Anyone out There?
One plus one equals two. So why is it so hard for one man and one woman to equal loving committed and good relationship?
Allow me to answer my own rhetorical question. A blog entry hangs in the balance! We are human. And when people get involved in things, no matter what it is, we bring along hang- ups, baggage, prejudices, expectations, selfish ambition...You get the idea. Even good relationships are works in progress; Ever growing, yet never complete, organic projects of nature.
And I do mean "good."Because as a member of the human family, the problem does not necessarily exist in finding someone. Or, rather, anyone. Men and women are everywhere. As a friend says, "8 to 80, blind, cripple, and crazy."
And I've seen it all.
For example, Mr. Suave. Mr. Suave is a 30-something ex NFL player who noticed me on one of my many treks across Phoenix's desert. Seriously. I don't hike for fun, but my legs provide my main mode of transportation. At first I shrugged him off as a potential stalker. Not a necessarily attractive quality. But, after he pulled over for the third time in two weeks to offer me a ride, he handed me a card and properly introduced himself. The card serves a twofold purpose of letting me know he has a viable business and evaporating the fog of suspicion that he might be a loony. Honestly, how many crazies hold down 9-5's? Not many, unless you consider the post office. Then this line of reasoning breaks down. But I digress...
Card becomes phone call. Phone call becomes first date. It's been so long since D-A-T-E that I turn a blind eye to some of the red flags screaming, "Run girl! If it takes a year hike through the desert yourself. A ride isn't worth that much!" Of course I don't listen to inner voice, because it's a date after all. (And dating is fun-or so conventional wisdom makes us believe. There's a reason Sex in the City was a hit. Hello! real life is sooo not like that. That's the way we wish we looked, acted and dated through life. But that's another story). Yes, he laughed incessantly at his own jokes, which I didn't get. Okay, maybe he's nervous, I think. Yes, he barely listens to a word I say, but the connection on my phone is bad. He does ask where I want to eat and obliges to my request for P.F. Chang's. And Lord knows I'm a sucker for a good meal, especially a free one.
The date ensues. Do I remember? He picks me up, of course, in his nice car. Awaiting me is a single yellow rose. I think," How sweet?" But in sharp contrast to the beauty of the delicate flower, a funk invades my senses. The car stinks. Not an acute smell, but a subtle evasive stink. I conclude that it's the dreaded BO. Not just BO, but an attempt to mask it with cologne. Did this guy even shower? I mean, I know he hits the gym pretty hard, but no time to wash up? Maybe he just hit the highlights and figured that I wouldn't notice. Oh well, I have a strong stomach. Anyway, there's no turning back. We're well on our way-meaning the I-10. Note to self-buy own car! I don't know cars, but I know this is luxury. It has GPS, but somehow we still manage to get lost. It also has satellite radio. Okay, not exactly my style. I'm just as content channel hopping and asking for directions, but I'm an open-minded person. But it strikes me that he thinks he needs to have the luxury car with all the amenities because that's what successful people do in life: Get expensive stuff and lord it over those around you. And there's always better and more expensive stuff to get.
Then the conversation. There is no lack of it, which is my most dreaded date fear, but it all revolves around him. This affords me a slight advantage, though, because I learn a few things about Mr. Suave.
1. He has some money. "I bought my mom a house out here. I love my mom."
2. He has a kid et. al. "I moved my son out here with his mom. She was complaining..." Silent scream here. A baby, ok. It's hard finding guys my age who don't have babies. But baby's mama is still in the picture? As Faith Hill sang, "Baby, hello. On no! Goodbye!"
3.Drinks like fish? After asking if I drank, and myself responding that I have a glass of wine occasionally, but most times I just get a glass of iced tea, he declares, "I'd make that a Long Island iced tea!" Upon which, after arriving at the restaurant he proceeds to order.
Then comes dinner. Ah, the bright spot to the whole affair! Yet, even for my yum-yum loving tummy, I begin to doubt if the date is actually costing me more than I'm getting. Hmm...More of the same. We discuss his glory days in the NFL, his subsequent injury and conversion experience, and again, his love for his mom. Does he think I'm finding this attractive? I'm thinking he's not even pausing to consider, he's so busy impressing me. Then I learn the last tidbit to complete my impression of Mr. Suave.
"I get PMS like a woman."
"What?!"
"I'm moody. Just like a woman."
Great. That's all I need in a man. I can track both of our periods. We can bum it on the sofa eating chocolate and watching Titanic during that "special time." Wait. I have girlfriends. What do I need you for? I already discuss the best tampon brands, woman exams, tender breasts, and embarrassing female mishaps with them!
Okay, I'm open-minded, not crazy. And not desperate. That statement sealed the deal, or the un-deal, as it were. But like previously stated, I was stuck. Repeat mental note here, emphatically! Explicative. So we finished dinner, got a doggy bag, and headed out. Mr. Suave was hoping the party had just begun and suggested we go clubbing. I was freezing and longed only for the warmth of his hi class ride. In which he proceeded to run errands. Suddenly,I couldn't recognize where we were going and vocalized this, feeling uneasy, thinking, "This is how people disappear." He answered, "Well, since we're in the area." Thank God we only went to the video store and his office. Although, he did spend 10 minutes in said store while I waited in the car refusing to expose myself to the elements again, so technically,
I was abducted. I should've run into the video store and sought refuge with one of the video clerks. It might have been more fun. And possibly have brought things to a quicker end.
Mr. Suave pulls in to the apartment complex. I silently thank the Lord. With my hand on the door pulley thing, I turn and thank him for the date, which I mean. He says he had a great time. I lie and say the same thing. Did we just go on the same date? I take my rose and head for the door. At least he doesn't know which apartment I live in. All I can think is that there's a reason some of us are single.
Meeting a person, as GI Joe says, is only half the battle.
I soldier on.
