Sunday, June 05, 2005


What is it about learning a woman is separated, divorced, single, or whatever that makes single men think "desperate"? It's something I'm not sure I'll ever understand.

Yep, ok, so I'm a slow learner. I've been "one of the guys" so long that it's hard for me to accept the fact that I'm now a target for drunken asses who believe that because they're single and I'm single we should go back to their place. Or in last night's case - my place. Shorter stumbling distance for someone so drunk he probably couldn't have done anything more than pass out at that point.

Another lesson learned. The night was going well. I knew he was older than me, never suspected any kind of interest through the night. We learned that he spent two years working in my hometown after I moved to Calgary so we talked about the people we both knew. Even the town itself and the experience of living in a small town. We talked about the surrounding areas - Senlac, Cut Knife, Wilkie, Winter... covered them all. I stopped drinking, he didn't. He kinda kept finding reasons to get closer through the night. I should've walked away, but I was a dumbass. I wasn't drunk at that point. I was just enjoying the conversation. Until he switched to vodka.

LOL, he tried. I've got to give him credit for that. And somewhere in the past 7 months, I've become a little more blunt than I used to be. When he told me he'd quit smoking for me (yeah, right). I laughed and asked him if he'd say anything to get a woman into bed. Perhaps that was the wrong thing to do. Maybe I should've gone with a quiet retreat to my home. But, no. I figured I'd stick around to help him put out the fire and make sure he got home ok. At 3:30, I finally gave up. I'd been told to f-off more than once and even called the C word. He told me to suck him or leave him alone. WTF? Everything was going fine. Then he just flipped. So I went into the house. Guilt sent me back out to get him back to his place before he passed out and cracked his head on the concrete. No go. So I gave up again and went to bed. I know it was the liquor talking, because I certainly didn't deserve any of that.

Yes, I'm single. Yes, it's been awhile, but that doesn't mean I'm going to jump into bed with a guy because he's interested...and beyond very drunk. Being almost thirty and single in this freaking city doesn't mean that I want or need every other single - or married! - guy hitting on me. It doesn't mean I'm happy to just be used for sex and walked away from.

Maybe I'm nuts, and maybe I'll end up spending the rest of my life alone if I'm wrong. But right now alone seems like a far better option than taking whatever sad offer gets thrown at me. I guess I can take the insults, but just a note guys - those insults are less likely to make a woman go home with you. No matter how cute your freaking dog is.

I'm single. I'm not a moron. I'm not easy. I like to laugh, I like to have fun. I love to flirt. But I draw the line. I'm not a tease, don't treat me like one. I try not to play games, but sometimes I cross the line and realize it too late. When I hardly know you, I don't want to go to bed with you. It's not who I am, it's not what I do. If you push me, I'll call you on it.

And before my smart-assed BC friend makes a comment - yes, I've made mistakes when I'm drunk. It's why I try to avoid that stuff most of the time. It's why a 16 year old could drink me under the table without half trying. Some mistakes made won't be repeated.

Ok, I think I'm done ranting now. At least I feel better.


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