Sam Shady

By the time Spring had sprung, the dust settled and my poor thumbs recovered from two months of texting Tom. I was back in the swing of things and was out on the town with some girlfriends ready for an uneventful Saturday night. We headed out to our local bar and were having a great time when I recognized someone from a previous night out. The first time I had seen this fellow was at a crowded bar during a very drunken Irish festival a few months earlier while I was already occupied with a ginger (sorry to report that although this ginger was crazy, his story is not worthy of its own post) that later became that evening’s conquest. This time, I decided to approach the familiar face and we began the “getting to know you” dance. From what I learned about “Sam” that first night, he seemed like a nice (and surprisingly normal) 27 year old guy so when he asked for my number, I gave it to him. After a goodnight kiss, I went on my merry way hoping to hear from Sam sometime soon.
I should probably preface every story I share by saying that I am famous for ignoring red flags when it comes to attractive guys. Red flag number one for Sam was the fact that he texted me 10 minutes after I left the bar, typing sweet nothings into my Blackberry’s ear. Red flag number two came the next morning when he texted me asking to get together that evening, to which I declined, mostly because “hungover” is not a look that suits me very well.
The following night I was looking like myself again and decided to accept the second invitation to hang out with Sam. I assumed we would do dinner or see a movie like normal people. Instead, Sam invited me to his house and when I arrived, he informed me I would be meeting his mother. This incident should have been the biggest red flag in the history of red flags but keeping with the theme here, I ignored it, slapped on some lip gloss, and met Sam’s mother who happened to be a very nice woman. Hanging out in Sam’s room that night made me feel like a teenager again, and not necessarily in a good way. The fact that we were confined to his room, watching garbage reality TV made me wonder if there was something Sam wasn’t telling me. Fast forward to our second date when Sam invited me out for drinks on a Wednesday night but asked me to pick him up. Hoping that he wasn’t just a raging alcoholic that never leaves the house without a designated driver, I agreed. After a few drinks and a few rounds of beer pong, (eternal teenager perhaps?) Sam became loose lips and told me about his multiple DUIs and handful of assault charges which have left him without a license for the next few years. Needless to say, I was thankful for the full-time job I had to wake up for the next morning because it became my excuse to promptly leave the bar, with Sam in it. Of course he called about a dozen times and left messages to apologize but I ignored every call and I never once called him back.
That was the last time I saw Sam and it wasn’t because I have anything against criminals. I just have something against clingy criminals that make me meet their moms because they can’t operate vehicles or leave the country without alerting their parole officers.