November Spawned a Monster
Apparently, my maximum tolerance for a man is three months - it's officially over with Christian (though I should say "unofficially" because he's been waiting for ME to call HIM and I have no intention of breaking the silence with a dumping). There were no major problems - just a series of cumulative pet peeves and I'd rather be stoned to death with popcorn than deal with them another day:
I have no problem dating a poor (monetary-challenged) man, but a tightwad, cheap boyfriend who makes more than I do, and hasn't taken me out in three months, but still manages to come over and drink all my beer? Thanks, but no.
This might be irrational, but I don't like people who sleep more than 6 hours/night.
He doesn't believe in evolution, fossils, or carbon dating. Seriously. Gravity is also a theory, and I may not understand the complexities of it, but that doesn't mean I won't land on the floor if my drunken self falls off a bar stool.
He'd complain about my Netflix movie choices. She who pays, chooses!
Chewing tobacco. Just...ew!
How endearing that he has no cell phone or internet? Nope. He's too cheap and was hoping I could add him to my family plan.
He watches competitive fishing shows. Day and night.
Tell me, again, about all the fish in the sea??