How I Met My Husband: Part II in a Series

As promised, Part Deux.

Now, don't go thinking for one minute that this is the story of how I met Mr. J. Oh, hell no! I've got nearly a dozen freakish tales to tell.

Blind Date #2: Bitter Divorced Man Whose Wife Left Him for Another Woman.

I was friends with a woman named Diana. She had gotten pregnant pretty young (20, I think. Sigh. At least I'll always have a job) and married her husband who had been her boyfriend since she was 14 and he was 17. They had a troubled marriage. To say the least. And, since she went to college later in life, she had this sort of mystical fantasy idea of what college friends might be like - very The Big Chill, you know? Her husband's best friend from high school was going through a divorce and had just moved back to town from out of state to get his life sorted out. Diana was beyond thrilled. "What if you and Jim really hit it off, and Jim and Joe are best friends and you and I are close friends and the four of us could do lots of things as a couple and I'd finally have the wonderful dinner parties I've always wanted."

I must have been going through a social dry spell, because if someone says she wants to fix you up so she can finally have her dinner parties, there is just one thing to do: Run. Screaming loudly, in the opposite direction. But, you know, I hadn't had a date since FBI guy and how could Jim be any worse? So Diana arranged it.

We met at this cute little tavern. Diana and Joe picked me up at my place and we planned to meet Jim there. Interestingly, Jim was also late. There is a theme here. In order for anyone to be in a relationship with me, they must understand that I am the chronically late one, okay? Me. There's only room for one spoiled brat in a couple and that brat is me.

Anyway, Jim finally showed up and the minute I laid eyes on him, all I wanted to do was kick Diana in the shins, really, really hard. Brief summary: All denim, all the time. Jeans. Denim shirt. Unbuttoned (I kid you not. I am not making this shit up) 3 buttons down. EEEK!! It was bad. So, I gave myself my mental, "Don't be so judgmental. Books, covers, etc., etc., etc.," speech.

Introductions, blah, blah, blah. We went to dinner. Joe and Jim spent the entire meal reminiscing about high school. I hated high school. You do not get on my good side by reminiscing about high school. And it was that really obnoxious reminiscing with lots of high-fiving across the table (Note: we were in a nice little bistro - not Burger King. Although what with all the talk about Stubby and Smitty and Bubba and Jimbo and Tim-Tim, and all the high-fiving, it did feel a bit like a Friday night after the big game). Diana and I tried to have our own conversation, but we were sitting across from each other and it was really distracting because every three minutes, a high-five was going off in my face. And every story was the same: Alcohol surreptitiously obtained. High five. Breaking and entering - usually a public facility - park, water tower, you get the picture. High five. Bodily injury. High five. Lies to parents. High five. Repeat, changing the type of alcohol from beer to Tequila or vice versa.

After dinner, I pulled Diana aside and begged her to fake a baby-sitter emergency so they could take me home. (The only good thing about this ridiculous date is that it made me create a future rule that always came in handy: I drive. Even if friends offer to pick me up. Always.) She begged me to hang out with them a little longer and just try to get to know Jim. I hadn't even really given him a chance, you know? Sigh.

We all went to hear some band. At some point Diana and Joe got in a monster fight. The band took a break. Rather than watch Diana and Joe trade insults, I decided to initiate a non-high-fiving conversation with Jim: (Warning: Direct quotes = major profanity to follow.)

me: Well, Diana tells me you have a daughter, Riley. She's 3, right?
Jim: It doesn't matter.
me: What?
Jim: It's only a matter of time before she realizes what a complete and total fucking whore her mother is. (Italics mine. WTF!?!??!!?)
me: Stunned silence.

Five minute pregnant pause ensues.

me: You know, I realize it's none of my business, but I hope for your daughter's sake that you and her mother can come to have a more amicable relationship. It's going to be really difficult for her growing up if --
Jim (interrupting): Oh, I'm not worried. I ain't done havin' babies yet.
me: Extra taser-stunned silence.

Another pause. Glares. Jim finally tries to end the stalemate by laughing. I interrupted Diana and Joe's fight. "Excuse me. I am feeling quite ill. I need to go home immediately." Jim said, "So, we're done here, right?" You bet your ass, we're done. From what Diana told me, he went to another bar, probably to find his next baby's mama. I went home and started calling everyone I'd ever met to tell them about this loser, because how could I not?