A recent post reminded me of an especially good date that turned very, very bad.
He was such a gentleman. Kind of shy, but very accommodating, holding doors, talking about me and my life rather than him and his, that kind of stuff. He was so, well, I guess the word is "domesticated," and that should have tipped me off.
I met Jared when I was working for a decorator in Atlanta. He was a client's representative, and at first I mistook him for being gay. I don't know what really drove me to that conclusion, but after working in and around the office with us for a couple of weeks, it was apparent that there was a real interest there. I was sort of flattered and shocked when he asked me out. Normally, I would not mix business and pleasure, but technically he wasn't my account. I was just lending a hand.
Jared was really the perfect date. He would ask what I wanted to do then he would make all of the arrangements. Again, I thought he might be gay and just out for a night of fun. But he was very affectionate. And no, my bad track record meant that there would be no home run on the first, second and sometimes third date.
Our second date was, in a word, romantic. I could tell he wanted to move things along, but was very patient and conscious of my comfort level. I loved that he was comfortable holding my hand when we walked. He was a great kisser, too! I know I was floating a couple of inches off the ground. Oh, did I mentioned that he was quite handsome?
Our third date was coming up the next Thursday, and I was looking forward to it. I was even contemplating breaking my three date rule because he might just be the one!
Sheri, my boss, asked me to drive with her to meet Jared and his client. Well, of course I jumped at the chance, but then had second thoughts about it. I sure didn't want to be acting like a school girl with Jared, because there was no question I was giddy about him. I had not been seeing him too much during the day since our first date.
He was so surprised to see me and did everything he could to keep from hugging me! I had to laugh to see him contain himself in front of Sheri and the client. He looked uncomfortable, though, and I felt sorry for him. To tell the truth I was kind of uncomfortable too, but I managed to keep myself in check and pay attention to business.
When Sheri unrolled the plans on the table and the client and Jared were looking them over I almost threw up! My stomach turned horribly and I don't know if I made a sound or it just sounded that way in my head, but looking at Jared's left hand there was a wedding band. I even counted the fingers to make sure I was looking at the right one. Big, wide and gold. Yep, that was a wedding band.
I couldn't speak. I wanted to cry. I knew if I said anything my voice would break. I wiped a tear from my eye and pretended to be looking for something in the case. I was thankful that my input was not needed there because I don't think I could have contributed a thing - my head certainly wasn't in the same game as theirs.
As we were packing up to go I had an armful as I headed to the car. He came up to me to see if I needed help, and I finally mustered up enough voice to ask "are you married?"
The look and the silence was all the answer I needed. He tried to croak an apology, but it was wasted on me. I didn't want to know anything more. So I just continued to the car. Thankfully, he didn't follow. I guess he knew it was useless.
I have played this whole story in my head so many times that the details are still vivid. I kept asking myself over and over why I missed any signs and if any signs were there.
Although she knew we were seeing each other Sheri never mentioned him again. And she never said how the client's build went, or anything. As much as I wanted to know more, I decided it would not be healthy. So I never knew what happened.
"My wife doesn't understand me," "yeah, we're not really together anymore,""we're talking about a divorce now." Heard them all. What in the world drives a man to do that, I'll never know.
He was such a gentleman. Kind of shy, but very accommodating, holding doors, talking about me and my life rather than him and his, that kind of stuff. He was so, well, I guess the word is "domesticated," and that should have tipped me off.
I met Jared when I was working for a decorator in Atlanta. He was a client's representative, and at first I mistook him for being gay. I don't know what really drove me to that conclusion, but after working in and around the office with us for a couple of weeks, it was apparent that there was a real interest there. I was sort of flattered and shocked when he asked me out. Normally, I would not mix business and pleasure, but technically he wasn't my account. I was just lending a hand.
Jared was really the perfect date. He would ask what I wanted to do then he would make all of the arrangements. Again, I thought he might be gay and just out for a night of fun. But he was very affectionate. And no, my bad track record meant that there would be no home run on the first, second and sometimes third date.
Our second date was, in a word, romantic. I could tell he wanted to move things along, but was very patient and conscious of my comfort level. I loved that he was comfortable holding my hand when we walked. He was a great kisser, too! I know I was floating a couple of inches off the ground. Oh, did I mentioned that he was quite handsome?
Our third date was coming up the next Thursday, and I was looking forward to it. I was even contemplating breaking my three date rule because he might just be the one!
Sheri, my boss, asked me to drive with her to meet Jared and his client. Well, of course I jumped at the chance, but then had second thoughts about it. I sure didn't want to be acting like a school girl with Jared, because there was no question I was giddy about him. I had not been seeing him too much during the day since our first date.
He was so surprised to see me and did everything he could to keep from hugging me! I had to laugh to see him contain himself in front of Sheri and the client. He looked uncomfortable, though, and I felt sorry for him. To tell the truth I was kind of uncomfortable too, but I managed to keep myself in check and pay attention to business.
When Sheri unrolled the plans on the table and the client and Jared were looking them over I almost threw up! My stomach turned horribly and I don't know if I made a sound or it just sounded that way in my head, but looking at Jared's left hand there was a wedding band. I even counted the fingers to make sure I was looking at the right one. Big, wide and gold. Yep, that was a wedding band.
I couldn't speak. I wanted to cry. I knew if I said anything my voice would break. I wiped a tear from my eye and pretended to be looking for something in the case. I was thankful that my input was not needed there because I don't think I could have contributed a thing - my head certainly wasn't in the same game as theirs.
As we were packing up to go I had an armful as I headed to the car. He came up to me to see if I needed help, and I finally mustered up enough voice to ask "are you married?"
The look and the silence was all the answer I needed. He tried to croak an apology, but it was wasted on me. I didn't want to know anything more. So I just continued to the car. Thankfully, he didn't follow. I guess he knew it was useless.
I have played this whole story in my head so many times that the details are still vivid. I kept asking myself over and over why I missed any signs and if any signs were there.
Although she knew we were seeing each other Sheri never mentioned him again. And she never said how the client's build went, or anything. As much as I wanted to know more, I decided it would not be healthy. So I never knew what happened.
"My wife doesn't understand me," "yeah, we're not really together anymore,""we're talking about a divorce now." Heard them all. What in the world drives a man to do that, I'll never know.
