I got stood up recently. Just as I combed my last strand of wet hair into a neat pony tail and applied my final stroke of lip gloss. Just as I was about to tackle the pile of clothing items I had tried on and rejected in favor of what I had put on in the first place. Let me tell you, for Mrs. Potato Head, I looked like one delectable complex carb.
Some of you who have been keeping up with my life since the embryonic stages of my blog may remember Pete the dermatologist (whose name really isn't Pete and who isn't really a dermatologist but I always try to protect both the innocent and the guilty). Pete stood me up one Saturday night, and, of course, that was the end of Pete. But the thing about Pete was I had mixed feelings about him. Well, actually, I didn't really have mixed feelings about him so much as dating him. I couldn't stand him, but for some reason I preferred Saturday dinners out to staying home alone, and he just happened to be the person volunteering to sit at the table.
The recent stand up was more of a disappointment, and not just because I had neatened my pony tail (a big deal) and put some thought into my outfit -- which naturally had that shabby chic effect of not looking thought out at all (to anyone who couldn't see the three foot high pile of "no's" on my bedroom floor). I was actually looking forward to this one. Oh well, I've been known to exhibit questionable judgment, so it's not as if I had reason to be shocked. At least I looked good for my pity party.
So it's back to the drawing board on the dating front, and I'm thinking more about an eraser than any drawing utensils, because I've just about had it with men. When your most promising relationship arises (so to speak) out of phone sex, you've got problems. As if on cue, just as I was about to call it quits, I received a very insightful email from a friend (and loyal blog follower)about "real men." Here's how it started:
A real man is a woman's best friend. He will never stand her up and never let her down. He will reassure her when she feels insecure and comfort her after a bad day. He will inspire her to do things she never thought she could do; to live without fear and forget regret.
Well, duh, I'm thinking. There's my problem; I haven't been dating real men. Just real assholes. Curious, I read on, hoping the email would give me some insight as to where I might find the real thing. Blah, blah, blah, the list went on about all the wonderful things this mythical man would do, and I'm starting to remember the advice I've given to others in the past, which is "if it looks too good to be true, it is." So before I got too worked up with hope and horniness, I skipped to the end:
No wait...sorry...I'm thinking of wine.... It's wine that does all that. Shit. Never mind.
Like all fantasies, it was good while it lasted. Next time somebody asks me on a date, I'm gonna politely decline, get dressed up, stay home, and crack open a dependable bottle of red. Maybe even invite a girlfriend over to share. Maybe even order a pizza. No tears, no regrets.
Pizza, red wine and a girlfriend to share? What more could anyone possibly want? You know my number.
ReplyDeletepizza and nostalgia. im all for a girlfriend reunion!
ReplyDeleteDitto to what bpie said! Safe flight!! Happy Thanksgiving!!!
ReplyDelete