Rejection… Good For a Laugh?

A couple months back I mentioned the guy I met who has a wife in a coma. (Yes, seriously. Only me…) Well, the coffee meeting went okay, so we parted on that ever vague let’s-get-together-again-sometime note. At the time, I honestly meant it. Sure, he was married to a woman in a coma, but he was an awesome dad to his two girls, decent looking, stable, seemed like genuinely a nice guy. But, between him being a single dad to two and me being… well, me… our schedules were both crazy. And then along came Mr. Big, and, well, it just never quite happened between Coma Dad and I.

So, Coma Dad emails me this week. He asks if I still want to try to get together sometime or if I wasn’t really all that interested to begin with. I felt bad. But, the truth is, if either of us had really been feeling it, we would have made the time to see each other. You do if you’re really into someone. So, I write a nice note back, telling him that I really did enjoy meeting him, but that it’s obvious neither of us was gaga over the other or we would have made it happen. I end by saying he’s an awesome guy, we have a lot in common, please keep in touch.

His response?

It pops into my inbox five minutes later. “No, I don’t think I will keep in touch. But send me one of your books.”

Seriously?

My response…(putting on my best Soup Nazi voice)… “No books for you!”

Oh, but my day got better.

Before I go any further, I must admit something to all the dog lover among us. I am allergic to your darlings. Highly. As in throat closing up territory here. Not that I don’t love dogs – I do. I just love breathing more.

So, this fellow writes to me a few weeks ago from an online service. Ironically he’s also a firefighter. He seems like a nice guy, former military (gotta love a man in uniform), cute smile. I write back. We exchange a few pleasant emails, but nothing really develops.

Fast forward to present. I’m out with Suze, having a few drinks, and my phone rings. Not a number I know, but what they heck, I’m in a good mood. I pick it up.

“Hi, this is Charlie. How are you?”

Charlie… Charlie… do I know a Charlie? But, he obviously knows me, so I play along. He keeps talking and I keep wracking my brain (granted, it was a little martini soaked at that point…) trying to pick up a clue who this guy is. He’s so sorry it’s taken him a while to call me, he’s at work, but has a few minutes to chat, how’s my hamster doing, he’s been called to those wildfires… ah ha. Fires. It clicks. Though, I totally didn’t remember giving this Charlie guy my number, apparently I did. So, ten minutes into the conversation, I finally remember who he is. (Hey, I had more than one martini!) So, I pick up the slack on my end of the conversation now that I know who I’m talking to. And, since he asked about Rosie the Wonder Hamster, I ask if he has any pets. Yep. One. His baby. The love of his life. His dog.

Uh oh. So, I confess that, while I may love his baby, too, I probably won’t be cuddling up to her anytime soon if I want to keep breathing.

And he says, “Then I won’t waste anymore of your time.” Click. That’s right, he just hung up on me. No, “We can work that out.” No, “Are there medications you can take?” Just a dial tone.

I stare at the phone in my hand for a beat. Then bust up laughing. Suze and I raised a toast that night, hoping Must Love Dogs and his St. Bernard are very happy together.

You would think my day ended there. But no. It gets better.

After I get home, I check my email. There’s a message there from a Mr. Hot Stuff. (No joke, that’s his online handle.) I read it. And realize why. He’s a firefighter. (K, I’m starting to think my phone number is written on a bathroom wall in a firehouse somewhere.) As I’m reading the email, I remember that this guy has written to me before. Apparently he didn’t remember because he’s introducing himself anew. So, never one to pass up an opportunity to mess with the boys a little, I send him a note telling him, “Hey, you’re sending me reruns.” He write back right away. Now he remembers, so sorry, how come we never got together?

Honestly, his pictures weren’t that attractive. Not bad, not hideous… but didn’t make my heart go pitter patter either. And lately, well, I’ve been kind of digging Mr. Big. So, yeah, not that into Firefighter #3.

But, he writes again and asks if I’ve met anyone interesting from online. Hmm… you could say that. He goes on to say he’s just had the worst date in history. I can’t help it. I write back and tell him there is no way any dating story he has can outdo mine.

So, we start spitting bad date stories back and forth. Of course, I kick his butt. (Though, he had some pretty nasty ones, I’ll give him that.) Finally, it comes down to the sudden death round. His deal – loser buys the other coffee. Okay, so he’s not that attractive, but he’s been fun and who can’t use more friends for coffee, right? So, I agree. And I hit him with the Fighter and the Body in the Closet story. No contest, I win hands down. I’m doing a little victory dance in my chair… when he shoots me another email.

He’s just looked at my profile again and noticed that I want kids in the future. He already has three. Doesn’t want anymore. Sorry, he can’t meet me for coffee. And he logs off.

I’m left sitting there, yelling at the little “user has logged off” icon that there was no chance in Hades that we were going to be in position to make babies anyway – I was just in this for coffee! – when it hits me: I’ve been rejected three times in one day. By three guys I didn’t even want to go out with!

I was left with two choices – cry or laugh.

I opted for laughter. And another martini.


~Trigger Happy Halliday