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So I guess I’m not interested after all…

  • Posted on July 16, 2009 at 10:55 am
This entry is part 1 of 6 in the series Man Shopping

I was in the dairy section when I looked up and there he was. A regular customer that I wanted to get to know better outside of work.

He mentioned a 20 yr old daughter and I asked “How do you make it past 16 without wanting to KILL THEM DEAD??!!??” He reiterated the mantra I’ve been citing the entire time: You laid the groundwork, it’s hard, but you have to let her make her own decisions and be responsible for the outcome.

I told him how my issues with anxiety make me tend to flip out on her hardcore when it’s not really warranted – that I overreact.

He segued from that into his ex-wife’s mental issues and how difficult they’d been. And how she’d snapped and that led to their divorce. That she was making friendly overtures and he’d talked to his mama about it and welp….

“I’m just gonna be her friend”

You know what those italics mean, right? Yeah, you know what I mean. Of COURSE you know what it means.

Ex-sex.

I blinked, said “I hope that works out for you!” and took my leave, mind reeling and eyebrow twitching.

Care to leave a comment?

I did not fall, I jumped

  • Posted on April 28, 2009 at 12:53 pm
This entry is part 1 of 10 in the series atypicalrelationship

He has three kids. Only they’re not “kids”, they’re teens/young adults.

Older.

When I gave the usual preparatory spiel (Kids, school, work, special needs kid, high intensity life), he didn’t blink. He asked me out twice before I realized it was an invitation. In my world, “what kind of movies do you like?” is conversation, not invitation.

He is sporadically employed, separated and living with his folks until the divorce is final. He wants to go back to school, to “study computers”. I tell him that the field is broad and currently full of people who JUST got laid off. That I think if he specializes in medical computing, he’ll pretty much be guaranteed a job as long as he’s willing to work.

We went out after work one night. Sat at a table across from each other and talked of our hopes and dreams. Spoke of our respective anxiety issues, of his various injuries and their resultant aches and pains and the medication they require.

(I did my best to quash the panicky unease his disclosures engendered.)

He likes that I’m an intellectual. Says I’m “purty”.

When it became obvious that I was out WAY past my bedtime, we agreed that the date was a good one, and I said I’d go out with him again. He caressed my cheek and leaned in for a kiss.

It was….WOW.

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