the dance

I have a very extensive and rigid set of guidelines in regards to men I date; he must be a he, he must be a human he, he must be a he that is taller than me. You get the point. 

I become increasingly flexible on those expectations when the winter approaches and I find myself an unlikely victim to the robotic “must couple up now” syndrome indicative of the holidays and cold weather.  I'm lucky to be dating V right now, I really am, especially when I think back on some of the more curious creatures I handed out my number to, and more, three and four years ago. 

The last guy in Dallas that I went on a date with was That Guy. He was That Guy that everyone with a 214 area code wanted to be dating for the simple reason that he was one of the 100 wealthiest people living in Dallas, a little detail he somehow managed to weasel into two conversations with me. Even if I hadn't been aware of his status, which I admittedly was, I'm not the type of girl that raises her eyebrows when someone slaps down their funny-colored American Express card. My parents have American Express cards and they have less money than I do (which is, just in case you were wondering, about $16 dollars). 

That Guy was (a) shorter than I would prefer, and (b) told me on our second date that he would really like to be in an orgy so that he could look around and be like “wow, I’m in an orgy”.  

Obviously, That Guy was a Winner.     

He also asked once, over a shared plate of $20 macaroni and a bottle of champagne, if I had ever had sex with another girl. Even if I had, which I haven't, I prefer to keep those sorts of topics reserved for occasions where macaroni is not present.  

To be fair, this was the same dinner that I told him, quite casully, "I have issues with food."

What is remarkable about that statement is not that I said it, stupid things come out of my mouth rather frequently, but rather that we shared several dates afterwards. They just happened to be dates that didn't involve food.

I met That Guy quite a while before I actually started dating him as he was the best friend of my friend Misty's boyfriend. Not too surprisingly, That Guy was almost entirely the reason for Misty and Asshole's break-up, information he was somewhat proud to relay to me for whatever reason after about five too many vodka-somethings. 

A few solid months after Misty's breakup we were drunk, as usual, and at Suite, as usual, although this time we were partying in V.I.P. with That Guy instead of doing our usual thing, draping ourselves over the bar and complaining about how unapproachable we are and why-oh-why-won't-anyone-come-talk-to-us.

Drunk off our asses, we followed That Guy and about 20 other people to his house in Highland Park for a long night of more alcohol and, of course, cocaine. Because really, what would a night out on the town be without inhaling a gram or five off of a marble counter with a whole bunch of whored-out people you will never see again?

But I did see That Guy again, the following week. 

Along with his height, I had TEN reasons to lose interest.  TEN, which is three reasons past seven which is two reasons after I should have already forgotten his name.          

Five dates later (yes, that’s three dates past the delightful orgy remark), I could easily analyze That Guy for you. I could break down every minute detail of his life from his dyslexic childhood to his wealthy dysfunctional family to his painfully troubled relationship with his hyper-competitive father into an equation that directly resulted in his mountain of insecurities and his many, many defense mechanisms. That Guy masked his vulnerability with arrogance and, even more typical, adopted a blatant aversion to anything conventional in an effort to shield himself from the shame he felt when his father divorced his mother and married a Polynesian prostitute.   

We stopped seeing each other around Christmas. I saw him again briefly, at Suite of course, and he called me that New Years from some ski slope in Europe. Sometimes I reflect upon those moments and I think to myself how easily things could have been different, how easily things could have worked out with him if I had been more willing to put in more effort, any effort. 

But I didn't. Instead I find myself at a similar time, albeit several years later, living in Tokyo with my friend-from-high-school-turned-boyfriend, wondering what other things could have been different and will, undoubtedly, be different later.

Comments

[Aislin]

I will quote my dad when I talk about stuff in the past, "Hind sight is 20/20."

That being said, all that really matters right now is, are you happy with the way things are now? If you are, the past doesn't matter. But I know what you are talking about with wondering how things would be if things had happened differently. I think about it from time to time. Don't let it get to you.

[billywest]

It's funny how most of the time you just follow some path (whether you believe it's pre-determined or not) and you usually just think that things are the way they ought to be. But, sometimes you just open your eyes, like waking up from a dream, and say, "How the f&@k did I end up here?" Usually happens about the time you arrive at a divergence point along that path. Coincidence? Cause and effect? Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

[john turningpin]

Absolutely loved this post. Extremely well-written and very easy to relate to. I think everyone has those "What if" moments. I know I do. Billy put it far better than I could have, so just read what he wrote. :)

And I think if someone told me, "I have issues with food," I would have replied, "How so?" and not thought anything of it. I'm not sure what that says about me...

[jellykelley]

I had to laugh when I read this. Even when you're happy with your partner, you still think about the old boyfriends. I still think about my ex-fiance and what would have happened if we HAD gotten married. Sounds like you traded up though. No one is happy married to an asshole. Not even a rich one.

[Juan]

@jellykelley:

"Sounds like you traded up though. No one is happy married to an asshole. Not even a rich one."

Pure GOLD!! :-)

[GEG]

What a fantastic piece. Thank god you didn't put any effort in or I wouldn't have had the chance to read any of the above!

[Tokyo Cowgirl]

Honestly, I can never tell what's going to be a "good" post or not, I'm just thrilled when I can successfully put two or three sentences together without using one single angry 4-letter word.

I think tomorrow I'm going to start back up with my Characters/Creatures of Japan Series though so I'm skeptical how long my new found ability to write a good post will last.

[Z]

you KNOW i can relate to this! and i LOVED jellykelly's response. it was very profound! :)

[guess]

I agree with you Z. I think we all have those thoughts at one point. I know that I've been there myself. I think more than anything we keep thinking "what if" about the one that got away.

[keitorin]

I've sort of had an ongoing thought chain of "that could have been me" lately, since the only guy I've ever really been with (which was for 2 1/2 years) is engaged and his fiancee is pregnant. It's extremely weird.