This morning, as I drove into work, I listened to a Where Are They Now episode of TTFA.
A widow who had lost her husband less than two years ago talked about the experience of losing her husband, sharing it the with TTFA podcasts listeners, and how she’s found love again. As amazing as it was with the first guy! Lucky bitch lady.
I have been single forever what the actual hell is going on. Not that this nice widow deserves to be single forever or anything, but whenever I hear about someone who had true love and lost it in some tragic way, and then found new love fairly soon after, I think Good for them! followed very closely behind by What the hell. Why do you get all the romantic love? As if there is a shortage of it going around.
The date I was optimistic about last night fell very flat. He was polite, but there was a kind of awkward, lack of self-possession that leaves the other person (me) actually feeling uncomfortable. I can run with many conversational scenarios without really being rattled. Last night was no different, but man, something was off. I got the subtle sense that talking for an hour required a lot of concentration for him. And then there was the pet conversation; He had a cat that he gave away using the site Craigslist. The couple who took the cat seemed nice, he told me. Apparently it didn’t occur to him to consider a cat rescue league or something more reliable than a site known to be used for human sex trafficking. Although, at least it’s not used for cat trafficking?
Via messaging and before we met, he told me he’d love to have a dog but that he didn’t have a yard and a dog door. During dinner however, he said that dogs were a hassle and that you can’t really go out because you always have to head back home to feed them. “Why would I get a dog and deal with that hassle when I could just call a friend and ask if I could have their dog for a week?” Why? Because dog owners don’t relinquish their dog so their friends can play doghouse with them for a week. Weirdo.
As we were leaving I asked what he was up to the rest of the night. “I have some work to do” he said.
“Oh? What work is that?”
He hemmed and hawed, clearly realizing that he didn’t actually want to tell me, but sort of had to now. Because he’s (possibly?) nice but weird and clearly not too bright, it didn’t occur to him to simply say “I do my friend’s taxes for him!” Instead he stammered for a good long while, smoke coming from the gears turning in his head, until he came up with “My friend has a business and I do his accounting on the backend” (This is also known as “I run a shady, possibly illegal business operation with a friend of mine”)
At least it was over and done with quickly. We met at 7, ate an entire meal, and I was getting back into my car before my digital clock on the dash even struck 8. That’s some efficient dating.
I can’t wait to do more of this! Yahhoo!
BEAN'S BABBLETORIUM 