Friday, 18 December 2015

No You Can’t See if My Crotch Got Old

It was the perfect ending to my oh so perfect week, a beautiful sunny September day in Ontario. I was reading on my balcony, while sipping my latte, trying to make the best of the warm fall weather we were having, even though my life was in complete chaos. I was unemployed, single, and about to be homeless. All I had to keep me going was my faith that God had better plans for me. It was right at this moment that I received a text from someone in my past, a guy whom I had a tumultuous relationship with twenty five years ago. In the text he asked if I was still working at my previous job. It was a weird coincidence that he would text me that question within weeks of me leaving a job I'd been at for elevan years. I said no I wasn’t there anymore, and asked him why he was inquiring about my employment status. He said the place he was working at was hiring. I declined his offer by saying politely that I no longer wanted to work in the hospitality industry, but thank you for thinking of me.

A few days went by and I started to panic. I didn’t have enough money to sustain myself, and thought maybe that text was a sign that I was meant to work where my ex, let’s call him Dick, was offering me employment. I texted Dick back to say I was interested and had an interview the next day. The owner was quite nice, he offered me a job on the spot, unfortunately the place was infested with wasps, but beggars can’t be choosers. I thought it would be nice to have someone I’d known for years on my side in a place that was going to be new to me, people can be quite vicious in the service industry.

My ex,’ Dick’ waited for me to finish the interview and offered to buy me a drink; I had been spending quite a bit of time alone over the past three years since my parents passed away, which made any company a welcoming thought.

I'd previously told Dick several times that I will never be interested in getting back together with him. I shot him down every time he made a move on me over the past eight years, I had to get nasty, because my kind rebuttals weren't getting through to him. The last message I left Dick was that I will never have feelings for him, please stop, there is no chance that I will ever want to be with him again. If he was willing to work with me after a text like that obviously I must have finally gotten through to him, he must be ready to be just friends, right?


We had some drinks outside on the patio at a local restaurant within walking distance to my place so that I wouldn’t have to worry about drinking and driving. He lost his license, and his car years ago. After we left the patio we walked to the liquor store and decided to have a few drinks at my condo. I know, stupid move, but in my defense, I have told Dick several times that I have a boyfriend in the States.

We were catching up on our past relationships, reminiscing about the times we used to hang out, most of the stories he mentioned were nights I couldn’t remember at all. I hadn’t been thinking about him over the past years. It did become clear to me however, that he had been thinking about me. Then he started talking about the crappy things he did to me; such as refusing the diamond stud earrings I bought him for Christmas because he only wears gold hoops, and the time I planned a romantic getaway and he left ten minutes after we checked into the hotel to go to a club with his friends, just to name a couple, there were plenty. I didn’t remember the Christmas incident but I remembered the money I wasted on the hotel, and sitting there crying. That was the moment he chose to grab my face and try to kiss me, I pulled away, I hope that wasn't his idea of foreplay. I'm not sure why he thought bringing up our shitty past would create a romantic ambiance, it was doing quite the opposite; I was starting to dislike him all over again.

He told me he loved me, not to let a man disrespect me like he had in the past, I was too special, and that I looked exactly the same as I did when we first met. Sounds great doesn’t it. That was until he added he should’ve said I hadn’t changed from the shoulders down. Ouch what do call that an insultiment? It all started coming back to me. He did that to me all the time, built me up with a compliment followed by an insult.  I wanted to laugh, and cry at the same time. I was disappointed that I let someone like him into my life at twenty four and even more upset that I was so lonely I let him into my home that night. He was the same guy; a forty year old man who had not grown as a person since the age of nineteen. He seemed to think he had, I know this because he's spent the last eight years trying to convince me that he was a different man, and I should give him another chance. The reality is, that wasn't real love then, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be now.

His next big move was informing me that older women are getting plastic surgery on their crotch so that is doesn’t look old and saggy. Then he asked me how mine looked, and if he could see it. I said its fine thanks, and no you can't see it. I should’ve asked him to leave, but I was not up for a confrontation. I was intoxicated and not strong enough to squash this path of destruction we were headed down, especially since we were about to be working together.

He continued to ask if he could see my box for himself, so that he could be the judge of whether or not it looked old, and haggard. I gave him a firm no, not a flirty no, a solid no. Then he asked if he could touch it, that was it, I said I was tired, and it was time for him to go.

The next day I called the woman I used to work for at the Baseball Stadium and was offered a shift as a hostess in a private suite for a big concert, things were looking up.

It was humbling when I got my tips at the end of the night, after seeing a twenty five year old worth millions peform; I had only a few dollars left after parking. As I waited for the traffic to thin out I sat in my car and spent the rest of my Saturday night streaming a movie on my phone. The tears ran down my face as I realized I was going to have to give up my condo, store my furniture, and rent a tiny room. After the movie was over, and the traffic had cleared, I pulled out to exit the parking lot only to be stopped at the gate by the parking lot attendant. He insisted that he recognized me, and even though he looked vaguely familiar, I hadn’t parked there in over ten years, and was not in any state of mind to entertain his banter. I shrugged my shoulder and showed him my parking receipt. He was not having it; he insisted he knew me, and that I used to park there when I was young and pretty.           

Crotch guy wasn’t looking so bad now.

However the next day I turned down the job with Dick, told him for the last time that I will not ever have romantic feelings for him, and he just needs to accept that.

Then I made several appointments for Botox, and facial acupuncture.

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