Running into the ex...
I was, believe it or not, engaged at one time in my life. Actually, 10 years ago...Dang I am getting old.
Anyway, we will call the ex "Sven" because I was often asked if I was dating an albino, and he was big and of Germanic and Scandinavian descent,so Sven seems fitting.
Sven was a great guy. Perfect, really...Even though he was 6'4" and I am 4'11" and we looked like circus freaks standing next to one another.
But, Sven was sweet, and patient and thoughtful. Unfortunately, I wasn't in love with Sven, romantically. Loved him as a friend, but since that didn't change after 4 and a half years together, I gave up thinking it would happen.
Ultimately, Sven's parents hated me--Dad was a pastor and since I am of a different ideology, I should probably burn in hell. Well, I probably will, to hear him preach it on Thanksgiving while I am sitting in the pews--another story, and I obviously still have issues.
Anyway, I always wanted Sven to be happy, because he deserved it. Truly. He couldn't help having idiots for parents.
Last summer, I was feeling sassy, looking cute, meeting an online suitor for lunch. We had sent a ton of e-mails back and forth, and seemed to have some sort of chemistry. We talked a few times briefly, and I was confident we were going to get along just dandy. I get a phone call while waiting to meet him--one of his kids fell and cut his lip, he is running a little late, but is on his way. No problem. In fact, his being such a doting father is really attractive to me!
So, I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting (he lives across the river in Illinois) and all of a sudden I hear, "Bethie? Miss Bethie? Is that you?" I look up and see Sven and a group of co-workers. We chat and catch up. He is married and has a daughter (married to a girl his father was trying to match him up with while we were still engaged, by the way), and is doing great. Except for his goofy chin hair, he looks great. He tells me I look great. We give each other a big hug, and I feel a sense of euphoria and like there is some closure here. Good old Sven--yes, we weren't compatible, I now know for certain--I had wondered before--but dang, I am happy he is happy. Really.
My date shows up, and, well, he isn't what I had pictured, and I am wondering how I never picked up on the fact that he sounds like a hybrid of H. Ross Perot and someone from Hee Haw. Interesting. I can deal with sounding like a bumpkin, but not a LOUD bumpkin.
I don't even need to tell you. You know exactly where the waitress sat us. Oh yeah. Which was fine...Until bumpkin says loudly, "So, how long yoo bin doin' this innernet thang?" I wanted my less-than-five-feet of me to become less-than-two-feet-of-me right then and there.
I am not sure why it disturbed to have Sven hear I date online, but it did. I don't want him to pity me, or laugh at me, although I pity me and laugh at me all the time. I was such a cool hip chick when we were together, and now I am a chilled, large-hipped chick. Anyway...
Sven is a good guy, and Bumpkin, I am sure is, too, but that was our one and only date. Not because he sounded like a bumpkin. I'm not that shallow.
I couldn't stand the way he ate and his teeth looked like they were stained from chewing tobacco. (If you don't know me outside of the blog, you don't understand just how important dental hygiene is to me. It is a MUST!)
Anyway, we will call the ex "Sven" because I was often asked if I was dating an albino, and he was big and of Germanic and Scandinavian descent,so Sven seems fitting.
Sven was a great guy. Perfect, really...Even though he was 6'4" and I am 4'11" and we looked like circus freaks standing next to one another.
But, Sven was sweet, and patient and thoughtful. Unfortunately, I wasn't in love with Sven, romantically. Loved him as a friend, but since that didn't change after 4 and a half years together, I gave up thinking it would happen.
Ultimately, Sven's parents hated me--Dad was a pastor and since I am of a different ideology, I should probably burn in hell. Well, I probably will, to hear him preach it on Thanksgiving while I am sitting in the pews--another story, and I obviously still have issues.
Anyway, I always wanted Sven to be happy, because he deserved it. Truly. He couldn't help having idiots for parents.
Last summer, I was feeling sassy, looking cute, meeting an online suitor for lunch. We had sent a ton of e-mails back and forth, and seemed to have some sort of chemistry. We talked a few times briefly, and I was confident we were going to get along just dandy. I get a phone call while waiting to meet him--one of his kids fell and cut his lip, he is running a little late, but is on his way. No problem. In fact, his being such a doting father is really attractive to me!
So, I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting (he lives across the river in Illinois) and all of a sudden I hear, "Bethie? Miss Bethie? Is that you?" I look up and see Sven and a group of co-workers. We chat and catch up. He is married and has a daughter (married to a girl his father was trying to match him up with while we were still engaged, by the way), and is doing great. Except for his goofy chin hair, he looks great. He tells me I look great. We give each other a big hug, and I feel a sense of euphoria and like there is some closure here. Good old Sven--yes, we weren't compatible, I now know for certain--I had wondered before--but dang, I am happy he is happy. Really.
My date shows up, and, well, he isn't what I had pictured, and I am wondering how I never picked up on the fact that he sounds like a hybrid of H. Ross Perot and someone from Hee Haw. Interesting. I can deal with sounding like a bumpkin, but not a LOUD bumpkin.
I don't even need to tell you. You know exactly where the waitress sat us. Oh yeah. Which was fine...Until bumpkin says loudly, "So, how long yoo bin doin' this innernet thang?" I wanted my less-than-five-feet of me to become less-than-two-feet-of-me right then and there.
I am not sure why it disturbed to have Sven hear I date online, but it did. I don't want him to pity me, or laugh at me, although I pity me and laugh at me all the time. I was such a cool hip chick when we were together, and now I am a chilled, large-hipped chick. Anyway...
Sven is a good guy, and Bumpkin, I am sure is, too, but that was our one and only date. Not because he sounded like a bumpkin. I'm not that shallow.
I couldn't stand the way he ate and his teeth looked like they were stained from chewing tobacco. (If you don't know me outside of the blog, you don't understand just how important dental hygiene is to me. It is a MUST!)
posted by Beth at
11:16 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home