Thursday, April 18, 2013

Six Pack to go

So recently I had been seeing someone for a period of time, who I may or may not write about in the future. I am still debating. But that dalliance is over.  I am out in the dating world again.  As you know it is a very scary place.  It is full of damaged goods, serial daters and those who profess one thing but mean another.  But how will I find the man I am searching for if I don't put myself out there?  I won't.  So I accepted a date and set out into the dating world once again.

I have to say I was hesitant to go on this particular date.  Very hesitant.  I suspected this man, whom we will call Mr. Abs, and I had very little in common.  But he was very cute, seemed incredibly interested and professed to wanting to find a real relationship.  But red flags were raised when we exchanged some text messages during which several times he asked if he could send me a photo of his abs.  I said no, but clearly my 'no' meant nothing as the picture made its way on to my phone.  And yes those abs were very impressive but do abs make the man?  I was going to find out.

Mr. Abs suggested we meet at a bar that I was none to comfortable going to, but when I suggested other venues he said it was impossible.  Why?  He was far too popular.  Women from all over know him and he didn't want us to end up on FaceBook.  I tried to explain that really no one knows me but my protests fell on deaf ears.  Red flags.   So I agreed to meet him at the bar of his choice.  Upon arrival I noticed that he is good looking.  I'll give him that.  But I was right, we probably did not have a whole lot in common.  It was hard to know though, based on the conversation which revolved mostly around him.

He spent the majority of the conversation telling me how rich his family was, what kind of car he used to drive and what he drives now.  I even learned that he has two very expensive watches that probably individually cost more than my car.  His life is all very expensive and all very impressive if  only I was years younger and much more shallow.  He insisted on trying to show me his abs in person.  Three times I had to refuse to see those abs, in the bar, in front of other people.  Look, I like nice abs as much as the next woman, but if that is all you are selling, I need to move on.  And the sad part is this.  This man, Mr. Abs, is actually a nice guy.  He can be very charming and funny.  But his insecurity is killing him. And this date.

Post our first date, I received several text messages in which he practically begged me to tell him how wonderful he is, how good looking he is and how much better he is than other men I have dated.  It truly made me sad.  It made me want to wrap my arms around him and say, 'You are fantastic.  Just stop trying to get me to say you are fantastic.'  So when our second date approached, I almost cancelled.  This man is too high maintenance.  How can I possibly continually stroke his ego.  It would be exhausting.

But I went on the second date.  And again, he was charming and funny.  But he spent a lot of time talking about the multitude of divorced women who have called him up out of the blue to ask him if the rumors are true that he is single.  He told me stories of having to turn women away.  Look Mr. Abs, I get it.  You are attractive and you have money and there are many, many women out there who are drawn to that.  But you don't need to sell yourself to me.  It feels cheap and sort of pathetic.  If you just took a deep breath, stopped believing that you are only as good as the cash you can wave around and really trusted that you are a decent human being, this might all go differently.

Mr. Abs knows when to turn on the charm.  He tells me he is looking for a friend and lover (cue music now).  He tells me he is done dating the younger women.  He tells me he doesn't want me to date anyone else.  But I can see through Mr. Abs.  He doesn't want or need any of those things.  He needs someone to adore him.  He needs someone to think he is the best.  He needs someone to worship him.  But for all the wrong reasons.  Sadly Mr. Abs is selling himself short.  And you know, if you have read my blog, that I rarely say kind words about the men who end up on here.  Poor Mr. Abs will never find happiness until he starts to believe that he is a good person and doesn't need to 'buy' women.

So Mr. Abs, who is in his early 40's, has moved on to a 26 year old.  But we all know how this will end.  And Mr. Abs will be out again, trying to show off his abs at bars.  I may not be there to catch the show.  I will surely be on another date because after all I am divorced and single.

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