Chapter 11: Redirection

So "Goofy" was really distracting my thoughts away from "Tramp". Since he was on the Force in the same city I worked in, I found myself scoping the streets everyday on my way in, or at lunch, or even on my way home if I got off early enough. I would see him most mornings, in that sexy uniform, on the side of the road having pulled someone over. (He wasn't a very forgiving cop.) Once or twice we saw each other on the road, or stopped at a red light next to each other and exchange some flirty smiles and chat.

A couple of phone calls later, but no second date. I'll admit, I tried prompting him to tell me if he wanted to see me again. He proceeded to tell me that he'd had a lot on his mind and admitted that he'd been offered a job opportunity in another city in another state VERY far away. He was sincere, and I believed him. While this wasn't an official "kiss-off" conversation, it was easy for me to read between the lines. It made me feel a little easier about letting it go knowing that his main reason for not pursuing me was that he didn't want to get tangled up in a love affair if he knew he was moving. At least, that's what I told myself.

Now that I was officially able to let "Goofy" go, it didn't take long before my thoughts wandered over to "Tramp" again. It occurred to me that I was probably attracted to "Goofy" because he took my mind off "Tramp", but then it also occurred to me that I was able to let Goofy go so easily because I had some closure with him. And I hate having to say that. It is the cheesiest girl-thing out there... this whole craze about "closure". Sometimes I just want to slap MYSELF upside the head and scream, "HEY, BOZO! NO ANSWER *IS* YOUR ANSWER!" But no, my irrationale kicks in and has to "hear" the words, hear the rejection, feel the finality of it. Not knowing or understanding why “Tramp” disappeared like he did was still consuming me from the inside out. The only thing that was going to help was to put some serious distance between me and the “Tramp.”

Hence I began a "First Date Feeding Frenzy."

Go back and read Lesson Number Six: Don't obsess. Move on.

Status: Still Oblivious

Chapter 10: Is it hopeless?

So over the previous few weeks, I'd been in contacted by this police officer through Match.com. I had to admit that “Goofy” was doing "the chase" and it was quite flattering. With everything that had gone on with "Tramp" I had been too consumed to invest any time into anyone else, really. But we had kept up some casual email banter, and now he was itching to talk on the phone.

I wondered if my bust of a date with “Dumbo” was indicative of any date I might try to have until I could get “Tramp” out of my head. Would my unconscious "bar" be set to “Tramp?” Would I be able to be interested in someone that I didn't find as intelligent, or sexy, or charming? Regardless, I had to try.

So “Goofy” was certainly working it. He was attentive and funny, and he seemed quite interested in me. After all, he'd been diligently chasing me on email for several weeks at this point and had not seemed turned off that I had kept him at arm's length. I wasn't extremely physically attracted to him from his pictures, but he was kind of adorable in a goofy (pun intended) kind of way. He had great personality, though, and I could tell that he seemed like a genuinely happy person. By amazing coincidence, he served in the same city that I worked in, so a lunch date was the obvious choice. We agreed to meet at a cute little hole in the wall place we both knew of that served really amazing food, as cute little holes in the wall tend to do.

When I arrived at the café, I was pleasantly surprised. He was better looking and even more charming in person. He was no fox, by any stretch of the imagination, but the uniform certainly didn't hurt. We girls like men in uniforms, you know. I found myself smiling and playing with my hair A LOT. I felt a tad in the spotlight while we ate our lunch, as people kept staring at him in his prestigious uniform. What? Do people think that cops don't eat? Or maybe it's because we were at a real restaurant and not a Dunkin' Donuts or a Waffle House?

It was a great lunch. I hated having to leave. But alas, both of our jobs were demanding that we return. He walked me to my car and opened my door for me. I've had my door opened plenty of times when I was getting in the passenger side of my date's car, but no one had ever opened the door of MY car for me to get in and drive away. We shared a very tight hug and agreed to talk soon. As I drove back to my office, it occurred to me that I had not thought about "Tramp" in over an hour... And I liked that.

Chapter 9: What is the best way to get over an old love?

Find a new love, right? So “Dumbo” starts contacting me through Match. He was a little different than I would normally go after. A little southern, built, not scrawny, your typical jock. And he was a jock... He told me he was a basketball coach for a large college here in Georgia. (Keeping it anonymous... won't tell you the school :-P) He also told me that he had a PhD in physical education administration. A PhD? Really??? As I've gotten older, I've realized that intelligence is quite the turn on to me! I realize, of course, that a PhD in Physical Education isn't exactly your Nobel Prize scholar, but a PhD is a PhD, and they aren't easy to get, regardless of the field!

We passed emails back and forth for several days. “Dumbo” was flirty, confident, and very eager to meet me. I thought it might be adventurous and spontaneous to try not talking on the phone first. We kept it on email only, and decided to meet one evening in a park. We ended up spending a lot of time kissing and very little time talking. Which, in reality, I had to admit that it was for the best, because every time he opened his mouth, he had the vocabulary of a 10th grader. PhD? You CAN'T be serious???

During this kiss-fest, I realized that I was trying (very poorly, mind you) to capture the intensity of the connection I'd had with “Tramp.” Maybe I was being a bit vengeful, too. Not that he would know it, but something, somewhere, in the miniscule corners of my brain, told me that if I could get excited about someone else, I wouldn't obsess over why he vanished so abruptly. But even while I was kissing “Dumbo,” I couldn't help but compare how great the kisses were the night “Tramp” came over.

Eventually I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I called it a night with “Dumbo.” He claimed he had to go anyway to catch an early flight to do some recruiting at another college, and he'd call me when he came back in town. Of course I saw him online most of the day the next day (early flight, huh?), and didn't exactly go out of my way to contact him. And it should come as no surprise that he didn't exactly go out of his way to call when he supposedly came back into town.

In retrospect, I realize that I was so desperate to find someone that would take my mind off of “Tramp,” that I didn't really bother to take the time to get to know “Dumbo.” Call a spade a spade. It was a rebound, and I would imagine that he realized something was REALLY off. But let's face it... His 10th grade vocabulary wasn't about to sustain me on ANY level for any length of time.

Lesson Number Seven: Don't romanticize the idea of someone just because they look good on paper. Do some homework, and listen to your instincts.

Status: Pretty well learned.