Thursday, June 19, 2014


I've heard rumors; some people think I am a "man-hater." I will quash that rumor right here, right now: I am NOT a man hater; I'm just a hater of stupid men. But what intelligent woman likes a stupid ass anyway? Dating, I thought, was going to be exciting. I welcomed the idea of meeting new and interesting people. I knew I would meet jerks along the way, but I just didn't think 99% of them would fall into the category. "Can I stay at your place tonight?" asked a dude who I had met only one time and who was too much of a pussy to drive in the possible sprinkle of snow forecasted for that evening. I mean, like a 5% chance. Um, yeah sure. I want a man who's a big baby and who creeps me out after date #1. Yeah, he stalked me for a bit. Ugh. Then there's the guy who I met in the city who started off, fully knowing I was nervous, "joking" with the cab driver about which river to throw my body into. Why I didn't hurl myself from the cab at that moment, I will never, ever know. As my Facebook friends already know, he also so kindly offered to swallow my gum for me when I didn't have a napkin to throw it out in before dinner. WORST.DATE. EVER. (As a side note, this person actually contacted me almost two years later. WHY, dude? Just WHY?) There have been others. If I ever made a second date with any of 'em, it was "just to see" if the first date wasn't fabulous simply because they were nervous or something. Me? I'm almost never nervous. I broke a tooth on one date and threw up on another and made it through, so nothing really paralyzes me. But, after almost four years of being divorced and sifting through those stupid dating sites, I decided that nothing was ever going to come of my search. Maybe, just maybe, I told myself, there was a reason I had to be alone for a long time, possibly to gain perspective or learn something more about myself. I don't know. Those things sounded good. I decided that perusing dating sites would just be for amusement purposes only when I was bored at work. Rarely have I been amused, though, because usually I was cringing. I read messages that started, "Hellow, great profile. Call me." (Really? Hellow? Didn't stand a chance.) "High! I'm really grate at grammer and speling. I double cheked my message twice. I think we are a good match. Look at m9rjf0y profile." (Again, not a chance. How these people got past second grade spelling tests, I will never know. I feel the need to hunt these teachers down...) But it's so true that when you throw in the towel, when you don't give a shit, that's when you will meet the right guy. And I did. We spoke everyday for hours and we laid our cards out on the table, the good ones and the bad ones. "Pass or play," he said. I didn't even have to mull it over. What he brought to the table was nothing I had seen in anyone before. Articulate, sweet, smart, considerate, kind, helpful, supportive, non-judgmental,communicative, and he has an awesome vocabulary and understands punctuation. Plus, he's adorable. What the fuck else could any woman want? Play. Play, play, play.....

1 comment:

  1. Pass or play.. Im writing this not knowing if you will ever see it (probably hope you don't). I wish I could turn back the clock in order to figure out where things (I) went wrong. I sooo want to believe in second chances....Im happy to be your friend BUT would give anything to be YOUR man!!!