Introduction To My Book!

Introduction:

I was born February 14, 1971.  That’s right, Valentine’s Day, the official day of love. I should have some special insight on love and dating.  I should be floating through life in a perpetual state of euphoria with the perfect man by my side.  Cupid himself should be channeling his matchmaking skills through me so I could help all women find their true love. Unfortunately, I wasn’t born with any unique ability to seek out fairytale love for anyone, including myself.

I am the token single girl in my group of friends but I didn’t always hold this title.  I was involved in two long-term relationships in my twenties and even got engaged at the age of twenty-eight. I thought the rest of my life was going to be wonderful.  How could I not?  My fiancée was my best friend, a date for every occasion and a gift giver on holidays, including my birthday.  I had companionship, security and what I thought was everlasting love.  My happily-ever-after came to a screeching halt six months before my wedding day.  I realized that I would be happier single than being married to an alcoholic.

            Not being married with at least one child by the time I turned thirty freaked me out but I got through it.  Like everyone else, I assumed that being single was just temporary.  I met a couple of potential husbands but luckily I stopped ignoring the red flags and walked, more like ran, away from disaster.  I suppressed my urge to panic and continued to search for the right man for me.  I was frustrated with being single as I fumbled through the horrible world of dating.  It took years but I came to terms with the possibility that I may NEVER find the right man.  I embraced my single status and truly enjoyed my lifestyle but it wasn’t easy.  As a matter of fact, it was one of the most difficult things I ever had to do.  For some reason, people couldn't comprehend how I could possibly be happy with living a lonely life.  I assured them that I wasn't lonely but that only made them question my mental stability.  Clearly, there was something wrong with me.

            At some point, I fell for society’s belief that there was something wrong with me and sought out professional help.  Being single and comfortable with idea of never getting married wasn’t normal.  I was supposed to be desperately searching for a husband not just dating for the fun of it.  Trust me, dating wasn’t always fun but I did find enjoyment in some aspects of it.  Or did I?  Maybe I was fooling myself to believe that I could live a fulfilling life alone?   Maybe I was depressed or even deranged and didn’t even know it!  I got tired of defending my lifestyle and made an appointment with a therapist.  I needed someone to help me understand what I was obviously missing.

Yup, Another Blind Date

         Lisa was so proud of herself when she got Michael to agree to go on a blind date with me.  She met him at the hospital where she worked as an Occupational Therapist and immediately thought of me when he mentioned that he was single.  It took a few weeks but she finally convinced him to call me.  I had no idea this was happening.

            “He’s really cute and loves Italian women.  He was super excited to meet you when I told him you were Sicilian.”  Lisa said over the phone.

            “Why?  Does he expect me to make dinner?”  I asked

            “Hum, good question.  Who cares, just go out with him!  He is a doctor.  How bad could he be?”  She asked.

             "Fine, I'll meet him."  I said.

Lisa was relieved since she gave him my phone number earlier that day.  He called me a few hours after she told me about him.  

We talked a few times before our date.  He had a deep sexy voice and said the funniest things!  This guy had a lot of charisma and I couldn’t wait to see him in person.

He arrived at my home a few minutes earlier than he said he would.  Luckily I was ready and eager to go.  Lisa was right; he was really cute!  Standing at 6’3”, his blue eyes danced when he spoke and his wavy brown hair was flawless.  I thought for sure I would be in love with him by the end of the night.  We walked to his car and he opened my door like a gentleman.  I reached over to the driver’s side and shoved his door open just in case he was testing me.  We both laughed at my gesture then talked about movies.  He was shocked with I told him that I don’t like Mob movies.

“I don’t believe you! Who doesn’t like Mob movies?”  He asked

“Me.  I don’t like Mob movies.”  I said.

 “I want you to hear something.”  He said.

      He put in a CD and Italian music blared from the speakers.  It was ridiculously loud! I reached over and turned down the volume. 

“Don’t you like Italian music?”  He asked

“I like it, it’s just really loud.”  I said

“It’s the GoodFella's soundtrack!”  Michael said proudly. 

“Oh, I never heard it.”  I said.

“What do you mean?  It’s GoodFellas, the story of your heritage.”  He said

“You can’t be serious.  My heritage is not a mob movie.”  I explained.

            We drove around for about thirty minutes listening to the soundtrack.  I tried to talk to him but he was too busy singing his heart out.  I didn’t know what say or do. I tried to turn down the volume but he stopped me.

“I love this song….wait, wait, wait.  You have to know this one!”  Michael said as he turned the music up louder. 

I turned the music off to ask where he would like to eat dinner.  I could see that he was a little hurt by my actions but I really didn’t care.  Driving around all night listening to Italian songs isn’t my idea of a good date.

 “Can we just get something to eat now?”  I asked him. 

“I’m sorry.  Sure. Anywhere you want.”  He said.

            I suggested Sushi and we agreed on an Italian restaurant.  I didn’t care where we had dinner.   I just wanted 100% of his attention so I could learn more about him.  I was determined to salvage this night.

            “How long have you been at the hospital?”  I asked

            “About six months.  Where in Sicily is your family from.”  He asked.

“Meilli.” I answered.

     At first I thought that he was genuinely interested in me but it became clear that he wasn’t.

“Come on, tell me the truth. Is your family connected?”  Michael asked.

“Connected how?”  I asked

“You know.  The Mob.”  He whispered.

“Are you serious?”   I asked

“Yes, I need to know.  I find the Italian culture fascinating.  Especially Sicilians.”  He explained. 

“Contrary to what you’ve seen in the movies, not all Italians are involved with The Mob.”  I said. 

“I get it.  You can’t talk about it.”  He said

“There really isn’t anything to talk about.  My family is not involved with The Mob.”  I said.

“Okay.”  He said with a wink

            He asked one stupid question after another then quoted movie lines.  I must have changed the subject about a million times.  Sadly, he wasn’t getting it.

            “How many semi-automatic guns does your father own?” He asked.

 “OH MY GOD! SHUT THE HELL UP!!”  I yelled.

The waitress dropped off the check, he paid for dinner and we left the restaurant in silence.  He attempted to play his crappy soundtrack on the car ride home but I threatened to through his CD out the window.  I called Lisa as soon as I got home and strongly suggested that she NEVER fixes me up again. 

Mustache Guy

            Once in a while I get lonely.  It’s not a bad thing it’s just something that happens from time to time.  Lucky for me I have friends like Jennifer to get me out of my rut. 

“You need wine and I’m free.  I’ll meet you in an hour.”  Jennifer said during our phone conversation.

“You’re right, I need wine and a pity party.”  I said and met her at our favorite bar.          

The restaurant was crowded but there were four open chairs at the bar to choose from.  First choice: next to a group of early thirty-year old guys sweating through their suits.  Second choice:  next to a seventy-year old grey-headed man with a jet-black mustache.  The sweaty suits exploded in cheers after something they saw on TV so we sat next to the Mustache Guy.

            “What am I doing wrong?”  I asked Jennifer.

            “Who the hell knows, maybe you shouldn’t be so available.”  She suggested.

            “Too available for who?  I would LOVE to play a stupid dating/head game with some guy right now.”  I said louder than I should have.

“You’re single?”  Mustache Guy asked.

            “Yes she is.  Do you have anyone for her?”  Jennifer asked.

           

            I tried to kick her but missed.  I knew where this conversation was headed but I couldn’t stop it.  He seemed harmless and he bought us a round of drinks so we politely included him in our conversation.  He asked why I was still single and I replied with my canned answer;  “I haven’t met the right guy yet.”

            I thought for sure he was going to tell me what I was doing wrong.  I thought he as going to tell me that I was too picky or that I should lower my standards.  I didn’t feel like defending myself tonight.  I wanted to have a drink with my friend and forget that no one liked me.  Mustache Guy didn’t dwell on my answer though instead he talked about himself.

           

            “You should have seen me when I was in my twenties.  I couldn’t keep the ladies away!  I dated two to four women at the same time and wanted to keep doing it but one of them got pregnant.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my son but that changed my life.”  He said

            “Your son got you to settle down?  That’s great!”  I said

            “Settled down? No way!  I didn’t tell her to get pregnant so she couldn’t tell me to stop dating!  I only had one girl on the side instead of four.  It wasn’t easy but it worked.  I got married to the mother of my son and we had more children but I never settled down!  I was wild and crazy then and I still am today!”  He said proudly.

            Jennifer and I sat there in silence.  There really wasn’t anything we could say and laughing was out of the question.  He bragged about his infidelity, fast cars and vacations.  I wanted to push him off his chair and I knew that Jennifer would have helped me.  Who does this jackass think he is?  More importantly, what sane woman would get involved with him and his awful mustache?  I was about to ask him where he found his ladies but he got up to leave.  We thanked him for the drinks as he walked behind us and I turned around to shake his hand.  He smiled and said it was his pleasure.  He then grabbed my hand to pull me closer to him and whispered something in my ear.  I thanked him as he walked towards the door.

            “What did he say to you?!”  Jennifer asked.

            “He offered to spank me.  He said he’s been thinking smacking my ass the whole time he was sitting there.  He told me where I could find him tomorrow night.”  I said 

            “Are you going to meet him?”  Jennifer asked

            “Doubtful.  I will say that my pity party is officially over.”  I said then took a sip from my glass of wine.  

The Business Associate

            I met this guy at a bar.  Actually, a friend I run into every time I go to this particular bar introduced us.  My friend was happily married and loved to hear my dating stories.  They made him feel good about being out of the dating world.

            “I want to introduce you to someone.  He’s a REALLY nice guy.”  He said

            “That’s what everyone says.”  I said

            “Ha!  True but this guy really is.  Look, I’m trying to get him to move here to help me with my business. “ He explained.

            “So, you’re pimping me out?”  I asked

            “Sort of.”  He admitted.

            “No thank you.”  I said

            “Come on!  Go on one date, that’s all I’m asking, just one little tiny date.  What do you have to lose?  You’re single, he’s single; you two are a perfect match.”  He said.

            “We are a perfect match because we are both single?”  I asked

            “Yes.  Just meet him.”  He said

            Before I had the chance to argue his ridiculous statement; a 6’3” bald man appeared and the formal introductions were made.  He was sort of cute, if you like the football player type.  Personally, I don’t. 

            “So it’s all set then.  I’ll see you Wednesday night at 6.”  The Business Associate said as I collected my things to leave.

            “Sure, whatever.  See you there.”  I replied.

            I had a bad feeling about this guy but what the hell, I could be wrong.  He could end up being the love of my life.  I arrived at the restaurant on time and walked towards the bar area.  I noticed that the friend who introduced me to The Business Associate was leaning up against the bar.

            “What are you doing here?”  I asked

            “I wanted to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”  He said

            “What do you mean?  I thought you said he was a nice guy.”  I said.

            “He is but he’s a typical guy and sometimes men do stupid things.  I don’t want him to end up being another bad date story.  I figured I would be here just in case.”   He explained

            “Well, thank you, I guess.”  I said

            I found a table in the bar area and made myself comfortable.   My friend kept me company while I waited for my date.  It was 6:15 and there was no sign of The Business Associate.  I wanted to leave but my friend insisted that I stayed.  Part of me thought I was being tricked.  Maybe my friend, who was married, wanted to meet me tonight.  Maybe he was secretly in love with me and figured he would lie about fixing me up so he could take me out on a date.  I was about to lecture him on being faithful when The Business Associate walked in, twenty minutes late.  I wasn’t happy and made sure he knew it.  He apologized then did some stupid male handshake crap with our mutual friend.  The waitress brought over appetizers and drinks and our friend took a seat at the bar. 

            Within five minutes of the date, I knew I didn’t like this guy.  Within fifteen minutes I wanted to leave.   I couldn’t pretend to be impressed by the fancy schools he attended or know the people he named dropped.  I tried to find something in common with him but was unsuccessful.  I started to politely wrap things up when he invited me to a weekend away.

            “Are you serious?  You are inviting me to romantic weekend in Newport RI?  Next weekend?”  I asked

            “I am.  Newport is beautiful and I could see us having a great time there.”  He said.

            “I’m familiar with Newport but I don’t know you.  Why would I leave Connecticut to go on a second date with a stranger in another state?  Not just a date; a romantic weekend!  Don’t you think that’s a little extravagant? How do I know you’re not going to kill me and leave my body to rot?  No thank you, I don’t want to end up being a missing person.”  I said.

            “Do you really think I would harm you?”  He asked.

            “I don’t know but I’m not willing to find out!”  I said.

            “I’ll get us separate rooms if you’d like.”  He said

            “No thank you.” I said again.

            I pulled my sweater off the back of my chair and grabbed my wallet out of bag.  I looked across the table and saw the disappointed look on his face.  I felt bad for him and got mad at myself for being mean.  I didn’t have to accuse him of being a murderer, I could have simply said no. 

            “I’m sorry.  I know you wouldn’t kill me.  I just don’t feel comfortable going away with you.”  I said.

            “It’s ok, I sort of understand.”  He said.

           

            I felt better after my apology.  He asked if I wanted anything else; I didn’t.  I asked what how much money I should leave for the tab but He didn’t answer me.  Instead he pushed out his lips and started to pout.  He then tilted his head down and raised his eyebrows.

            “What are you doing?’  I asked but he didn’t answer me.

            “Are you pouting?”  I asked and he nodded his head yes.

            “Can you please stop that?”  I said and he shook his head no.

            “Seriously.  Stop!  You look like an idiot!”  I whispered loudly.

            Our mutual friend jumped off his bar chair and ran over to our table. 

           

            “What are you doing?”  He asked The Business Associate.

            “I’m trying to get a second date.”  He replied still pouting.

            “That’s how you try to get a second date?!”  He asked.

            The Business Associate bobbed his head up and down.  Our mutual friend was just as mortified as I was. 

            “You got this?”  I asked my friend

            “Yup.  I’m sorry.”  He said as I walked away from the hot mess.

I never heard from The Business Associate again.  I did see my friend a couple of months later.  We pretended that my date never happened.    

Thank You

I just wanted to take a minute to thank you all for reading my blog.  I am deeply flattered each time you comment on my facebook/twitter page and approach me in person to tell me how much you love my stories.  I'm also thrilled when I hear that you've encouraged others to check out my blog!  Your complements and support are overwhelming and very much appreciated.

THANK YOU ALL VERY, VERY MUCH!!!!

Boston Boy

           It was a sweltering summer day and I couldn’t wait to get out of my car and into my boyfriend’s air-conditioned apartment.  That’s right, I said it, my boyfriend.  I finally got one and his apartment complex had a pool! Bonus!!   

We met at a friend’s party in Boston and his interest in me was a complete surprise.  He was a few years younger than me and lived over an hour away so when he emailed then called me, I was a little suspicious.  What did this 6’2” Bostonian want from me?   After a couple of conversations and a few dates it became clear that he wanted me to be his girlfriend.  I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this title but what the hell, he was nice enough.  I was in!

“The air conditioning in my car isn’t working.  I hope the frozen blueberries I’m bringing for tomorrow’s poolside party survives.”  I said to Boston Boy as I sat in traffic on the Mass Pike.

“They should be fine.  I have to warn you, I’m a little crabby.”  He said

“I am too and this traffic isn’t helping.  Would you be ok if we stay in tonight?  I’m exhausted.”  I asked

“Of course.  I was hoping you would say that.  We’ll get take out and watch a movie.”  He said.

“Sounds good to me!”  I said and prayed that the traffic would let up.

Three hours later, I was sitting on Boston Boy’s couch and replying to work emails while he was on-line trying to claim a free movie.  He was having a difficult time and was very vocal about it.  For some reason, this genius couldn’t figure out how to claim a free movie. I suggested that he call customer service but he didn’t want to do that.  I suggested that we watch whatever was on TV and he whined that he earned a free movie and that he was going to claim it.  I offered to pay for the stupid movie but he didn’t want my money.  I didn’t have a choice; I had to ignore him to avoid an argument, just like a real girlfriend. 

I finally lost my patience when he let out an irritating whimper.  I wanted to shake him and scream  “ZIP IT!”  Instead, I asked him to walk away from the T.V, out of the apartment and get us dinner.  Thankfully, he left and I was able to finish my work, change out of my suit and pour myself a glass of wine.  Ok, I was officially ready to be a good girlfriend.  

Together, we transferred the food from cartons to plates and got cozy on the couch.  The food was pretty good but the red wine was crap.  I didn’t care though, I had a boyfriend and we were doing boyfriend/girlfriend stuff.  I didn’t think I would ever be this happy.  I have eaten in the finest restaurants, sipped on expensive wine and traveled to exciting places for dates (all things I love to do).  But there was something special about balancing a plate of food on my lap with this guy that trumped it all.   

Boston Boy cleared his throat while I enjoyed the moment.  I looked over at him to see if he was ok.  He had a smile on his face; which made me smile.  I finally got what I’ve always wanted and I was happy.

            “You know, you beat out a 24 year old.”  He said arrogantly.

            “Pardon?”  I asked completely surprised.

            “I could be with a 24year old girl right now but instead, I’m with you.”  He explained.

I put down my fork and took a sip of wine while I put my thoughts together.  I wracked my brain trying to remember when the hell I entered a contest to win this jackass of a prize.  I had so many questions and one of them was why would he want to ruin this?

“What are you talking about?”  I asked calmly

“Like I said, I could be on a date with a twenty-four year old girl tonight but instead, I’m here with you.”  He repeated.

            I remained calm while I thought of the right thing to say.  Clearly the perfect moment was ruined but I didn’t think it was worth breaking up over.  I decided to chalk this up to a guy saying something stupid until I noticed that he was still smiling; I couldn’t let it go

            “So, tell me about this girl.”  I said and I have no idea why.

            As he described this stunningly beautiful twenty-four year old blonde, I ran through the events from my day and what a pain in the ass it was to get to Boston.  I thought about the outfits I packed, the ingredients I lugged from CT to make the perfect summer cocktail and how excited I was about spending the weekend with my boyfriend.  I looked over at him again and watched his eyes dance as he talked about the twenty-year old.  I knew I couldn’t ignore this.

“By all means, if there is anyone in the world that you would prefer to be with right now, please go be with that person.  Don’t let ME stop you.”  I said

“Don’t be mad, it’s a compliment.”  He said

“A compliment?  What world do you live in that makes you think that any part of that statement would be complimentary? Saying I have pretty eyes is a compliment, not this crap!  How would you feel if I told you I TOO could be with a twenty-something year old guy?”  I asked.

            Our argument escalated and eventually I said “whatever” and dropped it.  I wanted to salvage my weekend and this relationship.  I knew that we would have our share of arguments so I guess this was our first fight.  I went into the kitchen to infuse the blueberries with Vodka then went to bed.  I was exhausted from it all.

            I almost forget about our fight the next morning when he asked if he could play golf with a friend on Sunday.  I told him that it sounded like a good day for him and that I would be able to get home early enough to have lunch with my parents.  Our second argument ensued.  Apparently, he wanted me to say that I would sit in his apartment and wait for him.  Well, that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen.  After an exchange of about a million “But Babes” he admitted that he never had plans to play, he just wanted to see what I would say.  Really!?!?  Is this what having a boyfriend is like?  Hurtful statements and insecurity games? 

My friends arrived while Boston Boy and I were fighting.  I was relieved to see them and no one knew that I was yelling only twenty minutes earlier.  I really needed a drink to get through the day and I was dying to try the blueberry cocktail I put together.

            “Is this a bad time to tell you that I don’t care for blueberries?”  Boston Boy asked as I handed him a glass.

            “Are you allergic to blueberries?”  I asked.

            “No, I just don’t like them.”  He explained.

            “Don’t drink it.”  I said as I pulled the glass away from him.

            He grabbed his glass and carefully sipped it.  He gave me his approval and I stopped myself from punching him.  It was over, all I needed to do was play out this weekend and lots of vodka was required.

My plan of getting drunk worked so I knew nothing could bother me now.  I didn’t even care when Boston Boy went shopping with my friend and me and freaked out when I bought an $80 dress.  He felt that the $80 should have gone into our retirement fund.  I was confused so he broke it down for me.

Apparently he didn’t like the fact that I “get” to retire before him.  The thought of him going to work while I stayed home in about twenty-five years upset him.  Seriously, he was visibly upset.  I’ve been working my ass off since I was fifteen years old and no one will ever tell me how to spend the money I’ve earned.  As for my retirement plan; I don’t see him living with me at an Assistant Living facility on a beach with a decent bar.  He’ll totally get in my way of staring at the ocean, playing bingo and flirting at happy hour. 

This was the final argument and it lasted the longest.  I didn’t care how happy I thought I was or how sweet this guy pretended to be; I was done!   After a couple of phone conversations and an awkward dinner it was over. I could have sucked it up and ignore the weekend from hell; at least I would still have a boyfriend.  Ahhhhh….screw it, no man is worth all of this aggravation.