moved in there, my roommate suggested I join a dating site so I can get out and meet people, since I was really  never leaving the apartment after I got off my 8 hour shifts at the deli.  I shrugged, figuring why not, and joined a dating site.

While exploring the dating sites, there was one person that stood out to me, but not for the reasons you’d think.  I’m very big on gay rights, and I’m very supportive for people following their passions, no matter what it is.  Alaska isn’t conservative, so to speak, but they’re extremely libertarian and bordering on anarchist.  People mostly just want to be left alone to do their own thing, but the whole gay rights thing was a little behind the times because it just wasn’t something you’d typically talk about.  At all.

Not a popular topic up north

Not a popular topic up north

The person I found was a man who was working on becoming a woman.  When I met her, she was still a man and had just started looking into the surgery, would wear minimal make up, and was a martial arts instructor.  I messaged her, telling her that I was just blown away that she was announcing her plans to turn into a woman and I fully admired her decision.  I even asked if she wanted to get coffee because I was eager to talk to someone who was passionate about gay rights like I was.  She agreed, and we met at a coffee shop.

I was ordering coffee when she came in, and she was dressed like a lumber jack.  What I wasn’t expecting, was that she was two inches shorter than me and maybe 140 pounds.  But I figured since I’m an Amazonian in stature and Midwestern, I was going to have a hard time meeting anyone taller or bigger than me.  We got coffee and talked for a few hours.  She was really interesting, worked in a mental hospital, very well-rehearsed on Buddhist and Taoism, so we talked mostly about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  We exchanged numbers, I gave her a hug, and we parted ways.

A couple days later, she asked me to go out again.  I didn’t think anything of it, and she said she wanted to get to know me.  On our first encounter, I told her that I would never date her, but I would love to be friends.

We decided to drive around the outskirts of Fairbanks, because we both felt that car rides are the best way to get to know someone.  About an hour into the driving around, she turned to me and asked me why I didn’t want to date her.

“Well, no offense, but I’d break you in half,” I told her honestly.  I was more than double her weight.  She laughed.

“My ex fiancé was over 250 pounds, I’ve always preferred heavier women.”

I was a little confused.  “So, you like women?”

She nodded.  “Just because I want to be a woman doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to them.  I dated a few men and they’re fine for sex, but I could only ever love a woman.”

This made sense to me, and we continued to talk, me still thinking that I’d break this poor person in half.  We get to the top of a hill, about five miles from the nearest house, and she pulls the truck over and cuts the gas.

“Alright, there’s where I’m going to bury your body.”  She pointed to the ditch where a large field of wildflowers and rosehips grew.  I first thought of how pretty the flowers were, then the words sunk in a little bit.

We both laugh, then I turn around and see the shovel in the back of his truck.

OH SWEET JESUS I'M GOING TO DIE

OH SWEET JESUS I’M GOING TO DIE

All the blood leaves my face, and she didn’t break eye contact.

A few minutes pass, then she turns the truck on again.  “I’m just fucking with you.  I’ve always wanted to do that to someone.”

Relief washed over me and we went to Denny’s to talk more.  She was really nice, and after hanging out a few more times, I started to date someone else and I never heard from her again.

A few months after that incident, I started working on base and met Alex.  So I guess everything happens for a reason.

So that’s how someone half my size nearly murdered me in the Alaskan wilderness.

So, tell me, what are your thoughts? What weird, over the top dating experiences have you had? Anyone pull a prank on you while on a date early on? Let me know in the comments!

How I Found Out I Was Dating My True Love (I Had To Wet The Bed)

For those of you who don’t know, I knew Alex almost three months when we got married.  I have heard so many people tell us that it would never last because we hardly knew each other, and I had a lot of people making bets on when I was due because they were certain I was pregnant.

It’s been nearly three years since we got married, and I have not given birth.  So those of you who made bets on my due date, pay up, because I didn’t have a baby.  Nor was I pregnant when I got married.

I do have to say this for sure though: I knew that no matter what happened, we could work through it.  Unless it was cheating, then he could go jump off a bridge.

But he’s never cheated, and neither have I.  So any problem we can work through.

The reason I can say that though, is because of what happened about two and a half weeks after we started dating.

At that point I was basically living in his dorm room on base.  From our second date on, we were never apart .  He would come to my work and borrow my car (he had no vehicle at the time since he had just gotten stationed in Alaska), he would buy my groceries since he found out that I was living off of Ramen and Chili (sometimes I’d cook a roast in my crock pot if the meat was on sale, or cook something else for my roommates since I loved to experiment), and then he’d fill my gas tank since I would fill my tank every few days, then he’d pick me up from work and I’d spend the night at his dorm.  It was a great set up.

After dating for a couple weeks, I got a bladder infection.  It was painful and if you are unaware of how bladder infections work, you sometimes have issues controlling your bladder.

Never, since I was about four years old, had I wet the bed.

Since Murphey’s law states that anything can happen whenever you don’t want it to happen, such as I didn’t want to wet the bed when I was falling head over heels with the potential father of my future children because he’d probably think “Oh hell no, I am not staying with a girl who is going to pee on me whenever she gets the chance.”

So of course I wet the bed.

And of course it wasn’t a little.  Oh no, Murphey’s law had to ensure that I drank close to a gallon of water the night before and peed enough to fill a gorge.

I'm pretty sure I was dreaming about this when it happened

I’m pretty sure I was dreaming about this when it happened

And it had to be when I was laying sandwiched between the wall and Alex on a full size bed.

And Alex had his arms wrapped around me in a death grip.

And I think I peed on him a little.

As you can imagine, I was in a state of horror.

This was basically my face

This was basically my face

Since it was around 6 in the morning, I figured he’d be too tired to wake up to my sneaking off to the bathroom to clean up a little bit.  So I’m then in the bathroom, coming up with a plan.

After about ten minutes, I decided that I’d roll him out of bed, covering up the spot, tell him that I got my period and bled on his sheets and I needed him to take my car to the shoppette to get me tampons while I threw his sheets in the washer and removed any traces of my having wet the bed.

I was pretty proud of myself considering how complex this plan was.

So I walked out of the bathroom, my head held high, ready to execute my brilliant plan.

When I walk into the bedroom, he had already finished stripping the sheets off the bed and put them in the clothes basket.

I felt my cheeks turn red, and my eyes tear up from embarrassment.  He didn’t say anything.  I took the basket and put the clothes in the washer, trying to hide my tears.

I get back to the room and he has the window open and has used half a bottle of febreeze.

“See?  Nothing’s wrong.  Everything is fixed.  Nothing happened.”

Except that I’m highly allergic to febreeze, so my wind pipe started to close up.

“There! I fixed it!  Nothing happened!  We’re good!” he tells me, to which I’m trying to get the few words out that I can.  I think he thought I was going to burst into tears from embarrassment.  The next words I spoke completely caught him off guard.

“I’m deathly allergic to febreeze!”

His face pales, he shoves me out of the room, giving me my shoes and socks and he finishes getting dressed.  He meets me in the hallway of his dorm room.

“So uh, lets go get some breakfast.”

It was true love.

He didn’t give me any grief.

He told no one.

And most of all, he didn’t dump me over it.

I knew from that moment on, I was going to marry him.

All because my bladder is an asshole.

So have any of you had an experience where you were sure that your boyfriend or girlfriend was going to dump you and nothing came of it?  Or something so embarrassing that it took you three years to be able to tell anyone?

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