Ha! Get it? Snow globe? Cuz…snow? Is this thing on?
I've been quiet for the past few weeks or so and I sometimes think, "I have nothing to say." It's sort of like when I start thinking I don't have A Story at all really or when I feel as if my life and how I live it isn't really noteworthy or remarkable. When people finally engage me enough to speak of it and I see their eyes start to widen, and then widen further…when they interrupt me to check if I have wings (or horns) or a pulse because they cannot grasp how I could have - and still do - manage on a daily basis, when they learn of how I survived what I call "my speed bumps" and they call "damn near insurmountable brick mountains," when it dawns on them for the most part I've been alone for my journey…or traveling with exclusive my children as companions, it's almost as if I should reign my own pantheon. Although, can you call it a pantheon if it contains only a single entity…me?
Ugh…where do I begin with a hokey love story? I really can't say, "well, last Tuesday, blah, blah…" for your comprehension, I need to start …well, no. Not at the beginning. Genuinely, that would be kindergarten - no joke. He and I met in elementary school. As my dyke sister would say, "GHEEEEEEI! So ghei. Quit. You guys are ultra-ghei. Barf."
I guess just some bullet points. When I first moved back to my home town, my daughters Kainat* and Amaya* were just 7 years and 4 months old, respectively. Shortly after Amaya had her first birthday, she fell into a coma. It is my belief this was as a result of adverse reactions to her one year vaccinations, the massive incompetence of her pediatrician, Dr. Dimwit* and an at-the-time undiscovered set of intense seasonal allergies.
She recovered amazingly (this whole episode is a series of stories on its own), we chose a new doctor and life went on.
There were several maintenance guys in my complex…one guy, Halsten,* was pretty cute. There was some very mild flirting, a striking refrigerator repair mishap and a party where I invited him but nothing really came of it. I started seeing a guy I'd known from out of state. I left the complex when I became pregnant with my boy Lucian* and life went on.
I thought nothing of it Halsten and my path kept crossing in odd ways: we bumped into each other at the grocery store and were happier to see one another than be with our partners…I'd planned to move back out of state and was having a going away party in a park. Halsten was there for no good reason - no kid with him, no dog, didn't live near there…one day, years later, after Halsten and I were a couple, we drove past a house. I pointed and said, "I had a strange date there once…a guy made dinner for me but I just don't remember much else…" He almost drove off the road.
It was Halsten, of course, his house, he'd made dinner that night and he couldn't remember much either…Even now, I can't unravel that one. I was with my ex at the time and I'm not one to behave in any shady manner, nor do I feel anything shady occurred nor was intended…but, why was I there?
So, we bumped into each other at a laundry mat. Why was I at the laundry mat (beside the obvious)? My washer had broken. Even though I had another and could have set that one up…even though there was a laundry mat a mile from my house…I went to the one way across town…and was using the dryer he always used so he was waiting for whoever to get the clothes out of his dryer and he recognized me from behind…and called my name.
My bioname is…unusual. Whenever anyone says it correctly, two things happen: I freak out with paranoia and I KNOW the speaker knows me. I turned around slowly; having just ended a seriously shitty relationship, I'd made the vow to stay single until Lucian graduated high school and I did NOT need a man knowing me and saying my name all correct n shit.
It was Halsten and I had no idea who the hell he was; all I knew was that he was damn good looking and I was going to break that damn vow. Shit. I raised an eyebrow. He told me his name and reminded me of the complex.
"Ooooooh!" I said, knowingly, not knowing a damn thing. We ended up talking for about a half hour before I remembered I sort of had a sort of date thingie with my sort of married boss. I know I just said I'm not one to behave in a shady manner but let me clarify: I don't do shady shit if I'M in a relationship. It's not my job to preserve the integrity of yours. Having said that, my boss and I just flirted because his wife was a mean imported Russian lady. He called it "job training." I just read the work manual and got free dinners and drinks while he bitched and I gassed up his ego. It was mutually beneficial. I cut it short that day "because I had a lot of laundry to do."
Halsten asked me if I was single and I nearly peed myself. "NO. I mean, yes, I am, but, no, I'm…not…I don't date. I'm not dating. I'm not dating currently. Again. Now. Ever." I stuttered. He didn't even look up from his folding.
"Yeah, me neither."
We kept chatting…and then he found my weakness. Well, weaknesses. From behind his knee appeared two gigantic eyeballs that made Bambi look like he was squinting. "This…is Howell*. Howie, say hi." Apparently, Howie's way of greeting was to hide those peepers and then flash them again, coupled with a trillion dollar smile. My heart burst into glitter.
Halsten continued, "Don't you have a son around his age? Why don't you come over and play games? The boys can hang out and entertain each other while we play. I have some friends who have lots of games and we can all get together."
Games? Table games? Like…Monopoly? CLUE!?!?! GAMES?!?! OMFGILOVEGAMESSOHARDNOONEPLAYSGAMESYESIWANTTOPLAYGAMES! I had also never dated a parent before…(well, there was this one jackass but I can't call what we did dating). I cleared my throat. "uh…yeah. Lucky's…" I paused, "…how old are you, Peepers?" I hunkered down and Eyebawls hid behind his dad's crotch, forcing me to think of his dad's crotch. Halsten's crotch offered up a muffled grunt. The back of my mind smirked while telling me if Halsten's crotch could grunt…
I stood up abruptly. "Lucian's seven. How old is Peep…uhm…Howell, did you say?" Halsten stated Howie's age at six and I could hear an obnoxious rushing sound in my ears. It felt…like falling, dammit. DAMMIT. I did not have energy for falling. I made a mental note to pay double on my gravity bill. "Sounds great," I said, wrapping up my wash. "Stay in touch."
"Uh uh, no." He stepped in front of me as I scuttled toward the door. "I've tried looking you up before, but I guess I can't spell your name or something." (As a side note, I give my cell to damn near everyone. Who cares? I can always ignore or block you. Plus, I have a cool service on top to filter calls. I don't give out my landline [yes, I'm a dinosaur with a landline] but everyone has my cell anyway; hasn't changed in 16 years. Yeah, weird, whatever.) "How do I get you?"
I panicked. This was The Line. If I gave him my info, he was going to use it. If I gave him fake info, a) I was an ass and 2) I'd bump into him again, SOON, and he would totally call me out on that shit and iii) I…kinda…sorta maybe, perhaps wanted…I like games. I gave him my Facebook info.
And bolted.
And didn't hear from him again until JULY.
...To be continued....
*All names have been changed to protect the innocent. And the wicked fuckin' guilty.
