I've always had a thing for men in uniform. Especially firemen. I know it's cliche, but what American woman hasn't had at least one fantasy about a fireman?
One Saturday night, out with friends at our clubhouse (a local bar we frequented), I met a real cutie. He was a two-stepping, wrangler-wearing, blue eyed hunk of adorableness. We danced most of the evening and I was pretty sure there were sparks getting ready to fly. And then I found out he was a fireman. Could it get any better than that?
Toward the end of the night, he asked for my number before heading off with his buddies. I blissfully gave him my digits and went home to wait by the phone. He called the next day, and we made plans to meet at a restaurant/bar the following weekend. He mentioned that he had recently broken up with someone, but I didn't think much of it. After all, I had dumped my last boyfriend about a month earlier.
The next weekend, I headed to the restaurant and met him in the lounge. It was a cool place with couches and tables, so we cozied up on a leather sofa and ordered drinks. We started chatting about life and work, and then the dreaded "exes" came up. It turns out he and his ex and broken up on Friday, the day before I met him. So when he said he was "recently" broken up, he really meant "recently!" I realized I was definitely in rebound territory. And then I decided that I was okay with that. He was awfully cute!
About an hour and a margarita later, a group of girls burst into the bar. My date's eyes went wide, and he went white. He forgot to mention that this was the bar that his ex liked to hang out at. She spotted him and glared, and then she saw me. Uh oh. She looked kinda pissed. Wait! I wasn't doing anything wrong. Then why was she glaring at me? I've never been a bar fight, and I don't know if I want to start now.
A few awkward minutes later, my date was still struggling to hold up his end of the conversation and kept glancing toward the back of the bar where the girls disappeared to. He said he had to go to the restroom, and got up. I'm not an idiot, I recognized the signs... this date was over. He was gone almost 10 minutes, and then finally shuffled back to where I have now finished my drink and am gathering my purse and coat. He did his best to look sincerely sorry that the evening was ruined. And I was going to give him a lot more credit than that until he looked at me and said, "I'm still in love with her," and walked back to the bar where she was waiting and grinning at me.
By the time I got out of the restaurant, I was good and ticked. Why would he bring me to this place? What is the point? I headed to the clubhouse to see if I could catch up with my friends. Once there, I grabbed a drink. Then I spotted his buddy from the weekend before. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was standing in front of him saying, "WTF is wrong with your friend? Why would he take a date to the same place his ex hangs out? Is he a moron?" I realize I should have been asking my date that question, but he was busy across town rekindling the flames.
Needless to say... I never heard from the fireman again. Maybe it's time to hang up that fantasy and move on to a different type of man in uniform. I've always wondered about handcuffs...
Indeed, he is a dork. And you would think you could trust a fireman.
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