Too Freakinâ€™ Funny
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Separation.
I guess Spring is in the air because Iâ€™ve had six men ask me out in the past week. Two of them, I might actually go out with. Three of the others are maybes. The sixth man, well, Iâ€™ll get to that.
The quality of men asking me out, in general, has gone up in the last year. Right after my divorce, there were plenty of vultures figuring I would be an easy lay, or as one man told a guy-friend of mine, he Â preferred to date 40-year-old women who had been divorced less than Â six Â months because the sex was hot and he played on the womenâ€™s insecurities to get what- ever he wanted.
Sifting through that kind of dating pool can be a full- time job. Â The riff-raff seems to be clearing out now, and Iâ€™m glad Iâ€™ve held to my standards because it meant I dated better quality guys even if I never showed my bedroom to a single one of them. Overall, theyâ€™re better educated, financially well-heeled, and can carry on a conversation more readily than men in my life a year ago, with a couple of notable Â exceptions Â from last year.
That said, these new men are still downright vanilla, even the cute one in his 30â€™s. Already, I have the sense that I will have to be careful of what I say and how much I reveal of myself or itâ€™ll be too much for them. And I donâ€™t like the idea that I might have to hide or tone down anything about myself to socialize a little. But Iâ€™m keeping an open mind in a minefield of conservatives.
An open heart? Not so sure on that one. One of the three maybes is definitely worth getting to know a little better, but heâ€™s a maybe instead of a yes because of his job. Oh, itâ€™s a snazzy job. Well into the six Â figures. Very prestigious. Highly respected in the community. And he Â really enjoys his work, which is almost always good. The problem is, he Â works for a company that might have a conflict of interest with my current job position, and Iâ€™m in no mood to get my heart broken again because of Â a job conflict where an organizationâ€™s rules dictate whether I can explore an intimate relationship or not. So Iâ€™ll stay shy of Mr. Maybe until I know Iâ€™m not going to be told Iâ€™m not allowed to date him. By then, it may or may not be too late. But if heâ€™s meant to be in my life, he will be.
Then thereâ€™s the sixth guy. This is the part thatâ€™s so freakinâ€™ funny. Hereâ€™s proof that creamâ€™s not the only thing that rises to the top.
Last time he saw me was over a year ago. My hair was a Â different Â color Â and Â I Â was Â at Â least Â 15 Â pounds Â heavier Â and dressed conservatively for work. This time, he didnâ€™t recognize me.
That was strike one. Not that Iâ€™m so egotistical that Iâ€™d hold it Â against a guy for not recognizing or remembering me, but for launching into the exact lines as a year ago during the first five minutes of conversation, particularly the ones on how much we have in common when he hasnâ€™t asked anything about me. Talk about feeling caught in a time warp!
I never did go out with the guy last year, in spite of his very Â aggressive pursuit. There was something about him that just didnâ€™t feel Â sincere but I couldnâ€™t put my finger on it. Just intuition, I guess. But he wouldnâ€™t take no for an answer. Then when he got to the point of stalking me, I refused to talk to him and hadÂ nothingÂ elseÂ toÂ doÂ withÂ him.Â WhichÂ isÂ whyÂ IÂ was shocked that he struck up a conversation and asked me to dinner, all without recognizing me.
Which brings us to why he originally struck out with me: his previous history of exerting his Alpha maleness and trying to dominate 100% of the time.
But then along comes strikes two and three in quick succession.
Heâ€™sÂ very Â charming Â when Â he Â first Â says Â hello, Â even though Iâ€™m looking at him like, why the hell are you talking to me? Then the next words out of his mouth: â€œIâ€™m a very successful medical doctor.â€ Huh? Yes, Iâ€™m well aware of the stats that say doctor is the most popular term women run on dating web- sites and the implications of that, but I find it incredibly insulting to be lumped into the mix with gold-digging trollops. Â He says it not because heâ€™s so excited about his career or helping people Â or Â healing, but rather, to impress me. Most doctors I know refer to themselves as â€œphysicians,â€ but this one puts it in simple terms that even I Â can understand, and I am so not impressed.
I suppose my wide-eyed blank stare has him confused because the next thing he tells me is that heâ€™s only 43, which is quite young to be so successful.
Iâ€™m finally able to speak. I remember that he was a con- tract doc an HMOâ€”still isâ€”even though he hints now at having Â his Â own Â practice. Â But Â something Â else Â is Â bothering Â me. â€œYouâ€™re…43?â€ I ask. Had I heard him correctly?
He nods, smiles, doesnâ€™t stop looking me in the eyes, not for a split second. â€œI know I look a little older than that, but being Â a Â successful Â medical Â doctor Â is Â a Â big responsibility.â€ Â He glances away and then back. â€œYes, Iâ€™m only 43.â€
Funny, a year ago, he was only 52, which matches his looks, his childrenâ€™s ages, and his preference for 60â€™s music. But in a year, heâ€™s dropped ten years. What amazing anti-aging miracles heâ€™s been working on…a successful medical doctor, indeed! Maybe I should date him to find out how Dr. Ponce de Leonâ€™s secret formula for eternal youth…. Nah. Not even if he dropped another ten years.
And thatâ€™s whatâ€™s so freakinâ€™ funny. That he couldnâ€™t open his mouth without lying to me. I didnâ€™t know it a year ago, but my intuition screamed at me to â€œRun away!â€ Now I know why.
If someone is willing to lie so easily about so little, what about the big things?