The Man And His Dog (Part I)

The Man and His Dog
My second disaster involved the guy I showed my co-worker the pictures of the day the last one got all up in my business about being online. After emailing and then talking we decided to meet for dinner. After what a disaster the musician lawyer was, I was still somehow optimistic. We had a nice dinner, good conversation and a hug goodnight – as I reflected on the night I decided although he didn’t go to any great lengths to get himself all dolled up, that was okay. He was a seemingly normal, enjoyable, down to earth guy. For the next few weeks we communicated on a regular basis – mainly email and text, which was not my ideal method of communication, but whatever – and we saw each other about once a week. The first couple dates we went out to dinner and a couple times I made dinner at my place. On the fourth or fifth date we went to dinner and then back to his house.

It should probably be mentioned that my idea of a “pet” is a fish. They don’t poop everywhere, shed, bark and most importantly they don’t hump you. I am NOT an “animal” lover. I’m not necessarily a hater either, you won’t find me out torturing a cat (mostly because that would mean I would have to get close enough to touch it, which would immediately send me into a fit of sneezes) – but I am pretty sure my life would be fulfilled if I never own a furry friend. So we went to his house and I spent the entire evening being mounted by his puke-breath dog. Sick. Cats were definitely my least favorite as they make me sneeze and my eyes swell shut, just not my best look. But a close second on my “pets never to own” list, are dogs. Especially the big, drooly, need constant attention dogs. Well, lucky me, he had one. The dog constantly jumped on me while I minded my own business on the couch, oblivious to the very obvious fact that he was NOT a lap dog. Then he kept bringing me his stupid toy to play tug of war. I was near tears several times – no lie. I was sure things couldn’t get worse. I was wrong.

I was so busy trying to ignore his non-lap, lap dog I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. The fur ball had made his grand entrance and pranced right onto my lap. I leaned back as far as possible and calmly said, “ I’m allergic” to which my doting date replied “just push him off” – duh, push him off, WHY DIDN‘T I THINK OF THAT. Oh wait, that would involve me touching the fur ball – not great for the allergies, but whatever. I left that evening fighting back tears, craving a shower and feeling a little discouraged, but I also decided there was hope. I mean in comparison, the night was a success! No tirades about fat chicks or feelings of disgust when we kissed, things were looking up. I would simply plan things away from his house. As often as humanly possible.

The Beginning of the End
We had not seen each other in a week or so and I was going to be leaving town for Thanksgiving. He suggested stopping over to see me for a while before I left. It went fine, normal – we watched TV, kissed, cuddled. Then he left and that was the last time I saw him (sort-of, that will come later). I guess I should’ve known something was changing because he, who was usually the phone call/text/email initiator, wasn’t initiating anything.
I called him once over Thanksgiving weekend and left a message. He text me the next day saying sorry he missed my call and told me about his car dying. Really? Your sorry you missed my call? You’re not sorry. People who are sorry don’t text that they are sorry, they try and call back. I’m just sayin’.
The next week, after I was back in town, I emailed him about getting together and he called me that night to figure would what night would work. (The man can use the phone!) We decided to get together on Thursday. When Thursday rolled around I emailed him to see what he wanted to do (which was standard – we always had our plans made by the time we got out of work). He replied totally indicating we were still getting together, so around 10 a.m. I emailed him a couple ideas that wouldn’t cost much (after he declared we should do something cheap since he was “broke this week”) In the email I sent suggestions I also made a crack about where he was spending his money. I wasn’t entirely serious – and yet, it was the second time he’d made a comment like that, so I was hoping he’d pick up that it was a little annoying. I mean really – if you’re broke, fine – but then get creative – suggest a picnic lunch and a walk. Whatever. So – after I sent the email with suggestions, that was it. He didn’t reply.

I left work at 5 p.m. having not heard back from him – which was not normal. Needless to say, I was totally annoyed. Finally around 6 p.m. I called and (shock of all shocks) got his voicemail. I left a message saying “I’m assuming we are not getting together, but wanted to make sure”. Nothing. Finally around 10 p.m. I was getting a little worried. I am not a complete idiot – I knew there was a 5% (or less) chance that something bad happened (and let me tell you – it would’ve had to have been REALLY bad for me to find it excusable), but, you never know. So – I sent a text saying “I can take a hint – please let me know that you’re OK.” Nothing.
So – the entire way to work the next morning I am furious – talking to my sister thinking of all possible reasons he didn’t call (diagnosis of fatal disease he can’t bring himself to tell me about, wandering around somewhere with amnesia not knowing his own name, etc.) But when I got to work I had an email with the subject “I’m Sorry”. Oh – this better be freakin’ good or you’re going to be sorry – was my first thought. Not so much. He said how he didn’t feel well and left work early (funny he didn’t mention that into the email to me). He took some meds when he got home and thought he’d sleep for a couple hours, but didn’t wake up until 10 p.m. He knows he hurt my feelings and he’s sorry. I really wasn’t sure what to think of this or how to reply. Possible – yes. Probable – not so much. After consulting my relationship experts (and by relationship experts I mean sister and bff), I emailed him back: “I’m not really sure how I feel about last night – if you’re not interested in pursuing a relationship with me, please let me know. I would’ve liked to hear from you because I was worried”. Nothing. I figured that was my answer – time to start moving on. 

That night I’m at home watching TV and I get a text, “my car died again, waiting for a ride – thought I’d say hi” and then something like "between the car problems and being sick, I've been pretty stressed out lately". I’m sorry – what?! I was beside myself – sat on my couch and laughed like a crazy woman having no idea how to respond or even if I should respond. What was this guy’s deal? After consulting my REs I responded “Yea – car problems can be stressful – give me a call in the next couple days, when you have a chance.” At that point I wasn’t feeling the least bit confident and really wanted a chance to ask what the heck was going on. I never heard from him again. Well, technically I did – but it wasn’t until months later and there were some in-betweeners, so I’ll get into Part II later. So, I looked at the positive – I was off the hook from spending time with that four-legged, drooling, shedding, bed breath having, non-lap dog. NEXT.