So far, dating post divorce has been less than ideal. Of course, I don’t really know what an “ideal” dating scenario is, but here is the rundown so far:
- Bachelor #1 (see post): Fresh out of rehab, this Dockers wearing dentist was a good online chat but in person, lacked the chops to back it up. Never mind that fact that he told me about his stint in rehab 30 seconds before I ordered a glass of wine. Result: date ended early.
- Bachelor #2: This 51 one year old balding engineer lied about his age online, then admitted he’d stretched the truth… just a tad. I learned a great deal about the Occupational Safety and Health Association (OSHA) during our date. Did you know that throwing 1 cup of flour or sugar on a grease fire could result in a kitchen explosion in excess of two dynamite sticks? Result: date ended early.
- Bachelor #3: The Murse – a professional male nurse. He touted himself as “the cop from the movie Bridesmaids” and that he was bi-lingual –he could speak both Oprah and NFL. I discovered the only comparison to the Bridesmaids actor were his slightly crossed eyes. We had zero connection. Result: no further contact
- Bachelor #4 (see post): Kid Rock, AKA Stone. This one has me perplexed…
First off, Stone is an artist which means he can do ah-mazing things with his hands – ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! He sings in a heavy metal band and designs computer video games for a living. He is unlike anything I’ve dated in the past. He is fun, into his rocker image and dedicated to his work, the band, his work, the band – you get where I’m going with this. Conversations are rare, and mostly one-sided. We are exactly one week into our little tryst – and it’s going splendidly. Who needs dialogue when there’s passion? After 10 years of being married to a guy that didn’t exactly see me as Brigitte Bardot, getting “sext-ed” by the Rock has benefited my lagging self-esteem.
A couple of nights ago, Kid Rock stopped by after band practice. As with each interaction, there were two choices: either tear each other’s clothes off or attempt a conversation. Well, there needs to be some decorum, so we sat awkwardly on the couch… both looking at our phones.
“Ha,” I said, “one week into our relationship and here we sit, not talking, checking our phones.”
Stone threw his phone on the coffee table, faced me and said, “Did you just say relationship?”
“No! No, I didn’t say relationship… I just meant to be funny. No ‘R’ word at all…” Stammering, my face is bright red. I really hadn’t meant it that way… really, folks, I didn’t.
He had that sexy smile, “Well, we are having relations.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Let’s keep it at that.” And then, Kid Rock went in for the kill.
So here is the tough part. I’m perfectly happy being home alone or hanging out with my girlfriends. I don’t want to care about another guy – or wonder what he’s up to. Is he thinking of me? Will we see each other again? Stone is the perfect little liaison I needed to get over my troubled past – but not exactly a relationship I plan on pursuing. Does this make me a bad person? Is it ok to be self-serving after the devastation of a failed marriage?
Just keepin’ it real,
The Dishy Divorcee