Guess I Didn’t Make the Cut
I grew up in an athletic family and have always dated sports fans. In my household, Sundays are considered sacred because football is on. So I was glad when I matched with a fellow sports lover on bumble.
Gary told me he’d been a tri-athlete in high school and mega-fan ever since. He follows football, basketball, and baseball closely, but also likes soccer and gets super into the Olympics. I could relate. I’ve attended more professional sports games than I can count.
There are a lot of things I’m looking for in a man, but being able to watch sports together is a big one. What’s better than eating a hot dog and drinking a beer in the summertime at an MLB game? Maybe only tailgating in the parking lot before an NFL game. It’s not just about sports—I love the community and culture.
Also, sports fans are easy to shop for. A baseball hat, a bobble head, a bat or ball with a favorite player’s signature on it? When I’m in a relationship with a fellow sports fan, I know we’ll always have something fun to do together and my gifts will always be appreciated.
Some of my friends think it was a red flag that Gary and I went to a football game on our first date. I thought it was romantic. It meant he read my profile and we had things in common.
After we were in the stadium for 20 minutes or so and had settled down with some drinks, Gary went to the bathroom. He came back with his face painted, his shirt off, and his chest and stomach also painted. He had the paint palette in his hand, and wanted to paint my face, too.
I said no. Honestly, I like seeing enthusiastic fans do funny things, like paint their faces or even take their shirts off. But I hadn’t expected it from Gary and wish he’d given me a head’s up. I wanted to get to know him, but it seemed like every time I’d ask him a question about himself he’d stand up and scream.
We were on the Jumbotron more times than I could count. Of course, people would chant “KISS, KISS, KISS” when they saw us. When Gary went to kiss me, I didn’t want to reject him publicly and embarrass him, so I went with it. He had paint on his lips, too. It tasted bad and I could feel it on my face. I tried to wipe it off on napkins, but ended up ruining the sleeves of my coat.
If you’re like my friends, you’re probably thinking I ended things with Gary because of the face and chest paint, the screaming, and the gross kisses. I wish.
Instead, I decided to give him another chance. I figured I could adjust. I mean, I do love football! But when I asked him on a second date, he turned me down. Apparently the face paint was a test, and when I declined to let him put it on me, I failed.
The Choice is Yours
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