Dealbreakers
I think one of my boys got the hint. Rather, he’s always gotten it, but it seems he’s finally taken it.
I often act like an ass — or myself, depending on who’s telling the story — during the “getting to know you” phase. And I know that it takes just one wrong thing out of your mouth … “wrong” by someone else’s definition than yours … and they immediately blacklist you.
You go over it in your head. What did I say, how could I have said it better, or can I rewind time and have someone chloroform me so no one hears that.
More often, you agonize over conversations seven squillion ways to Sunday, and you still don’t know what you did to repel someone. It could be that your hair fell in your eyes and they thought of an ex. Or you chew your food like his mom does. Or it’s a full moon with Mercury in retrograde.
These are the things that can eat us alive, if we let them.
Anyway, if this one guy ever asks what repelled me … and I have a long list where he’s concerned, but let me tell you a big one.
I drive tiny, shitty Matchbox cars. Just because I floor it, doesn’t mean I’ll go anywhere. Merging in traffic is a nightmare, from the lack of power in the car to not being able to see because I sit so low.
And I hate hate HATE people in big monster trucks who feel the need to ride my ass. And down here, I notice people like to do that on purpose. A lot. Like, you can move out of the way and they will follow you … and be deathly close.
I have many a panic attack in the car because of these assholes. God is familiar with my, “Please don’t let him hurt me” mantra, followed by the deep breathing and crystal-rubbing.
So this one joker tells me, I assume not knowing what I drive, that he’s got a big truck and, for kicks, he enjoys following tiny little sports cars and intimidating them.
He was serious.
Can we say dealbreaker?
I mean, leave my anxiety out of it for a while. What kind of asshole derives joy from terrorizing others at high speeds?
Not any kind of bully I want in my life. That’s for sure.
Anyway, I think I may be rid of this one finally. I can tell he doesn’t know what he did wrong but he does know I can’t even fake it long enough to get through a hi-how-are-you exchange.
Now to get rid of the marrieds who GOD I HOPE stay that way, and I’ll be free I tell you FREE.