The 300 Dates Of A Recently Single Woman

So as you know, I did a lot of dating.

We've talked about it before, there were spreadsheets involved. Color-coded chaos. At any given moment, I was talking to, like, 150 different guys across various platforms. That's not an exaggeration. That's just… Tuesday.

Each one of them thought they were a special little shining star in the galaxy of Me.

They weren't.

They were plankton in the dating ocean. Which, ironically, is why the dating site was called Plenty of Fish.

One guy, in particular, had made it all the way to question five in my sacred 10-part copy/paste series titled: So You Think You're Worth My Time. That's a big deal. Most get filtered out at question two ("Do you believe women deserve rights?")He passed with decent grammar and bonus points for wit. We'd been chatting for about two weeks. I was vaguely interested.

Now, unrelated, but actually very related, I also had a crush on our Pepsi vendor at work.

Don't judge me. He was hot. Like "sleeve tattoos and forearms that looked like he could carry emotional baggage and a vending cart" hot. My coworker and I both flirted with him shamelessly. Petty (you remember Petty) also threw herself at him like she was auditioning for Real Housewives: Grocery Aisle Edition.

So one day, I'm in the stockroom, minding my business, when Pepsi Man, hot and hydrated, blurts out: "The Sword in the Stone."

I blink. "Okay, crackhead… what?"

He says, "You asked me what my favorite Disney movie was."

I'm like, "No I didn't."

He laughs. "Yeah, you did. Last night. On Plenty of Fish."

At this point, I must've turned a new shade of existential regret.

"No we haven't," I say. Bold of me. Still doubling down like a moron with a shovel.

So he pulls out his phone and shows me my profile. Our full conversation. Two weeks' worth.

And it hits me: I had been flirting with the same man in-person and online for two separate timelines, without realizing he was the same person.

So yeah. Pepsi Guy and I had been talking for weeks, online and in-person, without me ever realizing they were the same person.

And I swear, I tried to explain. I stumbled over words, trying to tell him about face blindness. About how I don't always recognize people, especially out of context. How my brain just... skips the part where it connects "hot guy from aisle five" with "hot guy in my inbox."

I have face blindness. It's real. It's called prosopagnosia. I once reintroduced myself to someone I'd slept with. Twice.

But let's be real: I didn't handle it gracefully.

I was awkward. Embarrassed. Defensive, then apologetic, then rambling. Like a human malfunction happening in real-time.

He laughed, but not in a we're-going-to-joke-about-this-at-our-wedding kind of way. More in a "what the hell is wrong with you" kind of way.

He did not give me his number. He did block me on the app. And I was left standing there, surrounded by pallets of Pepsi and poor life choices.

I don't think he believed me. Honestly, I'm not sure I would've either.

But for what it's worth: Yes, face blindness is real. Yes, I really am that awkward. And yes, apparently I'm capable of dating someone accidentally.

Some people meet cute. I meet confused.

Welcome to my life.

｡☆✼★━ 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓸𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 ━★✼☆｡

Let's talk about Justice. Yes, that was his real name. Yes, it's ironic.

My store went through a golden age of hot Pepsi guys. Truly, an entire league of unnecessarily attractive beverage men. Justice was one of them. He'd been around for a few weeks before I worked up the courage to flirt. He laughed at my jokes, smiled like he meant it, and had that easygoing charm that made you forget to look for red flags. We started texting, and the tension at work? Electric.

Eventually, I got bold. I gave him my number. He started texting immediately. Flirty. Sweet. Seemed normal.

(And if you've been reading long enough, you know "seemed normal" is the death knell of any good story.)

He told me he was married but separated. Said he had his own apartment. Said he was getting divorced. Said he had one son with his wife and helped raise her four other kids. So, five in total. Showed me photos. Cute kid. Seemed like a decent dad.

And then, while I was out shopping with my mom and sisters an hour away, he texted me:

"Come see me."

"I'm home alone."

"I want you."

"Let's make it happen tonight."

Red flag. Immediate.

I said I wasn't in town. He doubled down. Got pushy. Told me he needed me. Said he was "alone."

Wait, alone? I thought you lived alone. That's when the story unraveled.

Turns out, he was still living with his wife. Not just living there, lying about it.

I called him out. Said I don't sleep with married men, especially ones who live with their wife and lie about it. He didn't take that well. The charming guy vanished. He started calling me names. Said I was a tease. Five minutes ago, I was "everything he wanted." Now I was "the reason good men cheat."The switch flipped so fast I could hear it snap.

Called and texted repeatedly. Threatened me, then apologized. Classic whiplash behavior straight out of the Narcissist Starter Pack.

So I blocked him.

Then he messaged me… from a different number. Her number.

Yep. His wife's phone.

I told him, again, I wasn't interested. That should've been the end.

It wasn't.

She started calling. I didn't recognize the number and answered. Huge mistake. She went off. Screaming. Accusing. Told me I was a home-wrecking little whore.

I apologized, once. Told her I didn't know he was married. Told her I wasn't involved anymore. But she wasn't interested in facts. She just wanted a villain. So I hung up.

And then came the texts. Fifty of them. Threats. Insults. "You ruined my family." As if I lied about being single. As if I created this mess.

This went on… for three months.

He messaged. She messaged. Her teenage kids messaged me. I became the family hobby. Apparently, the most interesting thing to happen to them all year was me refusing to sleep with a married man.

Years later, I found a hidden Facebook message from her daughter, still calling me names, still blaming me for their broken family. Said her mom was finally happy now.

And let me tell you, I was so tempted to reply:

"Is she still happy with that cheater?" But I didn't.

Because I'm a better person than that.

But hey, if I can cause that much family damage by not sleeping with someone, imagine what I could've done if I'd said yes.