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4 N. Infidelity Drive
Ever wonder what makes men cheat? I didn't really until recently. This is why.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Thursday, September 30, 2010
George I
I met George on craigslist. He didn't mention his wife and kids right away, he was mostly interested in a Q&A session: Where are you from? What color are your shoes? Do you have dark hair? Etc. When it came to be my turn I got right to the point: Where do you live? Are you married? Do you have kids? To my astonishment he was very willing to answer every question I asked. He got married in his early 20's. He mentioned that he was of Greek heritage and his family wanted him to marry young.
Here is a brief snippet of our conversation:
Me: Have you always cheated on your wife?
George: Not always. I thought that once I would get married I would stop seeing other women. I was faithful for a while.
Me: What's a while?
George: Probably 3 years. I went on a business trip and met a woman there. She was at the same conference and after flirting with her for 2 days we went out for drinks. We had a lot to drink and before I knew it we were in her hotel room going at it.
Me: Huh. You must be pretty sooth.
George: Hahaha. You know it.
All I could think was ick. Who do you think you are exactly?
Me: And you had cheated on her before you got married?
George: Yes.
Me: Why did you want to marry her if you were already cheating on her?
George: My family loved her. We got along. I knew she'd be a good mom, a good wife... I just got to a point where I wasn't attracted to her anymore.
Yowza. The word 'Love' was never mentioned.
Me: Does she know that you sleep with other women?
George: I don't think so...
Me: So is she Greek as well?
George: Of course! My family would have killed me if I didn't marry a nice Greek girl.
Me: But they wouldn't kill you if they knew you were cheating on your wife?
George: Hahaha. Don't know. Probably not.
Typical.
Me: Doesn't she ever wonder where you are when you don't come home?
George: I have a buddy that lives in the city and stay there sometimes, she just always assumes I'm there.
Me: You really don't think she knows what's going on?
George: No I don't.
Then it was his turn. He asked about my romantic history, and why I wasn't currently dating anyone. I answered his questions honestly, all the while thinking about what a piece of work this guy is. He is so arrogant. he doesn't care about what he is doing to his family at all. We chatted quite a bit. His personality was lacking, to say the least. He wasn't that funny at all. He had decent taste in music and we talked about shows and artists a lot. We chatted back and forth for a few days. Then came the inevitable.
George: So can I see a photo? I really like you and want to know what you look like.
Me: Well to be honest, I've enjoyed chatting with you but I really don't think this situation is really for me. I'm not looking to get involved with someone like this. I have enough drama going on in my own life, you know?
George: I totally understand. That doesn't mean we can't be friends though does it?
Me: Well, kind of doesn't it? I mean you are looking to hook your next girl. I'm not it.
George: I really enjoy my conversations. I must sound like a bad guy to you. I haven't felt like myself for years now. When I talk to someone like you I feel closer to myself. A side of me comes out that I sometimes is lost forever. Nothing is about music or art or current events anymore. Everything is about school or work or PTA or some bullshit. I know that you don't want what I have to offer. I know that nothing will happen. I just enjoy our chats. I want to know what you look like. That's it.
I really wanted to know what he looked like too. I could always send a fake photo anyway, right?
Me: You first. I'm kind of shy.
A few moments later a message with photo attachment popped up from Georgiefeelgood (Yea, I know. Great screen name). I had an image of him and I was curious to see if the photo matched it. I imagined he would be incredibly attractive. If he were able to seduce all these women he must be because his personality wasn't going to close the deal. I opened the photo and laughed. He was short. Ridiculously thin. Had a huge nose and the photo was of a screen shot of him blowing a kiss into his webcam. Really Georgiefeelgood? Really? How the hell are you nailing these women?
George: Get it?
Me: Yep. I got it.
George: Wanna get coffee sometime?
***Crickets***
Here is a brief snippet of our conversation:
Me: Have you always cheated on your wife?
George: Not always. I thought that once I would get married I would stop seeing other women. I was faithful for a while.
Me: What's a while?
George: Probably 3 years. I went on a business trip and met a woman there. She was at the same conference and after flirting with her for 2 days we went out for drinks. We had a lot to drink and before I knew it we were in her hotel room going at it.
Me: Huh. You must be pretty sooth.
George: Hahaha. You know it.
All I could think was ick. Who do you think you are exactly?
Me: And you had cheated on her before you got married?
George: Yes.
Me: Why did you want to marry her if you were already cheating on her?
George: My family loved her. We got along. I knew she'd be a good mom, a good wife... I just got to a point where I wasn't attracted to her anymore.
Yowza. The word 'Love' was never mentioned.
Me: Does she know that you sleep with other women?
George: I don't think so...
Me: So is she Greek as well?
George: Of course! My family would have killed me if I didn't marry a nice Greek girl.
Me: But they wouldn't kill you if they knew you were cheating on your wife?
George: Hahaha. Don't know. Probably not.
Typical.
Me: Doesn't she ever wonder where you are when you don't come home?
George: I have a buddy that lives in the city and stay there sometimes, she just always assumes I'm there.
Me: You really don't think she knows what's going on?
George: No I don't.
Then it was his turn. He asked about my romantic history, and why I wasn't currently dating anyone. I answered his questions honestly, all the while thinking about what a piece of work this guy is. He is so arrogant. he doesn't care about what he is doing to his family at all. We chatted quite a bit. His personality was lacking, to say the least. He wasn't that funny at all. He had decent taste in music and we talked about shows and artists a lot. We chatted back and forth for a few days. Then came the inevitable.
George: So can I see a photo? I really like you and want to know what you look like.
Me: Well to be honest, I've enjoyed chatting with you but I really don't think this situation is really for me. I'm not looking to get involved with someone like this. I have enough drama going on in my own life, you know?
George: I totally understand. That doesn't mean we can't be friends though does it?
Me: Well, kind of doesn't it? I mean you are looking to hook your next girl. I'm not it.
George: I really enjoy my conversations. I must sound like a bad guy to you. I haven't felt like myself for years now. When I talk to someone like you I feel closer to myself. A side of me comes out that I sometimes is lost forever. Nothing is about music or art or current events anymore. Everything is about school or work or PTA or some bullshit. I know that you don't want what I have to offer. I know that nothing will happen. I just enjoy our chats. I want to know what you look like. That's it.
I really wanted to know what he looked like too. I could always send a fake photo anyway, right?
Me: You first. I'm kind of shy.
A few moments later a message with photo attachment popped up from Georgiefeelgood (Yea, I know. Great screen name). I had an image of him and I was curious to see if the photo matched it. I imagined he would be incredibly attractive. If he were able to seduce all these women he must be because his personality wasn't going to close the deal. I opened the photo and laughed. He was short. Ridiculously thin. Had a huge nose and the photo was of a screen shot of him blowing a kiss into his webcam. Really Georgiefeelgood? Really? How the hell are you nailing these women?
George: Get it?
Me: Yep. I got it.
George: Wanna get coffee sometime?
***Crickets***
Monday, September 27, 2010
Intermission
To be honest with you, this little project couldn't have come at a better time. Feeling absolutely crushed (understatement) by someone I care for very much, a distraction is desperately needed. His name is Austen and I was up thinking about this situation for most of the night. I have spent the last several days sobbing over him, wasted tears for sure. A small sampling of Austin's "heart felt" statements are:
"I love you"
"You are my guardian angel"
"You've saved me"
"You are the girl I want to marry"
"I want you to be the mother of my kids"
All of the lies he has told me are so similar to to the statements so many men seem to tell their wives. I am starting to think that maybe I'm actually lucky because though it took a while, I realized this guy is a dirt bag before becoming tied down in any sort of way. You see, the morning after these profound declarations of love and commitment comes the inevitable denial:
"I never said that"
"You must have misunderstood"
"I'm not in love with you"
This has become such a routine that I am finally admitting to myself that he is a lying dirt bag. He must be right? I am obviously not dreaming, this happens too often. I can't be imagining these conversations either. If I were to have hallucinated these talks I would hope someone in my life would have intervened and questioned my sanity. If these conversations had repeatedly taken place only in my own mind, I wouldn't be able to function as an adult. If I have achieved that level of crazy there is no way I would be able to hold a job, keep an apartment, pay my bills, bathe myself, cross the street, etc.
But I digress.
My point is that maybe the days of being angry and wanting to hide away from the world is worth it to have avoided what would have lead to more months, even years of loneliness. As painful as it is to realize someone you love so much has been feeding you a heaping helping of bullshit soup so that you would stick around and make him feel better about himself, at least it's better to figure it out before you are in too deep. Though he has betrayed my trust, my heart, and most of all our friendship at least I can walk away without leaving a mess behind. I'm not going to sit here and say that I'm not bitter or angry, on the contrary I'm the most bitter person I know.
However, that will definitely help my curiosities involving this project.
I am more blunt and won't sugar coat. I demand answers. So many friends and family members have been hurt by these strange situations one time too many. Why are men never satisfied? So many men have it all. The hot wife, money, house, cars, gadgets, etc. So often they really do have their cake and can eat it too, but it's never enough. Why do you cheat? Is marriage just another way to satisfy some void in your life? Do you marry someone because you actually love them, or because you don't love yourself and hate the idea of being alone? If someone really does love you, and care about you and want to spend their life with you, why can they only admit it to themselves at 3:00 in the morning? And how on earth are you ever suppose to trust anyone else after being physically, emotionally, and mentally dicked over?
Lucky for me, I found someone who seems to be very willing to answer all of my questions and then some. His name is George. We met online. He posted an ad on a website just stating that he was bored at work and to instant message him if you felt like chatting. That is all. He didn't give any more details about himself. I thought what the hell? We learned quite a bit about each other. He lives in the burbs. He has 9 year old twin girls and has been married for 14 years and said that his life was "an open book" and I could ask anything.
Here goes nothing...
"I love you"
"You are my guardian angel"
"You've saved me"
"You are the girl I want to marry"
"I want you to be the mother of my kids"
All of the lies he has told me are so similar to to the statements so many men seem to tell their wives. I am starting to think that maybe I'm actually lucky because though it took a while, I realized this guy is a dirt bag before becoming tied down in any sort of way. You see, the morning after these profound declarations of love and commitment comes the inevitable denial:
"I never said that"
"You must have misunderstood"
"I'm not in love with you"
This has become such a routine that I am finally admitting to myself that he is a lying dirt bag. He must be right? I am obviously not dreaming, this happens too often. I can't be imagining these conversations either. If I were to have hallucinated these talks I would hope someone in my life would have intervened and questioned my sanity. If these conversations had repeatedly taken place only in my own mind, I wouldn't be able to function as an adult. If I have achieved that level of crazy there is no way I would be able to hold a job, keep an apartment, pay my bills, bathe myself, cross the street, etc.
But I digress.
My point is that maybe the days of being angry and wanting to hide away from the world is worth it to have avoided what would have lead to more months, even years of loneliness. As painful as it is to realize someone you love so much has been feeding you a heaping helping of bullshit soup so that you would stick around and make him feel better about himself, at least it's better to figure it out before you are in too deep. Though he has betrayed my trust, my heart, and most of all our friendship at least I can walk away without leaving a mess behind. I'm not going to sit here and say that I'm not bitter or angry, on the contrary I'm the most bitter person I know.
However, that will definitely help my curiosities involving this project.
I am more blunt and won't sugar coat. I demand answers. So many friends and family members have been hurt by these strange situations one time too many. Why are men never satisfied? So many men have it all. The hot wife, money, house, cars, gadgets, etc. So often they really do have their cake and can eat it too, but it's never enough. Why do you cheat? Is marriage just another way to satisfy some void in your life? Do you marry someone because you actually love them, or because you don't love yourself and hate the idea of being alone? If someone really does love you, and care about you and want to spend their life with you, why can they only admit it to themselves at 3:00 in the morning? And how on earth are you ever suppose to trust anyone else after being physically, emotionally, and mentally dicked over?
Lucky for me, I found someone who seems to be very willing to answer all of my questions and then some. His name is George. We met online. He posted an ad on a website just stating that he was bored at work and to instant message him if you felt like chatting. That is all. He didn't give any more details about himself. I thought what the hell? We learned quite a bit about each other. He lives in the burbs. He has 9 year old twin girls and has been married for 14 years and said that his life was "an open book" and I could ask anything.
Here goes nothing...
Friday, September 24, 2010
John IV
“Interesting point” He replied.
“You know, it’s getting kind of late. I really should go.”
“No, you don’t have to leave”
“No, you don’t have to leave”
I stand up, purse in hand “Yes I really do. Thank you for the beer though” I give him a kiss on the cheek, he said he’d call me, and I walked out of the apartment and closed the door. I practically flew down the stairs freaked out. It wasn’t that the kinky stuff scared me, it was his attitude. Something just doesn’t seem right here, and I don’t feel the need to need to figure out what. He is living his life and he is making his own choices. But it is obvious that he is living some sort of double life. Maybe his wife or girlfriend just doesn’t share his interests, and so he is going outside of his relationship to satisfy his curiosities and fetishes?
At this point you are probably wondering why the heck I care so much. Why don’t I just mind my own business? Well those are two very good questions but lately I have been approached more and more by married men. At first I thought it was about me, that I gave off some sort of trashy vibe or something. But after talking to a few of these men I’m learning that it isn’t about me at all. Nor is it about their wives but completely about them. Not surprising since these particular men are thoroughly selfish egomaniacs. However, while it seems as though it isn’t any of my business, or any other single woman’s business on the exterior it really becomes our business if we are interested in having any type of loving relationship in the future.
So many of my friends and family have been broken by infidelity. I’m not going to try to cure it or fix it, I’m just going to try to understand and possibly avoid it myself. Meaning, keep myself from cheating in the future (I’m not stupid I don’t think this is a gender specific problem) but also how to identify someone who will not feel the need to cheat in the future, if that is even possible. Not just so that it doesn’t happen to me, but so that it doesn’t happen to my loved ones and hopefully by finding a faithful, kind man raise boys and girls who will grow up to be well adjusted without the trust issues so many of us have today. And if it is inevitable, then maybe find some sort of coping mechanism.
I don’t know if I’m the only one that cares about this sort of thing. If I am then this blog will be an excellent release of some frustration. But if anyone else is curious, feel free to tune in or email me and let me know what you think.
I wasn’t going to ask John any more questions. He had called a few days later and I told him that we were just two different people and that we just weren’t right for each other. Whether it is to just have fun or anything else. He sent an email a few days later reading:
“You need to rid yourself of these friends of yours. They are not good for you and associating with them only brings you grief and misery. You need to stop drinking so much. You need to stop eating unhealthy. You need to exercise and get HEALTHY AND POSITIVE things into your life. Dear, you NEED a dominant presence in your life: me. Being dominant isn't just about spankings and handcuffs. It's also about guiding you, mentoring you and making you a better person. It's about boosting you up, not knocking you down. Your submissive side is not just about the bedroom either. Being submissive means you take pride and strive for excellence in your submission but also in YOUR EVERY DAY LIFE. Come over tonight. I'll make dinner. I will guide you and offer support and get you on the right track. There will probably also be a mild D/s session. It will be different from anything you've experienced before, however.
Well? Whadaya say?”
I told him I had plans. His response:
“This means you will be going out tonight, eating fatty and unhealthy appetizers and of course, having several drinks. On a MONDAY night. Not good. You insist on doing these self destructive things”
Well in case you are wondering I never went over to Johns. He was a little too intense for me and even though at this point I desperately wanted to ask him questions and get straight answers from him, he was just freaking me out. Instead of going to see him, I went out with one of my lovely girlfriends. He was right though. We ate unhealthy food, sushi and drank a ridiculous amount of wine. We talked about how insane men are and flirted with a bar tender. It was a LOVELY evening and I wouldn’t have changed a moment of it.
Now that I can’t ask John about anything anymore I’m going to find another source of information. Where should I turn? Let’s think now. Where can I go to talk to a bunch of married men and ask them why they want to cheat on their wives and families? Where could I even find a pool of men that would even admit to being married and wanting to cheat? Ah… yes of course. It’s so obvious… Craigslist :)
Labels:
Craigslist,
email,
flirt,
girlfriends,
sex,
sushi,
wine
Thursday, September 23, 2010
John III
Well, there weren’t knives, but there was a whip. And a paddle. And handcuffs. And a something that I didn’t recognize. It was odd looking, kind of like a collar but not. “what is that?” I asked. He chuckled a bit and said “Ball gag” BALL GAG! Alright. This is all very entertaining but what the hell is he thinking?
“So is this why you can’t find the ‘right girl’, some of these items are a little intense…Might intimidate or scare someone off you know.”
“Yes” he replied, “it’s hard to find someone with the same interests, especially these interests…I’ve been involved with women who aren’t into it and it just gets boring. This is a part of who I am”
“I can understand that” Now it made sense. Odds are his wife just isn’t into this and that’s why he’s searching elsewhere. “How did you first find out you were into this sort of thing?”
“Well… I went to a club with an ex, we were trying to save our relationship by trying something new. Turned out I was really into it, but she wasn’t.”
“That’s sad. You couldn’t work things out with her? Just because you had different sexual tastes?”
“Not long term. No. So what do you think???”
“Well. Looks…. Interesting. That’s for sure.” He smiled. “Oh this isn’t happening right now, if that’s what you are really asking. I’d need a bottle of cabernet and a shot of tequila before I would let you come within 10 feet of me with all of that!”
He frowned “Do you drink often?”
“Well not every day, but I’m single and live in this city with amazing nightlife and I enjoy myself”.
“I don’t like drinkers.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t like drinkers.” He said this again, forcefully and his eyes narrowed as he waited for my response.
“Well… any reason why? You just had a beer a moment ago so you aren’t anti-alcohol”
“I don’t like how sloppy people get. I don’t like the way women conduct themselves when drinking. It is a fundamental character flaw”
“Women? Just women?”
“Yes. Just women”.
Holy hell. For such a tiny apartment the door seemed to be 100 miles away. I need an escape route this guy is making me more uncomfortable by the second.
“So, let me understand this. You are going to sit there and judge me and tell my that my character is flawed… while you are holding a bag filled with paddles, ball gags, hand cuffs, and God knows what else??? I am not judging or criticizing you for what your ‘hobbies’ and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t judge me.” I paused for a moment and smiled “or else we won’t be able to be friends now will we?”
“So is this why you can’t find the ‘right girl’, some of these items are a little intense…Might intimidate or scare someone off you know.”
“Yes” he replied, “it’s hard to find someone with the same interests, especially these interests…I’ve been involved with women who aren’t into it and it just gets boring. This is a part of who I am”
“I can understand that” Now it made sense. Odds are his wife just isn’t into this and that’s why he’s searching elsewhere. “How did you first find out you were into this sort of thing?”
“Well… I went to a club with an ex, we were trying to save our relationship by trying something new. Turned out I was really into it, but she wasn’t.”
“That’s sad. You couldn’t work things out with her? Just because you had different sexual tastes?”
“Not long term. No. So what do you think???”
“Well. Looks…. Interesting. That’s for sure.” He smiled. “Oh this isn’t happening right now, if that’s what you are really asking. I’d need a bottle of cabernet and a shot of tequila before I would let you come within 10 feet of me with all of that!”
He frowned “Do you drink often?”
“Well not every day, but I’m single and live in this city with amazing nightlife and I enjoy myself”.
“I don’t like drinkers.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t like drinkers.” He said this again, forcefully and his eyes narrowed as he waited for my response.
“Well… any reason why? You just had a beer a moment ago so you aren’t anti-alcohol”
“I don’t like how sloppy people get. I don’t like the way women conduct themselves when drinking. It is a fundamental character flaw”
“Women? Just women?”
“Yes. Just women”.
Holy hell. For such a tiny apartment the door seemed to be 100 miles away. I need an escape route this guy is making me more uncomfortable by the second.
“So, let me understand this. You are going to sit there and judge me and tell my that my character is flawed… while you are holding a bag filled with paddles, ball gags, hand cuffs, and God knows what else??? I am not judging or criticizing you for what your ‘hobbies’ and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t judge me.” I paused for a moment and smiled “or else we won’t be able to be friends now will we?”
Labels:
chauvinism,
drinking,
fetish,
infidelity,
sex,
wine
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
John II
“I guess you could say I’m just picky” was John’s response.
Really? Picky? You’re 42. If you were really single you would have met The One 4 times over.
“Picky how?” I ask.
His response? The classic: “Well… No one has been right”. Okay. Vague enough.
Now more than the typical Q&A I tend to trust an individuals reactions to statements and conversation. So I get into a little story:
“Got it. I know what you mean. It’s tough. You have it easy being a man at least”
“How so?” he asks.
“Well, you know how women are… We are always on the hunt for a man, and often over look little red flags here and there to try to make something work”
“You’re right about that!” His response is very enthusiastic. He obviously lives by stereotype. This is going to be easier than I thought.
“Seriously!” I continue on “my best friend totally fell for this one guy who worked near us. He was charming, funny, took her out on the town, made her feel like a princess, the works…. Too bad for her he turned out to be married.”
John paused for a moment before asking “what do you mean?”
“I mean he was married. Like with a house and a wife and kids living out in the sticks. His wife was apparently alright with it though. I guess some people just have an understanding in their marriages”
John is rather quiet at this point. “Well that’s sad” he replied.
“I agree, I wonder how someone gets to that point. It isn’t like you expect that walking down the aisle on your wedding day.”
“No. I wouldn’t think so”… It got quiet, and I actually start feeling bad for him at this point. If there wasn’t a motive behind this conversation it would seem like a normal lull in conversation. There was a motive though, he didn’t know it but it was there and I could see the sadness on his face. The room was heavy. It was as if someone came in and sucked all of the oxygen out. My heart began beating heavily as I wondered: Why? He looks so upset when confronted with the idea of being unfaithful… He wasn’t being attacked or judged (that he knew at least) and yet he looked like someone just ran over his favorite puppy. If this is such a troubling idea or situation for him, why does he do it? He must have some love for his wife or else he wouldn’t be so affected. Or does he have children? Is the idea of breaking his little girls heart by betraying her mother what really troubles him?
Deciding to lighten the mood I ask him how he fills up his free time and he goes on to tell me he enjoys going to the gym, reading, watching Fox News and his beloved Detroit Tigers. Then he mentions, with a smirk on his face “I do have a little secret hobby.”
“Secret hobby? That sounds fun!” I’m wondering what the heck he’s talking about
“Want me to fill you in?”
“Of course!”
“I don’t know that you’ll be into it” what the hell does he mean? Not into it? Wanting to know more I hid my confusion, looked him dead in the eye, smiled and said “Well I haven’t come across anything I haven’t wanted to try at least once”. He stood up, which totally baffled me. We were talking, why would he get up? He walked into the bathroom/den/laundry room/closet/whatever the hell you would call that thing and comes out with a canvas bag. Immediately I thought the worst… He collects knives. Or fingers, he’s going to cut my fingers off and the knives he will use are in that bag.
Really? Picky? You’re 42. If you were really single you would have met The One 4 times over.
“Picky how?” I ask.
His response? The classic: “Well… No one has been right”. Okay. Vague enough.
Now more than the typical Q&A I tend to trust an individuals reactions to statements and conversation. So I get into a little story:
“Got it. I know what you mean. It’s tough. You have it easy being a man at least”
“How so?” he asks.
“Well, you know how women are… We are always on the hunt for a man, and often over look little red flags here and there to try to make something work”
“You’re right about that!” His response is very enthusiastic. He obviously lives by stereotype. This is going to be easier than I thought.
“Seriously!” I continue on “my best friend totally fell for this one guy who worked near us. He was charming, funny, took her out on the town, made her feel like a princess, the works…. Too bad for her he turned out to be married.”
John paused for a moment before asking “what do you mean?”
“I mean he was married. Like with a house and a wife and kids living out in the sticks. His wife was apparently alright with it though. I guess some people just have an understanding in their marriages”
John is rather quiet at this point. “Well that’s sad” he replied.
“I agree, I wonder how someone gets to that point. It isn’t like you expect that walking down the aisle on your wedding day.”
“No. I wouldn’t think so”… It got quiet, and I actually start feeling bad for him at this point. If there wasn’t a motive behind this conversation it would seem like a normal lull in conversation. There was a motive though, he didn’t know it but it was there and I could see the sadness on his face. The room was heavy. It was as if someone came in and sucked all of the oxygen out. My heart began beating heavily as I wondered: Why? He looks so upset when confronted with the idea of being unfaithful… He wasn’t being attacked or judged (that he knew at least) and yet he looked like someone just ran over his favorite puppy. If this is such a troubling idea or situation for him, why does he do it? He must have some love for his wife or else he wouldn’t be so affected. Or does he have children? Is the idea of breaking his little girls heart by betraying her mother what really troubles him?
Deciding to lighten the mood I ask him how he fills up his free time and he goes on to tell me he enjoys going to the gym, reading, watching Fox News and his beloved Detroit Tigers. Then he mentions, with a smirk on his face “I do have a little secret hobby.”
“Secret hobby? That sounds fun!” I’m wondering what the heck he’s talking about
“Want me to fill you in?”
“Of course!”
“I don’t know that you’ll be into it” what the hell does he mean? Not into it? Wanting to know more I hid my confusion, looked him dead in the eye, smiled and said “Well I haven’t come across anything I haven’t wanted to try at least once”. He stood up, which totally baffled me. We were talking, why would he get up? He walked into the bathroom/den/laundry room/closet/whatever the hell you would call that thing and comes out with a canvas bag. Immediately I thought the worst… He collects knives. Or fingers, he’s going to cut my fingers off and the knives he will use are in that bag.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
John I
Have you ever entered a situation and thought “Wow. How the hell did I get here?”
That is a thought that ran across my mind repeatedly recently. This story begins with a sentence that will make every rational person’s eyes roll:
I met a guy.
He seemed great. He was a charming, well dressed, attractive professional. He was 14 years my senior which of course made him intriguing and sophisticated. I thought he just HAD to be different from all of the men my age. Guys in their late 20’s are either still running around trying to pretend they are still 19 fratting it up in the big city, or on the hunt for their trophy wife to one up all of their buddies and make them feel like they’ve ‘made it’… John on the other hand, he was of a certain age. He just had to be different. Being in his early forties he must REALLY get what life is about, right? He couldn’t possibly be as misogynistic or superficial as these other guys. He was a man. A real red blooded Midwestern American man.
We met at a work event, and went out for coffee. Coffee led to drinks later that week. Drinks led to dinner a few days later and dinner led me to his apartment on a lovely tree lined street on the east side of Lincoln Park. We enter the building, an adorable vintage place. It was not somewhere I would expect him to live but nice none the less. We walk up to his door and I am surprised at what I see. A tiny efficiency apartment. My eyes quickly scan the place and make the following observations:
My conclusion? He’s married!
No wait, I must be paranoid. Maybe he’s just frugal? He’s a tall guy, maybe he just likes to sprawl out in bed? Maybe he doesn’t have any photos up because he doesn’t have any family… or friends… or maybe he just moved in? That’s it. He must have just moved in and doesn’t have all of his things unpacked yet. But there aren’t any boxes around. They’re probably being delivered sometime soon. “So John, how long have you been here?” “Longer than I care to admit”. Damn. He opens his refrigerator door. There was a case of beer, a bottle of ketchup, and some sort of tupperware. “Would you like a beer?” he asked. “Yes, please”. Wow beer is all you have for me here? I needed something a bit stronger than that to get through the rest of that evening. Just to make sure I wasn’t being silly here, I had decided to conduct one more quick search. I went through the closet to get to the bathroom and closed the door. He had a pedestal sink and not much storage around. I opened the tiny medicine cabinet and found a razor, toothpaste, and a bottle of prescription medication with his name and a different address on the label. Totally married. Now I’ve been in this situation before, but I’ve always been able to weed these men out before a second date, or in some cases before even a first. The signs are usually pretty obvious:
I had been duped. This is obviously John’s sex lair. All of a sudden I felt dirty. Several questions raced through my mind ‘How many women does he bring back here?’ ‘Does his wife know?’ ‘Does he share this place with a few other guys?’ ‘Do they schedule out their time here?’ ‘Have some sort of tie on the door knob signal?’ ‘Gross.’ I could hear my friends judging me already. Thinking I must be a total idiot to fall for this. Then a few seconds later, I no longer felt dirty.
Just angry.
I begin to realize the older I get the more I am approached by married men. Why? The idea starts to make me ill. As I exited the bathroom I saw him sitting on the sofa, he was patting the cushion next to him. I sat, with a million thoughts running through my mind. Do I slap his cheek and storm out? Do I pour this crappy Miller Lite on his lap and storm out? Do I launch myself into a tirade yelling about how all men are obviously scum, regardless of the age? No, no actually I don’t think I will… Instead I remained perfectly calm, held my can of beer and cross my legs, smiled and asked:
“so how is it that a good Midwestern Catholic boy like you hasn’t found yourself a lady…..”
This is going to be fun.
That is a thought that ran across my mind repeatedly recently. This story begins with a sentence that will make every rational person’s eyes roll:
I met a guy.
He seemed great. He was a charming, well dressed, attractive professional. He was 14 years my senior which of course made him intriguing and sophisticated. I thought he just HAD to be different from all of the men my age. Guys in their late 20’s are either still running around trying to pretend they are still 19 fratting it up in the big city, or on the hunt for their trophy wife to one up all of their buddies and make them feel like they’ve ‘made it’… John on the other hand, he was of a certain age. He just had to be different. Being in his early forties he must REALLY get what life is about, right? He couldn’t possibly be as misogynistic or superficial as these other guys. He was a man. A real red blooded Midwestern American man.
We met at a work event, and went out for coffee. Coffee led to drinks later that week. Drinks led to dinner a few days later and dinner led me to his apartment on a lovely tree lined street on the east side of Lincoln Park. We enter the building, an adorable vintage place. It was not somewhere I would expect him to live but nice none the less. We walk up to his door and I am surprised at what I see. A tiny efficiency apartment. My eyes quickly scan the place and make the following observations:
- None of the furniture matches. We have a plaid chair next to a paisley sofa next to an office lamp sitting on a file cabinet.
- There is a massive king size bed in the corner. Sheets but no blanket, and one flat pillow.
- There is a large closet with no door that has 4 dress shirts and 2 pairs of slacks hanging in it.
- Paint is peeling off the walls and ceiling in large, noticeable strips.
- He has no family photos up, paintings, or personal artifacts of any kind.
My conclusion? He’s married!
No wait, I must be paranoid. Maybe he’s just frugal? He’s a tall guy, maybe he just likes to sprawl out in bed? Maybe he doesn’t have any photos up because he doesn’t have any family… or friends… or maybe he just moved in? That’s it. He must have just moved in and doesn’t have all of his things unpacked yet. But there aren’t any boxes around. They’re probably being delivered sometime soon. “So John, how long have you been here?” “Longer than I care to admit”. Damn. He opens his refrigerator door. There was a case of beer, a bottle of ketchup, and some sort of tupperware. “Would you like a beer?” he asked. “Yes, please”. Wow beer is all you have for me here? I needed something a bit stronger than that to get through the rest of that evening. Just to make sure I wasn’t being silly here, I had decided to conduct one more quick search. I went through the closet to get to the bathroom and closed the door. He had a pedestal sink and not much storage around. I opened the tiny medicine cabinet and found a razor, toothpaste, and a bottle of prescription medication with his name and a different address on the label. Totally married. Now I’ve been in this situation before, but I’ve always been able to weed these men out before a second date, or in some cases before even a first. The signs are usually pretty obvious:
- Wedding ring tan line.
- Two cell phones.
- Only wants to meet between 10am-1pm or 3pm-5:30pm and only during the week.
I had been duped. This is obviously John’s sex lair. All of a sudden I felt dirty. Several questions raced through my mind ‘How many women does he bring back here?’ ‘Does his wife know?’ ‘Does he share this place with a few other guys?’ ‘Do they schedule out their time here?’ ‘Have some sort of tie on the door knob signal?’ ‘Gross.’ I could hear my friends judging me already. Thinking I must be a total idiot to fall for this. Then a few seconds later, I no longer felt dirty.
Just angry.
I begin to realize the older I get the more I am approached by married men. Why? The idea starts to make me ill. As I exited the bathroom I saw him sitting on the sofa, he was patting the cushion next to him. I sat, with a million thoughts running through my mind. Do I slap his cheek and storm out? Do I pour this crappy Miller Lite on his lap and storm out? Do I launch myself into a tirade yelling about how all men are obviously scum, regardless of the age? No, no actually I don’t think I will… Instead I remained perfectly calm, held my can of beer and cross my legs, smiled and asked:
“so how is it that a good Midwestern Catholic boy like you hasn’t found yourself a lady…..”
This is going to be fun.
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