If I was Ever Going to Have A Mister

Remember that time yesterday when I said I had never met anyone from a craigslist ad? Well, I take it all back. Not that I lied. It was the truth when I wrote it, but then the universe turned a little upside down. There I was, looking at the casual encounters ads and I click on one for the title alone. “Frustrated or Lonely?” I’m not really frustrated. I mean, maybe a little, but mostly with myself for being so jacked up in the head, and I’m not really lonely, but I do have my moments. I open this ad and there was a picture. Not uncommon. But it was a picture of a man’s face. A beautiful man’s face. I don’t know if men like being referred to as beautiful. They probably prefer handsome or sexy or gorgeous or fuckable or something like that, but this face was beautiful. And he had this nicely written ad looking for NSA fun. Not that I was looking for NSA fun although sometimes I feel like it would be easier, but even though I’m broken inside, I need a connection of some sort in order to enjoy sex and even then, sometimes I still don’t enjoy it. Like I said, I’m broken. So I’m looking at this face and I’m reading this guy’s ad that basically said are you frustrated with your home situation or are you just lonely? I’m 6’3 with a big dick or something along those lines. I emailed him. I couldn’t refrain from emailing him. It’s like I have this inner therapist or this insatiable curiosity about why people do what they do. This is not the first time that I’ve emailed people wondering “why?” I send him an email that basically says, “What the fuck are you doing, man? Why are you on CL looking for sex? Why would you have to go on CL and look for anything? Do you not have any mirrors in your house? You seem pretty literate according to the grammatically correct writing in your ad and for whatever reason you decided to post a picture of your face, which nobody does by the way, you are beautiful.” And then I probably blah blah blabbed for another second or two. And surprisingly, he didn’t send me a message back that said, “Fuck you! Who the fuck are you to give my ad a grade?” I totally expected that message. But he did send me a message back that basically said thanks and that he was just feeling down about himself recently and I replied and asked him why? And he replied and said he didn’t know and then there were a few more emails and then he said that I was right that he didn’t need to be on some random website, he just needed to grow some balls and get out there and meet a nice lady and he was deleting his post. And then I was all, “whoa whoa, whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You could totally meet someone awesome on CL (Hint: I’m pretty awesome).” I know, I’m super witty. Plus, you would have to see his face to understand. Have you ever looked at someone and just been like, “I must meet this person”? I actually do it all the time. He had that face. If it hadn’t been a stupid bathroom selfie, I would have thought the picture was fake, but I could tell it was real.

Anyway, we had a good chuckle at my email and I told him I would like to give him my number if he wanted it. Another thing I never do. I mean, I will give anybody my number, but they usually have to ask for it. Hell I would have given this guy all my numbers if he had asked : phone number.. here you go. Social security number… have it. Address…. are you coming now? Bringing your toothbrush? Seriously, I wish I could post a picture of his face, but he deleted his ad before I got a chance to get all stalker creepy and screenshot it. He says yes, he would like my phone number and then proceeds to tell me how now he’s nervous about calling, which is fine with me. I tell him we can continue to email. It’s basically the same thing as a text now anyways. It comes straight to my phone. It’s not like I have to sit by the computer and wait for it to come through. It’s not taking any time out of my day to email vs. text, but I did find it weird that he wouldn’t text me, but then again, I messaged him from a craigslist ad. I could very easily be a killer. Although, my frivolous nature would probably find me as a victim first. So we exchanged emails almost all day and he really is the sweetest thing. So sweet, I had to double check on his age because I felt like there was a very good chance he was a 20 year old….virgin probably. But he’s almost forty.

Like I said, we talked almost all day via email. I had to work last night. I didn’t get off until 9. He asked me if I wanted to meet “not for sex, but for a drink.” And of course I said yes. But then we couldn’t really agree on a spot and then I realized that I was tired. And in the midst of the conversation I was like I work at this place on this side of town so I’d rather not go to that side of town. You guys are totally right. I should stop telling people where I work and where I live, but my judgment has not gotten me killed yet so I thought, what the hell. I’ll stop after this one. We never did figure out where we were going to meet before I got home, put on my comfy clothes and made my mint tea and then he said something about not staying out too late so I just told him, “why don’t you just swing by my house, I’ll come outside, we can meet real quick and that will be that” because there’s no such thing as an early night especially if we are meeting at 10pm. I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation that’s lasted less than an hour. People like talking to me. It’s weird. He said that would work and he was on his way.

I know what you’re thinking, “why, crazy lady, would you invited a stranger over?” It’s probably because I’ve never met a stranger and so far in 40 years of life it hasn’t backfired on me. It’s the ones I know who I invite over that end up causing all the destruction. So he pulls up. I walk outside. We introduce ourselves. It was supposed to be brief. An hour and a half later I’m still standing at the window of his truck and he’s still parked in the middle of the street. I know a small part of his life story and I’m slightly heartbroken. He loves reggae, is a general contractor (he builds houses), has a cheating wife, three kids, he’s heartbroken. Yea, I did a double take on the wife thing too. I don’t think he was really looking for an affair. Don’t worry. We didn’t have one. Yet.

Just kidding. I don’t really do the whole sleeping with someone else’s husband thing. I might have loose morals but I still have some morals. Although,  if I was ever going to be tempted to have a “mister,” this guy could have easily been the one but I don’t think I want someone else’s guy even if that guy loves reggae music and is a six foot tall Samoan with tattoos, common sense,  and a great smile. I could totally find my own, right? So maybe we will end up as friends. Or I’ll be his therapist. His sex therapist. Ok, bad joke. I know. I’m full of them. But seriously, can you be just friends with a married man if you’re single or do you have to friend the whole couple? I’m not sure of the rules on this. I need clarification. Maybe I could just be a sister wife?! Do you have to be Mormon for that?

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