Thursday, October 28, 2010

Things Get a Little Spooky Around Halloween

My love life is spooky. Maybe it’s the process of trying to acquire one that leaves me feeling like one of those stupid girls in horror films that always fall down when the killer is chasing them through the forest.

I met the perfect man.

*He’s the perfect age for me.

*He’s good looking and has the prettiest shoulder-length, curly brown hair I’ve ever seen and a smoking hot body.

*He’s been married and has two grown children. I really like men that have that nesting/family instinct.

*He actually wants a relationship and doesn’t mind saying so. Doesn’t believe in playing hard-to-get.

*He’s sweet and down-to-earth, a simple man’s man type.

*He’s hung like a horse.

*He’s into me. We actually wants me.


*He lives in a tiny 40-year-old camper in his son’s backyard.

*He’s so poor that he pays for his packs of $1.99 cigarillos with pennies.

*His cell phone is one of those refurbished cell phones the government passes out to the elderly and poor for free so they can dial 911 if need arises. The government also gives them 120 free minutes monthly (how generous of you, Uncle Sam).

*He’s very, very evasive about his past.

*He has the dry, slightly evil, raspy laughter of what one would imagine a child molester to have. You try not to make him laugh unless you have a bar of Lava soap and plenty of boiling water near by.
***See Note At Bottom***

*He tells me that there’s a Florida court injunction against him stating that he can never work again, though he isn’t disabled. Hmmm.

*He’s one of those guys that promise you the moon and make all these grandiose plans with you and the whole time you’re thinking:

Right. You don’t have two pennies to rub together. How the fuck do you plan on making all these things happen? Dollar scratch-offs? Rob a liquor store? Pretend to fall down at the Wal Mart and sue them for 5 million dollars?

We dated for two whole days until I had to put an end to it. I’m a realist after all. I know it must sound like I’m a cold, shallow bitch and that I broke up with him because he’s poor, but guess what? I’m broke too. I don’t have two pennies to rub together either. Two broke people shouldn’t be in a relationship together (you can quote me on that). At least one of you has to have some money for it to work. I liked the guy, but not enough to move into an old camper with him and live in poverty. I mean, as a single man, I don’t mind eating ramen and buying cheap beer with the loose change I found in the sofa but I sure as hell won’t do that with my future partner. Talk about killing all the romance…quick.

And the really sad thing, I never even got to “sample” his huge cock or even see it.



In the 90’s I had a queeny, little roommate named Matt. For some reason, men just loved him and he pretty much could pick and choose whoever he wanted to date. Most of the guys he dated were total jackasses and I hated them, but one night he brought home this very attractive, broad-shouldered guy named Troy. Not only was Troy attractive, he was a damned nice guy too, kind of old-fashioned and treated Matt like the little princess Matt believed himself to be. One evening when I came home from work, I found Mat on my computer in an AOL chatroom talking to guys. Don’t laugh. It was the late 90’s; AOL chatrooms were all rage and sort of the Manhunt of that era.

“What are you doing, missy-rella ? You’ve got a man. Troy wouldn’t like you hookin’ online. I chided him.

“Oh…him.” Matt made a dismissive sweeping gesture with his hand, “I broke up with him this morning.”

“What in the world for?” I demanded.

“Girl, did you ever hear him laugh? I swear I wanted to scratch his eyes out every time he laughed!” Matt shuddered.

You broke up with a guy just because you hate the way he laughs? My God, Matt... he was freakin’ perfect and so nice too!”

“Whatever. Listen, can I borrow your green hoodie? TopNButt8 is taking me to the movies in a little!” Matt motioned to his open IM box.

At that time, I couldn’t for the life of me understand breaking up with somebody so seemingly perfect because you hated his or her laugh. But now it definitely makes some sense to me. Though, I still wouldn’t have kicked him to the curb if that had been the only issue. I'm many things, but I'm not fickle. I'm not perfect (channeling Grace Jones here) and I don't expect my future partner to be perfect either.

Ya'll be good.


singlevancouver said...

hmmm....been there done that.

good post..

singlevancouver said...

hmm.....been there done that.

good post..