All About Being Single
My daughter asked me, about a month or so ago, why I didn’t stay with a previous fiancé. I, of course, started to list all the incompatibility issues, the personality faux pas’, when I noticed the confused looked on my 11 year olds face. I immediately shut up and re-thought my answer. I gave her the simplest one I could think of.
We just weren’t right for each other.
And that is basically what it comes down to most of the time. Compatibility. Well that and it seems every weirdo, stalker and hillbilly sees me as a desirable mate.
I was talking to my step-daughter a while back and she told me I was too picky. I guess I am looking for a modern day prince charming and from what I understand, they don’t exist. The best I can hope for is a (and this is her terminology, not mine) ‘fuck buddy’. I must have turned several shades of fuchsia because she got this wicked little grin on her face and chortled at me. Then she informed me that a ‘fuck buddy’ would be a great way to relieve stress, work off a little excess energy and I could send him home when I was done. Tacky. Completely tacky. She concluded by saying it was good for your health and she had someone in mind and would introduce us sometime.
Fine. Whatever. The next week she invited me to come and hang out with her and her beau (also a biker), at a local bar. Why not? What could it hurt?
I should have run.
Little did I know she was going to take me to a biker bar on a blind date.
The horror of it all.
First of all, I was completely overdressed. I came straight from work, dressed in slacks and a sheer blouse, and met her at a restaurant for dinner. That was where I was introduced to my date for the night. Not cool. I was so distressed I didn’t eat anything. And when we went to the bar I nearly ordered an alcoholic beverage (did I say 'a' drink – I meant the entire bottle) so I wouldn’t know what a nightmare I was in.
The person she introduced me too was almost sixty years old, tattooed, and a biker! Please! I’m 37 and still have hot, young twenty something’s hitting on me because they think I no older then 30. What did she think I was going to do with someone who could be my father? Help him in and out of his wheelchair? I nearly reached across the table and choked her.
Needless to say, I spent the next three hours thinking of forms of torture people have had to endure down through the ages and I listed ‘blind dates’ as one of the top ten worst. Luckily for me I have strategies that chase away unwanted suitors.
1) Start talking about the history of man. Were great men born or do circumstances create them.
2) Ask him if he has seen any interesting historical documentaries of late.
3) Expound upon the theory of there being a base language that all mankind once spoke and how to break that down into base sounds.
- and if those don’t work -
4) Tell them all about my highly spirited 11 year old ADD daughter whom I never go anywhere without.
One of them usually works - thank God. Lucky for me I only had to use number one and three on him. After the first 20 min. he left me all to my lonesome.
As I was running...I mean leaving to go to my car, my step-daughter stopped me and tried to con me into going out the next night too. Guess what my answer was?
At least I restrained the guffaw that wanted to burst from my mouth.
It is not easy finding someone compatible. Wading through the sea of weirdo’s, half-wits, bums, drug addicts, and alcoholics is almost impossible. I have given up on meeting someone that does not have a ton of emotional baggage they carry around with them.
Here is another example of the men I meet:
Last year I was sitting in a park watching my daughter and her friends play. I had my writing stuff out, pen, paper, headphones, and was busily jotting things down, when a guy came up and just plopped himself down beside me.
First let me say I am an American. And as an American I have a five foot personal bubble of ‘do not get close to me’ space that surrounds me in all directions. You do not invade an American’s bubble. If you burst their bubble they may react in a paranoid, uncomfortable or almost hostile manner. Beware the bubble. And to do this to a fellow American is just bad form and severe invasion of privacy.
The first thing he says is "I can’t believe the day I’m having." Now, why would you use an opening line like that on an unsuspecting, and (now that my bubble has been contaminated with other people germs) irritated person. Trying not to encourage conversation, especially since he looked like he hadn't shaved in a week, his shirt was smudged with some unidentifiable substances, and his cutoffs looked like they had been eaten by battery acid, I smiled, noddded and said "oh". Hoping this would end the conversation, I looked back down at my paper and tried to regain my train of thought.
"Yep, one of the worst weeks I’ve had in a long time."
Again, I smile, nod, "oh really", look back at paper.
"Me and my old lady have been trying to work things out but it just ain’t happening. She’s just an unforgiving bitch. I need to find me a new old lady."
I am now not only irritated but affronted. WHY do men call their wives and girlfriends ‘old ladies’? DO NOT, I repeat, do not use that terminology around me. So, now, at this point, I am not only annoyed but extremely offended as well.
"So what’s your name? You got anybody?"
AAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH! You moron! What kind of an idiot comes up and uses that pick up line? And why on earth would he think that just because he’s looking and available, the first woman he sees will do just fine?
I put my pen and paper down, took off my sunglasses, and glared at him. "No, I don’t and no, I’m not looking."
Okay, how many men out there would take this as a hint and go about your business? Show of hands? Well guess what? Mr. Suave and debonair was not just a few cards short of a full deck but he obviously didn’t have any cards!
"Well, my name is Bill. Blah, blah, blah, blah…"
That fool sat there for another thirty minutes blithering on about the injustices of being a man, how unsympathetic woman are, especially about his jobless situation, which from what he was telling me was not an uncommon state for him, and on and on and on…
I finally got up, told my daughter where I would be, and locked myself in the woman’s bathroom for 15 min. When I came out he was gone. Thank God.
This incident was mild compared to a few others I’ve had. Other instances have left me being stalked, nearly mauled, and harassed when I refused to go out with them. I even had one guy take off all his clothes in the middle of a public park and flash me with a full erection. I screamed and nearly passed out. I must have a ‘Freak’s Here’ sign above my head.
And people wonder why men scare me.
Sigh. How hard can this be? I see other people with mates. Maybe my standards are too high. I don’t know. I think they are pretty basic.
This is my list of criteria for dating.
- sensitive (but not a big mush ball, besides, I only carry enough kleenix for me)
- kind, considerate (had a friend who’s husband wouldn’t think twice about running over anything in his way – if you’re cruel to animals that doesn’t say much about you)
- well mannered (I’m not talking Jeeves here, I just don’t want to date somebody who can belch the alphabet)
- educated (I want someone who’s idea of entertainment and sophistication does not consist of sitting in front of the t.v. with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other watching endless hours of anything labeled a sport by ESPN – and the words "get me another bud ole’ woman" had better never leave his lips or he won’t have them for very long – he has to pick up a book every once in a while too and I don’t mean the comics either)
- calm (I don’t like to fight and I don't like hysterics – no reason for it – either you do or you don’t, either you will or you won’t – end of statement).
- same professional goals (I need someone who is a writer as well, or at least of the artistic mind set – I am fed up with the whole being jealous of an inanimate object – the computer – it’s who I am, deal with it)
- must like kids (face it, I have an 11 year old daughter and her needs have to be meet - kids aren’t toys you put down when you’re done playing with them – they are forever and her and I are pretty close)
- must have a job/responsible (sounds silly to have to say that but now-a-days you do, and I don’t mean nose to the grindstone, just help tow the line so the ship doesn’t sink)
- fun (yes, after all the quacking about responsible, kind, calm – he has to be fun – not a laugh a minute thing but a sense of humor, even a dry one, is a must not to mention I like to be outside a lot in the summer – swimming, fishing, camping)
- poker (I have to have someone to beat the pants off of – my brother’s won’t play with me anymore – I win a bit too much for them – gotta’ good poker face)
- forgiving (life is too short to be pissed off about something piddly – I don’t go around angry and I will be damn if I’m going to let someone into my life that is – even when my daughter makes me mad I tell her I love her and how fortunate I am to have her in my life and I mean that)
- looks (not that important but I don’t like men shorter then me – I am only 5’5" – and I don’t want guys more then 2 or 3 years younger or older then myself)
Well, that’s my list. I think it is fairly short and precise and yeah, maybe a bit nit picky, but trust me when I say that I have been with other men of the opposite temperament of myself and it did not go well. None of them understood my desire/need to write, to create, and none of them liked fantasy or showed any interest in what I was doing (except to complain).
Basically, if you aren’t a writer, you don’t understand what it takes to be one. For example: staring off into space while sitting at the keyboard.
If my hands weren’t flying across the keys I wasn’t really writing, at least to my ex's. But that is so not true. Part of knowing what to write is thinking about what to write or I guess it would be better to say ‘imagining’ what to write. When I am daydreaming, I am writing. I am composing scenes and characters and attitudes.
Well, I have complained enough about the lack of adequate men so I am going to go and entertain my daughter, hang out with her. She is bored, bored, bored, and did I mention she is bored?
We just weren’t right for each other.
And that is basically what it comes down to most of the time. Compatibility. Well that and it seems every weirdo, stalker and hillbilly sees me as a desirable mate.
I was talking to my step-daughter a while back and she told me I was too picky. I guess I am looking for a modern day prince charming and from what I understand, they don’t exist. The best I can hope for is a (and this is her terminology, not mine) ‘fuck buddy’. I must have turned several shades of fuchsia because she got this wicked little grin on her face and chortled at me. Then she informed me that a ‘fuck buddy’ would be a great way to relieve stress, work off a little excess energy and I could send him home when I was done. Tacky. Completely tacky. She concluded by saying it was good for your health and she had someone in mind and would introduce us sometime.
Fine. Whatever. The next week she invited me to come and hang out with her and her beau (also a biker), at a local bar. Why not? What could it hurt?
I should have run.
Little did I know she was going to take me to a biker bar on a blind date.
The horror of it all.
First of all, I was completely overdressed. I came straight from work, dressed in slacks and a sheer blouse, and met her at a restaurant for dinner. That was where I was introduced to my date for the night. Not cool. I was so distressed I didn’t eat anything. And when we went to the bar I nearly ordered an alcoholic beverage (did I say 'a' drink – I meant the entire bottle) so I wouldn’t know what a nightmare I was in.
The person she introduced me too was almost sixty years old, tattooed, and a biker! Please! I’m 37 and still have hot, young twenty something’s hitting on me because they think I no older then 30. What did she think I was going to do with someone who could be my father? Help him in and out of his wheelchair? I nearly reached across the table and choked her.
Needless to say, I spent the next three hours thinking of forms of torture people have had to endure down through the ages and I listed ‘blind dates’ as one of the top ten worst. Luckily for me I have strategies that chase away unwanted suitors.
1) Start talking about the history of man. Were great men born or do circumstances create them.
2) Ask him if he has seen any interesting historical documentaries of late.
3) Expound upon the theory of there being a base language that all mankind once spoke and how to break that down into base sounds.
- and if those don’t work -
4) Tell them all about my highly spirited 11 year old ADD daughter whom I never go anywhere without.
One of them usually works - thank God. Lucky for me I only had to use number one and three on him. After the first 20 min. he left me all to my lonesome.
As I was running...I mean leaving to go to my car, my step-daughter stopped me and tried to con me into going out the next night too. Guess what my answer was?
At least I restrained the guffaw that wanted to burst from my mouth.
It is not easy finding someone compatible. Wading through the sea of weirdo’s, half-wits, bums, drug addicts, and alcoholics is almost impossible. I have given up on meeting someone that does not have a ton of emotional baggage they carry around with them.
Here is another example of the men I meet:
Last year I was sitting in a park watching my daughter and her friends play. I had my writing stuff out, pen, paper, headphones, and was busily jotting things down, when a guy came up and just plopped himself down beside me.
First let me say I am an American. And as an American I have a five foot personal bubble of ‘do not get close to me’ space that surrounds me in all directions. You do not invade an American’s bubble. If you burst their bubble they may react in a paranoid, uncomfortable or almost hostile manner. Beware the bubble. And to do this to a fellow American is just bad form and severe invasion of privacy.
The first thing he says is "I can’t believe the day I’m having." Now, why would you use an opening line like that on an unsuspecting, and (now that my bubble has been contaminated with other people germs) irritated person. Trying not to encourage conversation, especially since he looked like he hadn't shaved in a week, his shirt was smudged with some unidentifiable substances, and his cutoffs looked like they had been eaten by battery acid, I smiled, noddded and said "oh". Hoping this would end the conversation, I looked back down at my paper and tried to regain my train of thought.
"Yep, one of the worst weeks I’ve had in a long time."
Again, I smile, nod, "oh really", look back at paper.
"Me and my old lady have been trying to work things out but it just ain’t happening. She’s just an unforgiving bitch. I need to find me a new old lady."
I am now not only irritated but affronted. WHY do men call their wives and girlfriends ‘old ladies’? DO NOT, I repeat, do not use that terminology around me. So, now, at this point, I am not only annoyed but extremely offended as well.
"So what’s your name? You got anybody?"
AAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH! You moron! What kind of an idiot comes up and uses that pick up line? And why on earth would he think that just because he’s looking and available, the first woman he sees will do just fine?
I put my pen and paper down, took off my sunglasses, and glared at him. "No, I don’t and no, I’m not looking."
Okay, how many men out there would take this as a hint and go about your business? Show of hands? Well guess what? Mr. Suave and debonair was not just a few cards short of a full deck but he obviously didn’t have any cards!
"Well, my name is Bill. Blah, blah, blah, blah…"
That fool sat there for another thirty minutes blithering on about the injustices of being a man, how unsympathetic woman are, especially about his jobless situation, which from what he was telling me was not an uncommon state for him, and on and on and on…
I finally got up, told my daughter where I would be, and locked myself in the woman’s bathroom for 15 min. When I came out he was gone. Thank God.
This incident was mild compared to a few others I’ve had. Other instances have left me being stalked, nearly mauled, and harassed when I refused to go out with them. I even had one guy take off all his clothes in the middle of a public park and flash me with a full erection. I screamed and nearly passed out. I must have a ‘Freak’s Here’ sign above my head.
And people wonder why men scare me.
Sigh. How hard can this be? I see other people with mates. Maybe my standards are too high. I don’t know. I think they are pretty basic.
This is my list of criteria for dating.
- sensitive (but not a big mush ball, besides, I only carry enough kleenix for me)
- kind, considerate (had a friend who’s husband wouldn’t think twice about running over anything in his way – if you’re cruel to animals that doesn’t say much about you)
- well mannered (I’m not talking Jeeves here, I just don’t want to date somebody who can belch the alphabet)
- educated (I want someone who’s idea of entertainment and sophistication does not consist of sitting in front of the t.v. with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other watching endless hours of anything labeled a sport by ESPN – and the words "get me another bud ole’ woman" had better never leave his lips or he won’t have them for very long – he has to pick up a book every once in a while too and I don’t mean the comics either)
- calm (I don’t like to fight and I don't like hysterics – no reason for it – either you do or you don’t, either you will or you won’t – end of statement).
- same professional goals (I need someone who is a writer as well, or at least of the artistic mind set – I am fed up with the whole being jealous of an inanimate object – the computer – it’s who I am, deal with it)
- must like kids (face it, I have an 11 year old daughter and her needs have to be meet - kids aren’t toys you put down when you’re done playing with them – they are forever and her and I are pretty close)
- must have a job/responsible (sounds silly to have to say that but now-a-days you do, and I don’t mean nose to the grindstone, just help tow the line so the ship doesn’t sink)
- fun (yes, after all the quacking about responsible, kind, calm – he has to be fun – not a laugh a minute thing but a sense of humor, even a dry one, is a must not to mention I like to be outside a lot in the summer – swimming, fishing, camping)
- poker (I have to have someone to beat the pants off of – my brother’s won’t play with me anymore – I win a bit too much for them – gotta’ good poker face)
- forgiving (life is too short to be pissed off about something piddly – I don’t go around angry and I will be damn if I’m going to let someone into my life that is – even when my daughter makes me mad I tell her I love her and how fortunate I am to have her in my life and I mean that)
- looks (not that important but I don’t like men shorter then me – I am only 5’5" – and I don’t want guys more then 2 or 3 years younger or older then myself)
Well, that’s my list. I think it is fairly short and precise and yeah, maybe a bit nit picky, but trust me when I say that I have been with other men of the opposite temperament of myself and it did not go well. None of them understood my desire/need to write, to create, and none of them liked fantasy or showed any interest in what I was doing (except to complain).
Basically, if you aren’t a writer, you don’t understand what it takes to be one. For example: staring off into space while sitting at the keyboard.
If my hands weren’t flying across the keys I wasn’t really writing, at least to my ex's. But that is so not true. Part of knowing what to write is thinking about what to write or I guess it would be better to say ‘imagining’ what to write. When I am daydreaming, I am writing. I am composing scenes and characters and attitudes.
Well, I have complained enough about the lack of adequate men so I am going to go and entertain my daughter, hang out with her. She is bored, bored, bored, and did I mention she is bored?
posted by Liz at 10:09 PM
2 Comments:
Nice to read it.:)
Even more to write it! :D
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