File Under: "You Sure Know How to Pick 'Em"

You may have noticed, Amigos, that I haven't mentioned my gentleman caller in a while. Things have been smooth. Being a somewhat private person (well...among my friends I'm very happy to dish, but I'm just not quite ready to get all crazy out here in blogdom yet) I kept it to myself. We have lot of fun, and he is odd and quirky and somehow just right up my alley. I like him.

However, he did some strange things over the last 2 1/2 months. Nothing terrible, But a string of things that slowly compose a picture. Take this for instance. I was at his apartment. It is very sparsely furnished. One comfortable chair and a couple of ottomans, and that's about it. I don't mind that at all. I actually like it. So we were watching television (the RNC, which is a whole story in and of itself), and I was in the comfy chair. I'm the guest, it seems appropriate. I asked him a few times if he wanted to switch, because that's the kind of person I am. He said he was fine.

I get up to use the bathroom. I come back, and HE'S in the chair. And he wasn't doing it to be funny, I think he just really wanted to sit there. So...I sat on the floor. No big deal, I know. But when you add that to the time that he and I went for a walk and not only did he not even once offer to help carry the things i'd gotten at Outpost (and this was a LONG walk, and I had bought 5 bottles of salad dressing because they were on sale) at one point he was a good 7 feet in front of me. Again, not major things by themselves, but they come together to paint a certain type of picture. And there were many more things, Amigos. All minor. But as I told my friend Alabaster Mom, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And drop it did.

He was free Saturday around 7:00 pm. I agreed to bring a pizza over to his place. Easy peasy, right? He lives in a Milwaukee suburb about 10 miles from my house. It's a 20 minute-ish drive. So I order a pizza. While getting ready to leave, I realize I'd left all of my makeup at work (don't ask). I'm not huge into makeup but I like to wear a little, so I had to make a quick stop at Walgreen's and pick up the bare essentials, which I proceeded to apply in the parking lot. I was also wearing a new top that I had bought that day at Kohl's. Not too fancy, but fancy-ish. In my world, I was dressed up.

I pick up the pizza at 7:00 and drive to his house. As I'm getting off the expressway (about 4 minutes from his place) my phone rings. It's him.

"Where are you?"
"I'm just getting onto Howard Ave., I'll be there in a minute."
"Oh."
"Are you at home?"
"Yes."
"Everything OK?"
"Yeah, I was just curious."

I figured he was calling because I was a tad on the late side.

So, I get to his place. We sit down to eat some pizza (me on the ottoman, him in the comfy chair). I asked what he'd done during the day. He'd helped a friend clean out his car, and his friend took him to lunch. That's when I noticed he wasn't really eating his pizza, which I mentioned. "Yeah, I had a really big lunch."

OK...

He then said that a friend was going to call him about going to a church festival nearby. I figure maybe we'd go there later. So his phone rings, it's his friend, he gets some details and hangs up. Takes his plate of pizza into the kitchen, returns his pieces to the box and says:

"I'm going to go over to the festival. Did you want to go?"
"That could be fun. Do you think I'd enjoy it?"
"I don't know. It's just going to be me and a bunch of guys."
"Well, if you don't think I'll have fun I won't go, it's alright."

Then he proceeded to tell me about how one of these guys is a woman basher who won't hesitate to insult me to my face (when I asked him why he was friends with him he insisted this wasn't his friend, but a friend of a friend), and I'd probably be miserable. So I reiterated, "If I won't enjoy it, it's fine, I won't go."

Mind you, I wasn't angry or confrontational, I was my usual mellow self. Anyone who knows me knows that I have the patience of Job and am very, VERY slow to anger. To a fault, probably. But it's just my nature.

That was when he put his shoes on. To leave. He wasn't just going to the festival. He was going to the festival NOW.

So I packed up my stuff and we walked out. I was at his place probably for about as long as it's taken me to write this far.

I was disappointed. I wasn't happy. But I wasn't really mad, at least outwardly. Some of that is pride. I don't like people to know when they've hurt me. But some of it is just my own good nature.

He couldn't figure that out. "You're OK with this?"

I responded "I don't begrudge someone time with their friends. If this is something you want to do, then go and do it." He told me how laid back of me that was. Whatever.

I explained that I'm not the kind of person who is going to say "You can't be with your friends."

Now, that doesn't mean that I don't think what he did was pretty rotten, because I do. But I don't think it's worth the trouble of me getting all bent out of shape about it, at least in my dealings with him. So we parted ways. He was getting very lovey dovey and sweet with me and thanking me, etc. He decided he'd only be there for about an hour and then he'd call me.

Again, he commented on my demeanor, and I told him "It takes a lot to get me angry. Just keep trying, you'll get me mad some day." I told him what really makes me mad is being blown off. And it does. And I also said I don't like people taking advantage of my good nature. He told me how much he hates that too, and how he'd never do that and blah blah blah.

So, I went home. I walked in the door at 8:10. I'd been with him a total of a half hour. I was upset, I was disappointed, and I felt foolish. I'd prepared for this. I'd bought a new blouse, I'd bought makeup I needed, I'd picked up a pizza, I'd made the drive to his place, and he kicked me out in order to go to a lousy church festival.

In the end, I was probably more sad than mad. The anger did arise, of course, but again, it was overshadowed by disappointment and, in a way, shame. Like I'd made a fool of myself in preparing for what turned out to be nothing.

But, I went home and changed into something more comfortable. I watched some television. I did a crossword puzzle. I called a friend. By the time 10:45 rolled around I realized he wasn't going to call. Or maybe he was, but it could only be interpreted it as a booty call, and that wasn't going to happen.

So, I texted him saying "I guess you changed your mind?"

I went to bed.

Now I was angry. He'd done the very thing he said he doesn't do, and the very thing I told him 3 hours ago made me mad. He blew me off.

Then I cried. Being stood up (and hopefully my gentle readers haven't been there, but unfortunately this wasn't the first time for me) is so insulting, so humiliating.

I wasn't crying over the prospect of losing him because at this point having a relationship with him would be SO much more trouble than it's worth. I was crying over everything I'd done that day. I was crying over the excitement I felt at seeing him. I was crying over how casually he led me out of his apartment. I was crying because I was so unimportant to him that he couldn't tell his friends he'd already made plans for the evening. I think that may be the biggest reason of all. Going to a lousy church festival meant enough to him that he essentially asked me to leave. That's just...I know it shouldn't, but it makes me feel SO bad. I'm not worth spending time with. And he'd made plans with me first.

My friend and I were talking about if this is something we would do. I remember doing things like that in the past. But we're talking when I was in high school, maybe college. That was back when you didn't want to miss going out with your friends because they were going to have all the fun and you wanted to be a part of it, and you weren't mature enough to realize you may hurt someone in the process. It was never anything I ever did frequently because it wasn't a nice thing to do, and as I matured I just never did it at all. I may have to break plans, sure. Life happens. But I could never DREAM of doing what he did. The time to break plans with me was before I showed up at his house. At the very least, the minute my foot crossed that threshold it was a done deal.

At least in my world.

I can put up with a lot. Some people may see that as weakness, or an inability to stand up for myself. It's not. I just have a very high tolerance. And it's not bottled up either. I don't blow my stack at some later date. I'm just quick to forgive.

But I do break. And I do stand up for myself.

Once I reach a certain point, when my tolerance is stretched to its limit, when I've finally had enough (and the majority of people I know never push me that far; it's a very select few) it's a done deal. You've blown it, and it's irreparable.

I'm never mean about it, I never actively confront someone about it. It's just over. Take someone I work with (please). I had put up with a lot from her, dealt with her moods, tolerated her confrontational behavior. But one day she exhibited such behavior toward me, such unwarranted venom and vitriol, that I knew I couldn't relate to her on any type of personal level. We are on civil terms, we have an OK working relationship. But I cannot deal with her on any other level. She blew it. I saw some ugly behavior from her and that she can never redeem.

It's the same here. There were quirky things, but they were quirky, tolerable, no biggie.

What happened Saturday was downright thoughtless and unkind, and I can't allow myself to be open to that.

So, I did what one does in this situation. I've deleted all text messages and phone calls from him (I never committed his numbers to memory...they just downloaded into my cell phone) so that even if I wanted to call him, the only way I could figure out his number is if I go into my cell phone bill to my outgoing/incoming calls, and there's no reason I'd ever need to do that. I've deleted all emails. I've wiped him off my caller ID on my home phone.

I don't know if this was his way of dumping me? I mean, who listens to someone say how much they hate being blown off, agrees, and then proceeds to blow the other person off? I pretty much handed him "how to get rid of me" on a silver platter. But...would someone really do that? How low can you go?

Of course, he obviously can go pretty darned low. But who would actually take such a roundabout, rotten way to get rid of someone? Jeez, if he didn't want to see me it's as simple as telling me. End of story.

I have no idea what was going through his head. I have no idea if he thinks I'm still there for him. I just don't know anything about him, really. I thought I did, but I don't.

So, alas, no more gentleman caller.

But, in a very strange twist of fate, I got an email from a guy I saw casually a while back. We've known each other for a long time, and he's always been kind of sweet on me. And he has this uncanny knack for contacting me when I'm in the midst of guy trouble, without fail. And in a way that's kind of nice. It reminds me there are other fish in the sea. Not that he'd be one of them, because he's kind of a dick. But it's nice boost to my ego to know he's been thinking about me.

My gentleman caller, though...well. I think I can see clearly why he's single.

p.s. Should any of you feel like mentioning what a dick he was, and how rotten what he did was, please feel free. Even if you don't know me, feel free to tell me. And what I've written here is the unabashed truth about the situation. I haven't added or embellished or anything. No exaggeration. This is EXACTLY what went down on Saturday, sad as it is. So, yeah, if you feel like tearing him a new one, I say have at it!

Author's Note: A dear friend read this and mentioned that I was far too accomodating (true) and that I should have said more at the time (also very true). What I may not have conveyed above is that I was, frankly, stunned. The full effect of what went down didn't really sink in until I was home. So, in an ideal situation, I would have settled things there, but I guess I felt like someone had socked me in the gut, you know? I wouldn't have known where to begin.