Chapter Thirty Nine; Guys are like Shoes and other Dating Land Adventures

Annie is finally divorced.

And when she moved out of the two homes she shared with her ex-husband (yes two), it took her all of one day . . . just to move her shoes.

Her shoes.

It is hard to imagine not being happy with $20,000 worth of designer shoes in your closet, isn't it?

Obviously, the sweetest parts of life can not be bought.

The last few weeks I have been dabbling in dating. And I wasn't really trying to. A couple guys landed in my life in very normal nice ways so I thought I'd make another trip to Dating Land. I'd made a pact with myself to stop running away screaming the moment someone showed any interest in me and just be open to what life has to offer.

It has been.

Interesting.

Velly. Velly. Intallesting.

Because all that happened is I have ended up thinking a lot about Annie's shoes.

The deal is the guys as of late have just simply not been a good match for me. They honestly are great souls, but I’ve uncovered lifestyles and circumstances that . . . just don't work with Audra. Some of these experiences have literally been like trying to pair a stiletto with a work boot. Nothing wrong with the stiletto or the boot. They just obviously can not be worn together.

Well, you could. But people might stare.

Here are my stories:

On Wednesday night I went to dinner. With a guy who had actually called me on the phone a few days earlier, and after a fun conversation sweetly confessed, "Ok, the real reason I am calling is to see if you would like to go out this week?"

It had been a long time since someone had actually asked me out so I said sign me up can we have steak? And he said hell yes and I said whoo hoo and next thing I know, its two days later and I am participating in something that sure looks a hell of a lot like a date.

And it was fun.

(And delicious. Here’s to sirloin. Yum-Oh!)

When I got home that night, I decided to go for a walk with a guy I had met the previous week. (Hey, if I am going to date, I am going to date. I figure as long as I can't get a disease from any of the dating activities multiple partners is fine.)

Besides, both these guys are fall on the floor hot. And hell yes I am going to brag about that part because after the year I’ve had I am way so oh entitled to the occasional arrogance attack. But with two interesting and gorgeous options all of the sudden, I felt obligated to myself to take full advantage.

(Not that kind of advantage.)

But honestly? If I am a stiletto then one of these guys is a funky flip flop and the other a beautiful high end tennis shoe.

First, my evening stroll with the flip flop (Hold on, I'll get to dinner with the tennis shoe in a bit. Trust me, this story needs to be told first.)

Let me cut to the chase: Flip flop is a raving maniac.

Literally.

He does the Rave thing.

Anyone seen Dateline? 20/20? Spent some time in Europe? Yes. When I say Rave, I mean Rave. Techno music and lots of Ecstasy.

I have but one thought: This is the Midwest. There are raves here? How many people actually do this out here in rural America? Like 12? And I find one of them? I can’t win the lottery but I can find this guy? And here I thought the worst thing I would stumble across is an alcoholic cowboy. Apparently not....

The conversation where this was revealed was the last conversation he and I ever had.

Yeah.

We were on our walk at the time and I pretty much continued with the walk.

Alone.

Buh.

Bye.

I called Susie from my cell immediately upon arriving at my front step.

"Isn't that where they suck on pacifiers and wave glow sticks around and listen to techno music and do a butt load of drugs for days on end?"

“You’ve seen Dateline, too, I take it?”

“Shitchya.” she confirms her source (geez we are goody goodies), and then kids, "Oh, come on, doesn't that sound like fun??!!?"

"Yeah. If you’re retarded." I quip. I was pissed. Probably at myself for demonstrating such severe misjudgment. This was upsetting.

I had really liked talking to Raving Maniac.

Seriously.

He is my age, I met him at a normal place in a normal way, he is in the same profession as my former DLTC which is a very normal thing to do with your life. He seemed perfectly normal! Seemed being the operative word. And normal obviously being a subjective state. (I am sure he thinks he's normal and I'm the weird one. Yeah well, none of my hobbies can get me arrested. That’s all I am going to say about that one.)

On to my steak date with the high end tennis shoe:

Alright. This guy is beautiful. There is not another word for him. Not hot. Not cute. Not attractive. Just plain beautiful. Abercrombie beautiful. As in, "I almost want to just do nothing but stare at him all night long across the table and forget about the sirloin" beautiful. Which is saying a lot. I really REALLY like steak.

But he is too young. And I am extremely hesitant about that whole cougar deal.

The last time I exhibited feline-like behavior it really did not go well. I am a confident and professional woman. When I tried dating someone so much younger it was not at all like dating. It was more like a hostage situation. And I don’t mean fun things like blind folds and hand cuffs. I mean I was the one calling all the shots. I was forever saying, "Let's go here!" or, "Let's do this!" And even though I am super ego maniac of the universe, I am still a fan of the guy doing the chasing. That whole thing was just wrong.

I like to think of that experience as the step-sister scene from Cinderella. That shoe did not fit at all and trying to make it work just hurt too damn much.

Tennis Shoe guy was aware of my prior cougar prey debacle and that I am now subsequently jaded beyond jaded on May/December situations.

So, what did this beautiful boy do? He came to dinner prepared. He brought a fortune cookie fortune he’d gotten earlier that day that said, “Take a chance.”

He slid it across the table at me and winked.

I smiled.

Oooh.

He’s good.

I have to confess: our evening was super fun. He was hilarious and I had a great time. But it was dinner and he’s still too young. He’s kind of a tenacious guy though, so we’ll just have to see. Because I have a feeling he might be pretty good at chasing. But for now, I’m putting him under the incompatible heading simply because of the age difference.

Oh get off my back! I am just trying to be realistic. Odds are he isn’t a match for me either.

Hmmm, but maybe just one more date . . .

(What? Don't you like my stiletto/tennis shoe look? Bite me. I'm a trend setter, ya never know . . .)

Stay tuned on that one.

So, it's only been a couple weeks that I've let myself be open to dating again. And truthfully? The guys I have found so far are honestly good souls. Even Raver Dude. He was fascinating and smart and funny and sweet. Sigh. But I have my bare minimum criteria which includes "no regular illegal drug use" so there isn't anything I can do about that one. And Ashton the second is awesome. But he can’t change when he was born so that’s just a fact.

And so.

So far . . . so weird.

Well, I'm going to try to remain positive. It's not like I'm running into jerks. I'm just running into people who are just not the shoe I am looking for.

Looks like I am just going to have to limp around here a while longer.

An in the meantime all I can do is just hope that at the rate I'm going I don’t end up giving Annie's shoe collection a run for its money.