Mancation: Red flags reflection

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What would I tell my 18-year-old self now that I’m 36?

Left:18-yea old Jaimie; right: 36-year old Jaimie (Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
Left:18-year-old Jaimie; right: 36-year old Jaimie
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)

“Stop making bad choices, Dumbass!  When you meet Failure Frank and Loser Larry – RUN!”

Unfortunately, I still don’t take my own advice. I recently met a statuesque sexpot covered in tattoos… who had stopped shooting heroin and snorting cocaine six days earlier. Congrats! That makes him date-able, right?

The next day I ran into him again and congratulated him on being seven days sober … But he said he had a hard night and backpedaled to day 1 … Congrats?

“Hello Red Flag, my name’s Jaimie.”

Most girls spot a red flag and run the other way. But not this girl! He was just so good looking … before I realized what I was doing (mesmerized by his utter sexiness) we exchanged phone numbers. What was I thinking?  #sorrymom

But, it got me thinking about my past. Have I always chosen Deadbeat Donald over Perfect Paul?

Let’s be realistic; there isn’t enough room in this blog to dissect every relationship I’ve had, so I contacted a few old lovers and friends seeking guidance in my quest for Prince Charming.

Doctor Empty (Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
Doctor Empty
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)

Doctor Empty  (We dated for approximately 6 years and broke up around seven years ago. He lives in Los Angeles and dates a really hot chick.):

Me:  “Why did we break up?”

Doctor Empty: “You told me you liked to think of ways to hurt me while I was sleeping.”

Me:  “Oh come on! That stuff was all in good fun!”

Doctor Empty: “We broke up because we didn’t like any of the same things.”

Me: “True.  But why do all my other relationships fail?”

Doctor Empty:  “Because you only date cheating narcissistic morons.”

Me:  “Duh.  I know that, but why doesn’t it ever work out?”

Mister Magical Muchacho  (We’ve been great friends for many years; he lives in Los Angeles and is married to a really hot chick.):

Me:  “Why aren’t I married?”

MMM: “Because you are free like a bird.”

Me:  “That’s lame.  I’m serious.”

MMM:  “Because you choose to date the wrong guys.”

Me: “I’m seeing a pattern.”

The blonde friend and author with some random guy. (Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
The blonde friend and author with some random guy.
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)

Random Guy  (Some hot guy I saw walking down the street.):

Me:  “Hi, would you date me?”

Random Guy: “For sure!”

Me: “Why”

Random Guy: “Because you’re hot!”

Me: “Ok Thanks. Just wondering.”

Needing more information, I decided to ask a few girlfriends.

The Brunette (currently single):

Me: “Where do I find a decent guy?”

The Brunette: “If I had the answer to that I wouldn’t be single.”

Me: “Good point.”

The Blonde (happily married):

Me: “Why can’t I find an amazing guy?”

The Blonde: “You’re looking too hard. Go do your traveling … See where your heart falls. The second you stop looking is the second you’ll meet the right guy!”

Me: “Yeah… That’s how I met Chesty.”

Hello Red Flag! (Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)
Hello Red Flag!
(Photo provided by Jaimie Beebe)

The Blonde: “And you have really bad taste in men.”

Consolidating the advice from my past lovers, friends, and a random guy I met, I’ve determined that although I’m beyond beautiful I’m a horrible judge of character.

From now on, no more second chances. As soon as I find out they are married, have a girlfriend, are on drugs, unemployed, or hate dogs – I’m out the door. No second dates, no extra texts, and no kiss goodnight.

And the Blonde gave me another great idea — Girls weekend in Cabo?