“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” ― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
No, I'm not getting married. At least not any time in the near future that I know of and I don't think my parents traded me for two cows and six goats (which is a steal by the way. I am worth WAY more!), but you never know. (If any of you knew my father, he would have in fact done that just to get a laugh and embarrass the hell out of me; if my mother would have let him have the goats that is). I have, however, met a few men who wanted to get married right away. I'm not talking 90 Day Bride type of thing, just immediate conversations about getting married and how I would be perfect for them.
It is kind of weird and just well…. you'll see.
When I first re-entered the dating scene, I was still living in New Mexico. Not a horrible place to be, but there are some questionable dudes living there. I matched with this guy, and we started talking. First it was text and then he wanted to chat on the phone (OK, listen. Unless your hair is on fire or I have won the Powerball lottery, I am not a HUGE fan of phone conversations. Why, when I can text you and walk away for hours before I reply again?).
We spend a few days chatting and finally decide to meet up for drinks and see how it goes.
I need to preface a few things first:
1. He doesn't look like his pictures, so I walked right past him and,
2. He was a little more, shall we say intense, than I ever would care to deal with.
I get to the bar and I as I mentioned walk right by him. Now I know we don't always look exactly like our pictures and we try to put our best ones out in the cyber world (I think I mentioned that before), but this guy……other than his hair deficiency (which was by choice), he didn't look anything like them. Not one bit.
He grabs my hand as I walk by, we say hello, and sit down to chat.
Me: The margaritas here are pretty good, I think I am going to order one. What about you?
D: I don't drink, but I don't mind if you do. As long as you don't have too many.
Me: Well, I don't typically get drunk when I first meet someone, but you never know. I may just break that rule today and let loose (sarcasm really does go along way).
D: OK, I have had other people do it to me in the past.
Me: Wow, that sucks.
As the conversation goes along, I notice that D doesn't blink or break eye contact. I start to wonder, is he like one of those aliens from MIB that has these transparent eyelids, or does he have one of those freakishly long tongues and he stealthily licks his eyeball when I'm not looking. I mean our eyes are not meant to dry out, they are meant to stay – don’t hate me - moist.
And, it is kind of unnerving when someone stares at you like that. I am beginning to understand why the other women got drunk.
Me: You are kind of intense.
D: Yeah, I've been told that before.
Me: (thinking, well maybe you should take that as a hint) Oh, well, why are you so intense?
D: You're pretty and I always try to learn as much as I can about the people I am going to marry.
This was one of those moments where I wish I had a movie soundtrack to my life. Not necessarily the music, but the sounds and this sound would have been that record scratch sound when someone takes the needle off the wrong way.
When weird moments like this happen, I tend to stop and just stare. Not because I want to be unnerving like Mr. Intense over there, but because I know what I want to say, and I need to control my mouth and say what I should say.
Me: (What I wanted to say – YEAH…. No. Thanks, but I think we need to at least put a piece of IKEA furniture together and maybe, oh I don't know, have a full-on meal before the proposal, but what do I know! Silly me!)
What I did say was - Oh, wow. Well, you know, I am not looking to get married right now. I don't know if I ever want to again, I mean, I was married for 22 years, and I would really like to spend the time getting to know someone before I get married again. But, thank you for considering me. I am sure there is someone out there who will be perfect for you (pat me on the back. I thought I handled that one pretty well).
It was D's turn to stare at me.
Picture this, you have the intense stare, and now you are tied to a chair, sitting under a spotlight with the intense stare still going. I didn’t think his stare could get any more intense. Boy, was I wrong! I started to wiggle around in my seat and play with my napkin just to avoid the stare.
D: Are you sure?
Me: (still wiggling) Yup, pretty sure. I think I want to go this one solo for a while. Thanks again though (I look down at my drink). Well, I'm going to head out, I'll pay up at the bar.
And I left.
I have to admit if you know yourself well enough that you know what type of person you want to marry before you know all of their weird quirks (I mean come on, I have funny quirks trust me on this or ask my kids. They will be more than happy to share), then go for it. Just make sure people are aware of your intentions up-front.
And for the love of GOD, please blink!! I honestly felt like I should dab the napkin in the water glass and hand it to him telling him he has something in his eye, just to get him to stop looking at me.
You would think this is a one-off case and that I wouldn't run into Mr. Intense stare again….Hahaha!
Sometimes it's just better not to think.
I learned that Mr. Intense stare has a brother, Mr. Intense stare down at you.
I am starting to wonder if they read those silly romance novels to get a hint on how to date women, and they think the intense stare is actually the smoldering stare? Which that in and of itself is creepy enough. (If you don't know what that is you REALLY need to pick up one of the old Harlequin books from the 80's that your mom had and read it. OMG! The writing is epic, and you learn all about smoldering stares and intense men!)
(I had to look this up for an example, so don’t go there with me) “Tiffani glanced up while ringing the ticket and looked right into Broderick’s smoldering stare as he stood near the door. He took out his cell phone, typed something and walked out of the door.” – Harlequin Kimani Romance
There you go. Smoldering stare.
One of the first men I met during this round of dating Russian Roulette, seemed kind enough although he lived 50 miles south of me. He actually worked reasonably close to where I live, so it wasn't inconvenient. Again, we chatted for a bit on the phone (still with the damn phone conversations) and via text for a few days.
G: I really want to meet you. When can we get together?
Me: I'm free Sunday, we could meet for coffee.
G: Great! I am going out of town next week, and I just have to see you before then.
Me: OK, or we could wait until you get back if you don't have enough time.
G: No, I'm good.
We meet halfway between where we live for coffee, but the shop was closed, so we go over to the noodle place for a quick bite and a chat.
G: I am gluten free are you OK with that.
Me: (thinking, you do you boo boo) That's fine, I have friends who are.
G: Great, some women think it's weird.
Me: I don't, we all have our things. (I really do try to be accepting of everyone's things)
We get our noodle bowls and sit down to chat.
G: You know I thought I could just come to your place after work every day to shower after I workout in your gym.
Me: Um, well, we haven't really even finished our official first date, don't you think that is kind of sudden?
G: No. I really like you, and I think it would be a good thing (as he stares intensely…G is 6'2" way taller than the original Mr. Intense stares, so it comes across like he is trying to overcome my wayward will).
Me: I think we should get through this date first and then decide where it goes from here.
G: (grabs my hand and won't let go) I just want you to know upfront, I am in this to get married, and I think you would be perfect for me.
Me: (completely freaking out because the dude just grabbed my hand and won't give it back!) I don't know if I am perfect for anyone. I mean, I swear like a sailor, I chew with my mouth open, I drink A LOT of red wine, and I snore (I don't actually snore, at least no one has told me I do).
G: We can teach you to act more like a lady (still holding my hand in the death grip) once we move in together. (I ignore the comment)
Me: (Still trying to retrieve my hand and slink away in a manner that I find totally unbecoming. Thinking I should have had J safety text me about some made-up emergency). You know, I am actually OK with not being a lady. How about we table this discussion for another day? I really need to run home and um….
G: OK, so where do you live? I'll come over tomorrow after work, and we can talk about it.
Me: (thinking, that's OK Mr. Serial Killer, I am going to bug out now and leave you to your marriage musings). I am not really comfortable with that yet and besides my neighborhood is gated, so if I forget to call the gate, you can't get in. Let's talk about this later.
I firmly pull my hand away from his and, run out the door, yelling a thank you for the meal and conversation as I went.
I will admit I didn't handle that as well as I could have, but the dude had my hand, and all I could think of was “let me go”, and I didn't want to cause a scene. However, I would have if he didn't finally loosen his grip (my former trainer F would kick my butt if I didn't do something soon).
I was never scared, but I was also completely turned off.
When I got home, I sent him a note (texting and driving is illegal in Colorado, and I would never, ever do that, so I texted at home) – "thank you very much for lunch. I appreciate you driving up to meet me. I think that at this time I am going to focus on myself for a bit, so I don't think this is going to work. Thanks again and good luck on your search."
I never heard from him again.
I'm not opposed to marriage; I just don't seek it out. I can support myself reasonably well, and I don't want any more children (I love the ones I have, and I don't really think I need to make any more mini me's.). So, it isn't at the forefront of my mind when I meet people. I would prefer to form a lasting connection and see where that goes.
I don't however, disagree with Mr. Intense stares down at you (AKA Mr. Intense stare #2), though when he says that we have made relationships too disposable. It is too easy for people to just walk away and devastate us. I do think that most people today who talk about finding a LTR (long-term relationship) really want one, but they don't want to put in the effort. And, when things get crazy, they don't want to work at fixing it, it's too easy to go find someone with less drama. Disposable.
However, I also don't agree with trapping someone into a marriage that, if it doesn't work, is expensive to extrapolate ourselves from. I'm just not sure what a happy medium would be.
I think Cher says it best, "The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing – and then marry him." And I think that it isn't just women. There are some men, obviously, like that too.
However, However…. For the lucky guy who can possibly talk me into getting married again – well you will get the complete package! I mean, who doesn't want to have someone in their life who swears like a sailor and chews with their mouth open?! And is worth more than two cows and six goats?!
Just saying!
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