Well I promised you a story
about firefighters that stalk, so here it goes. That same day that I fell with
the full beer (St. Patrick’s Day of 2007) and didn’t spill a drop, as I
mentioned, I attracted the attention of anyone in the newly expanded bar due to
all of the clapping. I apparently drew
the attention of a fire fighter along with the rest of them.
I had just broken up with
my boyfriend of eight years the previous November. I was kind of a mess, or at least I was in
the beginning of becoming a mess. However, there are lines that even I won’t
cross, no matter how desperate I might become.
Anyway, I spilled the beer,
received a standing ovation, (even though I was seated), and then shortly
thereafter, we went outside to celebrate by tempting the fate of cancer with
our cigarettes. (It makes as much sense as it sounds like, but there it is at
the age twenty-eight).
As we stood there, smoking,
an older looking man approached us and began talking to us. I wish I could
remember exactly what I was thinking. I
had a few cocktails in me but I think I hovered between creeped out and
interested. Interested because he was so interested in me; and creeped out
because the feeling wasn’t mutual. That’s a broad spectrum, I realize. It had
either begun to rain or it had become increasingly more windy, but we decided
to leave.
However, not before I had given him my phone number and he had shared
his age of 39 with me. He left to get a drink or use the bathroom and we left.
I thought he was a little old for me, eleven years difference and all, but I
also didn’t plan on seeing him again.
We ran off to the next bar and
I put my hoodie up (as if I could hide in that bright blue number). My phone
began to ring like crazy and I ignored it, knowing it had to be the fire
fighter. I became paranoid that he was following us. I also couldn’t be sure if
that fear was from too many drinks or a real fear of someone that scared me for
one reason or another. I can be melodramatic from time to time, after all.
We went into another bar,
and quite honestly, the events of the rest of the day are a blur. I believe it
went on all night, and my bestie and I might have even gotten into a fight, later
in the evening, right before ending up at a diner for food. But man, eleven years
ago is a very long time.
So, after that night, I
completely forgot about the fire fighter, I can’t believe I even remember his
name, which I will keep to myself. I
think I remember his name. Anyhoo, he began to blow up my phone immediately the
next day or the day after. He claimed he was worried about whether I got home
safely. (His excuse for calling me three million times) He clearly did not
forget about me. I thought, okay, I’m
sober, I can give this person a chance. I don’t need to run away because I miss
my ex or whatever preconceived notions I had of dating someone who is older.
Dating someone who is older
always creeps me out like I’m dating an older relative, even if it’s only ten years,
it feels weird to me. Apparently, dating
someone who is younger (9 years to be exact and the father of my child) that’s
just fine. Well, we aren’t together anymore, so I guess it’s not just fine. Anyway, I’m getting off topic…
I decide to accept his
offer for a date. I don’t even really remember the details of how he asked or
where we went, though I’m thinking it was Applebees. Anyway, on our date, (our first date) I find
out that he was not thirty-nine, after he kept changing his age, we settled on
forty-three, I think. Liar Liar pants on fire…thank God he worked for the fire
department.
I let it go, once again. Someday
I’ll share a story of when I was nineteen and you’ll see I have a pattern of
ignoring red flags…ugh!
Anyway, I let it go and as
I think back, we may have only had one or two dates. I know I was bothered
because he moved from the east coast to Minnesota, leaving his child behind to
be a fire fighter here. It didn’t make a
whole lot of sense to me and I felt it said a lot about who he was. Then there
were these goofy creepy faces he would make, that nauseated me. And also,
because he was a fire fighter I think he believed he could do or act however,
and he would still be considered sexy because of his job. I’m thinking, are you wearing the uniform
now? No? Okay, not sexy right at this
moment. Kind of harsh, I realize that,
but I was twenty – eight. Another
pattern you will come to see, I tended to be fairly harsh back in my heyday or
is it “hay” day…I make myself giggle.
The straw (speaking of hay)
that broke the camel’s back in this situation, was when he wanted me to meet
his entire family on the second or third date.
I was about to leave for Vegas and that felt a tad serious for me, at
that point.
I told him that I didn’t
know if I was ready for that level of commitment, I believed I was saying it in
a way that meant we could continue to see each other and see how it goes, but
immediately he was angry and hung up.
During my formative years,
I learned pretty quick who the low self-esteem guys were when that was the
reaction I would get. Not getting their
way, equating to hating you forever and hanging up on you.
A few weeks later, I was
reconsidering my decision and I sent him a text to test out the waters. I got
back a hateful, angry text that made no sense to me. So I replied with, “Wow! I
was gonna see if maybe I reacted to harshly or didn’t give this a chance, but I
can see I made the right choice.” I got back some weak excuse of him believing
I was someone else…I wasn’t buying it.
But that reaction was all I really needed to know. It would have been
foolish of me to get involved with someone that angry and childish.
In retelling this story,
stalker may be harsh (shocking, I know), hence the title.
No comments:
Post a Comment