... is that the two people are incompatible; that is, that one is male and the other female." - Anna Quindlen
No, this isn't a Dipshit story. This is a story about ReTodded.
Several weeks ago, I met a guy we'll call ReTodded. A few red flags: he was 47, his son was old enough to date my sister, and he had no teeth. No, seriously. He wore his MOTHER'S DENTURES on a date because his didn't fit well.
Don't ask.
Anyways.... The usual "we met online" yada yada yada. Before our first date, we were talking on the phone and he asked about my profile. "It says in your profile you're not looking for your second husband. So are you opposed to getting married again?" he asked.
"Um...." I thought about it. "No, I'm not opposed to getting married again. It's just that it's not what I'm looking for right now."
"But if you met someone you wouldn't be against it, right?" ReTodded asked.
"No, I suppose not. But it'd be awhile before I made that decision."
"How long?"
"Two holiday seasons. See, I have this theory." And I do have this theory. I firmly believe in this theory. I'm willing to carve this theory into stone if need be. "I have this theory that you need to be in a relationship for two holiday seasons before you know if it's going to work or not. Because the thing is, that first holiday season is your first holiday season. You're both on your best behavior, bending over backwards to accommodate the other person. Breaking the budget to get nice gifts. That kind of thing. But by the time you get to the second holiday season, all bets are off. The gloves come off even. Now you're your true self and no one is afraid to let the shit fly."
There was a pause while ReTodded digested this bit of information. "Wow," he said slowly. "And here I thought six months seemed like a long time."
We went out. He was charming. He paid. We went out a few more times. I paid once or twice. I'm a big believer in picking up the check occasionally. I think it shows that a) I'm not with you because you buy me drinks and food and such, I'm with you because I want to be and b) in this economy, money's tight. Don't spend all of your hard earned money on me.
A few pink flags went up, though. Not going to lie. ReTodded lived with his mother due to unemployment and a divorce. Originally from the Port Huron area, he was looking to rent a house in that area even though he works in Troy and spends over $500 a month in gas. I asked about his choice. He explained he was only looking for a six month lease to see if a) he could afford it, b) to make sure the commute was workable and c) what if he "met someone who lived in say, Troy?"
Did I mention our first date was the same day I picked up my keys to my apartment in Troy?
And another pink flag. My friend Paperboy literally lives around the corner from my best friend Amanda, whom I have an annual house sitting gig for while she and her husband go on vacay in October. It's not an area I know well, though I'm getting better, and so I'd occasionally text Paperboy or Marshall for GPS services. ReTodded about hit the roof when he found out.
"Who's this Paperboy guy?" he demanded.
"Um, my friend who also doubles as my office's paper distributor?" I replied.
"Why are you talking to him?"
"Because he lives right around the corner from Amanda and knows the area whereas I don't."
"Are you sleeping with him?"
"WHAT?!?! NO! He's engaged to Mo!"
"Who's Mo?"
"The other Monique. She's engaged to Paperboy."
"I don't share well."
"You're not sharing." Nor are you exactly in a position to be saying these things really, I thought to myself.
We went out that evening and things went well until....
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Retodded asked.
"Unpacking." I had moved my stuff from my Chicago storage unit into my two bedroom apartment, but six years of storage makes for some really dirty stuff so unpacking was a slow and laborious process.
"Tell you what. How about I come over tomorrow morning after work (he worked midnights) and you and I can play around, and then I'll sleep while you unpack."
My mind froze. I couldn't think of anything else except "Oh my gosh, he's using me for my apartment!" My new digs are only a half mile from the engineering firm where he worked. "Um, I don't really care but both my parents are going to be there," I finally said. Truthfully.
"Oh."
We continued with our date and then we said goodnight and I went to bed while he went to work.
The next day was the Michigan vs. Michigan State game, a HUGE event here in Michigan. We had earlier agreed to disagree on which was the better school ReTodded was a Michigan fan (hence the nickname) and I was rooting for the Spartans. I got a text from ReTodded in the early afternoon saying he was with his son and some of his son's hockey buddies drinking and watching the game. After Michigan State won, I sent him a "Sparty on!" text.
No response. Which was relatively unusual.
By seven o'clock Sunday night, I still hadn't heard from ReTodded and sent him another text. "I didn't think 'Sparty on!' was that offensive."
"No, it's not that." Retodded texted back. "I just don't think we're compatible."
Two days ago you're telling me "you don't share well" when I told you I was texting my paper distributor and now you're telling me we're not compatible? What?
I left it alone.
The following weekend, I was on a wine tour with my friend Ginger when ReTodded texted me. A few texts went back and forth, and there was some talk about maybe seeing one another later the next week but nothing was set in stone.
Wednesday, I sent ReTodded a text about meeting up. And that's when he told me.
"I'm seeing someone" he texted.
"Since when?"
"Last week. She's the mom of one of my son's friends. The kids played hockey together."
So what was the Saturday texting thing about? I wanted to ask. But didn't. Because believe it or not I can actually hold my tongue every once in a while. So instead....
"Isn't it ironic that you were out with your son and his hockey friends the day before you told me we're incompatible?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" ReTodded asked.
"It means I think you met someone else you'd rather be with instead of me and used the bullshit incompatible excuse to get rid of me."
"You can think what you want. Best of luck to you."
And that, dear readers, is the story of ReTodded.
And ReTodded, if you're reading this, my sister's boyfriend has his Uncle Elmer's dentures. Maybe those will fit better.
Love the last sentence! You're not still talking to this guy are you?
Posted by: Jen Wagon | January 05, 2012 at 08:33 AM
Apparently you missed yesterday's post where I said that ReTodded had made a reappearance. OH! Night before Christmas Eve when I left early. He would be why. Well, that and I had consumed my fill of adult beverages. :)
Posted by: Monique | January 05, 2012 at 09:13 AM