In the Eyes of the Beholder

I, for some reason, have always attracted troubled souls in my romantic life.  If there is a guy out there with a problem, I can guarantee you he will be asking me out on a date and naïve me will almost always say yes before understanding the full details of the circumstances I am immersing myself into.  Many times the signs of trouble are staring me straight in the face yet I have managed to see them in a different light, making me appear more gullible than I am in any other realm of my life.  Examples of such scenarios include but aren’t limited to these:

• “I don’t understand why you got a dog if you are so allergic to them that your nose won’t stop running.”  - me unknowingly questioning a fiance and not realizing he was a cocaine addict.
• “I get he’s your best friend and how much you two enjoy camping together but why can’t I ever join you?” – me feeling jealous before my boyfriend told me he was gay.
• “You’re always baking.  You should have just opened a bakery instead of becoming a lawyer.” – me speaking to a date and subsequently learning he was referring to marijuana not cookies when he spoke of baking.
• “I wish your boss will let you off on Saturdays so we don’t have to go out during the week all the time.” – me wishing aloud to a beau who apparently became free on weekends shortly after his wife and I found out about each other and she filed for divorce. 
• “I wish you would get you get your anxiety issues under control.  The mall isn’t that scary of place.  We don’t have to always run out within the first 15 minutes.” – me being emotionally supportive until I  heard the oink of a toy pig and saw a flashing red light beaming through his pants making me realize he was an anxious kleptomaniac.
• “You’re forgetting a lot sweetheart.  It could be mercury poisoning.  Why don’t you try eating less fish?” – me medically analyzing the mental state of a boyfriend who told me he was 48 when he was really 63, and later claimed to forget his true age when I caught him lying about it.

Years of such experiences have recently lead me to take a step back from dating and observe why it is I am almost always finding myself in such colorful circumstances. So these days I am flying solo, going out all dressed up and enjoying people watching from afar and alone.

Two weekends ago, I decided to get some Red Mango in Port Jeff and settle myself on a bench in front of the Gap to watch the interactions of passerbys. “Oh! I am so tired from working,” a heavy-set, middle-aged biker stated into the air before claiming the empty spot next to me.  “I work for the movie business you know and I have to work all these crazy hours to finish in time for them. I don’t think anyone can understand how hard it is until they actually have to do it. Yeah, there’s nothing like working for the movie business.  It’s a great job with great benefits. Um, so where’s your boyfriend?”

There really is no right way to answer this last question. I have tried lying and making up a boyfriend in similar scenarios only to find myself poorly improvising a life with an imaginary mate that can lead to massive story holes and frustrating attempts by me to fill them in.  Answer the question with honesty and be prepared to get badgered for what seems like an eternity.  So, I did the next best thing and ignored him completely. 

“DOOOO  YOUUUU  SPEEEAK ENGLISH? ARE YOUUUU FROM AMERICA? SE  HABLAAAA ESPANOL?,”  he shouted, each word with a shower of spit that filtered into the frizzy red hair of his long goatee before bouncing off and making it across my way.   Escape plans were hatching in my mind but none of them seemed unoffensive enough to allow me to come back to people watch at another date. This man was definitely a regular, the very type that makes main street Port Jeff savory for the imagination to run wild with on my lonesome days, offending him would risk banishment from this very bench for the rest of the season to a life without live, unfiltered entertainment.  I chose to get badgered instead and take the honesty route this time.  ‘I could just politely reject him and that will end the conversation eventually’, I thought.  “Yes I speak English but I don’t speak any Spanish and I don’t have a boyfriend,”  I said while giving up on eating my Red Mango, suddenly fearful the glistening coating on the fruit topping may have originated from the mouth of my new acquaintance.

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?  You’re too beautiful to be single.  I would swoop you up in a minute, a little pretty thing like you.  You should go out with me.  I work in the movie business and I make good money to take you out to dinner some time.  Do you like seafood?  Red Lobster?  I’ll call you up on Saturday night and take you on my bike and we can take it from there.  You never know.  Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m ever gonna ask you to marry me or anything.  I don’t even believe in marriage,” speaking as though this tidbit of crucial information should help set the record straight for me in case I do want him to propose later on down the line during our future together.

“You and I would just have some fun.  Some good adult fun.” I could feel my unique Red Mango creation working its way back up my esophagus.  ‘Are you serious man?’  I thought.  ‘Do I look desperate?’  “I work at nights for the movie business you know and I’m single because of my hectic work schedule but we can meet up on weekends and never grow tired of each other that way.  It will be perfect.  Whadda ya say?...  Hey, your ice cream is melting, you should finish it quick.  Ah, you don’t look too good, you okay?,” he paused, giving me the cue to respond. I noticed his chest heaving for breaths of air during his reprieve in a t-shirt perfectly embellished with sweat stains shadowing his underarms in half moons with the image of a woman in a precarious position across his chest.  ‘Great! Another broken soul sent my way,’ I thought.   

“I have three ex-husbands, four kids from two of my marriages and I run a business so my life is too busy for dating,” I replied dryly.

“Wow!  Four kids and three ex-husbands!  There’s something really wrong with you.  You should see a shrink or something. I think you need help. No wonder you’re single,” as he jumped off the bench fast. “I gotta go make a call. Bye.”

And just like that I was left on the bench rejected, with a melting cup of frozen yogurt and the realization that I may seem just as broken as the next person – fortunately for me in this case.