He didn't make the cut.

Sometimes, I look at my husband and think,

"I'm so glad I am married."

Because, dating? Well, it blew goats.

Other times I think, "Man, I wish I had more people to make fun of. My co-workers and neighbors really don't provide me enough blog fodder."

Those times? I miss dating.

When I opened up my MSN page today there was an article entitled,"How to date while pregnant." Although I am considerably infertile, barren even, and also, you know, married and not in the market for dating, I HAD TO READ THIS ARTICLE.

It was interesting, but did irritate me somewhat. They TOTALLY neglected the section for women who were dumped by their first husband while expecting twins. I guess there is just not a big market for talking about such things.

I was legally married while pregnant, so dating would have been out of the question anyway. It didn't stop my ex-husband, unfortunately, but I did have maybe about 1/10th of an ounce of class about me and just didn't do it.

After we were legally divorced, though, I decided to hit the social scene much like a dog on a meat wagon. I had a personal ad at Yahoo Personals. It said that I was overweight, somewhat unattractive and had two kids but it's okay, no one ever read it because all the men looked at my age and location and emailed me, totally not giving a crap about my personality, my looks or the number of children I had. I think they just wanted someone local. To, you know, sleep with.

For me, it was all just for fun. I was breaking hearts and taking names and not giving up the booty.

I met a man I worked with. He was a short, short man. I mean, I'm tall. I'm nearly five foot eleven. But he was short. Like, way short for a guy. I am guessing here but I think I probably had a good six or seven inches on him.

But he was nice. Really nice. Funny. Cute. Well groomed. Appropriate teeth.

He had a daughter. I believe her name was Bailey. He had moved, recently, to the area with her. He talked about her a lot.

One day he asked me to go have a drink with him after work.

I don't drink alcohol, but I don't care if others do. The fact that I don't drink had come up a lot. I honestly don't understand why people think I'm a big weirdo because I don't drink. It's not like I go around saying, "You're going to burn in hell if you don't put down that Bud Lite!" I could give a crap, you know? It was just something I decided not to do.

Anyway. We meet at this bar, pub-ish place. He starts drinking. A lot. He asks me what I'll have and I said a Diet Coke and started getting really weird about it so I told him I forgot my drivers license. Which was, actually, true. I often walk off and live pertinent things behind.

He kept drinking. A lot.

We talked. He had moved to North Carolina from...okay, I can't remember. I want to say Maine. I could be totally wrong. It doesn't matter. He moved from somewhere and was starting life anew with his child. He told me the mother of his daughter was somewhere between batshit crazy and Mommie Dearest, so he had to rescue this child from her clutches! He asked about my life, my divorce, what brought me to North Carolina. All the usual crap.

He kept drinking. So much the bartender finally told him he was cut off.

We went outside. It was dark, but not cold. It was never cold there. I was like, "Let me drive you home." He refused. He actually went quite mental about it. Despite the fact that I could have stepped on him to subdue him, I was actually quite nervous. He was making such a scene.

Then, he said, "I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?"

And before I could say a word, he turned around and PUKED ALL OVER THE PARKING LOT.

I jumped back because I was wearing cute shoes and didn't want the remains of the 2 for 1 Happy Hour specials all over them. He stepped over his own puddle of puke and...

Went in for the kiss. Puke-breath and all.

OH. HELL. NO.

I very politely lept backwards approximately sixty feet and sort of waved at him and said, "I think we'll just leave it at this for tonight!"

I then ran to my vehicle and drove away. Fast.

The next day, at work, he appeared. He did not apologize for his actions. He DID however reveal that he was living with his baby's momma. So that made sense at to why he didn't want me driving him home. I do not think she would have been pleased to see me.

My favorite part? After revealing this to me he said, "How about we go and catch a movie tomorrow night?"



That? Did not go into my dayplanner.