Worry not, this brilliant declaration was not directed at me. Best Friend was telling me about her friend Tina* and the man Tina is dating. Tina has apparently been on three or four dates with this gentleman. At first Best Friend told me that she and Tina were both worried because Date has not yet tried to kiss Tina, even though he calls a lot and has suggested he and Tina go away together for the weekend. Tina likes this man, so she is hoping things go her way. I suggested Tina just kiss him, as that is, in my opinion, the best way to find out how a man who isn't necessarily stepping up to the plate feels about you. Every man thrills at this experience in the moment, making for a some immediate fun. Then afterward, the man who likes you will move full steam ahead, while the one who doesn't will pull the patented fade away maneuver, leaving you wondering whatever happened to that guy you had been dating. But one way or the other, you know.
Then Best Friend mentioned that there was more to the story.
Lore has it (and by "lore," I mean Best Friend's recounting) that on their last outing, Date met Tina at a beer festival. Tina became concerned, however, when Date arrived at the festival sporting a jeans shirt and a fanny pack. A fanny pack. In 2007. Then for one reason or another, Date and Tina had to stop by Date's apartment. That's when she saw it: the unforgiving mess, the lack of real furniture and the guns strewn about. Yes, guns, as in plural. Apparently, Date was very apologetic for not telling Tina that he is some sort of sharp shooter (huh?) and explained that he would never expect her to play with... excuse me, use a gun, nor would he impose his evangelical beliefs upon her.
I'm sorry, hold the phone. Evangelical?
Best Friend said Tina failed to get details on the evangelical portion of Date's being. But don't we know enough? When she said the words that became the prized phrase of Thursday, Best Friend was acting out the conversation she would have had with Date, had it been her standing in the squalor of his living space.
Now, I have been known to date/fall for some serious losers in my time (see Bob in 1993, I.C. in 2002 and a recent infatuation I saw fit to simply nickname "Wrong"). And when these dudes dump me, as they always do, I wring my hands, wallow in self pity, wonder What's. Wrong. With. Me?, eat very little and generally indulge in some serious drama until I'm ready to shake the lout off. So I have no interest in judging Tina for liking the gun slob. But I can't help but think maybe she's lucky he's too chicken to kiss her. Not to mention that she should probably hope never to be invited back to his apartment again. Regardless, she might want to practice saying it: "First of all, you're a slob who owns guns..."
* * *
In other news, last night I went to that party I had mentioned for the Very Important Person I know. It was fun but also kind of like attending a cousin's wedding. You see, I interned in Very Important Person's office while I was between full time jobs. It's been a few years, though, and my internship was very part time. So I only vaguely recognized most people at the party, if I knew them at all, making the experience very much like watching distant relatives I never see grooving to the Prince, Michael Jackson and Cheryl Lynn records the DJ was spinning. It was still fun, nonetheless, and I did get to see my friends Debbie, Bilen and Heidi. Yay!
Tomorrow I have to work and then scoot across town for Mindi and Matt's wedding. I'll be late, but I'll arrive in plenty of time to see who is drunk and has the most potential to get out of control. And that should be a good time...
*Name changed to protect the innocent. Or smitten, as the case may be.