Toward the end of July, just a couple of months into our relationship, Cousin Dale died. Dirty BJ was heartbroken. He and Dale had grown up together and were more like brothers than cousins. Dirty BJ had his own bedroom at their house, because he spent so much time with Dale and his family. They had small children, including “Little Dale”.

Dirty BJ was gone with my Jeep, I believe to work or out to help his dad on the ranch, when he received the call and went straight to Dale’s house. They have some land with a little farm down in Dripping Springs. Little Dale wanted to grow up to be a rancher and loved feeding the animals. Dale had been working in the barn when he died of heatstroke. The kids found him. They were understandably distraught.

Dirty BJ was the person his family came to. He liked taking care of everyone. With no family (wife and children) of his own, he took care of everyone. The kids wouldn’t sleep if he wasn’t there. Soon, family was coming in for the funeral that he needed to pick up from the airport. All of this was happening on the other side of Austin, so to be helpful I told him not to worry about bringing me my Jeep. “Focus on your family. I’ll rent a car for the week.” He was so worried about trying to take care of everything and me, that I had to stop him. He needed to focus. He was carrying the weight of his family on his shoulders and this was something that I could do to lighten the load.

He sent pictures of the family together at the ranch, waiting on him to cook the brisket. Gave me play by plays on what was going on and how he was feeling. He didn’t want me to worry about him and seemed to enjoy opening up about the need to be there for his cousins, since Dale was always a part of their outings and bar hopping. It was tough for them. It was tough for Dirty BJ, needing to keep his emotions together for them.

I met this sweet, funny, shy boy we now refer to as Dirty BJ on Tinder. I say boy, because he is seven years younger than me, but he seemed like a mature man, who had a plan for his life. He owned a food truck that mostly did catering, was starting a new job in HVAC, and ran the kitchen in a bar about a half an hour down the road from my house. He dreamt of opening up a restaurant in Hill Country and was working his ass off to make that happen. He preferred the country to the city. Loved TX country. Loved all things TX, except maybe for Austin itself. We could chat forever. He was sweet. A little bashful. Close with his family. Genuine. He didn’t try to talk himself up. There were no lies. He didn’t try to sell himself. And we clicked…

Now normally when dating on Tinder, I would chat with the boys for a few days on the app, do a quick background check on Whitepages Premium, and then move to phone conversations before determining if we might enjoy a date. This was an inexpensive quick look into whether the name was the same, there was any criminal activity, or any immediate red flags. Additionally, I never used their real names. They hadn’t earned them yet. We referred to them as The Kid, Boat Boy, Roughneck, Builder Dude, etc. Just like seeing each other a few times before you let them see where you live, it helps you to detach a bit. They haven’t earned that spot in your life yet that is worthy of a name.

Now, if you don’t know, Tinder provides you with a location of not only potential matches when you are swiping, but of matched people, once both have swiped right.

“* is 28 miles away”

“* is 15 miles away”

“* is less than a mile away”

I was at a local bar with a couple of girlfriends. Dirty BJ and I were chatting on Tinder. We were all chatting with boys on Tinder, swiping, giggling, acting like teenage girls, in our 40’s with beer. Then I noticed he was getting close. “Headed to the bar to get a drink after work”. I questioned why he was coming into the town I was in and he replied that he just wanted a change, and he liked the bars in this little town.

Now, Urban sprawl had not yet hit this area of Austin. There were no other bars within a few miles. So, I warned him. “I’m here with my girlfriends. Not that you can’t come here, but…” He decided to stop at another bar on the other side of town first, to have a beer, before coming in his dirty work clothes.

I wasn’t planning on meeting anyone that night. That’s my local bar. I go with hardly any makeup (just enough to keep small children from crying), I think I was wearing a baseball cap and shorts. I NEVER wore shorts. But I thought, what the hell. What’s the worst that could happen? We don’t like each other. Boy was I wrong…

After awhile, he came in (my friend was watching the door like a hawk) walked right past us and sat at the bar with his back to us. The girls got in a tizzy. I said to give him some time, he needs to get a drink. Maybe he’s nervous. After awhile I messaged, “Did you really walk right past me and go sit at the bar?” He replied, “I needed a little courage for this. Your pictures do not do you justice.” Awww… side note, I had just lost 45 pounds after my divorce. It’s amazing what not being depressed anymore does to your need to stuff your face all of the time. And the pictures were all pre-weight loss. I don’t take a lot of pics, so I wasn’t updating my profile everyday like some do.

Eventually, B got tired of waiting and yelled, “DIRTY BJ!” across the room. I felt so sorry for him. I had warned him, but still felt sorry for him. He came over, it was a little awkward at first. He was shy. I was shy. I had only been on a few dates. Never was a dater before. This was all new to me. I was alone for a year and a half to work on myself after my husband left (but that’s another f*cked up story), dated a couple of guys for a couple of weeks. I was just enjoying it. No expectations. But, I also told myself I would not punish the new guy for the sins of my ex. I wouldn’t say “NO!” if I found happiness.

We had a great night sitting and talking. Found out we had some mutual acquaintances in common. His Jeep was in the shop getting built. I figured he was a manchild (we’ll talk more about that later) who was able to blow a little money on his hobbies. I was a little jealous, because I’m always so responsible with my money, keeping savings, eating my leftovers, etc. Frugal, but not rigid. I totally drive a Jeep Wrangler which does not get 30 miles to the gallon, occasionally see something that catches my eye, but I walk away and come back if I truly want to buy something.

My friends left, we stayed and talked for a couple of hours, and eventually decided to call it a night. Initially, I wasn’t so sure. I kept asking the girls if they really thought he was cute. There are a couple of things that are normally deal breakers for me, but for some reason I began overlooking them. I NEVER overlooked one of them, and I just did with him. Was a non-issue. I no longer saw anything physically wrong with him, because when he smiled at me. He smiled with his eyes and that was all that I saw. It was a great night that went from “a drink with my friends” to two people clicking. He walked me out, we kissed, I saw him walk to his old ranch truck. It didn’t matter how much he made. He appeared to have a good work ethic and that means more to me than the size of your paycheck. I say that, because I truly think you can see what kind of person someone is, by their work ethic. Do they work hard to do what’s best for their team? Or do they micromanage and complain, while trying to do the minimum amount of work? Dirty BJ was a hands on hard worker that I respected. Everyone working with him at the time appeared to respect him as well. They were friends. Most of my friends were met in the workplace.

We had exchanged numbers, so I was able to do the background check. There were a couple of criminal records from 2001’s for small misdemeanors. Not a biggie. Everyone makes mistakes. And, they appeared to be duplicates (these background checks aren’t verified well and are only as good as the data provided), he told the story. Not a big deal. And I believed them. May have been true. May have been a story. From that long ago, I’ll likely never know. There wasn’t anything recent, other than a speeding ticket. No red flags. Had lived at the same residence for 10 years. All seemed on the up and up.

A couple of days later, I met him at his bar after he closed the kitchen. His farm truck had broken down, so I went out of my way to give him a ride home. We sat out front of the house he had been at for 10 years. His roomate was asleep, so we didn’t want to bother him. We talked. We kissed. It was sweet.

The next day, he came to my house. Driving a U-Haul. He had to go to Dallas for his dad to pick up some things he had purchased in an auction. His dad couldn’t make it, and he was routinely running errands for his dad and helping him out. I would do the same for my dad. No red flags.

When he came back through, he wound up staying the night again. His truck was still down, so I helped him out by picking him up at U-haul. He stayed the night. I drove him to work the next day. We did this a few days while he was figuring out what to do about the old truck. So, I offered to let him just take my Jeep to work, since I worked from home and didn’t need it. Flags should have started popping up at this point. He only had a couple of changes of clothes and never had time to go by his place to get more. I was doing his laundry every day. For over a month, he took my Jeep every day. Stopped asking my permission. Just assumed every day it would be OK. When I began complaining, as it was summer and they were working VERY late, he promised he was looking into getting a new car. We were having such a good time together, that I let it slide…

According to the Urban Dictionary, a Hoboyfriend is a man that can’t take care of himself so he shacks up with a woman and sponges off of her.

I took my mother to the UK on vacation years ago. We were sitting in this little bar in this little town in Scotland. Quiet. Didn’t see much of anyone around. Just a few tourists walking through town. My mother said, “it’s like they rang the dinner bell and they all came running!” Apparently there is a family curse to attract the drunkest man in town and that certainly was the case that day. Including this crazy Aussie who was working in town. Coyote. Drunk as a skunk. Asking my mom if I could marry him.

I now think that family curse has evolved, much like the evolution of wisdom teeth. I don’t have any. Never needed surgery for removal. Evolution. Humans don’t need them anymore. This curse, while holding true to the drunkest man in town, now includes what I believe are narcissists (usually covert, but there have been some overt narcissists) and sociopaths. I’m not labeling any one a specific type, but I’ve got a strong inkling with some of the men I’ve dated and married.

I realize I’m codependent. I own that. I want to help people who I care about. I’ve received the phone call from my best friend that my vacation (her wedding) was canceled and she had no place to live. “Go to my neighbor Billy. He’ll give you a key. I’ll see you when I get home”, and then she stayed with me for a few months while she got back on her feet. No questions asked. I’ve always done this. I had a female friend when I was younger who had a similar issue. “All I can give you is the couch, but stay as long as you need”. One night her boyfriend was robbing us as she sat on the couch. Thank goodness my roommate’s boyfriend was a light sleeper! I had been warned about her, but she was always nice to me. I didn’t see the bad things people said about her. She had good intentions, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt.

What I’m saying is, it’s not just men and those that I date that I always look past the bad to see the good. I do this with everyone. My best friend says that’s my most endearing quality. I open up my life, my home, to everyone. And I like it that way. I don’t want to put up so many walls that I never let anyone in. Never have true friendship. True happiness. True love. What’s the point of this big merry go round we call life if you’re not going to really live.

So, now I need to work on a happy medium. Identifying where I’m too trusting and look past too many bad qualities and red flags. It’s not that I’m an idiot (well, I am). I’m well educated. Multiple graduate degrees. Have been making a good living for myself managing high stress situations that make others run around waving their arms screaming, “THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS FALLING!!!” Work is easy. Bits. Bytes. Process. Change. Root Cause Analysis. Fixing Problems! Oh… that’s probably it. I LIKE fixing problems. Why sit around talking about it if you can just fix it… See? This is like therapy. Which I was fired from before I even finished my divorce, because she said that I didn’t need her and I was wasting my time and money.

Funny thing is, what she taught me REALLY worked. But, we’ll discuss that a little later. Cognitive Behavior Therapy is GREAT, but I’m thinking I used it a little TOO much in this relationship. Aaaah… Maybe if you have to use CBT in the first place… That might be a flag. I’m finding them everywhere now.

So, that’s me in a nutshell. At least the part of me that’s why we’re here. I’m not sure how my humor will come across. I have extremely dry humor, that catches new people off guard with my delivery. Now, this is what they say they love about me. I also love good bathroom humor and everything in between. I’m keeping up a good spirit through this. The Deputy couldn’t believe I was cracking jokes and not sobbing as I gave him my statement. “What? Make this worse?” Humor has always been my coping mechanism. So, don’t be surprised if there’s a little dry humor here. I can’t promise this will be funny, though. We’ll see how the story unfolds.