40 and still single

Someone Is Getting Married

2013-08-24T08:00:00.002-04:00

Someone got married every year in my family and everyone got involved. It was a huge social event and it wasn't always pretty. People judged the dresses, invitations, flowers, food, you name it someone had an opinion. My family members didn't just voice their thoughts, they shouted them and it was all very dramatic. I didn't understand the point of it all. The only good thing I saw to come out of these events were the gifts. I attended bridal showers and was blown away by the beautifully wrapped boxes and what were inside them. We’re talking china, silverware and washers and dryers! At first I wanted to get married so I could get game show type prizes but that all changed while my family planned my aunt's wedding.

My family fussed an awful lot over this occasion and it confused the hell out of me. I tried to follow what was happening but I simply couldn’t. I asked my mother multiple times why everyone involved looked happy and angry at the same time. Her reply was always the same.

“My sister is getting married so we have to plan a wedding. It’s a lot of work, you might see for yourself someday.” She said each time I asked.

What did she mean by might? Of course I’m getting married, that’s what we do!

"I don't get it." I said

“When a boy and a girl love each other, they get married like me and daddy did. In order to get married, you have to have a party.” She explained

I still didn’t understand what all the fuss was all about. This craziness didn’t look like fun at all. No one yelled while planning my birthday parties and I didn't understand my mother's explanation. I didn't have a choice. I just had to sit back and wait for the big day to get a better understanding.

The next few weeks got even crazier. There was someone over our house to make Italian cookies. I witnessed my aunts talking about things like flowers and party savers. The discussions sometimes turned into arguments and someone usually left in tears. The conversation got even more heated when they talked about seating arrangements. This party seemed to be more of a hassle than anything else. I suggested that they just have it in our basement and everyone could bring food. We did that for holidays, why not for this? Apparently I was the only one who thought this was a good idea. I remember thinking that this wedding stuff was bullshit and there was no way I ever wanted to go through this. In my adolescent mind, nothing was worth all of this drama.

Finally the big day arrived. I wasn’t sure what to expect, all I knew was that I would be wearing my gorgeous new outfit out of the house! I wore that cream-colored jump suit with pride as the four of us piled into my father’s red Malibu Classic.

After what felt like an eternity, we pulled into the church parking lot. The anticipation of this day was killing me but my parents didn't seem to care. My sister and I begged our parents to hurry up and get out of the car but they ignored us. Before opening the car door, my mother pulled down the visor and reapplied her lipstick for the third time. I looked out of the car window anxiously and recognized my relatives walking towards the church but they all looked different. Everyone seemed taller, sleeker and prettier than they usually did. They greeted each other with big hugs and kisses and I wanted to be a part of it. I have never seen so many happy people before which got me more excited.

When we finally stepped out of our car, a group of smiling relatives approached us with open arms and scooped my sister and me up to kiss every inch of our faces. My mother had a hell of a time wiping off sloppy lipstick kisses with her fancy handkerchief but she didn’t seem to mind. The hugs and kisses continued as we climbed up the stone steps towards the oversized church doors. We all walked into the same church we’ve been to many times before but this time it looked unrecognizable. I noticed beautiful flowers and large bows as a man in a tuxedo rushed us into our pew. People were talking loudly which I found to be shocking to hear in church. I thought for sure Jesus himself was going to come off the cross and slap everyone.

Shortly after we sat down, the organist started to play and the loud chatter came to halt. My father picked me up so I could see what I remembered to be the most beautiful sight ever: the wedding party. The bridesmaids looked amazing in their identical flowing blue dresses. Their up-do hairstyles and bright blue eye shadow made them look like movie stars. The handsome men escorting them looked stunning in their black tuxedoes. The colorful shirts and bow ties that matched the women’s dresses were a perfect touch. The clincher, however, was the bride.

The music changed and everyone in the church stood up as she appeared at the back of the church with her father. She looked like a fairy princess in her white puffy dress, long gloves and crystal headpiece. He veil was stunning but I wanted to see her beautiful face.

“Why is her face covered?” I asked my father.

“Be patient, you’ll see her face soon.” He whispered.

I strained to see her face under her veil but I couldn’t. I did hear sniffling as the bride floated passed our pew and asked if she was crying. My father didn’t answer me. I was afraid to ask again so I just leaned into my father’s shoulders and stared at the bride.

I wondered if anyone else was just as surprised as I was to hear the bride crying. I looked around the church and saw the strangest thing: Those who were smiling a few minutes earlier now had tears streaming down their faces. I turned to my mother and saw her bring the handkerchief she used to clean my face up to her eyes. I looked at my younger sister and it didn’t look like she noticed anything. I quietly turned away from mother and watched the bride and her father walk towards the Alter.

Once the bride and her father reached the priest, her face was revealed to the groom. She quickly wiped a tear from her face and that’s when my suspicions were confirmed. She was in fact crying but no one consoled her. She kept her eyes down towards her feet while her shoulders trembled softly. The vision of this beautiful bride staring down at her feet broke my heart. I wanted to run up to her to give her a hug.

I noticed that the bride tried to lift up her head up but she simply couldn’t. The organist stopped playing the procession song and the bride continued to look down. A few seconds went by and the groom reached over, gently placed his fingers under her chin to lift up her face. She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds then slowly opened them. I saw her eyes shifting from side to side as she frantically searched for something to calm her down. Her tearful eyes finally met the groom’s adoring gaze and she began to compose herself.

I’ll never forget how lovingly he looked at her. It was obvious, even to a seven-year old girl; that he was speaking to her without using words. The priest stood quietly as we, the guests, waited patiently for them to make the next move. The groom’s hand traveled from the bride’s chin towards her face to wipe a tear off her cheek. He then leaned in gingerly, whispered something into her right ear, pulled back and smiled. Whatever he said brought a bright smile to her timid face. I wanted to ask my father what was said, but I couldn’t turn away from them. The intensity of their stare and his comforting gestures brought tears to my eyes. It was in this private moment between a bride and groom, that I knew I wanted to be bride. I knew right then and there that I wanted marry someone who would be able to stop my tears and make me feel safe. The bride took in a deep breath, nodded to the priest and the ceremony began.

Meeting The Voice of Reason

2013-08-08T21:17:00.001-04:00

I wish I could say that I survived my thirties alone. I gave up trying to figure it all out a few months after my 33^rd birthday and searched for the perfect therapist. I would have lost my mind if it weren’t for Maureen.

I’m always early for appointments so it was only natural for me to be early this spring day. Her office was located in a lovely residential area surrounded by beautiful old trees and perfectly manicured lawns. I felt at ease driving through this neighborhood and a little voyeuristic. I drove up and down the street of my therapist’s office before my appointment partially to waste time and partially to check out the other “crazy people” coming out of her front door.

I parked my car alongside the curb in front of her house and stared at the brick colonial. I wondered how many people have been in and out of this house and if their issues were as devastating as mine. My mind drifted to my problem and a rush of anxiety came over me. I tried to stop myself before I went into a full-blown attack but it was too late.

The confinements of my car became unbearable as my breathing rapidly increased. I immediately put down all four windows to allow fresh air into my car but didn’t feel any relief. I reached under my car seats for a bottle water. I knew there was one somewhere in my car, why couldn’t I find it?! My dark brown hair fell into my hazel eyes and stuck to my sweaty face but I couldn’t give up on finding something to drink. I needed water! I grabbed an elastic out of my cup holder to pull my messy long hair back into a pony tale when I noticed an attractive middle-aged woman walking out of my therapist's house. She had a big smile on her face and I wondered what she was smiling about. I wanted to scream at her to stop being so damn happy but I opted not to. Instead I focused on my breathing then dove back under my car seat. I finally found the bottle water.

A few minutes later, I checked my watch. I needed to get out of my car to actually get to my appointment on time. I shoved my bottle water into my handbag and slithered out of my car. I walked slowly down the flowered pathway towards the large wooden front door. I rang the bell and listened for footsteps. My heart started to pound like crazy as I head someone open the door. I almost ran away.

The front door opened and there she stood, Maureen. She was about 5’9” and wore a pair of casual pants and light green cardigan spring sweater. Her stylish light brown/gray hair was short and it framed her pretty face nicely. She was a beautiful middle-aged woman who had the warmest smile I have seen in a long time so why the hell was I so scared?

Maureen greeted me with; “Hello, you must be Emanuela.”

I didn’t answer her right away. I just stood there in silence, like an idiot. I thought for sure she was going to gage my insanity level based on my initial response so I had to make sure I said the right thing.

“You are Emanuela, right?” She asked.

She waited patiently for my response but I couldn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

After what seemed like a lifetime I finally replied.

“Hi, yes, I am Emanuela. It’s nice to meet you.” I said.

I extended my right hand and to shake hers as my feet stayed planted on the porch.

“It’s very nice to meet you too. Please come in.” She said as she gently pulled me in the house.

I was grateful that she did, I don’t think I could have physically walk through the doorway without her help. I followed Maureen through her eloquently decorated home to an office area adjacent to her antique dinning room. She closed the doors behind us and gestured for me to sit. I sunk into one of the plush chairs that faced Maureen and pulled out a water bottle from my handbag.

“So” she began.

“What brings you here today?” Maureen asked

It was a simple, innocent and logical question. Why couldn’t I come up with a coherent answer?

“What brings me here today?” I repeated and felt my throat close up.

“Well, where should I begin?” I asked with a nervous laugh buying myself some more time.

I knew she was going to ask me this question. I prepared for this question. I rehearsed my answers a million times. Why wouldn’t the words come out of my mouth?! Suddenly, the room started to spin and I was afraid I was about to have a relapse.

“What brings me here?” I repeated.

My face was on fire, at least it felt like it was. I twisted the top off the plastic bottle and chugged the warm water. I wiped off my upper lip with the back of my hand. Took in a deep breath and spouted out:

“I’m over 30 and still single!!! What’s wrong with me?!”

I waited for a brilliant explanation but instead I got a simple smile.

"We have a lot to talk about, don't we?" She asked.
"I guess we do." I replied.

Introduction To My Book!

2013-07-03T15:21:00.000-04:00

Introduction:

I was born February 14, 1971. That’s right, Valentine’s Day, the official day of love. I should have some special insight on love and dating. I should be floating through life in a perpetual state of euphoria with the perfect man by my side. Cupid himself should be channeling his matchmaking skills through me so I could help all women find their true love. Unfortunately, I wasn’t born with any unique ability to seek out fairytale love for anyone, including myself.

I am the token single girl in my group of friends but I didn’t always hold this title. I was involved in two long-term relationships in my twenties and even got engaged at the age of twenty-eight. I thought the rest of my life was going to be wonderful. How could I not? My fiancée was my best friend, a date for every occasion and a gift giver on holidays, including my birthday. I had companionship, security and what I thought was everlasting love. My happily-ever-after came to a screeching halt six months before my wedding day. I realized that I would be happier single than being married to an alcoholic.

Not being married with at least one child by the time I turned thirty freaked me out but I got through it. Like everyone else, I assumed that being single was just temporary. I met a couple of potential husbands but luckily I stopped ignoring the red flags and walked, more like ran, away from disaster. I suppressed my urge to panic and continued to search for the right man for me. I was frustrated with being single as I fumbled through the horrible world of dating. It took years but I came to terms with the possibility that I may NEVER find the right man. I embraced my single status and truly enjoyed my lifestyle but it wasn’t easy. As a matter of fact, it was one of the most difficult things I ever had to do. For some reason, people couldn't comprehend how I could possibly be happy with living a lonely life. I assured them that I wasn't lonely but that only made them question my mental stability. Clearly, there was something wrong with me.

At some point, I fell for society’s belief that there was something wrong with me and sought out professional help. Being single and comfortable with idea of never getting married wasn’t normal. I was supposed to be desperately searching for a husband not just dating for the fun of it. Trust me, dating wasn’t always fun but I did find enjoyment in some aspects of it. Or did I? Maybe I was fooling myself to believe that I could live a fulfilling life alone? Maybe I was depressed or even deranged and didn’t even know it! I got tired of defending my lifestyle and made an appointment with a therapist. I needed someone to help me understand what I was obviously missing.

Yup, Another Blind Date

2013-04-24T22:08:00.000-04:00

Lisa was so proud of herself when she got Michael to agree to go on a blind date with me. She met him at the hospital where she worked as an Occupational Therapist and immediately thought of me when he mentioned that he was single. It took a few weeks but she finally convinced him to call me. I had no idea this was happening.

“He’s really cute and loves Italian women. He was super excited to meet you when I told him you were Sicilian.” Lisa said over the phone.

“Why? Does he expect me to make dinner?” I asked

“Hum, good question. Who cares, just go out with him! He is a doctor. How bad could he be?” She asked.

"Fine, I'll meet him." I said.

Lisa was relieved since she gave him my phone number earlier that day. He called me a few hours after she told me about him.

We talked a few times before our date. He had a deep sexy voice and said the funniest things! This guy had a lot of charisma and I couldn’t wait to see him in person.

He arrived at my home a few minutes earlier than he said he would. Luckily I was ready and eager to go. Lisa was right; he was really cute! Standing at 6’3”, his blue eyes danced when he spoke and his wavy brown hair was flawless. I thought for sure I would be in love with him by the end of the night. We walked to his car and he opened my door like a gentleman. I reached over to the driver’s side and shoved his door open just in case he was testing me. We both laughed at my gesture then talked about movies. He was shocked with I told him that I don’t like Mob movies.

“I don’t believe you! Who doesn’t like Mob movies?” He asked

“Me. I don’t like Mob movies.” I said.

“I want you to hear something.” He said.

He put in a CD and Italian music blared from the speakers. It was ridiculously loud! I reached over and turned down the volume.

“Don’t you like Italian music?” He asked

“I like it, it’s just really loud.” I said

“It’s the GoodFella's soundtrack!” Michael said proudly.

“Oh, I never heard it.” I said.

“What do you mean? It’s GoodFellas, the story of your heritage.” He said

“You can’t be serious. My heritage is not a mob movie.” I explained.

We drove around for about thirty minutes listening to the soundtrack. I tried to talk to him but he was too busy singing his heart out. I didn’t know what say or do. I tried to turn down the volume but he stopped me.

“I love this song….wait, wait, wait. You have to know this one!” Michael said as he turned the music up louder.

I turned the music off to ask where he would like to eat dinner. I could see that he was a little hurt by my actions but I really didn’t care. Driving around all night listening to Italian songs isn’t my idea of a good date.

“Can we just get something to eat now?” I asked him.

“I’m sorry. Sure. Anywhere you want.” He said.

I suggested Sushi and we agreed on an Italian restaurant. I didn’t care where we had dinner. I just wanted 100% of his attention so I could learn more about him. I was determined to salvage this night.

“How long have you been at the hospital?” I asked

“About six months. Where in Sicily is your family from.” He asked.

“Meilli.” I answered.

At first I thought that he was genuinely interested in me but it became clear that he wasn’t.

“Come on, tell me the truth. Is your family connected?” Michael asked.

“Connected how?” I asked

“You know. The Mob.” He whispered.

“Are you serious?” I asked

“Yes, I need to know. I find the Italian culture fascinating. Especially Sicilians.” He explained.

“Contrary to what you’ve seen in the movies, not all Italians are involved with The Mob.” I said.

“I get it. You can’t talk about it.” He said

“There really isn’t anything to talk about. My family is not involved with The Mob.” I said.

“Okay.” He said with a wink

He asked one stupid question after another then quoted movie lines. I must have changed the subject about a million times. Sadly, he wasn’t getting it.

“How many semi-automatic guns does your father own?” He asked.

“OH MY GOD! SHUT THE HELL UP!!” I yelled.

The waitress dropped off the check, he paid for dinner and we left the restaurant in silence. He attempted to play his crappy soundtrack on the car ride home but I threatened to through his CD out the window. I called Lisa as soon as I got home and strongly suggested that she NEVER fixes me up again.

Mustache Guy

2013-04-14T20:35:00.000-04:00

Once in a while I get lonely. It’s not a bad thing it’s just something that happens from time to time. Lucky for me I have friends like Jennifer to get me out of my rut.

“You need wine and I’m free. I’ll meet you in an hour.” Jennifer said during our phone conversation.

“You’re right, I need wine and a pity party.” I said and met her at our favorite bar.

The restaurant was crowded but there were four open chairs at the bar to choose from. First choice: next to a group of early thirty-year old guys sweating through their suits. Second choice: next to a seventy-year old grey-headed man with a jet-black mustache. The sweaty suits exploded in cheers after something they saw on TV so we sat next to the Mustache Guy.

“What am I doing wrong?” I asked Jennifer.

“Who the hell knows, maybe you shouldn’t be so available.” She suggested.

“Too available for who? I would LOVE to play a stupid dating/head game with some guy right now.” I said louder than I should have.

“You’re single?” Mustache Guy asked.

“Yes she is. Do you have anyone for her?” Jennifer asked.

I tried to kick her but missed. I knew where this conversation was headed but I couldn’t stop it. He seemed harmless and he bought us a round of drinks so we politely included him in our conversation. He asked why I was still single and I replied with my canned answer; “I haven’t met the right guy yet.”

I thought for sure he was going to tell me what I was doing wrong. I thought he as going to tell me that I was too picky or that I should lower my standards. I didn’t feel like defending myself tonight. I wanted to have a drink with my friend and forget that no one liked me. Mustache Guy didn’t dwell on my answer though instead he talked about himself.

“You should have seen me when I was in my twenties. I couldn’t keep the ladies away! I dated two to four women at the same time and wanted to keep doing it but one of them got pregnant. Don’t get me wrong, I love my son but that changed my life.” He said

“Your son got you to settle down? That’s great!” I said

“Settled down? No way! I didn’t tell her to get pregnant so she couldn’t tell me to stop dating! I only had one girl on the side instead of four. It wasn’t easy but it worked. I got married to the mother of my son and we had more children but I never settled down! I was wild and crazy then and I still am today!” He said proudly.

Jennifer and I sat there in silence. There really wasn’t anything we could say and laughing was out of the question. He bragged about his infidelity, fast cars and vacations. I wanted to push him off his chair and I knew that Jennifer would have helped me. Who does this jackass think he is? More importantly, what sane woman would get involved with him and his awful mustache? I was about to ask him where he found his ladies but he got up to leave. We thanked him for the drinks as he walked behind us and I turned around to shake his hand. He smiled and said it was his pleasure. He then grabbed my hand to pull me closer to him and whispered something in my ear. I thanked him as he walked towards the door.

“What did he say to you?!” Jennifer asked.

“He offered to spank me. He said he’s been thinking smacking my ass the whole time he was sitting there. He told me where I could find him tomorrow night.” I said

“Are you going to meet him?” Jennifer asked

“Doubtful. I will say that my pity party is officially over.” I said then took a sip from my glass of wine.

The Business Associate

2013-02-23T11:40:00.000-05:00

I met this guy at a bar. Actually, a friend I run into every time I go to this particular bar introduced us. My friend was happily married and loved to hear my dating stories. They made him feel good about being out of the dating world.

“I want to introduce you to someone. He’s a REALLY nice guy.” He said

“That’s what everyone says.” I said

“Ha! True but this guy really is. Look, I’m trying to get him to move here to help me with my business. “ He explained.

“So, you’re pimping me out?” I asked

“Sort of.” He admitted.

“No thank you.” I said

“Come on! Go on one date, that’s all I’m asking, just one little tiny date. What do you have to lose? You’re single, he’s single; you two are a perfect match.” He said.

“We are a perfect match because we are both single?” I asked

“Yes. Just meet him.” He said

Before I had the chance to argue his ridiculous statement; a 6’3” bald man appeared and the formal introductions were made. He was sort of cute, if you like the football player type. Personally, I don’t.

“So it’s all set then. I’ll see you Wednesday night at 6.” The Business Associate said as I collected my things to leave.

“Sure, whatever. See you there.” I replied.

I had a bad feeling about this guy but what the hell, I could be wrong. He could end up being the love of my life. I arrived at the restaurant on time and walked towards the bar area. I noticed that the friend who introduced me to The Business Associate was leaning up against the bar.

“What are you doing here?” I asked

“I wanted to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” He said

“What do you mean? I thought you said he was a nice guy.” I said.

“He is but he’s a typical guy and sometimes men do stupid things. I don’t want him to end up being another bad date story. I figured I would be here just in case.” He explained

“Well, thank you, I guess.” I said

I found a table in the bar area and made myself comfortable. My friend kept me company while I waited for my date. It was 6:15 and there was no sign of The Business Associate. I wanted to leave but my friend insisted that I stayed. Part of me thought I was being tricked. Maybe my friend, who was married, wanted to meet me tonight. Maybe he was secretly in love with me and figured he would lie about fixing me up so he could take me out on a date. I was about to lecture him on being faithful when The Business Associate walked in, twenty minutes late. I wasn’t happy and made sure he knew it. He apologized then did some stupid male handshake crap with our mutual friend. The waitress brought over appetizers and drinks and our friend took a seat at the bar.

Within five minutes of the date, I knew I didn’t like this guy. Within fifteen minutes I wanted to leave. I couldn’t pretend to be impressed by the fancy schools he attended or know the people he named dropped. I tried to find something in common with him but was unsuccessful. I started to politely wrap things up when he invited me to a weekend away.

“Are you serious? You are inviting me to romantic weekend in Newport RI? Next weekend?” I asked

“I am. Newport is beautiful and I could see us having a great time there.” He said.

“I’m familiar with Newport but I don’t know you. Why would I leave Connecticut to go on a second date with a stranger in another state? Not just a date; a romantic weekend! Don’t you think that’s a little extravagant? How do I know you’re not going to kill me and leave my body to rot? No thank you, I don’t want to end up being a missing person.” I said.

“Do you really think I would harm you?” He asked.

“I don’t know but I’m not willing to find out!” I said.

“I’ll get us separate rooms if you’d like.” He said

“No thank you.” I said again.

I pulled my sweater off the back of my chair and grabbed my wallet out of bag. I looked across the table and saw the disappointed look on his face. I felt bad for him and got mad at myself for being mean. I didn’t have to accuse him of being a murderer, I could have simply said no.

“I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t kill me. I just don’t feel comfortable going away with you.” I said.

“It’s ok, I sort of understand.” He said.

I felt better after my apology. He asked if I wanted anything else; I didn’t. I asked what how much money I should leave for the tab but He didn’t answer me. Instead he pushed out his lips and started to pout. He then tilted his head down and raised his eyebrows.

“What are you doing?’ I asked but he didn’t answer me.

“Are you pouting?” I asked and he nodded his head yes.

“Can you please stop that?” I said and he shook his head no.

“Seriously. Stop! You look like an idiot!” I whispered loudly.

Our mutual friend jumped off his bar chair and ran over to our table.

“What are you doing?” He asked The Business Associate.

“I’m trying to get a second date.” He replied still pouting.

“That’s how you try to get a second date?!” He asked.

The Business Associate bobbed his head up and down. Our mutual friend was just as mortified as I was.

“You got this?” I asked my friend

“Yup. I’m sorry.” He said as I walked away from the hot mess.

I never heard from The Business Associate again. I did see my friend a couple of months later. We pretended that my date never happened.

Thank You

2012-12-09T19:07:00.001-05:00

I just wanted to take a minute to thank you all for reading my blog. I am deeply flattered each time you comment on my facebook/twitter page and approach me in person to tell me how much you love my stories. I'm also thrilled when I hear that you've encouraged others to check out my blog! Your complements and support are overwhelming and very much appreciated.

THANK YOU ALL VERY, VERY MUCH!!!!

Boston Boy

2012-11-20T20:50:00.000-05:00

It was a sweltering summer day and I couldn’t wait to get out of my car and into my boyfriend’s air-conditioned apartment. That’s right, I said it, my boyfriend. I finally got one and his apartment complex had a pool! Bonus!!

We met at a friend’s party in Boston and his interest in me was a complete surprise. He was a few years younger than me and lived over an hour away so when he emailed then called me, I was a little suspicious. What did this 6’2” Bostonian want from me? After a couple of conversations and a few dates it became clear that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this title but what the hell, he was nice enough. I was in!

“The air conditioning in my car isn’t working. I hope the frozen blueberries I’m bringing for tomorrow’s poolside party survives.” I said to Boston Boy as I sat in traffic on the Mass Pike.

“They should be fine. I have to warn you, I’m a little crabby.” He said

“I am too and this traffic isn’t helping. Would you be ok if we stay in tonight? I’m exhausted.” I asked

“Of course. I was hoping you would say that. We’ll get take out and watch a movie.” He said.

“Sounds good to me!” I said and prayed that the traffic would let up.

Three hours later, I was sitting on Boston Boy’s couch and replying to work emails while he was on-line trying to claim a free movie. He was having a difficult time and was very vocal about it. For some reason, this genius couldn’t figure out how to claim a free movie. I suggested that he call customer service but he didn’t want to do that. I suggested that we watch whatever was on TV and he whined that he earned a free movie and that he was going to claim it. I offered to pay for the stupid movie but he didn’t want my money. I didn’t have a choice; I had to ignore him to avoid an argument, just like a real girlfriend.

I finally lost my patience when he let out an irritating whimper. I wanted to shake him and scream “ZIP IT!” Instead, I asked him to walk away from the T.V, out of the apartment and get us dinner. Thankfully, he left and I was able to finish my work, change out of my suit and pour myself a glass of wine. Ok, I was officially ready to be a good girlfriend.

Together, we transferred the food from cartons to plates and got cozy on the couch. The food was pretty good but the red wine was crap. I didn’t care though, I had a boyfriend and we were doing boyfriend/girlfriend stuff. I didn’t think I would ever be this happy. I have eaten in the finest restaurants, sipped on expensive wine and traveled to exciting places for dates (all things I love to do). But there was something special about balancing a plate of food on my lap with this guy that trumped it all.

Boston Boy cleared his throat while I enjoyed the moment. I looked over at him to see if he was ok. He had a smile on his face; which made me smile. I finally got what I’ve always wanted and I was happy.

“You know, you beat out a 24 year old.” He said arrogantly.

“Pardon?” I asked completely surprised.

“I could be with a 24year old girl right now but instead, I’m with you.” He explained.

I put down my fork and took a sip of wine while I put my thoughts together. I wracked my brain trying to remember when the hell I entered a contest to win this jackass of a prize. I had so many questions and one of them was why would he want to ruin this?

“What are you talking about?” I asked calmly

“Like I said, I could be on a date with a twenty-four year old girl tonight but instead, I’m here with you.” He repeated.

I remained calm while I thought of the right thing to say. Clearly the perfect moment was ruined but I didn’t think it was worth breaking up over. I decided to chalk this up to a guy saying something stupid until I noticed that he was still smiling; I couldn’t let it go

“So, tell me about this girl.” I said and I have no idea why.

As he described this stunningly beautiful twenty-four year old blonde, I ran through the events from my day and what a pain in the ass it was to get to Boston. I thought about the outfits I packed, the ingredients I lugged from CT to make the perfect summer cocktail and how excited I was about spending the weekend with my boyfriend. I looked over at him again and watched his eyes dance as he talked about the twenty-year old. I knew I couldn’t ignore this.

“By all means, if there is anyone in the world that you would prefer to be with right now, please go be with that person. Don’t let ME stop you.” I said

“Don’t be mad, it’s a compliment.” He said

“A compliment? What world do you live in that makes you think that any part of that statement would be complimentary? Saying I have pretty eyes is a compliment, not this crap! How would you feel if I told you I TOO could be with a twenty-something year old guy?” I asked.

Our argument escalated and eventually I said “whatever” and dropped it. I wanted to salvage my weekend and this relationship. I knew that we would have our share of arguments so I guess this was our first fight. I went into the kitchen to infuse the blueberries with Vodka then went to bed. I was exhausted from it all.

I almost forget about our fight the next morning when he asked if he could play golf with a friend on Sunday. I told him that it sounded like a good day for him and that I would be able to get home early enough to have lunch with my parents. Our second argument ensued. Apparently, he wanted me to say that I would sit in his apartment and wait for him. Well, that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen. After an exchange of about a million “But Babes” he admitted that he never had plans to play, he just wanted to see what I would say. Really!?!? Is this what having a boyfriend is like? Hurtful statements and insecurity games?

My friends arrived while Boston Boy and I were fighting. I was relieved to see them and no one knew that I was yelling only twenty minutes earlier. I really needed a drink to get through the day and I was dying to try the blueberry cocktail I put together.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I don’t care for blueberries?” Boston Boy asked as I handed him a glass.

“Are you allergic to blueberries?” I asked.

“No, I just don’t like them.” He explained.

“Don’t drink it.” I said as I pulled the glass away from him.

He grabbed his glass and carefully sipped it. He gave me his approval and I stopped myself from punching him. It was over, all I needed to do was play out this weekend and lots of vodka was required.

My plan of getting drunk worked so I knew nothing could bother me now. I didn’t even care when Boston Boy went shopping with my friend and me and freaked out when I bought an $80 dress. He felt that the $80 should have gone into our retirement fund. I was confused so he broke it down for me.

Apparently he didn’t like the fact that I “get” to retire before him. The thought of him going to work while I stayed home in about twenty-five years upset him. Seriously, he was visibly upset. I’ve been working my ass off since I was fifteen years old and no one will ever tell me how to spend the money I’ve earned. As for my retirement plan; I don’t see him living with me at an Assistant Living facility on a beach with a decent bar. He’ll totally get in my way of staring at the ocean, playing bingo and flirting at happy hour.

This was the final argument and it lasted the longest. I didn’t care how happy I thought I was or how sweet this guy pretended to be; I was done! After a couple of phone conversations and an awkward dinner it was over. I could have sucked it up and ignore the weekend from hell; at least I would still have a boyfriend. Ahhhhh….screw it, no man is worth all of this aggravation.

The Happy Irish Guy

2012-09-09T21:30:00.001-04:00

I spent hours creating the perfect on-line dating profile and my friends played a huge role in editing it. The goal was to have a cute and informative summary to capture the attention of a quality man. My other goal was to get my lazy ass off my couch and go on a date! I couldn’t remember the last time I had dinner with potential boyfriend plus, it was summer and I was bored.

I made sure to include the important crap like how much I LOVE hiking and good conversation. The other important detail I needed to share was the fact that I was 99.9% sure that I didn’t want to have children. Thankfully there was a box I could just check of regarding reproducing. The good thing was that a lot of the age appropriate men on this dating site were single dads. Most of them were not interested in having more children and I was fine with that.

On-line courting was tedious and annoying but eventually I got a face-to-face date with The Happy Irish Guy. I wore a cute summer dress and wedges; he wore cargo shorts, a tee shirt and flip-flops. I didn’t judge, I smiled and said it was nice to meet him.

“Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find this place!” He said as he sat on the bar chair next to mine.

“That’s ok.” I said.

“I’m glad you're not one of those girls that gets pissed off at everything.” He said.

“Oh. Okay then.” I replied politely.

My first impression wasn’t good but he won me over. We started out with the typical small talk stuff and his robust laugh was infectious. He showed me a picture of his red headed six-year old son and immediately explained that he got his red hair from his Irish ancestors. He was very proud of his Irish heritage and I thought that was charming. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol but I was having fun. I noticed that we were the only two sitting at the bar but the bartenders didn’t seem to mind. I could tell they were listening to us but I didn’t care. Well, I didn’t care at first.

“So, you really don’t want to have children?” He asked

“I really don’t. When I was younger I wanted to have three kids, two boys and a girl, but that didn’t happen. I’m older now and the thought of childbirth and raising children exhausts me. I’m honestly not interested in having kids but I think I would make a great stepmother!” I explained.

I was proud of my reply. I thought I won some points there!

“You’re not too old! I could see you having a couple of kids. I want to have four more!” He said.

“Really. Your profile said you didn’t want to have more kids.” I said.

“I didn’t think I did until I met you!” He said.

I freaked out. What the hell does that mean? What could I have possibly said to make him change his mind about having kids? Now what do I do?

“I’m not sure what to say.” I said nervously.

“There’s nothing to say! I think we could do this, we could have four kids together.” He said

“But I don’t want four kids.” I said smiling.

“Yes you do. You would be a wonderful mother. Besides, our daughters would be beautiful!” He said

“I’m sure that if I had daughters that they would be beautiful. However, I don’t want to find out. I don’t want to have children.” I explained.

I could tell that the bartenders were trying not to listen but how could they not? Our good conversation was going bad quickly. I wanted to ask him why he thought I would make a wonderful mother. He has only known me for two hours and twelve minutes and I’ve been on my best behavior. He doesn’t know that snot running down a child’s face makes me gag or that I think medicating a child to get them to sleep is a great idea. (Don’t freak out, I know it’s wrong)

I changed the subject many times but he kept bringing it back to knocking me up. The more he tried to convince me to have children the more adamant I was in not having them. He described a life of sleepless nights and diaper changing and I was not impressed. He called himself the baby whisperer and I begged him not to elaborate but he did. Apparently he has a way to get a baby to stop crying. I wanted to know if he had a way to shut his own mouth!

I planned my escape as he described how he used to cradle his infant son and sang a lullaby. Then he did the most bizarre thing I have ever been a part of. He leaned his head over my lap and dangled his hands over my abdomen. As his fingers danced over my stomach he sang:

“Don’t you want a little baby growing in your belly?” as his fingers lingered over me.

I was shocked! I immediately looked over at the bartenders and noticed they were trying not to laugh. I wanted to disappear. I also wanted to beat the hell out this guy. How dare he humiliate me like this? It was time for me to end this date! I gently pushed him away from me then checked my phone. I’m not sure what excuse I made but whatever I said worked. Before I knew it, I was driving home and on the phone with one of my girlfriends. She thought he was a dream come true and wondered why I didn’t think he was a great catch. I reminded my friend whom she was talking to and she laughed.

I couldn’t help thinking that if the tables were turned and I was the one talking about babies, I would be described as a middle aged, baby crazed woman. A man talks about children on the first date and he’s a dream come true. Interesting.

A Girl's Night Out

2012-06-17T10:04:00.001-04:00

“What kind of stain is this?” The girl working at the dry cleaner asked.

I didn’t know what the hell kind of stain it was but I had to tell her something. I wracked my brain trying to come up with a cleaver story but couldn’t come up with anything. So I cleared my throat a few times and repeated her question. She picked up the dress, shook it out and placed it on the counter with the stain facing up. I thought back to the previous night and tried to create a believable story.

It was a beautiful summer’s day and I had an awful workweek. I craved a perfectly chilled glass of white wine and a great dinner. I called a few friends but they all had plans. It was Friday night and a bowl of cold cereal wasn’t going to cut it. I decided that I was going out to dinner alone. Men do it all the time, why can’t women? I do it when I travel for work, why not when I’m in my own town. That was it! I was treating myself to dinner in one of the area’s popular restaurants.

I went home to freshen up and checked myself out in a full-length mirror. I looked pretty good after schlepping inhalers in and out of doctor’s offices throughout this hot summer day. I gave myself a pep talk as I walked my dog then headed to the restaurant. The restaurant was crowed and I will admit that I was a little intimidated. I didn’t see an open table so I didn’t ask the hostess for one. I was perfectly ok with eating at the bar so I just needed the happy hour crowd to finish up. I ordered a glass of wine and waited patiently for someone to leave. It didn’t take long for one seat to become available. As I sat in the tall chair I thought that this would have taken forever if I had a friend with me. Two seats at the bar are a rare find at 6pm.

“Isn’t this great? Two independent women sitting at the bar having dinner.” The woman next to me said.

“Yes it is great!” I said.

“My name is Karen.” She said and the pleasant small talk began.

She was a very nice person and so were the bartenders. As a matter of fact, everyone in the bar was super nice! I was surprisingly comfortable among theses people and the couple drinks my new male friends bought me were delicious. Karen had to leave so one of the men standing behind me took over her seat.

“I come here for dinner all the time. You have to try the tuna.” He said.

“That’s what I ordered.” I replied with a smile.

It was easy to flirt with this guy. He was cute, intelligent and I had three glasses of wine in me. I checked his ring finger before I continued to bat my eyes and toss my hair back. He wasn’t wearing a wedding band but this guy was too good of a catch to be single. I asked a couple of stupid questions and he simply smiled.

“If you’re wondering if I’m single the answer is yes.” He said.

I was thrilled! So far going out to dinner alone was working out beautifully! We exchanged bad date stories, which turned into a little competition. I had to pull out the big guns; I told him about fish guy. Needless to say, I won.

It was getting late and I needed to stop at the pharmacy before going home. I excused myself and said good-bye to my new friends.

“Hope to see you here again next week.” My new cute male friend said.

“I’ll be here!” I said as I walked away.

Dinner was amazing, the people were a lot of fun and I met a good guy! I floated out of the restaurant and promised myself that I would do that at least once a week. The people I passed on the sidewalk smiled at me. The kid in the parking lot booth let me go without paying and all the traffic lights turned green as I approached them. It turned out to be a fabulous Friday night!

I sashayed into the pharmacy and exchanged friendly banter with Ed, the pharmacist. He kept solid eye contact with me as he spoke. He was extra friendly tonight and was smiling from ear to ear. I thanked him and asked what his plans were for the upcoming weekend. His eyes were locked on mine as he described a weekend of picnics and gardening.

My dog Emma greeted me when I opened my condo door. I scooped her up into my arms and carried her upstairs and into my bedroom. I unzipped my tan dress then unhooked my bra. I felt an oily film on my hand and freaked out a little.

“What the hell is that? Where did that come from?” I asked Emma

She just looked at me and yawned. I looked down and noticed that a shiny substance covered my entire chest area. I picked up Emma to see if she peed on me when I picked her up but she was dry. I franticly ran into the bathroom. Whatever this oily crap was it needed to come off and fast. I jumped into the tub and scrubbed my body raw.

After my intense shower, I put on my oversized Rod Stewart Tee-shirt then picked my bra off my bedroom floor.

“What the hell is that?” I asked Emma again as I investigated my puffy bra.

My bra was saturated with the same oily crap that was all over my body. I looked closer and noticed that only the left side was drenched but it was spreading to the right. I squeezed both sides of my bra and found tiny bubbles sewed into both sides. The left one was obviously deflated. I had no idea that my bra was padded with oily packets. I laughed out loud as I stepped over my tan dress. My laughter quickly subsided when I noticed a huge oily circle on my dress.

“NO WAY!” I yelled as I picked up dress.

The oil substance from the popped bubble seeped through my dress. I wondered how long I was walking around with a big stain over the left breast area of my dress. I wondered if anyone at the bar noticed specifically that guy I met! I retraced my entire night to see if I could pin point the exact moment when my bra exploded. I didn’t remember hearing pop but clearly it happened!

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO……” I repeated over and over again. I put the dress back on to see how noticeable the circle of embarrassment was. It was VERY noticeable. I was devastated! How could my perfect Friday night turn into this nightmare?

I threw away the bra, went to bed and drove to the cleaners in the morning.

The sweet girl at the counter waited politely for my answer. I had to tell her the truth.

“I have no idea what it is. Apparently my bra popped at some point last night so whatever stuff Victoria Secret fills their bras with is what caused that big circle stain on my dress.” I said

“Ok then. Is Thursday after 4pm Okay?” She asked

“Yes it is.” I said and walked out of the cleaner’s with my head hung low.

I’ve taken a break from that restaurant but not from going out to dinner alone. It’s actually a lot of fun! Oh, if you’re wondering about that guy I met; I never saw him again.

Can’t Figure This Guy Out

2012-05-03T21:28:00.001-04:00

“Jennifer. You and Dave have to help me out here.” I muttered into my phone.

“What did you break? Do we need to bring over our tool box again?” Jennifer asked.

“I didn’t break anything this time. I need you to help me figure out what’s wrong with this guy I’m dating.” I explained.

“Oh FUN! What do you think is wrong with him?” She asked

“I’m not sure. Something is off and I can’t put my finger on it. He is in his late thirties, divorced, no kids, he’s somewhat successful and seems really nice.” I said painting a vague picture.

“He sounds like a decent catch.” She said.

“You’re right, he does sound like a decent catch and I should be thrilled to be dating him. Please meet him and tell me why he annoys me.” I said then paused to collect my thoughts.

I didn’t want to say too much because I didn’t want her to form an opinion before meeting him. It was important that they remained totally unbiased.

“You have to give me something. What annoys you the most?” Jennifer asked.

I thought about it for a few seconds.

“Ok well, he’s from the south and once in a while he busts out with a southern accent that irritates the crap out of me and I’m not sure why. A southern drawl could be hot but he doesn’t pull it off. I think it’s because he starts out talking like you and me but then, out of nowhere, I hear this southern twang. It’s like he’s possessed or something. I just stare at him in utter confusion trying to figure out what the hell happened to his voice and then I try to understand what he’s saying.” I explained.

“How could that be annoying? I bet it’s cute! Oh, I can’t wait to meet this one!” Jennifer said.

The plan was to meet at a bar on a Sunday afternoon. Jennifer and Dave got there before I did and noticed a guy sitting alone. After she and I exchanged a few texts, she approached the guy and officially met The Southern Guy.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” I said as rushed over to their table.

“You’re not late. We’re early.” Southern Guy said then gave me a hug hello.

I reintroduced everyone and ordered a vodka soda. I was excited about this meeting mostly because I knew that Jennifer and Dave would be able to help me solve this mystery. The fact that this perfectly normal guy irritated me as much as he did was confusing.

Everyone ordered food except for me, I was too nervous to eat so I just ordered another drink. I tried to come up with something interesting to talk about but it wasn’t easy. Jennifer asked me how dinner with my clients went the other night and I ran with it.

“They never showed up!” I said and continued to describe that night.

If you know me personally then you know that I could be a little animated when I talk. I flung my arms into the air dramatically and then covered my face in embarrassment.

“Everyone stared at me and the wait staff felt bad for me. I wanted to crawl under the table! I felt like such a loser! I kept saying “I can’t believe my clients didn’t show up” loudly so these strangers didn’t think I got stood up for a date.” I said.

Jennifer and Dave laughed along with me but The Southern Guy just sat there. Did he not find me entertaining? That’s impossible! I’m funny! Well at least I thought I was. I ignored his lack of interest and continued with my story. My friends laughed as The Southern Guy sat quietly.

“Wasn’t that the night I asked to meet up with you after your dinner?” Southern Guy asked.

“Yes but we decided that we weren’t going to meet because my work dinners get done pretty late.” I explained.

“We did but it sounds like your dinner got canceled. You should have called me. I would have met up with you.” He said.

“I’m sorry. I had a long week and I just wanted to take a long shower and go to bed, which is what I did.” I said

“If you really liked me then you would have called. That’s all I’m saying.” He said with a southern inflection in his voice.

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at but I was sure that I didn’t want to have this conversation in front of my friends. I changed the subject and the Southern Guy excused himself to go to the bathroom.

“Can you believe he said that?” I asked Jennifer.

“He has a point but why would he say that in front of us? And where did that accent come from?” Jennifer asked

“Did you hear it? I told you! He does that all the time. Is it annoying or am I being mental?” I asked

“You might be mental; it’s not that bad. You’re right about something being off though. I just don’t know what it is.” Jennifer said.

“I think my personality is too much for him. Maybe I should tone it down.”

Dave gazed at us with a strange look on his face.

“Did you guys see that?” Dave asked

“See what?” I asked

“He took his napkin into the bathroom with him.” Dave said

“HE DID?” Jennifer and I asked simultaneously.

“YES! He’s coming back. And he has the napkin with him.” Dave whispered

The Southern Guy sat back in his chair, wiped his lips with the cloth napkin he brought into the bathroom then placed it on his lap.

“So, you two met on-line?” Dave asked

“We did. I found that on-line dating works best for me. I’m ready to meet the perfect girl and start a big family.” Southern Guy said.

“How big?” I asked

“I’ve always wanted a big family but I’ll be happy with just four kids.” He said

“Four kids?” I asked softly.

Jennifer started to giggle.

“Yes, four kids. Don’t you want kids?” He asked

“Not really. The only way I would agree to have kids, meaning just one, it would be under the condition that my husband takes full responsibility of raising him or her.” I said.

“I don’t believe you.” The Southern Guy said

“I don’t want to have kids either.” Jennifer said coming to my defense.

“How is that possible?” He asked us.

We spent the next thirty minutes explaining to this Southern man that not all women want to have kids. I reminded him that I was forty years old and I didn’t think my body could handle four pregnancies. He still didn’t believe me. He excused himself again and walked towards the bathroom with his napkin in hand.

“You saw that, right?” Dave asked

“YES!” I said

“What does he do with it while he’s in there?” Jennifer asked.

“No idea! Why doesn’t he leave it at the table?” Dave asked

“Maybe he thinks we would do something to it.” Jennifer said

“What could we possibly do to it? I’m more interested in what he does with it when he pees.” Dave said

“Maybe he throws it over his shoulder.” Jennifer suggested

“I don’t think he’s peeing. I think he’s texting someone. He hates me.” I said

“I don’t think he hates you.” Jennifer said.

“Do you think he really wants to have four kids?” I asked

“Yes but not with you.” Jennifer said which cracked me up.

“I don’t blame him! Picture me with FOUR kids!” I said.

“I can’t picture you, or me for that matter, with ONE kid. Yeah, you need to end this so he can find a better match. You’ve only been on a couple of dates so it should be easy.” Jennifer said

“We have to discuss why he keeps taking his napkin into the bathroom with him.” Dave said.

“Why are you fixated on his napkin?” I asked

“Why aren’t you?” Dave asked

“Good question. Should that be a deal breaker?” I asked

“YES!” Jennifer and Dave said together.

“He’s coming back.” Dave said.

We watched him walk out of the bathroom with his napkin dangling from his fingers. He sat in his chair, wiped his lips with his bathroom-contaminated napkin and delicately placed it back onto his lap. We couldn’t look at each other or say a word. We knew we would have lost our composure if we did.

“Oh, he has the perfect recipe for sweet potato pie. Tell them about it.” I said

“Alright. I start with the best ingredients of course and grease up my special sweet potato casserole dish. The secret is my special casserole dish. It won’t come out right if I didn’t have that casserole dish.” Southern Guy said.

He described the process of making the “World’s Best Sweet Potato Pie” and used Southern slang so we had no idea what he was saying. We asked him to repeat himself a few times and he let out a sigh before pronouncing his words like a New Englander. He finally gave up on us and excused himself. He and his napkin walked into the bathroom for the last time.

“Did you see that? He did it again!” Dave said

“He’s totally texting someone in there!” I said

“I think you’re right. He’s been in there a million times and with his napkin. I’m sorry, you’re right. There is something off about him but I don’t think we should waste anymore time trying to figure it out.” Jennifer said.

“He’s coming back.” Dave whispered.

“That was quick.” I said

“I’m really beat. I’m going to head home.” The Southern Guy said.

I wanted to call him a liar and ask who he was texting in the bathroom. Dave wanted to ask him why in the world did he keep taking his napkin into the bathroom. Jennifer wanted to know what was so damn special about his sweet potato casserole dish. Our questions were never answered. He called me a few days later to break up with me. I was relieved.

Bath Guy

2012-02-08T22:32:00.000-05:00

Date #1

Place: An Italian Restaurant somewhere in Connecticut

I wore a pair of jeans that my friends claim makes my butt look small and perky. The lavender blouse I finally selected fell loosely off my right shoulder and exposed my tan line. I pulled my long dark hair back into a lazy pony tail but made sure a few strands gracefully touched my sun kissed cheeks. I loaded on the mascara for a dramatic look and carefully applied the perfect amount of gloss onto my lips. I felt pretty, confident and ready for tonight’s date!

I met this guy while my friends and I waited for a table in a busy restaurant on a Connecticut beach. The bar area was crowded but we found a spot to stand. I didn’t look too bad considering the fact that I spent the last three hours smearing sun block all over my sunburned body. He must have overheard me complaining to my friends because his pick up line was really smooth.

“You know. Sunblock usually works best when you apply it before you go into the sun.” He said

“Hum. Is that how it works?” I asked sarcastically

“Yup. It says so on the bottle.” He said with a sly smile.

We continued to exchange friendly banter until our table was ready. I thanked him for the entertainment and walked away with my friends. A few minutes after the girls and I settled into our seats, the waitress brought over a bottle of wine. She pointed over to they guy I was talking to at the bar and he raised his glass to me. I smiled and waved thinking that was a sufficient thank you. My friends disagreed.

“Pick up your lazy, sunburned ass and walk over to him. He deserves a better thank you than that!” Lisa scolded.

She was right; I needed to thank him properly. I carefully pealed myself off my plastic chair and walked over to him.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.” I said

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” He said.

“Well, thank you from all of us.” I said with a flirty smile.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Emanuela. And you are?” I asked

“Preston. It’s nice to meet you Emanuela.” He said then extended his right hand.

“The pleasure was all mine. Well, actually, the pleasure was all of ours! Thanks again for the wine.” I said and turned away to walk back to my table.

“Wait a minute. Can I get your number?” He asked as he grabbed my hand.

I got chills! Hell yeah he could have my number! I made sure I spoke slowly and pronounced each number clearly as he entered it into his phone. I said a little prayer as I walked back to my table. I really wanted this guy to call me and he did, the very next day! We made plans to meet for dinner a few nights later and tonight is the night!

“You look beautiful.” Preston said before taking sip from his wine glass.

“Thank you.” I replied bashfully.

This guy was HOT! His thick blond hair complimented his gorgeous face and his hands were so masculine. I wanted to crawl across the table and rip off his button down shirt with my teeth but a voice in my head begged me not to do it. I listened. Instead, I sat back and asked him a few questions just so I could hear his angelic voice. I found out that he was an investor and that he loved to travel. He asked me a few questions and he seemed pleased with my responses.

The food was delicious, the wine was fantastic and our conversation was stimulating. I never thought I would ever be this head over heals about a guy but I was! He asked if I wanted to get one more drink at the bar after he paid for dinner. I really wanted to but I know what I’m capable of with a few drinks in me and I didn’t want to ruin this. I politely declined and thanked him for dinner.

Date #2

Place: Movie Theater

It was a Sunday afternoon so I didn’t want to get too dressed up but I couldn’t help myself. I wore an adorable spaghetti strap dress and a new pair of shoes. We met in the parking lot and I could tell by the look on his face that I looked great.

“Aren’t you going to be cold in the theater?” Preston asked which wasn’t what I expected to hear.

“I don’t think so.” I said.

He smiled, took my hand and we walked to his car. He opened the trunk of his black Lexus and handed me a hoodie sweatshirt.

“What’s this for?” I asked

“You’re going to be cold.” He said as we walked into the theater.

“No I’m not.” I said.

He paid for our tickets, bought some candy and carefully chose seats away from a draft. We talked non-stop before the movie and I ignored the iced cold air that I felt on my head. Preston didn’t say a word. He simply brushed my hair away from my eyes when the wind from the air conditioner whipped it in my face.

“Put on the sweat shirt.” He suggested.

“I’m fine.” I said

“I could see your goose bumps and your teeth are chattering. Put on the sweat shirt.” He said again.

There was no point in denying it, I was cold and he knew it. He helped me put on his clean smelling sweatshirt and I was grateful that he lent it to me.

He walked me to my car when the movie ended and I took off his sweatshirt. He refused to take it back and asked me to bring it on our next date. We made plans to meet up for lunch on Tuesday

Date: #3

Place: An adorable deli

We talked about our day. We discussed the movie we saw and made plans to meet for drinks a later in the week. Things were going in the right direction so fast and I didn’t have time to question any of it. To be honest, I didn’t want to. This guy was the textbook definition of perfection and it looked like he was going to be all mine!

Date #4

Place: Wine Bar

We talked wine, food and exchanged vacation stories. He has been everywhere! I watched his beautiful brown eyes as he described the Italian vineyards he visited. Every word that left his firm lips made me melt.

“Let’s do something next week.” Preston suggested at the end of the night.

“I wish I could. I’ll be away for work.” I said.

“Ok. We’ll do something when you get back.” He said.

He sent me texts during the day and called me at night while I was away. He asked how my meeting was going and I asked about his day. It was all so normal and it I liked it, a lot!

Date: #5

Place: Mexican Restaurant

“Do you like tequila?” Preston asked,

“I do but I like it better on the Weekends. There is nothing worse than working with a tequila hangover.” I said

He laughed and agreed.

“Fine. Let’s have dinner on Saturday night.” He suggested and I was thrilled.

Date: #6

Place: A Bistro

I got there a little earlier than he did so I waited in my car. I was exhausted from cleaning my Condo from top to bottom. I mopped floors, washed windows and even put nice sheets on my bed, just in case. I liked this guy, a lot, and I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. This was date #6 after all.

I reapplied my lip-gloss for the last time just as he pulled into the parking stall next to mine. I looked over at him and smiled. He got out of his car and patiently waited for me.

“Ready for an amazing dinner?” He asked as I opened my car door.

“I am.” I replied

He grabbed my arms, pulled me close to him and kissed me like no man has ever kissed me before! I knew that it was going to be a very good night! We walked into the restaurant and the hostess sat us in a quite table in the corner.

“What’s your favorite sexual position?” Preston asked out of the blue.

“Pardon?” I asked.

“You heard me.” He said smiling.

“Are you serious?” I asked

“Yes I’m serious! What is your favorite sexual position? Do you like to be on top? I bet you like to be on top.” He said then looked down at his pasta dish.

I didn’t know what to say. Who asks these questions at dinner? Can’t he just wait to find out what my favorite is position later?

“You don’t have to answer me. I’m sure I’ll find out soon. I will tell you that when we do have sex, I’m going to have to give you a bath first.” He said.

WOW! How presumptuous can one boy be? What if I didn't want him to find out? And what does he mean by giving me a bath?

“You mean like a bubble bath?” I asked.

“I guess we can use bubbles but not necessarily. I’ll admit that it sounds weird but I can’t get into it unless I give you a bath first.” He explained.

“So, doing it right here on this table is out of the question?” I asked

“We can do it anywhere as long as I can give you a bath first.” He replied

It took a while for me to register what he just said and then I wondered if he just insulted me? Does he think I’m dirty? How could he possibly think that? Maybe I should ask him if he thought I was. How the hell do I do that without sounding like a total idiot? What if he said YES! Oh My GOD! I would just die if he thought I truly needed a bath!! I decided not to ask him mostly because I didn’t want to know the answer.

“How’s your dinner?” Preston asked.

“It’s very good.” I answered then went right back to wonder if this beautiful man thought I was dirty.

Preston started to talk about something he read in the newspaper and I politely nodded my head. Did he forget the bath thing? Should I remind him? Am I really stupid enough to bring that up again? Yes I am.

“Going back to the bath thing. Would you be ok if I showered instead of taking a bath?” I asked.

“Well, it’s the actual act of me giving you a bath that I need.” He explained.

“Oh, well that makes sense.” I said.

It actually didn’t make any sense at all but who am I to judge his fetish? I started to worry about our relationship. This definitely would have been a deal breaker if Preston wasn’t so pretty. I looked into his brown eyes then back at his strong hands. I decided that I was in. I mentally prepared myself for a bath; how bad could it really be? I asked him to describe what he wanted to do so he did.

He started with the temperature of the water and went into how he planned on lathering me up. It didn’t sound bad at all. It was like being in a hot tub except I would be the only one in the water while Preston leaned in from the outside. I pictured Preston on his knees and scrubbing my…let’s say arms. It all sounded wonderful until he got to my hair.

“Wait a minute. Say that part again.” I said

“I’m going to massage shampoo into your hair then rinse it off with water from the tub.” He repeated.

“You want to use bath water on my HAIR! That’s gross! And what about conditioner? When were you planning on putting the conditioner on my ends? Oh, and don’t forget the gloss. It has to sit in my hair for at least five minutes before rinsing it out with fresh, clean water!” I said in a panic.

Preston stopped describing what he wanted to do to me as I rambled about applying the right products in my hair after the imaginary bath fiasco. I also stressed the importance of styling my hair within fifteen minutes after washing it. Any time after that will result in a curly mess! Oh no, I can’t do this. My hair is very important to me!

“Are you ok?” Preston asked.

I looked at his gorgeous face and nodded yes. He wasn’t smiling. As a matter of fact, he looked confused.

“Umm…You can relax. I’m only kidding.” He said

“You were? Oh, I’m sorry.” I said trying to salvage the night.

“You took the hair thing a little too seriously.” He said.

“I did? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” I said

“Yeah, you totally over reacted.” Preston said.

I think that any woman would “over react” if the guy they liked announced that he had to wash her before they did it! Especially if that announcement was made over a romantic dinner!

“I’m sorry if you felt that I over reacted but you have to admit that the bath thing is a little odd.” I said.

“I don’t think it’s odd at all.” He said

“Wait a minute! Do you or do you NOT need to give me a bath?” I asked

“Does it really matter?” He asked

“Ahhh…YEAH!” I said.

He never answered me. The check came shortly after my mini melt down and he paid for dinner.

He lingered by my car and I wasn't sure if he wanted an invitation to come back to my place. It didn't matter if he did because I wasn’t feeling it. The whole bath thing, regardless if he was just kidding, was weird. I gave him a hug good night and we went our separate ways. Things fizzled out quickly after that dinner.

My friends and I dissected all six dates as well as the bathing conversation. We all concluded that he wasn’t kidding and that he was a freak.

I'm Just One of His Girls

2011-12-25T16:18:00.000-05:00

I met this guy in an up scale bar in Newport RI one night. The bar was full of beautiful people and I prayed that he didn’t notice the tall blonde to my right. I needed to keep his attention! His blue eyes were striking against his tanned skin and dark hair. I’m not sure who approached whom first. I do remember staring at his full lips as he spoke and wondered if he was a good kisser. He told me that he lived in Providence RI but was in the middle of renovating a penthouse in Boston. He was charming (That’s right, I used the word charming) and so confident! I hung on every word he said and came up with a few gems that kept him amused.

“You know, I’m pretty good at decorating. I would love to help you if you’d like.” I said.

He didn’t answer me right away. He looked me as if he was waiting for a punch line. I wasn’t joking, I would have helped him decorate his new home. I loved the way my condo in Connecticut was coming along.

“Thank you but I’ve hired a professional decorator.” He said

Well, I didn’t see a road trip to IKEA in our near future but I did see myself sipping champagne in a penthouse! I had to play it cool with this guy. He couldn’t know how impressed I was. He was beautiful, successful and available but I couldn't keep the conversation going. I ran out of things to say so I threw in the towel. I could tell that he was losing interest and quite frankly, I got tired of repositioning myself so he didn’t see that blonde. This chance encounter was fun while it lasted.

“Here’s my card.” He said handing me his business card.

“I don’t have my cards on me. Here is my number.” I said but he stopped me before I could give it to him.

“Write down your email address on this.” He said and flipped over another one of his cards.

I wrote down my email then handed him the card. This was a first, who asks a woman for an email address? I thought for sure I was never going to hear from him. My friends and I left the bar and debated the business card exchange. We dissected the entire conversation for a week trying to figure out where I went wrong. I never wanted to blow another opportunity to date an attractive successful man again. I didn’t give up on him though. I checked my emails every night to see if he would surprise me with a message, and one night he did!!

“Do you like the Red Sox’s? If you do, I could get us tickets for a game this week.” He sent.

“Sure, let me know what night and I’ll meet you there. Call me.” I typed and included my phone number.

I guess I didn’t blow it! I was given a second chance and I didn’t want to do anything to screw this up. I knew that I needed to leave Connecticut early to get my butt in Boston on time!

We met at a busy restaurant close to the Fenway Park and had dinner before the game. We laughed and exchanged stories over drinks and French fries, it was a perfect night so far. He was a really sweet guy, very attentive and considerate. The one time he checked his watch, he noticed we were missing part of the game. He paid the bill and we hurried out into the street.

“This way!” He said as he took a hold of my hand and led us to the gate.

I usually don’t like holding hands in public but this guy was HOT so I didn’t mind at all. Everything he did was so romantic and I loved it. We found our section then went to the concession stand for beers. We continued to talk about our hobbies and he expressed his obsession with the Red Sox. I thought it was adorable that he kept talking to me instead of watching the game.

“Should we go sit in our seats?” I suggested.

“Sure” He replied and handed me my ticket.

We held hands, again, as we walked down the concrete steps. The fans were out of control but I didn’t care. My date was really tall and looked like he could protect me if he needed to. He stopped walking in front of a row of obnoxious guys.

“Ok, you’re here and I’ll be a few seats down there.” He said while motioning down a few rows.

“Oh, we’re not sitting together?” I asked.

“No, I couldn’t get seats next to each other.” He said.

“Take care of my girl.” He said to the men that surrounded me.

“We will.” Replied a young guy who clearly had too much to drink.

He gave me a big hug and slapped my butt before he walked down to his seats. Once I settled in the drunken guys started to ask a bunch of questions.

“Is that your boyfriend? Why aren’t you two sitting together? Want a beer?” I tried to stay friendly as I answered each question but I felt like a sacrificial lamb.

My date looked up a few times to make sure I was ok. I smiled and waved a couple of times. He could tell that I was actually having fun with these guys and I don’t think he liked that. He walked up to check on me a couple of times and reminded my new friends that I was with him. The guys really didn’t care about him; they were more concerned about the game. They yelled a lot, high fived each other and continued to ask questions about my date. They couldn’t believe that my date took me to a game and left me with complete strangers. I had to agree with them, it was odd. One guy handed me a beer and that’s when my date walked up to collect me.

“Put that beer down. I’ll buy you one at the bar.” He said.

I chugged the beer behind his back and high fived everyone on my way out. I’m pretty sure my date didn’t notice.

We watched the remainder of the game at a bar across the street. He apologized over and over again and kicked up the public display of affection. He brushed my hair away from my eyes, placed his hand over mine and complimented me. I got chills.

The game ended and a million of fans walked into the bar. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him so I could hear him talk. I hoped that he would kiss me but he didn’t. We just talked until I told him I had to get home. We interlocked our arms as he escorted me to my car, again, very romantic! Natural, the next thing to do was kiss. We were finally alone, here was his chance!

“Well, thank you! I had fun.” I said with huge smile.

I swayed back and forth patiently waiting for the fireworks.

“You’re welcome.” He said then shoved his hands into his pockets before walking away.

No hug or good-bye kiss! Not one comment about how much fun he had! No plan to see each other again. It was the coldest good-bye I have ever had! He simply walked away and left me standing next to my car, alone. Didn’t he WANT to kiss me? What the hell!!!!

I critiqued my date the whole two hours drive home. It was a good night as far as I could tell. We flirted, we laughed, we held hands so what happened? Where was my good-bye kiss? I refused to acknowledge the possibility that he might not be interested in me. He had to be! I checked my emails as soon as I got home and noticed that he sent me a message.

“Hey! I had a great time tonight and hoped that you would like to meet at the casino for dinner next weekend.” He said.

Ok, so he DID have fun tonight. Thank goodness! I guess he was just being a gentleman. That’s a good thing! This means that he respected me and wanted a relationship, right? I went to bed happy and accepted his invitation in the morning.

I met him at the casino the following weekend. It was a Friday night and the casino was busy. The restaurant, on the other hand, was slow but our table wasn’t ready.

“But our reservations are for 7pm. It’s 7pm now. Why isn’t it ready?” He asked the hostess.

“I apologize sir. Please have a drink on us at the bar.” She said with a smile.

We sat at the empty bar while we waited for our table but it was obvious that he was annoyed. I asked him how the renovations were going to distract him from the situation. He drew the layout of his penthouse on a cocktail napkin and described the tiles he imported from Europe. I didn’t offer to decorate his home this time. Pier One Import/IKEA décor could never compete with granite and original paintings from sought out artists.

I waited for him to put his hand over mine or say something sweet to make me smile, like he did on our first date, but he didn’t. I guess he was still respecting me so I didn’t read into anything. Instead he continued to describe his new home and kept one eye on the hostess. He was fuming over the table and it was not attractive. The angrier he got the more I noticed other flaws. For example, his pants were too short and he had a tiny hole in the seam of the shoulder area of his button down shirt. Why would a man wear a shirt with a hole in it or pants that the cleaners shrank? I couldn’t stop staring at that stupid hole as he complained about the restaurant. I tried to focus on his pretty face but he excused himself while I was in mid sentence. Now, the only thing I could focus on were his exposed ankles as he walked away. He returned a few minutes later.

“Our table is ready, let’s go sit.” He said when he got back.

He put his arm around my waist and kissed my neck. I was surprised by his sudden display of affection and slightly embarrassed. He then pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to the hostess as we walked by. I knew it was a twenty because he folded it in a way that the number 20 was facing up. Oh, and he told me it was a twenty-dollar bill.

“Sometimes you have to spot a twenty to get what you want in life.” He said loud enough for the hostess to hear. I almost died!

She walked us through the restaurant towards a half moon shaped booth. I went in the booth first but wasn’t sure when to stop moving. We faced the entire restaurant and the few people that were there stared at us. I wasn’t comfortable and I asked if we could move but he ignored me. I tried to put some distance between us but he pulled me closer to him and rested his arm around my shoulders.

“Did you see what I did? I gave her a twenty so we can get the best table in the room.” He said beaming.

Apparently the word inconspicuous was not in this man’s vocabulary. Not only did this guy wave the cash before handing it over, he made a rude comment for everyone to hear. And now he’s asking me if I SAW him behaving like a jackass? That’s when it hit me; I didn’t like this guy. This poorly dressed man was too pretentious for me.

“I did see that.” I said trying to make light of an awkward situation.

This date sucked. First of all, we sat shoulder to shoulder. I like to make eye contact when I talk to someone. Secondly, he was a bragger. This guy loved to talk about his career, his move to Boston and his plans for an upcoming vacation.

“Where do I fit in any of your plans?” I asked.

Now, I know it was too early for me to ask him that but I really wanted to know what this guy wanted from me. It was obvious that he didn’t want a relationship. It sounded like he was more interested in having a captive audience. Tonight, I was the lucky girl who got to hear all about his fabulous life.

“We are going to split penne pasta and the veal.” He told the waitress without consulting me.

“It’s ok that I ordered for us, right? Right!” He said smiling.

He didn’t give me time to answer. Instead, he pulled out the napkin he took from the bar and continued to draw his penthouse. I tried to be interested but he started to bore me. He name-dropped every chance he got but I had no idea who those people were. I was relieved when the waitress brought us our dinner. He could finally stop talking!

I arranged the plates on our table and split the veal between us. He pulled the utensils from my hands and proceeded to cut the veal on my plate.

“What are you doing?” I asked

“I’m cutting your food. I like to take care of my girls.” He replied.

I wasn’t sure what to say or do. I simply sat there, speechless, as he cut up my food. I also didn’t know what he meant by “My girls.” This was the first time in my life that a man cut my dinner for me or referred to me as one of his girls.

“Do you want me to feed you?” He asked while holding a piece of veal pierced through his fork.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Nope.” He said then popped the fork into his own mouth.

He then patted me on my head! I wanted to punch him. Who does that? What the hell was going on here?

“Why did you just do that?” I asked

“Do what?” He asked.

“Pat me on the head!” I snapped.

“I was just being cute.” He explained.

“Well, it’s not cute. Don’t do that again.” I said

We sat in silence as I ate the bite size pieces of veal. After dinner, he went ahead and ordered a chocolate flourless cake. I’m not a big fan of chocolate; he would have known that if he asked. Again, he cut the cake into pieces. This time he tried to feed it to me. I pushed his hand away and shook my head. This date was over so I pulled my phone out of my bag to check my text messages.

“I’m well endowed.” He said out of nowhere.

Was it just me or was this statement a total turn off? We were on a second date! What woman wants to hear that crap from a guy she hasn’t even kissed yet? If he was trying to get my attention, he succeeded. I turned away from my cell phone to look at him.

“Pardon?” I asked. It was the only thing I could say out loud that did include obscenities.

“I’m so big, I can’t use condoms. They are all too small for me.” He explained.

Oh my GOD! He was serious! I wracked my brain trying to figure out why the hell he would tell me this! I don’t remember asking about his anatomy. We were eating in silence for the past ten minutes! He must have noticed that I was completely uninterested in him and this was his desperate attempt to rope me back in.

“You’ll see later.” He whispered into my ear.

I started to giggle so he giggled too. It was all so crazy! Why was he saying these things? But then, it finally clicked! He just wanted to sleep with me! I burst out laughing. I did not like this guy so why would I spend the night? Did all of “his girls” sleep with him? Did he forget that I was a human being and not just a plaything? I didn’t care what he thought; I wanted this flood pants wearing blowhole to go away!

“Stay the night. I have a room.” He said.

“NO WAY.” I replied.

“Come on, stay.” He said trying to seduce me with this freaky eye thing he was doing.

“Thank you so much for dinner. I really need to get going.” I said.

“It’s only 9:00. Don’t you want to come back to my room to watch TV or something? If you stay, we could get room service in the morning.” He said.

I wanted to tell him to give it up, it was not happening! This guy didn’t want to date me; he just wanted to sleep with me and I am not prostitute! Nothing that came out of his filthy mouth could ever entice me to stay.

“I really have to go. My friend is in a ditch. ” I said and pointed to my phone.

“What? Is she ok?” He asked

“Yeah, she’s fine.” I said as I picked up my bag.

“Let me walk you out at least.” He said.

“That’s ok, really.” I said as I exited the dining room.

I got into my car, turned up the radio and finally stopped trying to figure out what I did wrong. He just wanted to get laid; I guess it’s a compliment.

The meat cutter called me that night and left me voicemail wondering if I got home ok. I sent him a text saying that I did and thanked him again. He called me every day for three days. I didn’t return any of his calls. His last message was:

“It’s me again. This is my final call to you. If you don’t call me back then you will never hear from me again.”

He was right, I never heard from him again.

What's for dinner?

2011-11-20T17:05:00.001-05:00

I meet a lot of interesting characters on any given girl’s night out. This Friday night wasn’t any different.

“You’re Italian? Does that mean you cook?” A cute guy asked after he bought me a drink.

“I don’t cook.” I informed him which was a lie.

“That’s impossible. You’re Italian; you’re born with the cooking gene.” He said.

“That’s a little stereotypical of you to say to a complete stranger.” I said

“I’m just trying to get you to talk to me.” He said and it worked.

The conversation wasn’t that stimulating but no other guy was hitting on me so I engaged.

“What do you like to do?” He asked.

I wanted to tell him that like to sit on my butt all day and watch HGTV or Lifetime movies, eat whatever I can get my hands on and drink wine, lots of it. I didn’t want to sound like a loser so I modified my answer.

“I like trying new restaurants and different types of food. I enjoy wine so I go to wineries for tastings to find something new to share with friends. I also like to relax at home, but I rarely have time to relax with my busy life.” I said.

That sounded a lot better than my original answer. Apparently he liked what he heard because he asked me for my number. I gave it to him and the girls and I left the bar.

He called me the next day.

“Hi, it’s me. Mike from last night.” He said.

“Hi there. How was the rest of your night?” I asked

“It was good. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that you don’t cook.” He said.

I thought that was strange. I’ve had guys say they can’t stop thinking about ME but no guy has ever said they can’t stop thinking about the fact that I don’t cook. I didn’t know how to respond to this stupid line. Naturally, I became a little defensive.

“Well, I don’t know why are you stuck on that?” I asked.

“Because I don’t believe you. How about this, why don’t you make us dinner tonight and I’ll be the judge of it.” He said.

“Is this how you ask someone out on a date?” I asked.

Part of me was joking but a larger part of me was annoyed. This topic was a little original for a pick up line but I didn’t think it was something he should be harping on.

“Well, yea! If things work out between us, you’ll be making us dinner all the time so why don’t we just skip to the inevitable.” He said which threw me for a loop.

This was a first time a man jumped all the steps in dating and wanted to go right to mundane nights at home. I didn't like his presumptuous attitude at all! How do I respond to his ridiculous statement without losing my temper? What makes him think that I would make him or any man dinner every night? What makes him think that I would even like him enough to make anything work out? Could the only guy that hit on me the night before really be this big of a jackass!?

“How about you take me out on a proper date, impress me and we’ll take it from there.” I said.

“Easy there. I was just kidding. You’re right I should try to win you over. Do you want to do something tonight?” He asked.

“I can’t. I have plans.” I replied which I did and besides, a last minute invitation is rude.

“Ok then. I’ll call you during the week and we can make plans later.” Mike said and I was ok with that but he was walking a thin line.

He called a few times throughout the week and we had mini conversations but he didn’t officially ask me out on a date. We talked about work stuff and he asked where I would like to go for our first date but he didn’t invite me out on an actual date. I was confused and second-guessed his intentions; maybe he didn’t want to take me out on a date. Maybe he was drunk the night we met and forgot what I looked like or that he was even interested in me. (I might have had those types nights myself)

He called on Friday and it sounded like he was going to ask me out but I wasn’t thrilled. Everyone knows that a last minute invitation means that the guy doesn’t have anything better to do.

“There’s a game on Sunday that I really want to watch. How about this, you and I go to the grocery store and pick up some ingredients. We can go back to your place; you can make me dinner while I watch the game.” He said.

I waited for him to say he was joking but he didn’t. I couldn’t believe him! Did he seriously suggest this stupid idea again? What doesn’t he understand? I instantly flashed back to when I was living with my Ex-Fiancée and it wasn’t pretty. I pictured this new guy getting wasted on my couch and yelling at the TV. There was NO WAY that I was going to subject myself to that environment again, especially on a FIRST DATE! What is wrong with this guy?!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I said waiting to hear him laugh or say something, anything normal!

“What do you mean? That sounds like a perfect Sunday date to me.” He said.

“It sounds like a lot of work to me.” I replied.

“I don’t understand what you have against making me dinner?” Mike asked.

“I don’t understand what you have against taking me out? Don’t you think it’s early to be this comfortable with me?” I asked.

“No! Like I said before. You will be making me dinner eventually, why not start now.” He said which infuriated me.

“Look, this isn’t going to work out anyways so let’s just end this phone call.” I said to him calmly.

“I don’t get it. Don’t you want a boyfriend?” He asked which stumped me.

Of course I wanted a boyfriend and I would gladly cook for a man someday but he has to earn it! Take me out, prove to me that you are worthy of my time then I will consider cooking for you. There are steps in dating and I don’t think skipping to regular home life is a good idea. That’s not a way to start off any kind of a relationship. This guy annoyed the crap out of me and I never wanted to see or talk to him again.

I took a deep breath, counted to ten and collected my thoughts.

“You make a good point Mike. I’m not sure if I want a boyfriend right now. Maybe I’ll see you around.” I said.

“That’s a shame. Yea, maybe I’ll see you around.” He said but I never did, thank goodness!

The Weirdo

2011-10-29T11:33:00.000-04:00

“Who is that guy?” I asked my friend Kelly over drinks one night.

She turned around excitedly to see whom I was referring to. She wanted me to meet someone just as badly as I did. Her smile quickly disappeared when she saw that I asked about her coworker.

“That’s Mark. You met him at my party last year.” Kelly said

“I did? I don’t remember him.” I said

“That’s because he is wearing a suit tonight and because you were involved with some guy.” Kelly reminded me.

I thought back to her party and she was right. The jackass I was dating at the time couldn’t come to the party with me. Instead of enjoying myself, I wasted most of the night texting him. No wonder I didn’t notice Mark. Well, I was officially done with that mess of a man and ready for something new. Mark seemed nice, confident and outspoken. He wasn’t gorgeous but cute enough to get my attention. He slowly worked his way to me and bought us a round of drinks. I thanked him with a flirty smile and then looked at Kelly. It was obvious that she did not approve of my new love interest.

Mark walked away to talk to someone else at the bar and that’s when Kelly scolded me.

“Stay away from Mark.” Kelly said.

“What to do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean he’s not your type.” She said.

“You don’t know that.” I said.

“Oh, yes I do! I promise you, you are going to hate him.” She said

“ I doubt that. Besides, I don’t have anything going on right now and I’m bored. Why wouldn’t I go out with Mark?” I said.

“Because it’s a bad idea and you can’t date someone just because you’re bored. Trust me, he is not your type. Don’t forget that I work with him, I know him better than you and I know that he is not for you. If you date him, I’ll end up being his therapist at the office. I don’t want to be his therapist. Please, please, please don’t go out with him.” Kelly begged but I didn’t listen.

It took about a weeks but Mark eventually asked me out to dinner. I wasn’t sure why Kelly said he wasn’t for me. He was very sweet and treated me nicely. I will admit that he talked a lot but he didn’t have anything interesting to say. I didn’t hold that against him. He also said things to convince me that he was a good catch. That wasn’t a big deal either. I just tuned him out from time to time.

“He’s really nice to me.” I explained to Kelly over drinks a few weeks after Mark and I started to date.

“You’re kidding me. He’s not irritating the hell out of you?” She asked

“Not really. He talks a lot but that’s not a bad thing.” I said

“Oh my God, he never stops talking about himself! That’s a horrible thing. Admit it, he’s annoying.” She said

“I will never admit that!” I said with a smile.

“He is driving me crazy with all of his questions about you. He’s going to drive you crazy too. As a matter of fact, you will want to punch him in the head like I do.” She said.

“Well, I like him so I’m going to keep seeing him.” I said.

“You keep telling yourself that. One day you’ll come to me and say that I was right and you were wrong.” She said raising her wine glass to cheer me.

“Never!!” I said clanking my glass into hers

A week after I proclaimed my admiration for Mark to Kelly I started to understand what she meant. At first I was drawn to his confidence and humor. I laugh at his lame jokes and liked his strong personality but his shtick was getting old. He also called me about a hundred times a day, which drove me crazy. At first I thought it was cute but then I felt like I was being stalked.

“I called you an hour ago, why didn’t you call me back sooner?” Mark asked one day.

“Because I already talked to you this morning and because your message said that you called just to say hi. I didn’t think I had to call you back.” I said

“You don’t have to do anything but I would like to think that you’d want to call me back sooner.” He said which turned me right off!

A lot of our conversations went something like that. He was suffocating me so I asked him to ease up on the phone calls but he didn’t. It seemed like he called me even more after I talked to him about it. One day he went on and on about how he was too good of a sales person to work at his current company. He talked for twenty minutes straight! I tried to end the conversation a few times but he was too self-absorbed to notice. I couldn’t follow the nonsense that came out of his mouth and I didn’t care about what he had to say. I finally hung up on him and turned off my phone. I needed a break from him even if it was for just one night. He was emotionally needy and mentally exhausting. This relationship was draining but I refused to admit that Kelly was right.

When I turned my phone back on in the morning I saw that he sent a bunch of texts and left a few voice messages. I knew it was going to be a long day.

“What happened?” Mark asked when I called him.

“Phone died. Sorry.” I replied

“Oh, that’s ok. So let me finish my story.” He said and picked up his rant where he left off.

“Mark. Seriously. Stop. I don’t have time to talk to you right now. I’m working.” I said.

“Don’t you want to know what I said to my manager?” He asked.

“Sure just not right now. Call me later.” I said.

He called me about an hour later. I let his call go to voicemail. He sent me a text fifteen minutes after he left his message and I ignored it. He called me an hour after that and I reluctantly answered my phone. He was dying to tell me what he happened at his work so I let him talk.

“You know you surprised me.” Mark said after he finished his idiotic story.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, you’re a really good person and I feel like I could tell you anything.” He said.

“Thank you.” I said

“I have something that I need to talk to you about but I’m waiting for the right time to tell you.” He said which freaked me out.

“What is it?” I asked cautiously.

“I’ll tell you when the time is right. I sort of feel bad about something too.” He said

“Why do you feel bad?” I asked

“Well, I’m sure you noticed that I ignored you the first time I met you at Kelly’s party.” He said.

I didn’t notice but I let him continue to explain. This was the first time I was actually interested in what he had to say.

“My friends said that you were out of my league. They said that I would never get you so I purposely treated you like shit that night.” He said proudly.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t treat me like shit.” I said

“Well, I wasn’t friendly to you. My plan was to get you and then dump you to teach you a lesson and to show my friends that I you are not out of my league.” He said.

“Are you serious? Why did you feel the need to teach me a lesson? What did I do to you? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!” I yelled into the phone.

“Let me finish.” He said with a silly laugh.

“Let you finish? Are you dumping me?” I asked hoping that he was.

“No, I’m not. You’re a really nice person. I can’t believe Kelly calls you The Black Widow.” He said then laughed.

I wasn’t laughing. As a matter of fact I was fuming. Not because of my nickname, my friends have been calling me “The Black Widow” for a while. I was annoyed because I had to end this and I had to admit that Kelly was right.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. Are you dating me to prove a point to your friends?” I asked trying to escalate our conversation into a huge argument.

“Nope, I’m just saying that you are a sweet person and that I’m glad I got to see this side of you.” He said.

“I don’t know Mark. I need some time to process this whole thing.” I said.

“I understand. I’ll talk to you later. I really need to tell you something so call me when you can talk.” He said before I ended the call.

Kelly was right; I wanted to punch him in the head. Our relationship was painfully tedious. I should have been mature and let Mark know how I felt but I didn’t. Rather than acting like an adult, I chose to be aloof and unavailable. I thought I could keep doing the fade away, you know, not answer his calls, ignore his texts and be too busy to see him until I faded away. I assumed that at some point he would take the hint and go away. My plan seemed easy enough. I was able to avoid Mark's calls for a while but I couldn’t avoid Kelly. I didn’t have a choice; I had to call Kelly back.

“You have to end this and fast. He is driving me absolutely mental!” Kelly shouted into the phone.

“What are you talking about?” I asked still refusing to admit to Kelly that she was right.

“What do you mean? You know what I’m talking about! He thinks you’re playing hard to get or some crap like that. I know you and I know how you work. END IT WITH HIM!” Kelly yelled.

“FINE! Give me a little more time.” I said.

“No more time, just do it! Admit it, I was right!” Kelly said.

“I will not admit that!” I said

“You could deny the fact that I was right all you want but I know the truth. He is not for you. One day you’ll admit it to me.” She said.

I didn’t want to lose this unspoken wager but I needed to vent about Mark. His excessive phone calls and self promotion drove me absolutely nuts! Not to mention his stupid attempt to complement me. Say something nice about my appearance or my personality if you want to make me feel good. Don’t tell me that you’re surprised to find out that I’m a human being with feelings. Should I be privledged that Mark dated me? And what bizarre lesson would I learn when he dumped me? I wish he would dump me already so this nightmare could end! Oh, I almost forgot about the mysterious thing he had to tell me. Was that supposed to intrigue me enough to keep me interested in him? I really don’t care about whatever crap he had to share with me.

“Ok, ok! You were right and I was wrong. What the hell is wrong with that guy? Doesn’t he know when to stop talking?” I asked

“No, he doesn’t. He’s fun to hang out with in a group of people once in a while but that’s it.” She explained.

“If you say so. I’ll be just fine if I never hang out with him again!” I said.

It killed me to admit to Kelly that I was wrong but it felt good to vent. Now I had to figure out how break up with Mark. I called him and asked if we could meet me for coffee at a Starbucks. He seemed different over the phone but that was a good thing. I hoped he would break up with me before I did it.

* * * * *

I could tell that Mark was struggling with something when we met so I asked him if everything was ok.

“Everything is fine.” He said softly.

I was thrilled! I thought for sure he was about to breakup with me!

“It seems like you have something to say. What is it?” I asked trying to get him to say the words that I longed to hear.

“I’m afraid to talk to you about this. I don’t want to scare you away.” He said.

I felt my heart pounding through my blouse as I waited for his next words. I wanted to get this conversation over with and forget all about this guy.

“Just tell me what’s going on.” I said gently.

He looked down towards his coffee and then took a long sip. He wasn’t budging so I reached over to touch his hand.

“You can tell me whatever you need to. I could handle it, I promise.” I said

“I tried to tell you sooner but I wanted to wait for the perfect time. I think now is the right time.” He said then took another sip from his coffee.

“Ok, I’m ready.” I said dying to hear all about his big secret.

“Ok. Here goes. I pass out during sex.” He whispered still looking downward.

“What?” I blurted out loud.

“I pass out during sex.” He whispered.

Two things. #1: I did NOT expect that and #2: I had no idea what the hell he was talking about? I’ve worked in the medical industry for years. I knew there had to be medical explanation for this.

“Do you have a heart condition?” I asked.

“Nope. Everything just goes black and then I’m out like a light.” He explained but it still didn’t make sense.

“Do you get headaches?” I asked.

“Nope, I just pass out. When that happens you have to slap me across the face and bring me a glass of water.” He said giving me instructions on how to handle his episodes.

I had an unbelievable urge to reach across the table to slap him right then and there. That would have felt so good!!! What motivated this person to tell me such a thing? Did he want me to feel sorry for him because I didn’t!

I had so many questions about his “condition” so I kept asking medical inquiries. None of his explanations were logical but I needed to understand this phenomenon. He either had a rare condition or he was a big fat liar! I was relentless with my questions because I wanted to break him down. He became visibly upset but I didn’t let up.

“Look, I don’t know what’s wrong with me and Doctor’s can’t figure it out. All I know is that when it happens, you have to slap me across the face and bring me a glass of water.” He said.

I didn’t know how to respond to him so I just sat there in silence while I collected my thoughts. So many questions flooded my head. What would be the right thing to say right now? Could I just get up and walk away? What will a glass of water do for him if he passed out? This was crazy! I was prepared for a break up speech, not some bullshit medical condition.

“I’m sorry but you’re not making sense. I’m willing to slap you if you’re into that. You don’t have to make up this story.” I said after staring at him blankly for a while.

“I’m not making anything up! I have a medical condition that doctors can’t figure out.” He said angrily.

“Fine, you have a medical condition. Relax Mark.” I said.

“I knew you were going to react this way. I thought you would be understanding.” He said

“Understanding? I thought we were going to break up but instead I get some pathetic attempt for my empathy. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I think we should just be friends.” I said

“Friends? I just told you something personal about me and now you just want to be friends?” He asked.

“Yes. I just want us to be friends.” I said.

“Well, I don’t want to be your friend.” He said

“Ok then. We are not friends.” I said throwing cash on the table.

“You really are a Black Widow.” He said.

“I guess I am.” I said as I walked away.

I wanted to defend myself and point out all of his flaws but I didn’t have the energy. I called Kelly as soon as I got into my car to tell her what happened. She was relieved that the nightmare was over but not as relieved as I was. I promised her that I would never doubt her again and I never did.

I Didn't Bring A Date, Again

2011-10-08T10:20:00.000-04:00

I love weddings. I really do. There is something magical about watching two people promising to love each other, unconditionally, for eternity. Of course there are many aspects of weddings that could make that day a nightmare for everyone involved. (We’ve all played some role in this special ceremony so you know what I’m talking about.) But all that crazy wedding drama doesn’t distract me from the reason why love weddings. That reason is the Bride and Groom. I start to get emotional the moment when the groom looks into the bride’s eyes and then sob uncontrollably when they exchange their vows. Within those few moments, everyone is reminded that they are there to celebrate the love between two people. I know, it’s corny but that’s why I love weddings.

Ok, I got that out of the way. Now, let me tell you why I don’t like attending weddings. I am single. Not only am I single, I am a single woman who is pushing forty. I’ve come to terms with my relationship status but many people have not. Guests at weddings either give me a pep talk or try to crack the mystery of why I’m still single. I might as well wear a sign that says: No, I don’t have a boyfriend. No, there’s nothing wrong with me. Yes, I know that my biological clock is ticking. Yes, I would like a vodka soda from the bar. Thank you.

Things were so much easier when I had a boyfriend. I got an invitation, checked off a box, bought a dress and showed up with a date. No one cared about my boyfriend or me so no one said anything stupid. Well, that all changed after my big break up. It was obvious by their facial expressions that I confused a lot of people when I started to show up at weddings alone and then came the questions. First I had to explain why I broke up with my loser boyfriend then I had to explain why I was still single. I heard crap like:

“How could you break up with someone at your age?”

“You’re STILL single? Didn’t you break up with him a few years ago?”

“There has to be something wrong with you, what is it?”

“You’re obviously not dating the right way.”

“You must be too picky”

“Aren’t you afraid of being alone?”

“What about kids? Don’t you want any?”

“You have a better chance getting hit by a bus than meeting someone now. Beg your Ex to take you back!”

I was speechless the first few times I heard these comments but I got used to them. Eventually, I came up with a polite and generic response to all of their ridiculous statements and quickly learned how to change the subject.

I was used to people’s reactions of my single status by the time I found myself at a cousin’s wedding. I quietly sat in the pew with rest of the bridesmaids when one of the other girls leaned in and asked if I was a lesbian.

“It’s ok if you are. We’ve all talked about it and agreed that we will support you.” She said with a warm smile.

It wasn’t the first time someone asked me that but it was the first time someone asked me that in church, during a wedding. I started to giggle, uncontrollably.

“Does my whole family think that?” I asked between gasps of air.

“Yes.” She whispered.

The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention away from the bride and groom so I pinched myself a few times.

“Thank you for your support but I am not a lesbian.” I responded and she started to giggle.

I heard the typical statements at this reception and brushed them off. I looked for a friendly face and thought I found one when I ran into an old family friend. I knew that she was on her second divorce so I assumed that she was anxious about being there. I decided to be overly friendly and ordered her a drink from the bar.

“You look beautiful! How have you been?” I asked

“I’m doing ok. Since my divorce, things haven’t been easy.” She said

“I know. But look, you’re here today and you look amazing!” I said.

I was proud of myself. I thought that my kind words made her feel good about being single again. Secretly, I was thrilled to have a new friend. There aren’t many of us single women left so we have to stick together. I had it all planned out. We could go to the movies, share single serving recipes and be each other’s wing girl when needed. I didn’t want to freak her out so I kept our plans to myself.

“Where’s your date?” She asked

“I didn’t bring one. I’m still single.” I explained.

“Are you serious?! It’s been years since you called off your wedding. How could you still come to these things alone?” She asked.

Her words stunned me. Out of all of the people at this reception, she was the last person I expected to make me feel like a huge outcast. My initial reaction was to slap her but I didn’t want to cause a scene. I immediately stopped thinking of things to invite her to and went into defense mode.

“Meeting men now is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I prefer to come to weddings alone than to bring just anybody.” I said.

“It wasn’t that difficult for me. You see that guy over there. He’s with me.” She said pointing to a significantly younger man standing at the end of the bar.

“You brought someone?” I asked

“Hell yeah! I’m not going to be the talk of a wedding.” She said.

I will admit that I was a little envious. How the hell did she find someone so quickly? I had to suppress my jealously and come up with a great comeback to make her shut up. I didn’t get a chance to say anything because she opened her fat mouth again.

“What are you waiting for, the perfect guy? Well, I have news for you; he doesn’t exist! Just find someone and get married for Christ’s sake. Look at me, I’m working on my third husband right now.” She continued proudly.

“I can’t do that! I can’t rush into a relationship, especially marriage with just anybody.” I said trying to stay calm.

“You can’t be still single at our age; people are going to think there’s something wrong with you! Look at me; I’m divorced and no one thinks there’s anything wrong with me. Being divorced is acceptable, never been married is not acceptable, period.” She said and my jealousy turned into anger.

“I’m happy. Doesn’t that count for anything?” I asked.

“No! That doesn’t count! No one cares if you die happy; they care if you die alone. Look, you can think whatever you want about me but at least I can say that I’ve been married. Face it, you are a walking red flag and you don’t even know it.” She said which pushed me over the edge!

“You can stand here and lecture me all you want but your words are meaningless to me. I have always been and I will always be a strong independent woman. You have always been and it looks like you will always be a weak codependent leech. Sure you can say that you’ve been married but at I can say that I’m genuinely happy with my life. Get over yourself, you’re not that special.” Is what I wanted to say but what I actually did was drop my head in shame and walked away. Her words haunted me for months.

* * * *

About a year after that obnoxious conversation, I got an invitation to a friend’s wedding. I was so happy for them and pleased that they invited me but I was nervous. I thought back to what that stupid girl said to me at my cousin’s reception and it upset me, again. Part of me wanted to bring the disaster of a man I was doing the off again, on again dating crap with. I came really close to inviting him but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it so I went alone.

A friend of mine was also going to this wedding alone. Apparently, her attorney boyfriend needed to work on a case so he couldn’t make it. I was thrilled! We arrived at the wedding together and didn’t care about the fact that we didn’t bring dates. It was all going well until we sat at our table.

We took our seats next to our friends Sonia and Keith. They’ve been married for years and are one of the few happy couples I know. They knew I’ve been single for years but never made a big deal about it. I didn’t know any of the other guests that sat at our table but I could tell that they were trying to figure us out.

“Hi. I’m Emanuela.” I said introducing myself to the strangers and my friends did the same thing.

“Where are your dates? Don’t tell me you two girls are single.” One of the women said.

My friend immediately set the record straight.

“I have a boyfriend but he couldn’t make it tonight.” She said then pointed at me to answer.

All eyes were on me as they waited for my response. I was ready to tell them that I was single but something stopped me. I was afraid of what they were going to think or say to me. I couldn’t handle a repeat of a year ago. My friends didn’t say a word while I struggled to describe my situation.

“I’m divorced.” I said then took a sip from my wine glass.

Sonia and Keith didn’t expect that answer but played along with me.

“You caught him cheating on you, right?” Keith asked

“Yup.” I said firmly.

“You actually walked in on him, right?” Sonia asked.

“Yup.” I replied again.

“I really liked Shane. I’m still upset about your divorce. Let’s toast him.” Keith said then raised his glass.

I raised my glass too and encouraged everyone else at the table to do the same.

“We miss you Shane. We hope you’re happy.” Keith said and I clanked my wine glass with everyone at the table.

“Did you know the woman he cheated on you with?” One of the women asked.

“Oh no. I don’t think we should tell them.” Sonia said.

“You might be right. They might not be able to handle the truth.” Keith said raising his glass again.

“Let’s just toast to Shane again. We hope you are happy in your new life. We love you.” Keith said as we all clanked our glasses again.

I tried to contain my laughter but it was very difficult.

“Are you laughing?” Another woman asked.

“No, I’m crying. I have Sjogren’s Disease. I don’t produce tears.” I explained. It was the truth, I do have Sjogren’s, but I wasn’t crying.

“Is it contagious?” The woman said

“No it’s not.” I answered.

“I think they deserve to know. She walked in on him and another man.” Keith said raising his glass to toast Shane again.

“TO SHANE!” Keith said then covered his face with his hand.

“I think you should all get a visual of what poor Emanuela had to see. He was wearing women’s underwear and his lover had a whip.” Sonia added.

“This toast is for YOU Emanuela!” Keith said and everyone at the table toasted to me.

This went on the whole night. I contemplated telling them the truth because I’m not ashamed of being single but this was too much fun. This was the first wedding I’ve been to in years where I didn’t have to defend myself for being single. These people were kind and supportive of my situation and they might have been just as nice if I told them the truth but I didn’t want to chance it. They believed and accepted this ridiculous story and I was ok with it.

“You poor thing. At least you tried marriage, don’t give up, you’ll be married again soon.” The woman said.

"Thank you. I think you're right." I said with a smile.

This was the first and last time I told anyone that I was divorced. I’m a bad liar and I really am not ashamed of being still single.

Bathroom Boy

2011-10-06T21:56:00.000-04:00

“Well, that was a waste of three months.” I heard Donna say over the phone.

“Oh boy, I can’t wait to hear about this one. What happened?” I asked

“He went to the bathroom with another girl.” She said calmly.

“What? Repeat that please?” I asked while I blew on my Sunday morning coffee.

“Yeah, just what I said. He left me at the bar and went into the bathroom with ANOTHER girl!” She said but she wasn’t very calm this time.

Donna and I usually walk at the reservoir on Sundays but we didn’t meet up this week. She went out to celebrate her thirty-seventh birthday the night before with a guy she was dating. She met him on-line a few months ago and they’ve been out several times. I met him at happy hour one night and I thought he was a decent guy. He was a good-looking guy but his charisma made him really good-looking. I knew she wasn’t in love with him but I knew she liked him, a lot. So when he wanted to take her out for a birthday drink, she was very excited. I think he should have taken her out for a birthday dinner but what do I know?

“Start from the beginning.” I said, as I got comfortable on my couch.

Donna drew in a deep breath and began her story:

“We met at that sports bar close to my condo. I got there first so I found two seats at the bar. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one celebrating a birthday that night. A group of twenty something year olds walked in and sat next to me. It was one of the girls twenty-first birthday so they were really celebrating. The hooting and hollering was cute at first but then they started to annoy the crap out of me.” Donna said, painting a vivid picture.

“Do you remember your twenty first birthday?” I asked trying to think back to mine.

“Not really. Do you?” She asked.

“Nope. But I don’t think either one of us did any hooting. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.” I said.

“Anyways, I wanted to tell them to shut up but I didn’t feel like getting into an argument. Bathroom Boy finally showed up and sat in the seat I saved for him. I wasn’t happy with what he had on. I wore a nice outfit and he showed up wearing a tee shirt and a baseball hat. Middle-aged men should not dress like a college boy. But, I let it slide. I didn’t want to fixate on his clothes but I did I want to move away from the twenty year olds. I looked around but couldn’t find an empty spot so I tuned out the noise. He had 100% of my attention and everything was going well. We made eye contact, our conversation was engaging and he told me I looked beautiful. What more can a girl ask for? I thought everything was going great until the Birthday Girl became interested in Bathroom Guy.” Donna said

“What made you think that she was interested in him?” I asked.

“Well, she walked over to where he was sitting to order her drinks. Then the rest of the girls walked over and surrounded him. The Birthday Girl touched his arm a million times and flipped her long blonde hair back a bunch of times. But the kicker was when she announced that she was “Soooooo drunk!” At one point she reached over to pull Bathroom Boy’s hat off but he pulled back so she couldn’t reach it.” Donna said.

“Ok Fine, it sounds like she was more than just interested in him. How did you NOT lose it? What did he do? Was he uncomfortable?” I asked.

“Are you kidding me? He LOVED all of the attention! He smiled at them and interjected in their conversation. Then you know what that stupid Birthday Girl did? She arched her back to push out her boobs like a porn star!” Donna yelled into the phone.

“Seriously, why didn’t you do SOMETHING?“ I asked.

“Wait, it gets better. He had to use the bathroom so he stood up and those crazy girls wouldn’t let him walk by. The Birthday Girl got in his face and dared him to move her. He just smiled and said excuse me but I didn’t like the way he said it. He was flirting with her right in front of me!” Donna screamed.

“Please tell me that you left. You should have just left!” I said.

“No, I didn’t leave. Everything was happening so fast and I had a full glass of wine!” Donna said which is a perfectly understandable reason to stay.

“I watched him walk to the bathroom then I watched the Birthday Girl follow him to the unisex bathroom. I kept my eyes on them until my phone beeped and I looked down to read a text. I looked away for just a few seconds and they both disappeared. I wanted to hunt him down but I didn’t want to make a scene. I just sat there like an idiot and waited for him to return. Eventually he did come back and suggested that we go to another bar. I didn’t want go anywhere with him! The Birthday Girl stumbled back to her friends a few seconds later. She said they HAD to leave and fast so they did. I watched him closely then looked over at her and noticed that they stopped flirting. They weren’t even looking at each other.” Donna said.

“That’s really weird. What do you think happened? What did you do?” I asked

“I didn’t want to say or do anything out of fear of looking like a psycho but I couldn’t control myself. I drank my wine in one swallow, looked right into his eyes and asked what the hell happened with that girl. He asked me what I was talking about. I almost slapped him; it would have felt so good if I did. I asked him again, WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BATHROOM WITH THAT GIRL? He started to sweat, his face turned bright red and he smirked and said “nothing”. I swear I thought I was talking to a child so I asked him again. He shrugged his shoulders and did that stupid nervous laugh thing that guys do when they are about to lie. I knew something happened so I asked him again, this time I grabbed the silverware from the bar. I think I scared him because he finally told me that the Birthday Girl grabbed his hat off his head and ran into the bathroom. He said he HAD to run in after her to get it back. He didn’t have a choice.” Donna said.

“You have to be kidding me! What’s wrong with people? I don’t blame the girl. Don’t get me wrong, she was totally acting like an A-hole but he was on a date! Not to mention the fact that he’s in his mid forties. He should have just let her have the stupid hat! What a jackass!” I yelled.

“I don’t’ know what exactly happened in that bathroom but that middle aged liar did something with that girl. He kept insisting that we go to another bar and I kept insisting that he tells me what happened in the bathroom. I know something big happened, why else would they ignore each other when they got back to the bar? I was just about to stab him with a fork when the manager walked over and asked us to leave. I was mortified!” Donna shrieked.

“Wait, that’s weird. Why did the manager ask you two to leave?” I asked

“Some one complained about him and the Birthday Girl. Apparently, they took too long in the bathroom. Can you believe it? I’m so upset about the whole thing!” She said ending her saga.

“Well, I guess you won’t be seeing that guy again.” I said and she laughed.

“You’re right about that! I have to go. I’ll call you back later.” Donna said.

After we hung up, I logged into my on line dating account. I check my new messages and then I saw it: A message from Bathroom Boy.

“I don’t know if you remember me but we met a while ago. I thought you had a great smile and would love to meet you for coffee.”

I almost died! My head raced with the foul things I wanted to say to him. I composed a few replies but went with:

“I can not believe you had the nerve to send me this email. You are too old to be chasing after young girls and too much of a moron to pursue me. Do Donna and me a favor and go fuck yourself. P.S Thank you for the compliment.”

Tea Guy

2011-09-18T17:26:00.003-04:00

After weeding through numerous of predictable emails from potential on-line dates and rejecting many “winks” I found one guy that had potential. He sent me a short and to the point email:

“I read your profile and I’d like meet you if you’re interested.”

The first thing I did after I read his message is what everyone who is dating on-line does, I checked out his pictures. He looked great in his profile photo but not so great in the other three photos he posted. It wasn’t a deal breaker though. I guess one good photo is better than NO good photo. Since he wasn’t repulsive, I went ahead and read the rest of his profile to see if he met my criteria. His profile revealed that he was geographically desirable, age appropriate, employed and educated. He sounded like a winner!

I know my description of this guy doesn’t sound romantic but I wanted a real boyfriend. In order to get one, I had to search strategically for an appropriate mate and he had to have more going for him than just a pretty face. Trust me I love a pretty face just as much as the next girl but I’m done with all that drama. Dating pretty face guys start out with fireworks but end up with me wanting to fill out a missing person report. It’s really no mystery as to why they disappear. Pretty face men have multiple women at their disposal so it’s easy for them to get distracted. It sucks.

This time, I searched for an average guy who has little charisma and a lot of heart. Don’t get me wrong, attraction is very important but I have to be practical. I need a man with substance and who is willing to date me and only me. If that means he is not going to be drop dead gorgeous then so be it. My goal was to meet a normal guy and this blond hair guy fit what I was looking for.

I replied to his message and included my phone number. No sense in doing the email thing for too long. Email relationships are annoying and unfulfilling. If he wanted to meet then he’d have to call me and ask me out like a proper man; which he did.

“This is sort of weird, don’t you think?” He asked when he called later that same night.

I wasn’t sure what he meant by “weird.” I would have asked for clarification but I didn’t want to be rude.

“It really is weird.” I said then giggled out of nervousness.

“You have a cute laugh.” He said which made me more anxious so I giggled again.

I must have sounded like a teenage girl or a mental patient. Either way, I had to stop giggling and fast!

I liked this guy. He was very sweet, easy to talk to and a little flirty. He asked questions about my career and my interests and he was actually listening. It was refreshing to have someone genuinely interested in what I had to say. I couldn’t wait to meet my soon to be boyfriend!

“Where and when do you want to meet?” I asked taking control of the conversation. I didn’t want to get wrapped up in his charm before we met.

“How about Sunday afternoon at that tea bar on Farmington Ave? They have a great tea selection.” He suggested.

This was the first time a guy suggested that we meet for tea but I was into it.

“Sounds great! See you Sunday.” I said then ended the call.

I liked the way that phone call went and I was genuinely excited to meet Tea Guy!

* * *

I ran through the questions I prepared in my head while I drove to the tea bar that Sunday Autumn afternoon. I had a lot riding on this date and I didn’t want to screw it up by not asking the right things. Based on his on-line profile and our one telephone conversation, I knew that he was the right guy for me. Now all I had to do was make this guy realize that I was perfect for him.

“Please look like the good picture.” I whispered to myself as I pulled open the restaurant’s door.

I scanned the nearly empty room and noticed a man that slightly resembled his profile photo sitting in a booth. I knew he wasn’t going to be prettier in person but part of me hoped that his face would have magically changed. It didn’t happen.

I walked towards him with a fake smile and reminded myself that it wasn’t all about appearances. I did my best to hide my disappointment and remembered that I was there to meet a decent man, not a pretty man.

We greeted each other in the usual awkward half hug manner and he suggested that we sit outside. I followed him to the back doors and noticed that he was really tall and I liked that. He chose a table in the corner and our date began. Well, it sort of did.

We sat in silence as we read through the extensive tea menu. I commented on the weather and he grunted. I commented on the menu and he just smiled. I started to panic. One of us had to get this date rolling. The silence was killing me! I thought back on our magical phone conversation to find a topic to talk about.

“Is this still weird?” I asked.

“What do you mean by weird?” He asked which stumped me.

I wanted to say that HE was acting weird! We are not talking and he barley responded to my generic comments. He obviously didn’t remember our telephone conversation. If he did than he would have known that he used the word “weird” first! I wanted to shake him and demand to know what he did with he guy I spoke with on the phone.

“The whole on-line dating thing.” I replied thinking it was a safe answer.

“Not really. I’ve been doing the on-line dating thing for over a year now. It’s not weird at all.” He said.

Well, that was embarrassing. This date was not going well and I think it was because he was just as disappointed in me as I was in him. I wasn’t thrilled about my revelation but there wasn’t anything I could do except to make one last attempt to win him over.

“They serve a lot of types of teas here!” I said enthusiastically.

“Yes they do. I can tell a lot about a person based on the kind of tea they drink.” He said proudly.

“Really? That’s interesting.” I said.

It really wasn’t interesting but at least he started to talk. I hoped that we could get on track and maybe get over whatever it was that disappointed us and fall in love.

“Yeah, it’s fascinating how right I am about the person every time.” He said then asked a series of questions about tea:

“Do you drink tea at home? What’s the most exotic tea you have ever tasted? Did you know that you have to let the tea bag sit in hot water for at least three minutes before drinking it?”

I answered each inquiry with as much excitement as I could muster up. He droned on and on about the correlation between tealeaves and the type of people who drink them. It was painfully boring.

“So, which tea are you thinking of trying?” He asked while our server waited to take our order.

I feared that my choice of tea would seal the deal for this guy so I began to panic. The last thing I wanted to do was seem uncool to the Tea Guy. I thought that he would storm out of there if I didn’t order something trendy. What the hell is a trendy tea? I couldn’t think under all this pressure.

“I’m going to go with Earl Gray.” I said to our server then snapped my menu shut.

“Don’t you want to try something more interesting?” Tea Guy asked with a disapproving look.

I thought about changing my order but then I remembered that I was the one who will be drinking the tea and I wanted Earl Grey. Besides, his tea theory was ridiculous and lame.

"No, I don’t.” I said with a smile.

It became perfectly clear to me that I totally blew it with this guy but I was fine with it. I wanted to get out of there just as badly as he did but neither one of us knew how to do that politely.

“What’s your favorite restaurant?” I asked trying to make the remainder of our date tolerable.

“There’s an Irish place I love down the street from here.” He answered.

“I know that place.” I said

“Do you know the bartender Anne?” He asked

“Yes, I do know Anne.” I replied

His eyes lite up and his face turned red. He started to breath heavily and beads of sweat appeared on his upper lip. I waited for him to compose himself before I asked him how he knew her.

“I met her at the restaurant but I run into her every time I go out. She’s always so nice to me.” He said still blushing.

“Are you dating her?” I asked

“No, I’m not!” He said sternly while he shook his head no.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get too personal.” I said.

“No, it’s ok. I tried to date her but it didn’t work out.” He admitted.

He told me how much he admired her and how beautiful he thought she was. He described her hair and how much he “loved” it when it fell in her face. He also mentioned that he “loved” how petite she was and how much he “loved” her smile. The way he talked about Anne was borderline creepy and completely offensive. His blatant disrespect for me stung but I was able to contain my rage.

He stopped talking for a few seconds to look at me.

“I’m sorry. I’m rambling.” He said

“No, that’s ok.” I said while shaking my leg under the table.

“I just need to tell you this one last thing about her but please don’t let her know I told you this.” He said while he licked his lips.

“What is it?” I asked before I blew on my hot tea.

“Do you want to know what Anne wore at the cocktail party?” He asked.

“Not really but it looks like you’re dying to tell me so go ahead.” I said then sipped my hot tea.

His creepiness quickly morphed into obsession right in front of my eyes as he started to talk about the cocktail party. I noticed tiny veins pulsating on his temples when he asked if I knew what body paint was. I nodded my head yes and waited to hear the rest of this crap.

“Anne has an amazing body.” He said for the tenth time then went into details about every inch of her perfect body.

“How do you know so much about her body?” I asked suspiciously.

“Because I saw it! I ran into her at that cocktail party where the majority of women walked around wearing only body paint, including Anne!” He said.

“What do you mean? Women walked around naked?” I asked

“Yeah but the paint covered all of the important parts. It was thick paint so it was ok.” He said.

“Thank God for thick paint!” I said then called over our server.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.” He said.

“Don’t worry about it.” I said. I couldn’t hide my disappointment any longer.

I asked our server for our tab and she gave it to us right away. Tea Guy picked up the plastic holder and opened it. He took his time going over the charges before he placed the plastic folder with the bill facing up in front of me. The total bill was $5.56. I know this because he pointed to the total and suggested that I leave $3!

I couldn’t believe this jackass! I controlled my urge to slap him and cursed at him in my head. I wanted to ask him if he was serious but I knew that I would have screamed it and I didn’t want to make a scene. I didn’t have any issue with paying however, I did have a problem with the way he placed the bill in front of me! I pulled out $3 from my wallet and placed it on top of the bill.

“You know what. Let me get this, you’re a cheap date.” He said pulling the bill away from me with a stupid smile. I let out a fake laugh and thanked him.

I couldn’t wait to get out of there! He walked me to my car and casually set up another date. I had no intentions of ever seeing Tea Guy again.

I thought about my date on the drive home and wondered why this guy was on a dating site. Clearly he’s in love with Anne. He might have been trying to get over her but wasting my time wasn’t going to work. What Tea Guy really needed to do was get off dating sites, find a good therapist and stop stalking Anne!

I Once Met A Man in Nantucket

2011-08-28T20:32:00.000-04:00

One of the prettiest places in New England is Nantucket. It's located in Massachusetts and a short boat ride away from Cape Cod. This popular vacation spot for many Bostonians looks like a backdrop for a Nautical photo shoot. If you’ve been to Nantucket then you know the type of people that vacation there. For those of you who have never been, there’s only word I could use that best describes the majority these vacationers. Wealthy.

This beautiful Island is inundated with people wearing the bright colors of Lilly Pulitzer and whales from the Vineyard Vines line. Pearly white smiles, hair extensions and Botox runs ramped here along with diamonds and gold. I know it sounds tacky but it’s far from it. For some reason, these people can elegantly pull off the bling. It’s weird.

Once a year this prestige area holds a sailboat race called Figawi. Figawi takes place every Memorial Day weekend and the partying is crazy. I don’t know the history of this race but I do know it draws an incredible amount of people from various income brackets. This particular year, I was on of those people.

My friend Mel grew up in Cape Cod and has lived in Boston for years. Figawi weekend has always been a big deal for her and she usually rents a house for the event. For some reason, she wasn't able to rent a home this year but she still wanted to celebrate the holiday weekend and get to Nantucket at some point. She knew I didn't have any major plans for the long weekend so she invited me to stay with her in Boston.

“Stay the whole weekend. We’ll go over to Nantucket for lunch or something.” Mel said over the phone but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay that long. Not to mention the fact that the only way to get to Nantucket is by boat. Again, I don't like boating.

My initial plan was to drive to Boston Friday night for dinner then return home Saturday. However, once I entered Mel’s home and she handed me an ice cold drink I knew I was staying for the whole weekend.

“My friend is taking us over to Nantucket on his boat tomorrow. We’ll see if we can get a room, just in case.” Mel informed me Saturday night over drinks.

“Sounds good to me!” I said. Clearly I was intoxicated.

Mel’s friend still lives in Cape Cod and owns a huge boat. They have been friends for years and he has always been generous to us girls. The only thing he asks from us is to be punctual and to be neat. So, when he offered to take us over to Nantucket Sunday, we knew we needed to be at his house in the Cape on time. That meant our friend Jan had to wait for us on the busy streets of Boston with her overnight bag.

I worried about the boat ride mostly because I didn’t want to make a mess on his boat. Before I had time to fixate on my fears, we were on a boat and making overnight accommodations.

I know you’re all wondering if I survived. Well, I wore a life jacket and prayed the entire thirty minutes so I was fine. My friends applauded me when we docked and I appreciated their support.

“That was a pleasant surprise. Let’s hope the ride home is also uneventful.” I said as we walked to our hotel.

We headed to lunch after we checked into our room. As we approached the restaurant I noticed a line of people waiting for a table. This was my first time here so I was unaware of the dress code. I had on a $6 summer dress from H&M circa 2007 while everyone around me wore $1000 outfits. I could feel the stares from the women as I walked by them and I will admit that I was a little intimidated. We reached the restaurant and I took my place in line behind a woman wearing a big floppy hat.

“What are you doing?” Mel asked me

“Waiting in line.” I explained.

“We don’t wait in line in Nantucket. “ She said grabbing my hand.

Apparently Mel’s friend is well known here so he gets the VIP treatment. It felt pretty damn good to strut by the swanky ladies.

“Good day.” I said under my breath as I walked by them.

The wait staff in the restaurant made sure they took very good care of us and I didn’t question a thing. The food was amazing, the drinks were delicious and the service was outstanding. We had a blast!

“You girls go have your fun and meet me at Lola 41 for dinner.” He said as we walked through the crowded coble streets. We agreed then synchronized our watches before we went our separate ways.

“Here we go!” Mel said directly to Jan. I simply smiled not knowing what I was in for.

We bounced from one jammed packed bar to another. Jan handed me bright color cocktails while Mel snapped pictures with her camera. After a few drink, I completely forgot the fact that I was among with wealthy.

“Do you want me to take your pictures?” Some guy asked.

“SURE!” Mel replied handing him her camera.

“Spin around in circles a few times.” He said as he snapped pictures. It was odd but we didn’t care, we were having fun.

“Come on! You girls are coming on our boat.” He said leading us out of the bar. Of course we had no choice but to follow the handsome man and his friends.

We exchanged names as we walked to the marina and the usual small talk took place. These guys were loud and a lot of fun. They fit right in with the rest of the crowd. I figured the marina would be a quite compared to the bars but I was wrong. I heard a lot of "WoooHooo" coming from boats that played loud music.
We climbed onto the docked boat and that’s when I saw him; Nantucket Man.

He wasn’t as boisterous as his friends but I was drawn to his shyness. Like many other guys on the island, this 6’4’ blond beauty was covered in Vineyard Wear from head to toe. There was even a Whale stamped on his flip fops!

The usual introductions were made and the flirting began.

“Yeah, I live in New York. Do you ever go to New York?” He asked before flashing his perfect white teeth.

“As a matter of fact I do.” I said wondering if he used white strips.

“You have to come into the city and let me show you around!” He said then described all of the restaurants, museums and sporting events that he would take me to. I hoped that this guy wasn’t screwing with me. He seemed so nice.

“We have to go!” Mel said after she realized the time.

“Take out your phone. Her number is 860-123-4567. Call her later.” Mel instructed Nantucket Man. He took my number and promised to get in touch with me later. Mel, Jan and I jumped off the boat and ran to meet Mel’s friend. We made it right on time.

Nantucket Man sent me a text while we were at dinner.

“What did your gentleman caller send you?” Mel’s friend asked. Of course I had to share my message with everyone at the table and they helped me with my replies.

“He asked to meet me later at 21 Federal.” I informed my friends.

“Looks like you girls are in for a long night. Just meet me at 9am.” He said after dinner.

We met up with Nantucket Man that night. We hung out at 21 Federal for a while before we headed to another place. Throughout the night I found out he worked in finance, hedge funds to be exact, and a Harvard graduate. He lived in NYC for years and loved everything the city had to offer. His blues eyes danced while he described the places he wanted to take me.

“I would love to do all of those things.” I said over the loud music.

“I would love to take you!” He said smiling. Did I mention the fact that he had nice teeth? There was a lot of vodka sodas and a lot of promises made by Nantucket Man that night.

The next morning was painful. We had to meet Mel’s friend at 9am. I volunteered to get ready first but it wasn’t easy. I stepped over an empty pizza box and tried to piece together the events of the previous night. From what I could recall, it was a good night and I met a nice guy. A guy who I planned on seeing again soon.

Nantucket Man sent me a few texts that day and throughout the week. He invited me to the city and I really wanted to go but I didn’t want to commit to an overnight night. Luckily, I have a few friends that live in New York City and I planned on going out to dinner there in a couple weeks. I suggested that he meet me for a drink after I have dinner with my friend and he agreed.

“A Harvard graduate? Did you tell you tell him you’re an Albertus Magnus Graduate?” My friend Kelly asked over lunch a few days before my trip to the City.

“Nope. I’ll have to make sure I stress the fact that I was enrolled in the Accelerated Program. That sounds a little more impressive.” I said. We both laughed knowing that it really wasn’t. As I described Nantucket Man to Kelly it dawned on me; we might not be compatible.

“He sounds nice and all but those rich guys are a different breed. I bet his family is very proper and he smokes expensive cigars after dinner.” I said.

“Oh yeah, totally! But you could hang with that crowd though.” She said.

“You think so?” I asked

“Of course you could! You’re probably the most exciting thing to happen to him. This could be a great thing!” She said which made me feel better.

A few days later I was in my Friend Yasmin’s apartment on the upper east side of New York City. As we prepared to go out to dinner, I expressed my concern about Nantucket Man.

“I know I shouldn’t be intimated but I kind of am.” I confessed.

“Why? He’s a guy, like all of the other guys you know. He just happens to live a comfortable life.” She said trying to put things into perspective.

“Yeah, I know that but I’m not sure if I would be comfortable with someone so upscale. I curse an awful lot in casual conversation.” I said

“I’m sure he swears too. Don’t over think it, lets just meet him tonight. Who knows, he might be the one.” She said as we left her apartment.

The plan was to have Nantucket Man meet us for a drink later that night. Half way through dinner I sent him a text letting him know we were in SOHO. He replied instantly.

“SOHO sucks.” I read it out loud. I looked at Yasmin as she stared at me blankly. My initial reaction was to reply with “Go fuck yourself” but Yasmin thought that was a little too harsh. She helped me compose a non-confrontational text that asked him where he would like to meet. He didn’t give me a straight answer so I let him know that we were going to SOHO Grand then put my phone away. I ignored the multiple beeps that came from my bag.

“I’m not in the mood for games tonight.” I explained to Yasmin.

We headed to SOHO Grand after dinner and made ourselves comfortable on one of the plush coaches. We ordered glasses of Prosecco before we read his text messages. Each one was more ridicules than the last. I won’t bore you with the details so I’ll just list a few of them:

“There’s going to be a line”

“They won’t le me in. I’m wearing what I wore in Nantucket”

“People in SOHO are losers”

“I’m on my way”

“I’m here. I don’t see you.”

I walked around the bar and found him in another room. He gave me a hug hello before I walked him over to where we were sitting.

“So how long have you lived in New York.” Yasmin asked after the introductions were made.

“Too long.” He replied then put his feet up on the table. His response and action shocked us but it didn’t stop Yasmin from asking another question.

“Where about in New York do you live? “ She asked politely.

“Upper East Side.” He barked. The waitress walked over and ask Nantucket Man to remove his feet from the table. I asked her for another drink and so did Yasmin. We knew we would need another one to get through this.

Nantucket Man was visibly upset and said the most offensive things. I will use the word “blank” for each horrible comment he made so you can get an idea of what I mean.

Yasmin: “I live on the Upper East Side.”

Nantucket Man: “No you don’t”

Yasmin: “Yes I do.”

Nantucket Man: “The Upper East Side is God’s country except for all of the BLANKS that live there.”

Yasmin was speechless. She looked at me for help but I didn’t know what to say.

Nantucket Man: “I pay a sickening amount of taxes to live there and for what? Every weekend there is a BLANK or a BLANK parade so of course I can’t ride my bike on my usual route! Those people don’t pay taxes! I should be able to ride my fucking bike whenever I want. I’m going to move to Texas!”

Yasmin looked at me in disbelief as I sat there with my hand over my face. The fowl things that were coming out of this proper man’s mouth surprised the crap out of me. He was the most offensive person I have ever met! I didn’t know what to do so I just sat there quietly, like an idiot, while Yasmin tried to carry on a conversation.

Yasmin: “My family has property in Texas.”

Nantucket Man: “Liar!”

Yasmin stood up, grabbed her drink and looked in shock.

“I give up. He’s an A-Hole.” She said before she walked away.

“Are you ok?” I asked him

“Let’s get out of here.” He said

“I’m not going anywhere but you can leave if you want.” I said

“I can’t. That would be rude and I don’t want to be rude.” He said which stunned me. Did he not hear himself talk the last ten minutes? Everything that came out of his mouth was rude!

“Trust me, nothing is keeping you here. You can leave.” I said pointing to the stairs.

“No. I’ll wait for your friend. We could share a cab. We’ll see if she really lives by me.” He said

I stood up and told him to follow me. I found Yasmin and we left the bar together. We got a cab and Yasmin gave the driver her address.

“You really do live in my neighborhood.” He said.

“Yes I do!” Yasmin replied in a in your face tone. I started to giggle and hoped he didn’t notice but my shoulders gave it away. Yasmin pinched me a few times to get me to stop but it only made me laugh a little harder. I looked over at Nantucket Man. He looked so sad.

“Are you going to cry?” I asked but he didn’t answer me. Yasmin pinched me harder which made me burst into laughter. He asked the cab driver to drop him off first and handed me a fistful of cash.

“It was nice seeing you again.” I said as he got out of the car. He mumbled something under his breath before he shut the door.

I felt really bad for him. Clearly he was an angry man with a lot of unresolved issues. I definitely did not want to be around him or anyone like him.

“So. What did we learn from our bizarre night?” Yasmin asked as we walked up the six flights of stairs to her apartment.

“I will NEVER feel intimidated around ANY man again. I swear he was very sweet the night I met him. I can’t believe how he fooled me!” I said.

“If I wasn’t there to witness his behavior I would never have believed a man like that existed.” Yasmin said.

“These are the guys I attract. I’m so glad you were there so you can see that I don’t make these dates up.” I said.

“I’m glad I was there too but I’m afraid I’m going to run into him out in the street.” Yasmin said laughing.

“I wouldn’t worry about him. I’m sure you’re the last person he ever wants to run into. Besides, he’s going to be moving to Texas soon.” I reminded her. She just laughed and crossed her fingers.

Good Relationships Begin Under the Golden Arches

2011-08-21T21:38:00.000-04:00

Making plans with friends was a lot simpler in 1990. Cell phones didn’t hit the market yet so text messages were unheard of. When someone said; “I’ll call you” that meant they would actually dial my number and speak to me. I remember pacing impatiently in my parent’s kitchen then lunging for the wall phone when it rang. Oh how I miss that tan coil cord.

Our live conversations were sometimes short, simple and to the point and this Friday night was no different.

“Can you drive tonight?” My friend asked.

“Yup. I’ll pick you up. Tell everyone I will be over soon.” I replied then ran out of my parent’s house and into my 1976 red Chevy Malibu. I popped in my dance mix cassette tape and was off to hang out with my friends.

My friends and I weren’t part of the popular crowd in high school and that didn’t change the year after we graduated. We might have not been the cool kids but that didn’t change the fact that we were on a mission that night; we needed to find boyfriends. We didn’t have Facebook or Twitter so in order to “chat” with boys we had to physically leave our homes and ignore them in person.

After I picked up my girlfriends, we headed to where the boys were and that was McDonald’s on South Main Street. We jammed to Regina’s “Baby Love” and talked about the boys we hoped to see. I had a good feeling about that night. I had my eye on Bill for a while and word on the street was that he broke up with his girlfriend. I was thrilled! I drove by him (1990’s version of stalking) in the McDonald’s parking lot every weekend for over a month. One weekend he even talked to me. Ok, so he asked me to pass him napkins because I was standing in front of the dispenser but that still counts! If I didn’t have to be home by 10:30pm, I’m sure we would have talked to me longer.

I know what you’re thinking; “Your curfew was 10:30pm?” The answer to that question is yes. Let me explain, my parents are your typical strict Italian parents. There were and still are many benefits of being a daughter to Italian immigrants. Of course, in 1990 I didn’t recognize these benefits. Back then I just focused on the fact that I wasn’t allowed to date all through high school and going away to college was not an option. You heard me right. Moving out of my parent’s home before my wedding day was more than frowned upon, it simply was not allowed. I was a nineteen-year-old girl with over protective parents (and over protective male cousins but I’m saving that for another story) and going to Community College. I was such a catch.

I drove through the parking lot about a million times this particular Friday night before I parked my car. My friends and I reapplied our makeup and mentally prepared for the intimidating walk through the groups of boys and girls. I spotted Bill standing by the restaurant door and asked my friends to act cool, whatever that meant, when we pass him. They promised that they would.

“There she is!” I heard a boy yell out as the other boys whistled and teased.

“Go up to her!” Said another boy. It sounded like they were referring to us but I wasn’t sure. We didn’t turn around to see who they were talking about incase it wasn’t us. Last thing we wanted to do was turn around to find out they were cat calling another group of girls. That would have been social suicide so we talked among ourselves as we walked into McDonald’s.

Bill walked in right after we did and stood behind us in line. He cleared his throat a few times and spoke loudly with his friends.

“What is she ordering?” His friend asked out loud.

"I don't know." Bill replied.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Another friend suggested.

“Hey! What are ordering?” Bill asked. There was no doubt that he was talking to me but I was paralyzed with fear so I ignored him, naturally.

My friends and I walked over to a booth to eat our cheeseburgers, fries and chicken nuggets.

“Why did you ignore him?” My friend asked under her breath.

“I have no idea.” I replied then squeezed ketchup on my cheeseburger wrapper.

Bill walked up to us and asked if he could join us. I felt my face turn red and I wanted to say yes but for some reason, I couldn’t get the words from my brain to my mouth. He stood in front of us, holding his tray of food, waiting for my response.

“Say something.” My friend said then pinched me.

I still couldn’t talk. All I could do was shake my head yes, which I did. My friends moved over so he could sit next to me. That was it; we were inseparable for the next few years.

The best thing about Bill was that understood how strict my parents were. He respected my parents and made sure not to do anything to upset them. I was always home on time, which my parents liked, and Bill talked to my father about gardening, which I liked.

We did the typical dating things; we went to theme parks, county fairs, movies and out to dinner. Our group of friends also understood my dating restrictions. It upset me when I had to go home early every time we went out but they never made me feel like a loser. I tried to have as much fun as I could with the limited time I had. Eventually, my curfew changed to midnight.

I was never a big drinker mostly because I was afraid to go home drunk. I wasn’t sure how my parents would handle a hung-over daughter and I was not about to test it. Bill, on the other hand, enjoyed drinking and has his share of drunken stories. He was amusing at times but being the sober one in a group of drunks wasn’t always that much fun. Don’t get me wrong; I had my share of purple passion but my party ended earlier than the rest of my friends because I needed to get home.

“What will happen if you get home a little late?” Bill asked one night

“I don’t want to find out.” I replied.

“Ok, how about I promise to get you home on time, like I always do, if you promise to get drunk and have fun?” He asked.

“Are you implying that I’m not fun?” I asked sadly.

“Nope, not at all. I just think you should get drunk just for tonight.” He said before introducing me to Gold Scholgger.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to abandon my favorite purple color cocktail for a gold-flaked beverage. However, the sparkles that came from the shot glass did look appealing so I took a shot. It burned the back of my throat but after the third shot, and my throat and the rest of my body became numb so I kept drinking.

I don’t know how many shots I did nor do I have any recollection of how the rest of the night went. I do remember Bill asking me to stop vomiting in the parking lot.

“I would if I could.” I slurred back to him before getting into his car.

I was so annoying the whole ride home. I vaguely remember praying out loud because I truly thought I was dying. If I didn’t drop dead in his car, I knew my parents were going to kill me when I got home. Either way, I was convinced I was a goner that night. My prayers intensified the closer we got to my home and I became more annoying.

“Will you please just shut up?” Bill said a few times which only made me cry and pray louder.

He somehow managed to get to my house before my curfew.

“You’re home. Get out.” He said leaning over my seat to open the door from the inside. I wanted Bill to walk me in my house because I really needed his help.

“No way! Your father will kill me if he knew that I got you drunk.” He said then gently pushed me out of his parked car.

“Please, just get out. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” He pleaded still trying to get me out of his car, quietly.

I mentally wanted to get out of his car on my own but I physically couldn’t do it.

“Look the main lights are off, my parents are sleeping.” I pointed out to him as my last attempt to get help from him.

“Fine, I’ll help you. Promise me you’ll be quite.” He pleaded then and walked over to my side of the car and opened the door. I poured out of his front seat and Bill collected me off my parent’s sidewalk. We walked slowly through my parents front lawn. When we got to the door, I looked at him and said, “Oh my God, I’m going to get sick!” And started to cry again.

“Please, please, please, please stop crying and wait until I leave before you throw up.” He begged.

“I can’t!” I whispered loudly.

“Just walk me down the street. I’ll throw up in the bushes.” I continued in what I thought was a softer whisper while tugging on his jacket.

“Are you crazy? No way! I've got to get out of here and fast!” He said then opened the front door with my key.

I looked in my parent’s dark living room and then at Bill.

“I’m so sorry. It was nice knowing you.” I said then proceeded to vomit violently all over my parent’s tiled living room floor. Bill looked at me then at the vomit.

“I’m so sorry it had to end this way.” He said then got the hell out of there.

Part of me couldn’t believe that he left me but a bigger part of me wish he took me with him.

I heard my parents jump out of their bed and running down the hallway.

“TAKE ME WITH YOU!” I shouted out the front door but it was too late. He skidded off in his Camaro and left me standing in my own vomit with my confused parents.

I tried to tell my parents that I had food poisoning but the gold flakes and the smell of cinnamon made it an incredible excuse.

“You’re drunk.” My mother said and helped me to my room. She continued to lecture me on the dangers of alcohol and my father joined in. They scolded me days after the incident and I promised to never drink again.

A week or so later, Bill reappeared. He capitalized on the situation and told my parents that he tried to stop me from drinking.

“What are you doing?” I asked him after he took my parent's side in front of me. I couldn't believe he threw me under the bus like that!

“Agreeing with your parents. They’ll love me, watch.” He said and it worked.

Bill and I dated for about four years. Like I said, things were simpler in 1990.

Too Good To Be True

2011-08-14T16:40:00.000-04:00

I stepped over a pile of clothing that sat in the middle of my bedroom floor. My 4inch heel got caught on a sweater so I reached over to my dresser to stop my fall. I leaned down towards my feet to pull off my stilettos. I admired them for a few minutes before closing my eyes to fight back the tears.

I pulled open a drawer in search for my oversized Tee shirt and shorts. I couldn’t wait to put on my security outfit and stop sucking in my stomach. I changed into my frumpy outfit and threw my “good” jeans on top of the dresser then headed into the bathroom.

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror above my bathroom sink. I pulled my hair back into a lazy ponytail and turned on the faucet. I ran my fingers under the warm water while sadness overcame me. This wasn’t the first time a guy cancelled a date but this is the first time it hurt this badly. I thought he was just as excited to see me as I was about seeing him. He told me he couldn’t wait to see me. He told me he had something special planned. I trusted him.

We met at a cocktail party on a cool spring night. He was beautiful. His deep blue eyes sparkled when he spoke and his warm smile captivated me. He complimented my black dress and I thanked him. He commented on my drink and I commented on his. He didn’t leave my side while we were at the party and I was glad that he didn’t. We exchanged phone numbers at the end of the night and he called the next day to invite me to dinner but I wasn’t available. He called three days later and asked if we could meet for a drink but I couldn’t. He called a week later and asked to meet me for coffee. I accepted.

A few weeks later I found myself staring at him from across a candle lit table in an empty restaurant. We talked about the day we met for coffee and he confessed that he was nervous. We talked about a movie we saw and he told me he was intrigued by the way I analyzed the true meaning of the story line. We talked about the drive we took down the shore for fried clams and he said he loved the way I ate. I laughed out loud and asked if I shared because I couldn’t remember if I did. He didn’t answer my question instead he said he loved my smile and that my laugh was infectious. I blushed and thanked him.

“You looked stunning the night we met. I loved your red dress.” He said confidently after the waiter poured wine into our glasses. I waited for him to say he was joking but he didn’t.

“I wore a black dress.” I said correcting him. I wondered how someone as observant as he seemed to be make such a mistake. My gut told me leave but his charisma enticed me to stay.

A month later he introduced me to his friends and I introduced him to mine. “Don’t we make a great couple?” He asked each time an introduction was made. His friends agreed that we did. My friends were suspicious of him.

He was perfect. He said my happiness was his priority and he showed me every day. He always called when he said he would and never made promises that he couldn’t keep. Before I knew it, our dates were assumed and every date was spectacular.

“I want to take you to restaurant in New York that I think you’ll love.” He said one night over another romantic dinner in my favorite restaurant.

“I also want to take you to Italy and spend time in Brazil with you. I think you’ll love Brazil.” He continued and I was ready to go.

“Wow, you have big plans for us.” I said smiling.

“You have no idea. I can picture our future and it is picture-perfect.” He said then leaned in to kiss me. It was all too much too fast but I didn’t care, I liked the attention.

He praised me everyday. He commented on how strong our relationship was and how lucky he was to have met me. He said he never felt a connection as strong as ours before in his life. He said he loved me in month three. I told him I loved him too but thought it was too soon.

Things changed in month four. His phone calls lessened and his schedule became more complex. Our weekends together were cut short and our weeknight dates became sporadic. I knew what he was doing but I didn’t want to face it. I wasn’t ready to lose my perfect relationship. I analyzed every word he said and his reaction to what I said. I studied each head nod and eye roll and later scrutinized the conversation that surrounded each action. I made an effort to only say what I thought he wanted to hear and became available to him when it was inconvenient for me to prolong the inevitable.

I rarely left my phone behind in month four. When I missed his call I would call him back within minutes but my calls always went to his full voicemail.

“It would be easier if we just text each other.” He suggested after an argument.

“What do you mean by easier?” I asked but his explanation was nonsensical.

It was difficult but I communicated with him only by text messages. He replied hours or even days later and it broke my heart. I tried to talk to him about my feelings but he said I was being crazy. I wasn’t crazy. I was hurt. I had an unbelievable urge to drive to his house and beg him for answers but I was better than that. He was fading away and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

“Ok, I understand. When can we see each other again?” I heard my voice ask after he cancelled a Thursday night date.

“Saturday. It’s only two days away! I’ll plan something special.” He said which gave me a glimmer of hope.

“What do you mean by special?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise.” He said then told me he loved me.

Tonight is Saturday and I feared that this would be our last night together. He needed to see the person he fell in love with only weeks earlier. He needed to remember how unique our connection was. I carefully applied my makeup, styled my hair and put on the outfit I purchased the night before. I eagerly ran down my stairs then walked franticly around my living room hearing my heels click with every step. My dog Emma starred at me and then at my shoes as I looked for her leash.

I hurried passed my coffee table and grabbed my phone. I got Emma ready for her last walk of the night then checked the time. It was 7:53pm. He was going to be here at 8pm. I had minutes to pull myself together.

While Emma looked for the ideal spot, I scrolled through my phone. There were multiple texts from him:

Message number one, time 7:04pm: “I’m running late, actually, it’s not looking good. I’m not cancelling, just saying I won’t be on time.” I felt a pit in my stomach.

Message number two, time 7:15pm: “Jumping in the shower. I can’t wait to see you again. Hope you’re wearing that red dress you wore the night we met.”

“It was black.” I said softly to myself and took in a deep breath. There was still hope for tonight.

Text message number three time 7:39pm: “I’m so sorry, I won’t be able to make it. I really want to see you but something came up. Please understand. I’m so into you.”

I felt the air escaping my lungs as his words started to sink in. Our date is off. The pit in my stomach developed into a lump in my throat.

Text message number four, time 7:47pm: “I just wanted to make sure you got my texts. I am so sorry. I miss you and promise to make it up to you. Please let me know you got this.”

I stood still in my yard contemplating whether or not to reply while Emma chased leaves. If I did reply, would it change the fact that he wasn’t coming? I desperately wanted to know the reason why he cancelled but I was afraid to ask. Not because I couldn’t handle the truth, I just knew that I wouldn’t get it. I ran hundreds of imaginable scenarios in my head and finally realized that the reason was not important. I’m simply not a priority to him anymore and he has moved onto someone else who is.

I received his last text message at 8:03pm: “Hey, I know you’re upset so you don’t have to reply. Actually, I won’t be able to respond if you do. I know you understand.”

I didn’t understand. The excitement of seeing him and the anticipation of our special night came to an end. I felt defeated and exhausted.

I pulled the barely worn contacts from my eyes and tossed them into the wastebasket. I cupped my hands under the running water and collected enough to splash onto my face. I pulled my wet hands away and observed the array of colors settling into the creases of my hands and then into my sink leaving an oily film. I gently removed the black mascara from under my eyes and scrubbed my face clean. I lifted my head from the sink and came face to face with my reflection again. I stared at my puffy red skin behind the water droplets and the memories our entire relationship ran through my head. The fact that our relationship was over killed me.

I splashed one last handful of water on my face and turned off the faucet. The soft towel on my freshly cleaned face comforted me a bit. I folded the towel and rested it on the side of the sink then walked out of my bathroom. I slipped into bed with Emma and turned on the TV. I pulled the sheets over my shoulder as I curled into the fetal position. I was content for a few minutes. I moved to reposition myself under the covers and the scent from my perfume crept into my nose. The pretty aroma reminded that I was supposed to be on a special date tonight and not home alone. I cried myself to sleep.

He eventually did fade away and I’m sure he was glad I accepted his actions quietly. I thought about fighting for the survival of our relationship but I didn’t. I learned a long time ago that there is no point in chasing after a man who doesn’t want to be chased.

The Ambiguous Suitor

2011-08-06T17:43:00.000-04:00

“Do you like Jazz music?” He asked.

“I do.” I replied and it wasn’t a lie.

“The Litchfield Jazz Festival is going on this weekend. Would you like to go?” He asked. My heart raced with excitement but I didn’t want him to know it.

“Sure. It sounds like fun.” I replied calmly.

“Great! I’ll pick you up in a hour.”

“In an hour?” I asked in a panic.

“Yeah, in an hour. Do you have any snacks?” He asked while my mind raced. I couldn’t be ready in an hour! It takes more than an hour to get ready for a date! I immediately ran upstairs and dove into my closet.

I noticed that my toes were in desperate need of a pedicure but there was no time for that. I took a step back from my closet in disgust. I didn’t have anything to wear but a trip to the mall was out of the question so I continued to search for the perfect outfit. I then remembered that there was a lot of plucking and shaving that needed to get done! I had to get off the phone and fast if I was going to be ready for this date!

“Snacks, do you have any? We could stop at the deli if you don’t.” He suggested as I desperately pulled a few dresses out of my closet.

“The deli is a good idea. I’ll see you in an hour.” I said before I hung up and ran into the bathroom.

I met this guy the usual way; he hit on me in a bar. We exchanged numbers and went out a few times but I couldn’t tell if he liked me. He was tall, blond and gorgeous not to mention very charming but I couldn’t tell if he liked me liked me. We met for lunch a few times and I couldn’t read him. Our dinner dates weren’t earth shattering. They weren’t boring just not overly stimulating. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to date me or just be my friend whatever his intentions were, I started to really like him.

We met for drinks after work one day and he walked me to my car at the end of the night like he has done many times before. This time though, he leaned in and gave me a kiss goodbye. I was surprised and relieved; a friend would not have kissed me that way. I assumed he wanted to date me and I was ok with that!

We got together a few nights after the big kiss night. I tried to flirt with him but he didn’t bite. I thought he wasn’t into me and that maybe he was drunk when he kissed me the other night or worse; maybe he thought I was a bad kisser! I drove away that night thinking I would never hear from him again but I was wrong. We had dinner a few more times and sometimes he kissed me goodnight and sometimes he didn’t. It was very confusing so I stopped trying to figure it out.

When he called me this Saturday to invite me to the Jazz Festival, I was pleasantly surprised. I was determined to figure out what type of relationship he wanted. I was fine with just being friends but I would have preferred to be his girlfriend.

He showed up exactly one hour after our telephone conversation and I was ready. He walked into my condo, gave me a big hug and a make out session commenced. I felt like a teenager making out for the first time! I pulled away before things we got carried away and walked to my storage closet. I grabbed a picnic basket and a blanket. I also took a bottle of wine from my wine cellar (AKA my kitchen counter) and we were off.

We stopped at the local deli and packed my basket with sandwiches, fruit and more wine.

“This is going to be a good day.” He said then gave me a kiss on my cheek.

“I think it will be too.” I replied. It looked like my Ambiguous Suitor was coming around.

The hour ride to Litchfield went very well. We laughed a lot and he put his hand on my leg while he drove. All good signs!

We found a parking spot quickly. He carried the picnic basket and I carried a blanket, it was the least I can do.

“Let’s get as close to the stage as possible.” He suggested as he lead the way.

We walked by so many couples sitting on blankets and drinking wine. It may have been early afternoon but there was a lot of romance in the air. I paid attention to every move The Ambiguous Suitor made and listened to every word he said. I needed to make sure our make out session wasn't just a fluke.

“How’s this spot?” He asked pointing to a grassy area.

“Perfect.” I said rolling the blanket out.

We made ourselves comfortable before pouring wine into the wine glasses and he kissed me again! He rubbed my back a few times and brushed my hair away from my eyes. I thought he was adorable and treated me so nicely.

He asked if I was enjoying myself as he handed me the other half of his sandwich. I told him I was and handed him a napkin. I made a comment about the weather and how nice it was to see so many happy couples around us. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say.

“Wait a minute. This is kinda feeling like a date. I want to make sure you know that we are NOT on a date.” He said which surprised me.

I looked down at the picnic basket, the two partially filled wine glasses and my freshly shaved legs. It looked like we were on a date to me.

“I’m sorry. I’m confused. We are NOT on a date?” I asked.

“Ah, no we are not.” He replied.

“I’m sorry but I’m confused. What is going on then?” I asked. I was so embarrassed. How could I have misunderstood his actions?

“I just thought you would like to spend a nice day outdoors.” He said then stood up.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before he walked away.

So, there I was sitting alone on a blanket, surrounded by hundreds of couples snuggling with each other. I did what any other upset single girl would have done in my shoes, I poured myself another glass of wine then opened the other bottle. I really wanted to cry but decided to try to eat everything in the basket instead.

Thirty minutes went by and he wasn’t back. I looked around the crowded field but I couldn’t find him. For a minute I worried that he left me there. I franticly looked for his keys on the blanket and was relieved when I found them. I slipped the keys into my purse and hoped that he would return soon.

Another thirty minutes went by and he was still missing. I needed to use the restroom so I got up and headed towards the concrete building. I’m not going to lie; I was feeling the wine and the sun beating on me didn’t help my intoxicated condition. I staggered into the bathroom then took my time walking back to our spot. I wanted him to know how it felt to be left alone but he was not there. I couldn’t believe that he abandoned me! The fact the “we were NOT on a date” was irrelevant. He should not have left me at alone at this festival. I desperately wanted to go home. Part of me wanted to leave him there, I did have the keys but I decided to look for him instead.

It took a while but I found him, playing Frisbee with a group of girls. I was furious! He left me alone for over an hour so he could frolic with a group of girls!

“Hey! What are you doing?” I yelled.

“Playing Frisbee. Are you having fun?” He asked still tossing the plastic disk.

“No! I am not having fun. I want to go home and I want to go home now!” I shouted.

“What? Why? I’m not ready to leave yet.” He said and the girls giggled.
I wanted to fight every girl there. He was making me look like a fool and I did not like that at all. I snapped.

I’m not sure what I said exactly but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t shy with the profanity. I know I wasn’t acting lady like but I didn’t care at this point. I was livid.

He didn’t stop playing and it irritated me. I ran in the middle of the game, jumped up and grabbed the Frisbee midair. I struggled to snap it in half but I couldn’t so I tried to fling it in the woods. I said, “try” because I’m a bad Frisbee thrower, it landed next to my feet. It wasn’t my proudest moment in life.

He said his goodbyes to the girls and angrily walked back to the blanket with me. We collected our things and then marched to his car. We exchanged a few heated words but then I stopped talking. I gave up on trying to get him to see my side. He clearly didn’t understand why I was upset and couldn’t wait to drop me off.

Like my relationship with The Ambiguous Suitor the lesson learned from this experience is still unclear. The only true moral I could come up with is not to drink red wine in the sun. Next time I’ll pack a cooler with beers.

Living THE DREAM!!! fall 1997ish

2011-07-24T22:55:00.000-04:00

Dating in my twenties was so different than dating in my thirties. I was young and naïve and didn’t think that little white lies were such a big deal. One of those little white lies was pretending to love football. I don’t have a logical explanation as to why I fibbed about this. The only stupid excuse I could come up with is desperation. In my young delusional mind I thought that I could learn to love this sport therefore spend more time with my man. This facade didn’t work earlier with an ex boyfriend. I told him I loved football but he didn’t believe me. He was a Giants fan but I never paid attention to the game. Whenever my ex-boyfriend “had to watch The Giants,” I would complain and question his devotion to me. What I should have done was sit my ass down and watched it with him. At least I would have been prepared to lie to my next boyfriend.

“YES! I LOVE spending all day Sunday, Monday nights and Thursday nights sitting in front of a TV to watch a game!” I told Pax (Also known as my biggest mistake) over dinner one night.

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite team?” Pax asked.

Luckily for me he had on silver and black Tee shirt on with a picture of a football and the word “Raiders” splashed on the front of it.

‘The Raiders, of course!” I proclaimed. He believed me.

I met Pax at the gym. He was that loud obnoxious guy that all of the girls tried to flirt with. I played it cool and he eventually asked me out to dinner. I made sure to say all of the right things that night so he would fall in love with me.

“WOW! That’s awesome! Not many girls like football and the ones that I’ve met who do watch football love The Giants or The Patriots. You’re a one of a kind girl. You’re the kind of girl I would marry.” He said.

That’s all I needed to hear. He wanted to marry me, a huge Raiders fan. I learned a lot about the team in a very short time, I had no choice. About two months into our relationship he invited me to The Meadows to watch a Raiders and Giants game. I was excited and prepared.

“I would never ask a girl to a football game but you’re different. I think you’ll have a great time.” He said as he handed me a plastic shopping bag.

I looked into the bag and eagerly pulled out an oversized Raiders sweat shirt. I immediately pulled it on over the shirt I was wearing.

“It looks great on you!” Pax said while I posed for him. My plan worked, he was falling in love with me.

Two years later I discovered other aspects of football. For example, there are football fans and there are crazy football fanatics. Pax was a crazy fanatic. He yelled at the TV, throw things across the room and get into fights at bars all over a game of football. I was shocked the first few times I witnessed his adolescent behavior but became accustom to his antics. It was pathetic.

“Let’s go to California! We’ll go see a game in Oakland. We could both live out our dreams, together!” Pax said one Sunday afternoon still thinking I was a Raiders fan. I’ve always wanted to go to California so I agreed.

I insisted on staying in San Francisco instead of Oakland, he agreed. Our hotel was near pier 39 and I wanted to get something to eat. Pax wanted to rest up before the game.

“The game is tomorrow, why can’t we go out tonight?” I asked after we checked into our room.

“I don’t want to be tired. It’s going to be a long day. We need to rest. Don’t you want to be fresh for the game? It’s not everyday that people get to live out their dreams.” He explained, as he got ready for bed. We went to sleep.

The excitement on Pax’s face the next morning was annoying.

“I want to make sure we have everything.” He said while stuffing crap into a duffel bag.

“What do we have to bring? We are going to a football game.” I asked him suspiciously. “Be careful what you put in that thing, you don’t want to carry a heavy bag all day. Besides, they are going to search that thing.” I said trying to see what he was packing.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll carry it.” He said as he finished packing then headed to the door. He was determined to bring that bag with us. At this point, I really didn’t care what he put into that bag. I just wanted to get this day over with so we can eat on Pier 39.

“Come on, we have to catch the bus.” He said with a big smile.

We took a bus to the subway and the subway to the football stadium. Pax made a few friends along the way. He was having such a good time with his fellow Raider fans. It was kind of cute. When the subway stopped moving, Pax's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Are we actually here?” Pax asked out loud.

“Yes we are my friend!” Replied the guy behind us then they gave each other a high five.

As we stepped onto the platform Pax’s body literally started to tremble. “Are you going to be ok?” I asked him.

“Yeah. How are you doing? Are you just as happy as I am right now?” He asked in a stoic voice.

“Oh, yeah. Totally!” I replied remembering that I was a Raiders fan too.

We walked among hundreds of Oakland Raider fans. I could see we were getting closer to the stadium so I got our tickets ready as we approached the entrance gate. I couldn’t stop staring at Pax; I have never seen him or anyone else get this excited about anything before.

“We are so close to living our dream.” He said over and over again. I simply smiled.

The security guys looked through Pax’s bag, looked at me then smiled before letting us through.

“Why is security smiling?” I asked Pax still trying to figure out what he put in that bag.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said leading us through the gate.

Once we got inside, Pax suddenly stopped walking and just stood there in silence.

“Are you ok?” I asked him. It took a while but he shook his head yes.

He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me into him. With my face buried into his muscular chest, he took in long deep breaths. He started to say something a couple of times but stopped himself. I didn’t want to ruin this moment so I stood there in silence. Minutes went by and the two of us just stood there, embracing, as people walked around us.

“Pax, um, can we go in the actual stadium please?” I asked him trying to peal myself away from him. He eventually released me, rested his hands on my shoulders and gazed into my eyes. It looked as if he was about to say something very important. Then it hit me. He was going to propose! Maybe this was the moment he was referring to when he said he was living his dream. I got so exciting at the thought of him proposing marriage to the love of his life in the one place in the world he loved. My heart started pounding like crazy and my face beamed with joy.

A voice in my head screamed; “ASK ME!! SAY IT!!” While I stared back into his eyes. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and finally said; “Honey.” Then paused for a moment.

“Yes.” I sang trying to contain my excitement. He stood quietly, looked at me lovingly and took in another deep breath.

“Are you ok Pax?” I asked hoping he would propose already. He slowly shook his head yes.

“I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” He finally said then kissed my forehead before he walked away with his bag. I was disappointed and confused. Where was my proposal? Didn’t he have a ring in that bag? Is being at a Raiders game in Oakland really his dream?

After coming to terms with the fact that Pax was not going to propose, I sat and waited for him outside the men’s room. He was taking way too much time in there but I was fine with that. I needed to recover from the last fifteen minutes of my life.

I searched the crowd for my boyfriend but I couldn’t find him. Rather than pacing back and forth in front of the men’s room, I decided to enjoy the scenery and sat on a bench. Even though I had little interest in this sport, I actually enjoyed watching the excitement on everyone’s face. There were families and couples all having a great time getting ready for the big game. Laughter and chatter filled the air along with the smell of popcorn and French fries. Watching people always entertained me but today it made me feel like I was a part of something special. I had a feeling this was going to be a great day after all.

I started to worry when thirty minutes went by and still no Pax. I stood up and cupped my hands over my eyes to shield them from the sun. A man whose walk was strikingly similar to Pax’s emerged from the bathrooms. It could have been him but I didn’t think this person was MY Pax. The figure started to shout out my name but I still didn’t recognize him. You see this man’s face was painted. Yes, I said it. He painted his face. His left side was silver and the right was painted black. In addition to the face painting, he changed into his “lucky” Raider’s gym paints, the ones with the multiple holes in the butt area. He also wore a football jersey with silver spikes coming out of the shoulders.

“You’re mad.” He stated when reached me.

I didn’t know what to say. All that I could utter was; “What are you doing?”

Pax raised his arms up in the air, threw his head back and screamed as loud as he could; “I’m living the dream baby! I’m living the dream! WoooHoooo!!” I didn’t want to ruin this man’s “Dream” so I didn’t say a word.

He slapped everyone high fives as they walked by us. He laughed and frolicked with the other Raider’s fans. Some people even stopped to have their picture taken with him. It was all so strange but not as strange as when he would shout out; “I’M LIVING THE DREAM BABY! I’M LIVING THE DREAM!” It was about the fiftieth time that he screamed out those words that I mentally checked out and started to drink, heavily.

Once we found our seats and the game began, his fanatic behavior escalated. It got so bad that he actually got into a screaming match with a woman. I wanted to die. Somehow the guys next to us got him to calm down. The same guys were kind enough to point out the fact that Pax had painted the colors on the wrong side of his face. You see, the silver was supposed to be on the right side the black was supposed to be on the left. Well, that threw him into a tizzy.

“Give me your mirror.” He demanded. I handed him my compact and held in my laughter. “I MESSED IT UP!!” He screamed. “This is your fault! I thought you were going to yell at me so I had to rush.” At first I wanted to punch him in his silver and black face but then I realized that his mistake was the best revenge.

“It’s wrong, it’s all wrong!” He was devastated, I tried so hard not to be jerk but I could help myself.

“So, does this mean you’re no longer living the dream?” I asked but he was not amused. He did become quite though, for about five minutes. I didn’t break up with him after this trip. Maybe I should have.

The Ritz

2011-07-18T23:15:00.000-04:00

I met Donna at the reservoir Saturday morning for our weekly walk. I look forward to our walks for two reasons: exercise and mental rejuvenation. Like me, Donna is single and is searching for the perfect guy. Sometimes we run dating scenarios by each other to make sure we don’t end relationships prematurely or prolong the inevitable. Once in a while, we all need a supportive friend to help us through a difficult decision. Today was one of those days.

“How are things going with that new guy?” She asked referring to the guy I was dating for the past three months.

“I think I have to end it.” I said reluctantly.

“Why? I thought things were going well and I really like him.” She said reminding me that she was there the night we met. If it wasn’t for Donna’s desperate pleads to be her date for the fundraising event I would have never met him.

“I’m the one that encouraged you to date him. He’s cute, age appropriate, very nice and he wore a custom made tuxedo. There aren’t many guys out there that can afford to do that.” She said trying to convince me to stick it out.

“Didn’t you two go away together last week?” She asked keeping the conversation going.

“Not really. I was away on business for a few days and he met me there. He set up a meeting with his colleagues at the same hotel. I was surprised when he told me since my company put me up at the Ritz Carleton.” I said trying to change the subject. I started to describe my hotel room and all of the amenities. I even talked about the weight room where I never stepped foot in.

“I know all about The Ritz. So tell me, what happened with him?” She asked.

“I can’t tell you.” I said

“Why not?” She asked

“Because if I tell you, you would have no choice but to tell me to end things and I’m not 100% sure if I should yet.” I said still stalling. I promised myself that I would never repeat what I saw that night.

“Spill it.” She said then stopped walking.

We stood in the middle of one of the trail for a few seconds as I contemplated telling her what really happened. I’ve never witnessed anything that distressing in my life and I needed more time to process it. The look on Donna’s face told me that I ran out of time. She refused to move until I told her what I was struggling to say.

“Fine, he used foot fungus spray!” I blurted then buried my face in my hands in embarrassment.

“So? What’s wrong with that?!” She asked while throwing her hands in the air.

“There’s nothing wrong foot spray if he sprayed his feet with it!” I said which confuse her more. I could see her trying to figure out the rest of the story.

“Where did he spray it?” She asked quietly.

“He used it on his genitals. He said that it helps with something but I couldn’t hear him over the screaming coming from my head.” I said anticipating laughter or maybe some words of advice.

“How do you know?” She asked fighting the urge to laugh out loud.

“You would think that he would be smart enough to do something that gross in the privacy of the bathroom but he didn’t!” I said.

“I’m afraid to ask but I need to know. How do you know he sprayed his junk?” Donna asked eagerly waiting to hear the whole story.

“Ok. So he took a shower in my room because his room wasn’t ready when he got there. I sat on the bed and read through the pamphlets I collected from the conference while I waited for him to get ready for dinner. He walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He had a can of foot spray in his hand and shook the hell out of it while walking around the room. He then proceeded to put his right foot on the bed in front of me. I looked up to ask him something but I stopped when I saw him reach down between his legs and sprayed. I saw a huge white cloud escaping the confinements of his towel. That alone was disgusting but then he shook things around to adjust himself. I was shocked!” I described the whole incident and I have to admit, it felt great talking about it.

“Well, that’s not proper Ritz Carleton behavior.” Donna said apathetically.

“No, it really isn’t.” I said agreeing with her. "Maybe if we were dating a little longer or even started to fart in front of each other I wouldn't be this upset. We haven't done anything that resembled longterm relationship behavior. Applying foot fungus spray between your legs is not a way to break us into that." I said trying to explain myself.

“How was dinner?” Donna asked.

“We never went out to dinner. I developed a headache and asked him to leave. The Ritz has amazing room service though!” I said.

“I bet they do. Have you talked to him since then?” She asked.

“Nope. I think he was mad at me because I asked him to leave. I probably could have gone to dinner with him but I just couldn’t get that image out of my head! I think it’s over.” I said

“I think you might be right.” Donna said before suggesting that we go out for drinks later that night.

The Average Looking Guy

2011-07-05T21:42:00.000-04:00

My friend Lisa called one summer night.

“We are renting a house on Block Island for a week. Are you in?” She asked.

“How would I get there?” I asked.

“What do you mean? The ferry!” She said. “Get a prescription or something. You’ll be fine, it’s only a thirty minute ride from Point Judith, Rhode Island.” She continued knowing how much I dislike boats.

“Ugh!! A Ferry? Really? I’m not sure what scares me more, potentially drowning or vomiting.” I said reminding Lisa of my fears.

“Tell me again, what happened last time you were on a boat?” She asked

“I felt like I was going to die.” I replied

“Did you?” She asked.

“No.” I answered quietly.

“That’s what I thought. Suck it up lady! It’s going to be fun.” She said.

My schedule didn’t allow me to take an entire week off from work so I agreed to meet the girls midweek.

“I’m going over with Michelle and Jen. Kelly is taking her truck so she’ll pick you up at the dock Thursday.” Lisa said

“Perfect! I’ll see you all Thursday afternoon!” I said after our plan was finalized.

I started my workday extra early that Thursday but I still ran late. The plan was to change out of my wrap around dress and four-inch heels between sales calls but that didn’t happen. After a productive day of sale calls I arrived at Point Judith wearing my professional outfit instead of the cute shorts and T-shirt I planned on changing into.

I yanked my suitcase from my car and hurried to take my place in line. I towered over the people wearing flip-fops and I was envious. My feet were killing me and I knew that I looked pretentious standing next to everyone. I felt compelled to explain my attire to the cute guy behind me.

“I wanted to change but didn’t have time.” I said but he didn’t seem interested.

“You’re up.” He said and that was the end of my poor attempt of small talk.

The next ferry wasn’t leaving for over an hour so I rolled my suitcase over the gravel road and into the restroom. I freshened up my makeup, pulled my hair back in a ponytail and stuck a motion sickness patch behind my ear. I read the instructions on the patch’s insert and it said to place it behind my ear four hours prior to the trip. I was a little concerned but reminded myself that I was fine during my last boating excursion. I stuck the patch on anyways figuring it was better than not wearing it at all.

I was about to change into my vacation wear but a group of high school girls walked into the bathroom. The annoying giggling was somewhat tolerable but the screeching and hugging got to me. I walked out still wearing my dress. I could have changed into my flip-flops but that would have looked ridiculous.

I still had time to kill. I bought an order of French fries from a run down shack and sat on a bench near the docks.

“May I sit next to you?” Asked a man carrying a huge bucket of fried food.

“Of course.” I said moving my suitcase to make room for him.

“How long are you going to be on Block Island?” He asked between bites.

“Through the weekend. What about you?” I asked The Average Looking Guy and that’s when the innocent flirting started.

“How can you walk in those shoes?” He asked smiling.

“It’s not easy but I think I do ok.” I replied.

“Yes you do. I noticed you pulling your luggage everywhere while wearing those things with out spraining and ankle. I’m impressed.” He said which made me laugh.

The conversation wasn’t overly stimulating but pleasant enough to keep me engaged. We talked about the weather and traveling, like I said, nothing exciting. He asked if I wanted to meet him for a drink while I was on Block Island. He wasn’t drop dead gorgeous but cute enough to meet for a drink. I gave him my cellphone number before walking towards the ferry.

We separated while boarding the ferry but I knew he wasn’t far. I took a seat inside the vessel then strategically moved my dress to expose my crossed legs. I pulled my IPOD out of my bag and glanced over to my new friend. He was checking me out. I was happy.

The ferry pulled out of the dock and I was on my way. I felt a little sleepy but ready to join my friends and party like a rock star! My mind started to wonder as I stared out of the many windows but a soft tap on my shoulder got my attention.

“Mind if I sit with you again?” The Average Looking Guy asked.

“Not at all.” I said smiling.

He was sweet and seemed genuine. The longer we talked the more attractive he became which was a pleasant surprise. I was having an intelligent conversation with a guy with some substance. This was refreshing!

Everything was going well with this guy. We talked, laughed and listened to each other’s songs on our IPODs. But then, the boat took a drastic dipped and so did my stomach.

“What the hell was that?” I thought. I didn’t want to alarm my new friend so I ignored my desire to scream and concentrated on every word he said.

“Are you ok?” He asked

“Yup, I’m fine.” I lied.

About three minutes later, the boat took another dip and a wave of anxiety washed over me.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“Nothing, I’m sorry. What were you saying again?” I asked trying to regain control of my emotions.

He continued to talk about something but I couldn’t follow him. I was seriously concerned about the remainder of this trip. Just as I talked myself out of shrieking, the ferry took another huge dip. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I needed air. I reached down to my lap for my IPOD and wrapped the wire around it before placing it in my bag.

“Will you excuse me?” I asked as politely as possible. He asked me if I was ok but I didn’t answer him.

I got up slowly and gracefully walked towards the door. My goal was to get outside without making a scene. I reached the door and gently tugged on it, it wouldn’t open. I looked back at my The Average Looking Guy but he moved back to his own seat and proceeded to read a newspaper. I pulled the door a little harder but it still wouldn’t move. The panic I suppressed the last fifteen minutes finally over took me. I felt my heart pounding and my body broke into a cold sweat. I needed to get outside and fast.

I grabbed the handle to the door with both hands and yanked on it like a mental patient, it just wouldn’t open! I turned to the family sitting next to the door. With the look of desperation on my face, I grabbed the shoulders of the closest man and looked directly into his eyes.

“For the love of god, you have to help me! I can’t open the door. PLEASE open it before I throw up all over your family!” I pleaded as saliva pooled in the corners of my mouth.

He jumped up and pulled the door handle but he couldn’t open it either. He looked at his children and then at me, in horror.

“The latch is hooked on the top of the door!! Unlock the top latch and get her out of here!” Screamed a woman from the back of the ferry.

“GOT IT!!” Said the father of three.

He flung open the door and shoved me outside. The wind felt so good on my face and I thought that I was going to be ok. I was wrong. The ferry took another dip and I threw my upper body over the railing. The fries I ate an hour earlier exploded all over the ocean along with my dignity. I hoped that no one noticed, especially my potentially new boyfriend.

I wanted to get back inside to flirt with The Average Looking Guy again but I needed to be sure that I was going to be okay. I stood outside for a few minutes and loved the way the wind felt on my face. I struggled to keep my dress away from my head and then it hit me. If the material of my dress is surrounding my head, then what is covering my body? I reached behind me and felt skin. I freaked out! I looked down at myself and noticed that my dress wasn’t covering as much of my body as it was when I walked on. It was mortifying!! I grabbed a hold of my dress to pull it down but the boat took a sudden plunge and I threw myself over the side again.

Once every ounce of fluid left my body, I revisited the issue at hand, my dress. I franticly pulled it down but the wind wasn’t’ cooperating. My pretty wrap around dress was staying on by a flimsy string and the only thing I could do was to curse like I’ve never cursed before! When I pulled the front of my dress closed the back of my dress flew up. I wasn’t sure what upset me more, exposing my thirty eight-year old cellulite covered butt to the world or vomiting like a loser.

It wasn’t easy but I somehow managed to tuck my dress between my knees, which kept it from flying up. I prayed that no one saw me. I looked so pretty and put together when I walked onto this social death trap. I even met a nice boy who I could see myself dating. I hope that this debacle of a trip didn’t turn him off.

“We’re almost there!” A man yelled from the door. I gave him thumbs up but I didn’t turn around for two reasons.

#1 I didn’t want to lose my balance and fly off the ferry

#2 I didn’t want to flash everyone again.

A few minutes later, I felt a tap on my back. I thought for sure it was The Average Looking Guy. A comforting smile or even a soft embrace from him would have been nice. It was a struggle but I managed to smile before turning around. I was disappointed to find an elderly man standing behind me instead of The Average Looking Guy.

“May I come closer to you?” The seventy-year old man asked while waving a bunch of napkins. I nodded “yes”.

“Don’t be embarrassed. This happens to a lot of people.” He said trying to make me feel better.

“Did everyone see me get sick?” I asked while wiping my face with a napkin.

“Well, yes we did.” He replied then handed me bottled water.

“Did anyone see anything else?” I asked

“Yes. Yes we did but don’t worry about it. It’s really not a big deal” He replied which made me laugh.

“Yeah, right!” I said then turned back towards the water and started to dry heave. He threw his jacket over me to keep my dress from flying up.

The elderly man was kind enough to stay outside with me for the rest of the trip. He tried to make small talk but I couldn’t hear him over the wind. I was able to hear him ask about The Average Looking Guy.

“I would never let my wife get sick alone. You might want to get rid of that boyfriend of yours. He should have been out here with you.” He said sounding like my father.

“I just met while waiting for the ferry. He’s not my boyfriend.” I explained.

“Oh good! You deserve a real man.” He said smiling.

He was right! I do deserve a real man. If the tables were turned and The Average Looking Guy was getting sick, I would have been right there by his side. Ok, so maybe not exactly by his side while he was vomiting but I would have handed him napkins when he got done.

We finally docked on Block Island and I went back in the cabinet to collect my things. My new boyfriend disappeared but the elderly man didn’t leave my side. I couldn’t thank him enough as we walked towards the street. I assured him that my friend would be there shortly and that I was going to be ok. He wished me well then left me sitting alone on a bench.

Kelly pulled up ad honked the horn. I climbed into the truck, quickly.

“What the hell happened to you?” She asked

“Don’t worry about it, just get me to the house. I need a nap.” I said.

“Did you throw up? Oh my GOD, you did!!” She said while laughing hysterically.

“It wasn’t pretty Kelly, I feel like I’m going to die.” I said.

“You were on the water for only 30 minutes! You seriously got sick? Didn’t you get that patch thing?” She asked along with a million of other questions between laughter.

I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Kelly, seriously, get me home. I need to lay down. I don’t think I’m going to make it out to night.” I said while sticking my head out of the passenger side window.

“You have to rally! It’s your first night here and you have to catch up to us.” She said.

“Really Kelly? Does it look like I’m in any condition to catch up to you guys?” I asked. “You’ll feel better after a nap and a shower.” She assured me.

When we got to the house I marched inside and headed up to a bedroom.

“Hello! Ewe! You are taking a shower before we go out, right?” Lisa asked.

“Shut up.” I replied as I crawled up the stairs.

“What the hell happened to you?” Michelle asked when I walked into the bedroom we shared.

“You look awful.” She continued as I slithered into the bed and buried my head into my pillow.

“Is the room spinning?” I asked Michelle

“I need this room to stop spinning.” I said while pealing the worthless patch from behind my ear and closed my eyes.

My friends were right. I felt a million times better after a long nap and shower. We went out that night and had a blast!

The Average Looking Guy didn’t call me that weekend or any other weekend. I really can’t blame him. I said that I would have stood by his side if the tables were turned but I lied. We only knew each other for a total of forty-five minutes before I mooned everyone on the ferry. Vomiting can forgiven but Indecent exposer is a difficult thing to over look.