File under: "idiot"

So... where to even begin on this post... how about just blurting it out?

My ex-husband walked by my place on Saturday afternoon toting his new girlfriend, who, by the way, was wearing a t-shirt I gave him. (Like, oh my God, right?) They were walking across the street from my place. I live at the entrance to a big park. I was sitting on my patio. They waved at me from afar... I tentatively waved back.

That was pretty bad. Dude has a choice of park entrances, but no, has to walk by mine. Clueless, right? (And just as a refresher course -- the ink dried on our divorce less than 2 months ago).

But (just like a bad infomercial) "Wait! There's more!" They initially kept walking, but within a few seconds they turned around, walked across the street, came over to my screened-in patio and he says," I thought I should introduce you guys."

[RECORD SCREECH!!!! NAILS ON CHALKBOARD!!! EAR-CURDLING SCREAM, OR ANY OTHER HIGH-PITCHED, ANNOYING NOISE YOU CAN THINK OF HERE...]

What???????? Really???? Hello, are you from planet Mars?

I couldn't believe what I was seeing -- or hearing -- or feeling. It was like a kick in the gut. A trip to an alternate universe. An ex-boyfriend at your wedding. An former step-mom spoiling Christmas dinner for your Dad. Basically, your run of the mill awkward scene from a Woody Allen movie. All in all, a WHAATTTTT???? is emanating from your shell-shocked soul.

(As background, I had known about this unmentionable one. She is 15 years younger than him, lives in another city and they visit each on weekends. Of course, they met through his job even before we talked getting divorced... Did he cheat? Not sure, don't think so. Kind of doesn't matter at this point. Was she the catalyst for our divorce? I'm pretty sure that most men don't have the nerve to leave their wives unless someone is waiting to catch them and why would he be any different? I knew she would be here for a weekend visit. But never in my wildest dreams did I think he would parade her down my street in a t-shirt I gave him and then up to my patio to INTRODUCE US???? I mean really... What kind of fuckin' idiot is this dude???)

What did we talk about, you ask? What else? The weather. Nice day, sunny today, supposed to rain tomorrow. Seriously. That's all we talked about it. The situation was so wrong.

What I really wanted to say was: Hope you're having fun fucking my ex-husband in the house that I decorated and is all me. Yeah. Enjoy it, you bitch, and him, because I know he can't cook and won't lift a finger to do anything for you. You can have him. Oh by the way, I bet he didn't tell you he has herpes, did he? To him, I wanted to say: I hope she gives you an STD, you mother-fucker. Yeah, something really nasty. Crabs? Syphilis? Whatever, just make it raunchy.

I know. It sounds angry. But I was. Am. I mean really? Why would you want to introduce us? What good can come of this? How dumb are you?

I couldn't even have the satisfaction of ripping him a new one right away because I had to wait for her to leave town. I couldn't ball him out and then have him turn to her for consolation. No. No way was I going to give them the satisfaction of hating me together...

Two days later, though, I let him have it.

Here's what I said when I finally called him. "Did you really think that was a good idea to introduce her to me???"

Him: "It was her idea." (Just like him to throw someone else under the bus instead of taking responsibility.)

Me: Going fuckin' ballistic. "Her idea? Didn't you think about how this would make me feel? Can't you think for yourself?"

His answer: "I did think it was a bad idea."

Me: "Then what the fuck, dude????"

The real answer is: Dude is a selfish motherfucker. One of his own friends has repeatedly asked me why I was with him so long when he is so selfish... Wow. With friends like that, who needs enemies.

In the end, after nearly going insane hearing all his lame reasons why he did think it was a bad idea but did it anyway, I told him to never, ever, ever never walk her down my street under any circumstances or introduce me to her ever again even all streets were blocked, there was a nuclear holocaust, and mine was the only entrance left to friggin' the promised land. I know I can't control a public street, but in this case, it's a reasonable request. I told him we are not friends, and I am not her friend and we are not going on double dates. He said, "I know we're not going on double dates, but I thought we were friends." I said, "No, you are my ex-husband, we are not 'friends.'"

And here's the rub: Every time he sees me, he gets tears in his eyes. And he had tears in his eyes on Saturday, even with this little sassy-assed hussy bitch by his side. What the fuck, dude? You are so weird.

I told him we are done. No more talking, emails, visits for any reason of any kind. Dude, we're done, done, done, done.

You can't be friends with your ex. At least, not when your ex is a clueless, selfish fuckin' idiot.

No nerve

After my liberating "unfriending" binge on Facebook, and while in theory I liked the idea of thinning the pack, I ended up getting less attention from men. How funny, no? Maybe the normal riff raff picked up on the fact that I was having none of their shenanigans. I would argue I also had the winter blahs and probably wasn't being exactly charming or sensual (I am a summer animal). Truth be told, I still feel the sting of the divorce, and I used winter seasonal affective disorder as an excuse to feel baaaaaaad. That was goooooood, I would say. Deal now or forever hold my peace.

When I did finally go out to meet the madding crowd, I met, of course, a 23-year-old. That's a dime and half less than me for those keeping score. He's younger than my last youngest conquest... I'm freaking myself out! Of course, however, he lives here illegally. My big joke is that I am "flytrap" for illegals. I ought to be an immigration agent, because I would catch them all. From any and every country, but of course mostly the ones that speak Spanish or Portuguese. (My trainer, bless his heart, says I catch the young ones because I'm short. One of my dear girlfriends says I catch the wrong ones because I'm too friendly. Short and friendly = illegal foreign young men. Anyone agree with this theory? I just want cool and eligible men who aren't married and schmucky and who hopefully speak English and read the newspaper. Is that so hard?)

Still, he was cute. We met on our birthdays at a night club -- we have the same birthday -- and we danced really well together and all night long. We had several "dates" so to speak after the first night we met (we actually just met up to go dancing).

I was, for a moment, considering having sex with him.

But when the lights came up and the truth came out, I lost my nerve. When I had my chance, I couldn't go through with it. I knew I didn't for one second consider him boyfriend material. I knew that morning conversation over coffee would be limited, and he had never read a newspaper. I wondered if he'd ever had his heart broken. I didn't want to be the first to do that.

He's sweet and sensitive in a very juvenile way. He lives at home with his mom and two high-school aged brothers. He sent me a lot of text messages (still does -- I wonder how long it will take for him to stop sending them... I haven't replied for days). He sent me a text chain mail letter proclaiming he loves me just the way I am. He said he wanted to get to know me better than he knows myself. Wow. See? Heart-breakingly sweet. But how could I potentially hurt that poor little guy?

So, I lost my nerve, plain and simple. Probably men are better at that type of thing. Act first, think of the consequences later. But I had too much heart for that, and not enough nerve. Maybe it's like catching a fish that's just too small and throwing it back, waiting for that bigger catch. One that meets the legal requirements. That must be it... Ahhh, the hunt goes on.