At the end of my date with The Leading Man, he suggested we go out again, and I was totally willing. I liked his laid back vibe and I could definitely see myself hanging out with him again. I know my game theory calculations say I should reject the first 37 men outright, but Man #24 was a good one. Let’s face it; most dates are sort of a drag. So, when you have a good one you want to double down.
While I waited to see if Man #24 would ask me out again, I commenced email correspondence with Man #25. I found him on Chemistry.com. His online profile made him sound fun and musically inclined. In his profile he mentioned that he enjoyed going out to karaoke with his friends.
Well, what do you know? I also love karaoke. I’m a sucker for a man who knows how to sing or how to play an instrument. In fact, years ago, I used to say I would marry the man who could sing “Let’s Make Love” by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill with me. I can play it on the piano, and I need a partner.
Anyway, Man #25 was also tall, 6′-3″ and good-looking. I don’t usually email men first, but in this case, I did.
He got back to me right away, and after a couple of emails back and forth he sent me his phone number. I called him and the conversation flowed pretty easily. When he asked me what about him I was attracted to, I confessed it was the karaoke. Basically, he just sounded fun. We talked a little more about singing and before I knew it I was doing something on the phone I had never done before…
…I was singing the duet, “Just A Kiss” by Lady Antebellum, over the phone with Mr. Karaoke.
Now what’s not to like about a man you can make beautiful music with??? Let’s just say that sealed the deal. We had to meet in person. It went something like this:
Mr. K: “I think I’d definitely like to meet you.”
Me: “I think so too.”
Mr. K: “Where should we go?”
Me: “Well, maybe we should go do more karaoke if you’re up for it.”
Mr. K: “Absolutely. That’s sounds fun.”
That’s it in a nutshell. We met at Rock Box and spent a couple of hours singing as many songs as we possibly could. He had a nice voice, and could hold his own with a mic. While there, we also had a drink and had a nice conversation. After the date, he walked me to my car, gave me a hug, and said we should go out again soon.
I agreed. It had been easy-going and fun.
Unfortunately, the real Mr. Karaoke did not appear until after the date. The next thing I knew Man #25 was calling me in the morning when he woke up, texting me throughout the day, calling when he got off work, and again in the evening before he went to bed. I started to wonder if he really had a job. I know some women find a lot of phone calls flattering, but anyone who has been reading this blog for a while knows I don’t. To me, it felt like a red flag.
I would just like to find a happy medium, someone who would call every couple of days or so. Instead, I either get the guy who never calls or the one who calls and texts several times a day. For crying out loud. Isn’t there a middle ground?
I played along for a while, but his calling and texting started to feel controlling. He didn’t seem needy in a pathetic sort of way, but, instead, it seemed like he was trying to keep track of where I was, what I was doing, and who I might be with even though he had no rights to this information. It started to annoy me to say the least.
Then during one of our phone conversations, Mr. Karaoke started talking about how he hadn’t been able to work because of he had injured his knee. Add to this the fact that in a previous conversation he announced that he didn’t think he would ever be able to retire, and I deflected the subject and asked him a related question about his work instead of asking him about his knee.
I’m not good at dealing with other people’s maladies. After too many experiences in my life where I have had to be the responsible one, I’m leary anytime something starts to feel like someone might NEED me for something they should be able to do for themself.
Even my sons know that my answer to an injury is usually, “put some ice on it.” Don’t get me wrong, if there’s blood, I’ll jump into action, but, with my boys, I always found that if they put ice on an injury, it would either keep the swelling down while we got to the hospital, or they would magically be all better and ready to play again within minutes. One result I didn’t get was children who cried MORE as soon as they got my attention.
If The Karaoke Kripple was trying to get me to take care of him and his knee, again, it felt like a red flag, and I wasn’t biting.
The next night, he called me again, and again mentioned his knee and the fact that he had not been able to work. Since it seemed like the subject of this knee was not going to go away, I asked him, “Well, do you have disability insurance?”
“I have an L & I claim,” he said.
“Well, I guess I can understand why you feel you’ll never be able to retire then.”
I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but it involved a grown man acting helpless, and a smart ass remark on my part, followed by The Karaoke Kripple exclaiming, “that wasn’t very nice.”
Whaa fucking whaa.
This is where I decided there was no sense in beating around the bush with The Karaoke Kripple. I said, “Look. In the past, I’ve made the mistake of taking in men who arrived with only a bag of clothes and a pickup truck, and I’m done with that. I need to watch out for myself. I WOULD like to retire someday, and I’m not about to take care of another grown ass man who can’t take care of himself.”
As you can imagine that was the end of that.
Finally, before you start thinking that all I listen to is country music, I’ve been working on singing “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga. Seems fitting, doesn’t it?