The Story of Millennial Bachelor: Welcome To Adulthood (Part 5)

Picking up where we left off after a break on my end. So I graduated and did not have a job lined up. That little fate I had in my dad? Completely naive, he had nothing for me. However, I had done enough research in my senior year of college to find a path to a successful career. I came back home and it felt different, like my home was a toxic atmosphere but now I had purpose. I did not just have hope but I had strength and was able to push back against my abusive father. Given how overweight and weak he was, I would have easily clocked him if he ever put his hands on me.

It felt different, I stopped seeing my father with respect and realized that outside of the title of being my dad, he was a loser. My dad had gone from someone I feared to someone I looked at with contempt and pity, nothing he did really worked on me. People say that you need role models but I believe that sometimes, having the opposite is even more powerful. When you have a loser and a miserable person you can look at, you can start to strive to not be like them. For me, that is what it was. I finally found someone I wanted to not be like in my father.

The 6 months rotting away at home after college were full of fighting with my parents but I did some coding in the meantime. It did bite at me to go on social media and see my former classmates who were in Manhattan or Brooklyn, it fueled a fire. After a few interviews, I finally got a job in Atlanta. I was in a whole new world now and Atlanta did seem like heaven. However, in a way, I was tied down to the past. Maybe in my time in Atlanta, I could make up for lost time in college. I could date the sorority girls I had no shot with before. That fire to compensate for my college days, be it status or dating, was there. Could life after college be better than life in college that I missed?

However, I remember this feeling of paradise, like being let out of a miserable hole in the ground when I arrived to Atlanta. For the first 3 months, life was good. My boss was this dorky black guy who seemed super friendly and the most senior leader this Indian girl with a high-pitched voice. Even at home, I was eating healthy and working out. I also started to go out a bit and took game somewhat more seriously. It all seemed good, until it did not.

In 3 months, the workplace culture became beyond toxic. I noticed that my friendly boss was good at faking a smile but when the doors closed for team meetings, talked about how he would beat up and assault leadership in other departments. In just that three month period, this guy went from friendly to toxic, almost as if it was scripted by him. I won’t bore you with the corporate nonsense but I was one of the couple of folks singled out. The Indian girl and the abusive boss ganged up on me, a lot. However, I hung in there and found solace in life outside of work. I would also start to frequent strip clubs for the first time of my life.

Work would get overbearing at times as we were somewhat obligated to show up to the social events. The Indian girl happened to know the snotty Indian guy I had a bad experience with from the previous part of this story. We were more or less forced to go to her social gatherings involving him where he could show off how high status he was. It poked at my college insecurity at the time, to deal with that guy and his snotty hipster white clique. To think back at it now, well it was an afterthought.

My coworkers went from being people I loved to people I was scared of. I was between a rock and a hard place because I needed my job. Getting fired meant that I would have to go back home to a toxic family who had no interest in doing what is best for me and restraining me from chasing my career that got me out. The immigrant mentality is you stay in school forever and never get paid. Get your PhD and throw your 20s and 30s away folks! As toxic as work was, I needed to grin and bear it before I had enough money to quit.

I would go out to bars solo in Buckhead and had some luck with leveling up my game. Due to how toxic work had become for me though, I was not as much into it. I ended up joining a local youth church again and it seems like the story repeats itself, I found friends. I found a lot of good friends but one in particular at the time was memorable, this kid named Noah. Noah was unique because both of his parents were half-Asian and half-White. As a former high school Quarterback, Noah was a confident and charismatic dude but being from small-town South Carolina, he was somewhat sheltered.

One night, Noah and I hung out, had some drinks at his place, and smoked. Given that we met at a Church group, the taboo of it all made us realize we were friends from the get go. We went out to Virginia Highlands that night and I started approaching. Noah was impressed by this and that validated me. Having a friend impressed with you approaching is validating and truly adds to you wanting to approach more. We would approach this blonde two-set towards the end of the night but then fail to close at the very last second, they were so down.

The friendship with Noah and his crew kept me happy and was a good escape from work. Once again, the House Of God had done it, The Church had provided me solace in a tough time of my life. After almost a year at my job, I would interview like crazy. I interviewed in other cities but those fell short. At some point, it became way too much for me and hard decisions had to be made.

I would quit my job after a year without another lined up but I had some left in savings. I took a new job where I doubled my salary and with the new salary, I got new pics taken from a professional photographer. My matches on dating apps exploded to where I had a 100+ matches on Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge. In this time, Noah also turned on me because he didn’t like me making more money and finding work at a prestigious company. I found that Noah loved it when he was above me but when I bettered my station in life, he became petty.

However, the dates and fun were catching up to me. I ended up showing up to work late and that was not a good look. After 4 or so months on the job, I get pulled into a meeting with my boss and HR on the line; I got fired. It hit me like a shit ton of bricks but I had saved up enough for the next six months so I had time on my side. I was funemployed as they would say.

I had a date or two every week and at the age of 24, had one date that came out of nowhere. It was this tall brunette with pale skin and freckles. One thing led to another and I took her home, later on I smashed. In my area, there was this really cool Irish bar I would take girls to. The bar had this amazing and charismatic bartender who was this skinny youthful looking black guy. I’d consider him a wing at some points. A week later, I had a date with this Arab girl and smashed. A week after that, I had a date with this Indian girl and smashed.

At one point, I started to frequent the strip clubs. Come to find, one of the strippers was this tall skinny brunette that lived in my building. I got a lap dance from her twice and then a month later, one thing led to another. Long story short, I smashed. At the time, it was some of the best sex I ever had. I did start to notice, perhaps due to the drinking, that I could not consistently get it up but I thought little of it. After losing my virginity at the age of 24, I was on a streak for the ages.

A week after smashing the stripper, I pulled this Italian MILF off of Bumble and smashed on the first night. A week after that, I pulled a former sorority girl from Ole Miss and smashed. The girl had a very Mediterranean look to her despite having a very English name. In a span of a month of being unemployed, I slept with about 11 different women. In one week, I slept with three different women. At some point, I’d get tangled up with this Serbian cougar who was very possessive towards me. She was 47 and I was 25 at the time.

The woman had my ideal look, imagine a slightly curvier version of Megan Fox. The black hair, olive skin, blue eyes, and the whole package. Sex was wild and crazy but she was the roughest lady I have been with to date. The closest resemblance I have found to her is Radha Hirsch from Tiger King (Doc Antle’s lover). A spicy relationship turned into her being predator and me being prey. At one point, she arrived at my apartment complex, found me in the commons area, and jumped on me. We ended up in this little theater near the lobby (it was an upscale apartment) with a massive TV late a night and fucked in the darkness.

Online dating created a new system for me but my heart and mind were not happy, I was not happy. I wanted more than just sex, I guess I wanted status, power, and the ability to pull through other means. With nightgame, I did not have as much luck because I just didn’t try as hard. I did not shoot my shot as aggressively and was out of luck with some quality women. Most of all, not having a large friend group or clique started to bite at me. I was chasing all of the wrong things in life.

I realized that I was also becoming somewhat of an alcoholic in my mid-twenties due to all that I missed out on from college. My mindset at the time was tough for me to explain. I feel as if I valued partying and social validation even more than getting laid after being a mostly incel guy in college. Maybe it was that Atlanta vibe where high school never seems to end and it seemed like the hottest girls were all stuck in one giant clique in Buckhead. A clique I had no access to because I didn’t grow up alongside them or whatever reason really.

At that time in life, I was becoming obsessed with appearances. I dreamed of having a lot of Instagram followers, dating models, being seen with hot girls, and making up for not being the big man on campus. I was having success with women and making decent money (before getting fired) but I was not happy despite all I had. Looking back at it, outside of a great social life, life in Atlanta was pretty good for me. I was in decent enough shape, could go out to drink at some bars I was a regular at, had multiple dates a week, and things were convenient for me.

The friends I had were all from church so getting laid and sleeping around with random women would not sit well with them. Despite our differences in lifestyle, I can say that a lot of them were good people. However, I feel like whatever I had in Atlanta at the time was not enough. I ultimately wanted to move to NYC at some point because I would see the life the kids in Williamsburg or Manhattan were living and I wanted that. Friends, drinking, partying, the fast life; you name it.

I asked myself why this was but this was the time I truly came to think a lot about how my youth and college days had impacted me. Around this time, really when I moved out to Atlanta, I started writing angry emails to my dad. I was angry at what he put me through and how it was impacting me socially. I was angry that I could not get a jump start in a lucrative field because of him and also how his intrusive parenting impacted me socially for years. Some of the messages I wrote to him were dark and full of rage but he never responded with rage in return.

I’d occasionally visit my family for Thanksgiving and the Holidays but things seemed happy and normal. My parents seemed happy that I found a career path that had me independent but whenever I went back home, the rage came back to me. A month or more later, I would go back to writing angry messages to my father and ignoring him at every turn. Whatever my situation in life was, whatever I was lacking; it made me angry.

I should have had a decent childhood and a chance to do things like play sports and socialize. I should have made good friends and been that popular kid. I should have had the chance to reap the benefits of a great social life well into adulthood. That should have been me! I seemed to have it all but I felt alone despite all of it. At this point in life, I fell more in love with being seen as a guy who gets laid a lot than actually getting laid a lot.

During this time of my life, around my mid-twenties, I started to drink a lot. The taste or addiction to alcohol is not what got me drinking, it was something else. Drinking to me was rebellion from my repressed past so getting drunk was like a way for me to give a big F-U to my repressive upbringing. I drank without a care and engaged in binge drinking as some form of rebellion against that sheltered upbringing. I was unemployed (with a lot in savings) but I was not happy and I knew I had to get my shit together soon. The drinking and junk food had caught up with me and the six pack abs I had spent years to get had gone away as I was fatter than usual.

All I could think about at that time other than boozing was being socially important. I looked up to the idea of being the next Dan Bilzerian who has a lot of clout, is rubbing shoulders with all of the important people, and dating the hottest women. Deep down inside, it was going to be my way of getting even. I was going to show them, that is what was going to happen. I had to get even or get redemption and I didn’t even know who it was against or what it was against.

I’d see the guys who were dating the hottest girls and look at them with pure envy. I was very spiteful towards other men that were having a lot of success with women. As fucked up as it sounds, I felt like I had a mind similar to Eliot Rodger except I didn’t want to harm anyone. I had grown into a narcissist and my body was fueled with rage, anger, and bitterness over not having the social life and friends I wanted. Things seemed good on the outside but I knew at the time that it would be best that I left Atlanta so I started to job hunt in various cities.

My two months of unemployment were something for sure. I went out a lot, drank a lot, explored the city a bit, and lived care free. However, my job hunt had picked up. After a lot of interviews, I had to decide between a job in Denver and a job in NYC. The Denver job had the better manager but I knew that Denver was not an ideal city for dating and meeting women. I knew that deep down inside, I would miss not being in NYC if I lived in Denver. I said screw it and went for the job in NYC which would start in the New Year. Meanwhile, I had to make plans to put Atlanta in my rear view.

In that time, I had one more date with this Persian girl. The date was on the week I was supposed to move out. I did my usual routine, took her to the Irish bar, and then took her home where she was way into it. We fucked raw that night and I had to move out the day after tomorrow. I got it up somewhat but my erections were not as strong, probably due to all the drinking. However, I did eat her out and she tasted amazing. She had very soft skin and beautiful green eyes. I even drove her back before packing most of my shit up the next day.

After that, I would drive back home to my parents. I stayed for a week with them as I arranged to go to NYC. We looked for apartments and then I booked my plane tickets. The plan was for me to stay in an AirBnB before I finalized an apartment in the city. The day came closer for me to fly out and things would now be different. More on that in the next part.

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