Thursday, October 05, 2006

A cute guy hits on me, post-breakup

Only blond men from now on. I am down on dark men. My apologies to 99% of the world's population, but you can trust a blond. No, that's not it, exactly. You can count on blonds. For the record, I consider myself a blond. Dark blond, yes, some would say light brown, but I cling to my blond identity. And occasionally I help to bring out my "natural" blond color, as I did last weekend. My hairdresser really has no concept about what "medium blond" means, however, so I ended up with light golden, Aryan Nation hair. Oh well, it's a look.

Yes, the ex is dark-haired. And okay, I admit that I just think that blond men are particularly hot. (I like redheads too. Strawberry blond? Perfect.) Large blond men. Tall, strong, brawny blond men. With friendly blue eyes and bright smiles. Preferably with blond chest hair and lots of it. And big strong (but not too big) muscles. Smart, but kind of outdoorsy too. That is my "type."

I have never had a significant dating relationship with any man of my "type." And I've only slept with maybe one or two of them. At least, I figure I must have at some point, but I really can't recall any at the moment. But surely, somewhere along the line...

One week after the breakup, I'm out drinking with a couple of buddies. It's late, around 1am or so, and the place isn't particularly crowded. But my friends, and the cocktails, have cheered me up quite a bit, and I'm trying to explain the "only blonds" rule to them. I'm trying to be funny, but yeah, I really do sorta mean it, at least for the moment.

A guy comes up. He sees us laughing and we probably look friendly. He does too. He's tall and cute and has a great smile. He introduces himself and maybe even compliments me about something; I don't remember what exactly he says. But he's definitely interested in me. Still:

"Sorry, I'm sure you're wonderful, but I'm only going out with blond men from now on." I say this with a smile. My tone of voice makes it very clearly a statement of policy, not a flirty come-on.

He's still smiling, but his smile turns into one of those frozen ones that says "Okay, maybe he didn't really just say that, but I'd better just walk away." And he does.

I don't have a heart of stone. I am essentially, I hope, a nice guy. But now I am pissed with myself, and a thought crosses my mind: "What if that guy was to have been the next love of your life?" I am, at that moment, a total jerk and there is no way around it.

A few minutes later, the same dark-haired cute guy is passing by our little group again. And I touch him on the shoulder. "Listen, I'm sorry. I was just trying to be funny. I just broke up with a dark-haired guy. It's been a rough time for me, and I didn't really mean it."

He gives me a variation of the previous smile. But this time, it says "Sure. I understand. But there is not one chance in the world that I'll ever talk to you again."

Single again, just for a few days, and I'm already being hit on by cute men. Nice, friendly, cute men.

And I blew it.

I'm still reeling from the breakup, I'm pissed with myself for being an asshole, and I've had a whole bunch of drinks by now. Kind of a lethal combination. The bar closes. We move on to someone's house. When the blow comes out, I do a line, even though I had sworn, months ago, never to do it again.

Just one line.

Weight: 170.5

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"Sure. I understand. But there is not one chance in the world that I'll ever talk to you again."

And why, pray tell, would you want to be around someone with such a horrible sense of humor and a complete inability to understand and forgive? Our Markie is worth far more than that.

1:51 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Well it's clear this is going to definitely be a more interesting blog!

4:42 PM  
Blogger Jef said...

I agree with Jeff, but who knows? If he's the one, your paths will cross again, and maybe there will be a second chance.

Trust me, I'm a strawberry blonde.

10:54 AM  

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