Better, even, than Prozac.

I was thinking about that email I got the other day from the guy I dated that one time and I realized that a great deal of the sadness in my life stems from the fact that since I’m married now, I don’t have nearly as many people to make fun of.

Because dating? Was an exercise in hilarity.

I guess I’m not really great at dating. I’ve always pretty much been in relationships. I had boyfriends. Long-term boyfriends. I didn’t go out and, you know, play the field. The thought of me “playing the field” actually makes me laugh until my face hurts.

Also? The boyfriends I had weren’t exactly Rico Suave. You know? I dated this one guy who wore a pink Makita hat. Makita, to the best of my recollection, is a company that makes tools, which makes it even more sad and appropriate.

After I got divorced, I wasn’t really looking to get remarried right away. I figured that eventually someone would love me and want to marry me, but I didn’t count on it happening right away and frankly? I didn’t really want it to happen right away. I wanted a chance to kind of figure out who I am, or some crap. I wanted to be okay by myself, before I had someone else to be okay with me.

What did happen, as soon as I started dating, was that I met a random collection of the most desperate men on the planet. And some of them wanted to, you know, marry me. Which was so weird. Because I hated them.

This one time? I went out with this guy who was in the Army. He really wanted to be a Marine, but the Marines rejected him. I could not stand him, seriously. I have no idea why my self-esteem was so low that I would even consider dating such a douchenozzle. So, my brother-in-law was there when he called and I said, “Oh my GOD, I do not want to talk to him!” and my brother-in-law answered the phone and said, “She’s asleep. Do you want me to roll over and wake her up?” and the dude was all like, “Okay.”

Can you believe that? Are there really people that desperate on this planet?

Because, seriously. Have you seen me? I will not be winning any awards for my beauty. My butt might win an award, but it would be one of those, “You have the biggest butt ever” awards, and that’s just not the kind of thing you advertise.

Also? These men were not wanting to date me because of my sharp wit. They didn’t UNDERSTAND my sharp wit. I would say the most hilarious thing, EVER, and they would just look at me with that look in their eyes. That, oh-my-freaking-Lord-I-have-no-idea-what-she-is-talking-about-
should-I-laugh-now kind of look.

And then I would go home and tell my sister about them and we would laugh and laugh and everything would be good.

Now I’m an old married lady and men still do things which I consider really strange. Like, two summers ago? This guy I work with asked me out on a date. And I was all like, “Dude. I’m married.” And he said, “Oh.”

The pictures of my husband and children on my desk didn’t clue you in? How about the engagement ring and wedding band? No? Okay, my bad. I’m going to have my marriage certificate laminated and put it on a chain to wear around my neck.

Just this morning, this guy I work with said, “Has anyone told you this morning how lovely you look today?”

Dude says this to every single female in the building. Every. Single. Day. And he’s married!

I said, “No. No one but you likes to lie to me.”

Which was probably not nice.

But did shut him up. So I still won.