Still, I’ll take Two Points for trying.

I’m just going to give those of who fell straight to the floor when I uttered the word ‘dating’ three minutes to brush yourselves off and get back to your seats.

Okay.

Is everybody good now?

I mean, granted it’s been a while. 

And, no, I don’t shout from the rooftops whenever I do browse the man aisle. Not my style really. 

But…because of the awkward ending yesterday…I felt it worth sharing.  Plus, I know all my lady friends want to real story.  Not the chopped down for Top Chef version.

This actually started several weeks ago when I realized I had far to much money in my bank account and therefore needed to see who would take some from me.  Plus, my ‘Check Engine’ light had been on for, perhaps several months, so off to the mechanic I went.

I got a bunch of new spark plugs and some interesting vibes from the dude at the front desk. 

Long story short – by the time the day was over, I had a new friend of Facebook. 

More long story short – by the time the week was over we were texting basketball banter back and forth as the ACC Tournament got in full swing.

Should have known right away there was something shady about him.  Big fan of State.  But, I have friends who pull for State and I like them just fine, so not a great clue.

Blah, blah, blah, we ended up watching a couple of games together over a few beers and it was fun.  No really ‘deep’ conversations, just a lot of banter.

And we became regular text buddies. 

Now, let me just say this ~ and perhaps show a little piece of my age.  The last time I really dated, there was no such thing as texting.  Thank goodness no one under the age of thirty reads this.  Otherwise I’d have to insert a whole paragraph here as to how in the the name of Are You There God It’s Me Margaret we used to communicate with one another.  I’ve already given up on trying to explain “Why Grandpa Doesn’t Text” to my nephew.

Anyway – this totally threw me off my game.  Or maybe the fact that I have no game threw me off my game.  Hard to say, really.  Either way – put me in a room, at a table, on a bar stool, at a concert – and I’m good to go.  I’ll talk to anyone about anything and they’ll like it.  Texting?  Not so much. 

But…the few people I did tell about this assured me that texting was was normal, that I should keep plugging along and give it a go.  It was like an after school special.  Everybody does it.  It makes you feel good.  Don’t text and drive.  Yadda yadda.  Many of these tips were followed with “and don’t sabotage this!”  Pshaw. Moi?

So I kept plugging along. 

Along the way, I learned more about how much he loved State, about his loss of a sales job a few years prior (hence the gig at the auto shop), that he grew up in Raleigh and that he had kids (two).  Nothing ever came up about a divorce – but, who’d be out there dating if they were still married?

Still, no real phone calls, no planned dates – always last minute – nothing beyond surface chatter.

But I hung in there.  Even though my dating allergy was really beginning to kick in.  I mean it was fine that the only time we could get together was late night (for me anyway).  It was fine that all our conversations were via text (I’m hip now).  Oh – plus I wasn’t even sure he was cool enough for me.

Red flags?  Just ignore those.

One night last week, tv let me down.  There was nothing to entertain me.  For hours.  I was super bored.  Recon began.  I’d never checked out dude’s Facebook page thoroughly – so off I went to get to know him.  Checked out his buddies – saw a few with his same last name – family members probably.  I spied on a one.  Then another – a sister no doubt what with the shared last name.

A sister.  Who just got back from a cruise.  Who had the same cruise pictures on her page as dude.  Except in these pictures – well, she was actually in them.  With dude.  And the kids.  Looking not so much sisterly as….wifely.  (Really, people, who leaves their profiles as ‘public’ anymore?  Well, maybe someone who know her husband is out on the prowl.)

Rutrow.

Brakes.
Screeching.
To.
A.
Halt.

Now – here’s the funny next few hours.  Being a girl….I spent a whole lot of time mulling over whether I’d miss something or misinterpreted something or confused something or was sabotaging this.

Alternating thoughts covered things like how I really didn’t like him that much anyway or how it was really no big deal or how it was nice to be back in the rodeo for a second or, most importantly, where I would be taking my car the next time.

Check your fluids?  Pass.

I have a really big rule in dating.  I mean after the I-Generally-Don’t rule.  I will never, never, never, ever be the other woman.  I just won’t do it.  I’ve had my heart stomped on like a grape at a vineyard because of an ‘other woman’ and I will never do that to someone.

That being said, I’m not against a little fun.

And the fact that I knew dude was married – but he didn’t know I knew – sort of left the door open for a little fun.

I went to work the next day fully prepared to make it a day of unforgettable text messages.  Texts like he’d never seen before.  Texts that he’d only dreamt about on his best days.

Except three texts in I wanted nothing to do with dude anymore and handed my phone over to my work husband with instructions to handle it.  Who then had some fun of his own, pretending to be me.  After several open-ended-you-have-the-chance-to-fess-up questions, dude still kept the vault locked.  At which point, we went in for the kill.

Of course…..shocker….dude promised a very long, thorough, dramatic explanation.  And when I passed on story hour, he actually got a little peevy in his next text. 

Thus ending my dabble in the dating pool.

But for the record….I did not sabotage this. 

And also for the record….”Are you married” will no be moved up on the ‘getting to know you’ questions to immediately follow “What’s your name?”

And also, also for the record – if you ARE married?  Don’t date.  It’s pretty simple.  So simple, I never thought it was something that should be pointed out.  What do I know.
And now I’ve got to cut this short.  Because Survivor’s on and I have to see what Phillip does tonight to piss off the rest of his tribe.. 

Wait…maybe men and women aren’t that different.