Ok, this is weird, but I need to know if this has ever happened to you.
Did you ever think someone was really cute and then you see them up close and after staring at them for some length of time, you totally realize that they are not cute but you're already on a date with them, so you have to figure out what the symptoms of mad cow disease are so you can fake sick and get them out of your apartment?
Wait… I'm not finished yet.
And then you see them again years later and you think, "Wow, I was mistaken. They are way cute" and you try to act like you don't know them because you look awful and you don't want them to think they look all good and you look like you've been awake all night vomiting and they are so lucky you dumped them because it would be awful to wake up next to you every single morning of their lives?
The whole Garth Brooks Unanswered Prayers relationship theory.
So then you go home and you think, "Why was I so mean to that person that I faked mad cow disease and stopped taking their phone calls? Why didn't I see how good looking they were?" You're happy you're married to the person you're married to, but you'd like not to feel like a total evil monkey every time you see them because of the whole faking the cow thing, so you keep your fingers crossed you don't ever see them ever, ever again.
And then you do. A bunch of times. I mean, every freaking time you go to Wal-Mart, there they are, lurking right around the coffee aisle, which is bad because you drink a lot of coffee.
They are always dressed very well, no matter what time they are shopping for coffee, and you ask yourself why they insisted upon dressing like a member of a boy band when you dated them all those years ago when clearly they have an incredible sense of style now.
"I saw him again and he looked really good," you tell your husband, who is way too understanding which makes you think maybe he's doing something he shouldn't be doing because what husband would be so totally cool about his wife drooling over some other man unless his own hand was in somebody else's cookie jar, so you make a mental note to take the money you have hidden in the ashtray in your car because you don't smoke and it's the perfect place to hide money and hire a private investigator to follow him around.
Then you see the person again, only this time, you don't so much look like you've been blowing chunks all night so you decide to walk right past him and act like you don't know him in an effort to seem better than him just in case he has developed some sort of smug attitude about you after years of seeing you hiding behind the non-dairy creamer in sweats and your husband's t-shirts. You stroll on by, making sure to suck in your tummy and act aloof and all, "I so don't even see you there", but you see out of the corner of your eye that he sees you and he totally knows you.
So he conveniently winds up on your aisle every few minutes, even when you're in the feminine hygiene aisle, which you realize all too late and get crazy embarrassed over because the last thing you need is for this guy to think Aunt Flo is visiting, which she is, because you're working so hard on the whole aloof thing.
You decide you've wandered around Wal-Mart long enough and you've got to leave and the person starts to get in line behind you and some woman who you presume is his wife pulls his arm and he's gone and you're thinking, "Crap. Almost had him. Almost forced him to see I'm still too good for him by letting him talk to me and then acting like I can't remember his name". What a fabulous plan you had and now it's blown completely.
But on your way out, you bump right into this person and the woman you think is his wife and you get a good look at him while he's trying to figure out whether she would lop off his manliness if he spoke to you and you think to yourself, "Wow. He's really not that cute. I was right the first time".
Has that ever happened to you?
Copyright © 2004-2005, Sherri Bailey
This blog may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the author.
Tell me you love me at: HumorWriter@gmail.com
Tell me you hate me at: Yeah. I'm so sure I'm going to make that easy for you.
Visit Ms. Crazy On Her Face Online