I am not incredibly close with my co-workers. By that I mean I don’t know most of their spouses’ and kids’ names, ages nor do I visit or chat with them after hours. There’s nothing wrong with my co-workers, they are typical, average people with typical average issues and experiences. Those of you that know me understand that I’m simply not a social flower.
I do chat with them occasionally, but not so much as to actually become involved in their domestic lives. Life is just simpler for me that way.
One of the groups of co-workers I deal with daily is what I refer to as the ‘change control ladies’ I call them that because they are responsible for managing changes in the system software, and they all happen to be female. I use the word ‘ladies’ because I am a polite southern boy, not because they have done anything specific to actually earn the title.
Yesterday I approached them on yet another work-related issue. It was easily and quickly resolved and the conversation suddenly broke down into banal pleasantries and chit-chat. Though I tried to break away politely I found myself uncomfortably engaged in their personal lives. Vicky, who I know to be recently de-coupled is the mother of two teen-like children whose names I can never remember. She is somewhere between thirty five and forty as I recall, (My bet is closer to forty though she has denied that on a few loud occasions.) She’s a reasonably nice lady, and competent at her job, which is all I really care about. The personal information she has given me over the course of the last two years was all unsolicited. She just likes to chat about her personal life, and I am just too nice to tell her to shut up and leave me out of it.
For some irrational reason she asked me for an opinion about a dating crisis. This, of course was a pitiful mistake.
“I’ve got a question for you Dennis, about dating; I’d like a man’s opinion.” She said.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I answered.
“No really, this is really bothering me and I need some advice!” She was pleading.
Abby, another of the change control ladies jumped out of her chair and ran to the cubicle. She leaped towards Vicky, in a way that reminded me of those slow motion scenes of a brave secret service agent jumping in front of a sniper’s bullet. “Noooooooooooooo!’ she cried.
“Why not?” Vicky asked her.
“Do you realize who you are asking for relationship advice?” Abby answered while looking at me with that disgusted look in her face that she gets whenever I visit the area.
I actually like Abby. I know little about her other than she’s married to a guy, has somewhere between one and twelve kids, and at around thirty is probably the youngest of the ladies. None of that is interesting or appeals to me, but she does own a dog, or maybe more than one dog, and I think it is a pit bull. Anyway, Abby asks me about my dogs occasionally and that’s enough for me to like her. And she is competent at her work.
“Have you forgotten? He’s married everyone he ever dated!” Abby answered.
“Vicky looked at me as if I had just emanated a foul odor. “Eww, that’s right, you have haven’t you?”
“You only say that because that’s what I told you, so you certainly don’t know it as a fact since I tend to lie about such things.” I answered.
“You lied to us about marrying everyone you ever dated?” Abby asked.
I thought about it for a moment. “No, no I didn’t, but the point is I could have lied about it.”
Vicky pondered for a bit. “Well, still I’d like to know your opinion.”
Abby sighed. “You asked for it.” She muttered as she headed back to her own cube.
I sat down, leaned back, crossed my legs and pressed my fingertips together in front of me. “How can I help you ma’am?”
“I told you not to call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.” She scolded.
“That’s what makes you feel old?” I answered, adding; “Not the actual aging process? Hmm.”.
She swore at me with her eyes. I felt an apology was in order:
“You know that I am incapable of calling you anything other than ma’am, since I am a proper southern boy and am zealously mindful of propriety. ‘Ma’am’ is an expression of respect that should make you feel flattered, not disgusted. Had you paid heed to or actually had a proper upbringing you would know that, so do not dare blame me for your inexcusable lack of couth.”
Her face reddened and tightened a little more, but she was still not deterred, I was perhaps being too polite, perhaps sending mixed messages.
“Seriously, I just need some help with a dating crisis.” She looked frustrated.
“Proceed then, I’m happy to be of service.” I resumed a completely false compassionate posture and tone.
“Here’s the deal..’ The story unfolded. “I’ve got a blind date tonight at six-thirty at Applebee’s with a man I met on the internet.
“That is a problem.” I responded.
“What?, No, no, no, that’s not the problem…” She replied.
“I assure you ma’am, that that is not just A problem, that’s like three problems already, are you saying there’s more?”
“What three problems?” She asked, genuinely worried
“ Applebee’s, Internet, blind date, man. You’re right there’s four problems, not three.” I answered counting on my fingers.
“ What’s wrong with any of that?” She foolishly asked.
“1. Applebee’s, you’ve set the bar too low. The cheap date flag is up. 2. Internet. Internet dating sites are where pathetic liars go to lie to each other. 3. Blind date, they got the name ‘blind’ because of the common desire to gouge one’s eyes out upon actual meeting. 4. You want to date a man? That both surprises and disappoints me.”
She stared at me for a few moments, probably in awe of my analytical skills.
“Why would you … how the… what makes you think I don’t date men?”
“Hmm” I reflected, “Just a false assumption on my part, don’t worry I do that a lot.” I glanced at my watch to let her know I had other things I’d rather be doing. She didn’t get the message. (Note to self, work more on improving body language skills, get a bigger mirror and practice, practice, practice!)
“You think I’m, … uh, why would you..?” She seemed to be at a loss for words over this minor point.
“I said don’t worry about it, my mistake, I shouldn’t take everyone else’s word for things I don’t know to be a fact.”
This did not seem to relieve her stress any.
“Who.. but , wait, what the?” She was starving for a coherent sentence.
“Please go on with your dilemma, I don’t have all day to waste on a trivial tangent, besides, I’m very open minded about such things and I hope you don’t feel the need to apologize or explain yourself, regardless of your personal tastes, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Why ARE you here?” Abby shouted over the cube wall.
Vicky finally closed her mouth long enough to start thinking again.
“Anyway, the date is not the real problem.” She drummed her fingers.
I felt the need to calm her down, get her back on focus. “We can vehemently disagree on some things and still make progress, it’s all a healthy part of the process, so please, go ahead.”
She now appeared to be mentally chewing her nails. “Anyway, there’s another guy I’ve dated a couple of times, nothing serious..”
I broke in. “By serious I assume you mean you haven’t . . . “ I paused.
Her eyes flared again. “What? Haven’t what? What are you asking ?”
“Uh, It’s not really important, we can get back to that later.”
“So this other guy, called me earlier, and we just chatted, and he mentioned that he was taking his daughter out to dinner tonight. I didn’t think about it much at the time, but I. . . “
I had to interrupt. “How old is his daughter?”
“Fourteen, but what’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m just creating mental imagery, it’s vital to my full understanding of the situation. So is she a mature fourteen or a pigtail and Hello-Kitty fourteen?”
“I don’t think I’m going to answer that.” She seemed distracted again.
“Very well, continue, but don’t blame me for bad advice later if you won’t give me important details now.”
“So I didn’t think much about it at the time, but later I started thinking how awkward it would be if he took his daughter to Applebee’s while I’m on this blind date.” This lady was unstoppable
“You think he would feel awkward at Applebee’s with his daughter? I can’t pretend to know why since you are obviously withholding information about her.”
“No, you idiot, how awkward it would be for him to see me out with another guy!”
“He doesn’t know you date men either? How odd, where would he have heard that?”
“No, no, no, of course he knows I date men. I mean the fact that we have dated and I didn’t tell him I was going out tonight, you know!”
“I’m not sure I understand the problem.”
Wouldn’t you think it was awkward to walk into a restaurant and see someone you dated having a date with someone else?
“That’s completely different.”
“How is that different?” She asked, obviously devoid of common sense.
“Because… “ I started…
“Because he MARRIED everyone he dated!” Came the cry over the cubicle wall.
I just smiled and nodded my head.
“You don’t see that it would be awkward for ME, and these two men?” She continued despite my lack of interest.
“Well that depends on how much you have lied to them.”
“I haven’t lied to them about anything!” She seemed hurt.
“Really? You’re dating a couple of men and you haven’t lied to them at all? What kind of clueless idiot do you think I am?”
“I know, I know !” called Abby like an anxious school girl. We ignored her, at least I did.
“I have not lied to either of them!” she insisted.
“ How could you possibly get two guys to ever take you out on a date on truth alone. Such a notion is completely unthinkable, impossible!”
“Well I never told them I was dating other guys.” She looked suddenly sheepish.
I decided to let her off easily. “Well, now that you finally admit that I was, in fact completely correct by calling you a liar, I think we can go forward. I have a conclusion and a couple of words of advice. I’ll go ahead and share them with you In the interest of time, since we’ve wasted quite enough already.”
Abby joined us. “I’ve got to hear this.”
“Vicky, assuming that the scant information you have given is correct, complete, and honest, I can not see any reason whatsoever for you to be concerned. In fact I really can’t believe you have created a colossal crisis here out of such a contrived pile of tedious trivialities composed of nothing more than balled up gooey wads of emotional insecurity. “
“So you don’t think that it’s a problem?” She asked.
“Didn’t I just say that? You’re a female; you are expert at creating drama for any and all reasons, especially where none actually exists. You can’t help it, just recognize it. There is no problem here, assuming you were not lying anymore than you have already indicated, and I apologize for continuing to come back to that point, but it is vital. If you have made no promises, or assertions about fidelity to either man then you are not at fault for any irrational expectations or assumptions that they might make.”
“I told you that’s what a guy would say” Abby piled on.
“Wow, I’m really glad to hear that, thanks.” ( I kid you not, she actually thanked me.)
“However…” I started.
“There’s more?” Abby looked anxious.
“However, what?” Asked Vicky.
“I should warn you that should this unlikely event actually occur, that the dynamics of both relationships will irrevocably change.” I offered.
“How will they change?”
“If they are both normal men, or, considering your options, near normal, and neither is already too badly damaged, then both men will start to become even more and more interested in you.”
She looked utterly shocked. “Why that’s just what Abby said!”
I glanced over at Abby, her face was proud, arms folded, nodding.
“She’s a dog owner, of course she understands.” I winked at Abby.
“What’s that got to do with anything? Vicky asked.
“I’ll speak more slowly so you can understand. If you ever watch a group of dogs, just laying about minding their own business, then one of them gets up and picks up one of the many chew toys lying around, what happens?”
“I have no idea.”
“Abby, you tell her.”
Abby perked up. “They all suddenly want THAT chew toy.”
“That’s correct, Abby, absolutely correct.”
“Why?” queried Vicky.
“I’m not a botanist, I have no idea, but its in their DNA, it’s in OUR DNA. We want what someone else has; we covet to the point of sheer madness. As soon as a guy sees you with another guy he becomes more interested in you.” I felt silly explaining this basic primal concept.
“That makes no sense.” Vicky replied.
“It doesn’t have to make sense, it’s just how animals behave”
“Especially men!” Abby interjected. I scolded her with a furrowed brow.
“If you go out somewhere by yourself you will appear damaged, desperate and undesirable. That certainly appeals to some men, but probably not the kind of man you are looking for. If you are out WITH a man, it’s like being pre-approved for a loan; you are desirable to the men who want someone who is less a risk of being just another crazy loser”
“That’s pathetic!”
“I don’t make the rules princess; I’m just here to explain them to you. It probably wouldn’t be necessary had you had better parenting, But that’s not entirely your fault.”
“Did you just insult her parents?” Abby asked, gleefully. I shushed her again and let the short silence hammer home the resounding wisdom.
“Wow, that explains quite a bit.” Vicki deflated.
“One more thing, if I may, ma’am.”
“He called you ma’am again! He never calls me ma’am, I guess I’m not old enough to be a ma’am yet.” Abby giddily interrupted.
Vicky pretended to ignore Abby:” What else?”
“If you remember or heed nothing else from this conversation, please promise me at least one thing.” Vicky’s eyes perked up, begging me to continue. “Never, ever, ever take relationship advice from a man, ever.”
“Especially a man like Dennis.” Abby added without permission, trying to be funny, but failing miserably.
“Hey that’s right, you’ve been married like seven times, what makes you an expert on any of this anyhow?”
“I’ve been here and there sunshine, and actually tried to improve my understanding of the wiles and ways of people rather than just flopping around in the same festering cesspool of ignorance year after year, relationship after pathetic relationship. I’d love to explain it all to you but I just don’t have the time right now, perhaps we can discuss it after hours someday.” I consoled, still desperately searching for an exit.
Abby jumped up. “Oh my god! I think he just asked you out on a date!”
I do chat with them occasionally, but not so much as to actually become involved in their domestic lives. Life is just simpler for me that way.
One of the groups of co-workers I deal with daily is what I refer to as the ‘change control ladies’ I call them that because they are responsible for managing changes in the system software, and they all happen to be female. I use the word ‘ladies’ because I am a polite southern boy, not because they have done anything specific to actually earn the title.
Yesterday I approached them on yet another work-related issue. It was easily and quickly resolved and the conversation suddenly broke down into banal pleasantries and chit-chat. Though I tried to break away politely I found myself uncomfortably engaged in their personal lives. Vicky, who I know to be recently de-coupled is the mother of two teen-like children whose names I can never remember. She is somewhere between thirty five and forty as I recall, (My bet is closer to forty though she has denied that on a few loud occasions.) She’s a reasonably nice lady, and competent at her job, which is all I really care about. The personal information she has given me over the course of the last two years was all unsolicited. She just likes to chat about her personal life, and I am just too nice to tell her to shut up and leave me out of it.
For some irrational reason she asked me for an opinion about a dating crisis. This, of course was a pitiful mistake.
“I’ve got a question for you Dennis, about dating; I’d like a man’s opinion.” She said.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I answered.
“No really, this is really bothering me and I need some advice!” She was pleading.
Abby, another of the change control ladies jumped out of her chair and ran to the cubicle. She leaped towards Vicky, in a way that reminded me of those slow motion scenes of a brave secret service agent jumping in front of a sniper’s bullet. “Noooooooooooooo!’ she cried.
“Why not?” Vicky asked her.
“Do you realize who you are asking for relationship advice?” Abby answered while looking at me with that disgusted look in her face that she gets whenever I visit the area.
I actually like Abby. I know little about her other than she’s married to a guy, has somewhere between one and twelve kids, and at around thirty is probably the youngest of the ladies. None of that is interesting or appeals to me, but she does own a dog, or maybe more than one dog, and I think it is a pit bull. Anyway, Abby asks me about my dogs occasionally and that’s enough for me to like her. And she is competent at her work.
“Have you forgotten? He’s married everyone he ever dated!” Abby answered.
“Vicky looked at me as if I had just emanated a foul odor. “Eww, that’s right, you have haven’t you?”
“You only say that because that’s what I told you, so you certainly don’t know it as a fact since I tend to lie about such things.” I answered.
“You lied to us about marrying everyone you ever dated?” Abby asked.
I thought about it for a moment. “No, no I didn’t, but the point is I could have lied about it.”
Vicky pondered for a bit. “Well, still I’d like to know your opinion.”
Abby sighed. “You asked for it.” She muttered as she headed back to her own cube.
I sat down, leaned back, crossed my legs and pressed my fingertips together in front of me. “How can I help you ma’am?”
“I told you not to call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.” She scolded.
“That’s what makes you feel old?” I answered, adding; “Not the actual aging process? Hmm.”.
She swore at me with her eyes. I felt an apology was in order:
“You know that I am incapable of calling you anything other than ma’am, since I am a proper southern boy and am zealously mindful of propriety. ‘Ma’am’ is an expression of respect that should make you feel flattered, not disgusted. Had you paid heed to or actually had a proper upbringing you would know that, so do not dare blame me for your inexcusable lack of couth.”
Her face reddened and tightened a little more, but she was still not deterred, I was perhaps being too polite, perhaps sending mixed messages.
“Seriously, I just need some help with a dating crisis.” She looked frustrated.
“Proceed then, I’m happy to be of service.” I resumed a completely false compassionate posture and tone.
“Here’s the deal..’ The story unfolded. “I’ve got a blind date tonight at six-thirty at Applebee’s with a man I met on the internet.
“That is a problem.” I responded.
“What?, No, no, no, that’s not the problem…” She replied.
“I assure you ma’am, that that is not just A problem, that’s like three problems already, are you saying there’s more?”
“What three problems?” She asked, genuinely worried
“ Applebee’s, Internet, blind date, man. You’re right there’s four problems, not three.” I answered counting on my fingers.
“ What’s wrong with any of that?” She foolishly asked.
“1. Applebee’s, you’ve set the bar too low. The cheap date flag is up. 2. Internet. Internet dating sites are where pathetic liars go to lie to each other. 3. Blind date, they got the name ‘blind’ because of the common desire to gouge one’s eyes out upon actual meeting. 4. You want to date a man? That both surprises and disappoints me.”
She stared at me for a few moments, probably in awe of my analytical skills.
“Why would you … how the… what makes you think I don’t date men?”
“Hmm” I reflected, “Just a false assumption on my part, don’t worry I do that a lot.” I glanced at my watch to let her know I had other things I’d rather be doing. She didn’t get the message. (Note to self, work more on improving body language skills, get a bigger mirror and practice, practice, practice!)
“You think I’m, … uh, why would you..?” She seemed to be at a loss for words over this minor point.
“I said don’t worry about it, my mistake, I shouldn’t take everyone else’s word for things I don’t know to be a fact.”
This did not seem to relieve her stress any.
“Who.. but , wait, what the?” She was starving for a coherent sentence.
“Please go on with your dilemma, I don’t have all day to waste on a trivial tangent, besides, I’m very open minded about such things and I hope you don’t feel the need to apologize or explain yourself, regardless of your personal tastes, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Why ARE you here?” Abby shouted over the cube wall.
Vicky finally closed her mouth long enough to start thinking again.
“Anyway, the date is not the real problem.” She drummed her fingers.
I felt the need to calm her down, get her back on focus. “We can vehemently disagree on some things and still make progress, it’s all a healthy part of the process, so please, go ahead.”
She now appeared to be mentally chewing her nails. “Anyway, there’s another guy I’ve dated a couple of times, nothing serious..”
I broke in. “By serious I assume you mean you haven’t . . . “ I paused.
Her eyes flared again. “What? Haven’t what? What are you asking ?”
“Uh, It’s not really important, we can get back to that later.”
“So this other guy, called me earlier, and we just chatted, and he mentioned that he was taking his daughter out to dinner tonight. I didn’t think about it much at the time, but I. . . “
I had to interrupt. “How old is his daughter?”
“Fourteen, but what’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m just creating mental imagery, it’s vital to my full understanding of the situation. So is she a mature fourteen or a pigtail and Hello-Kitty fourteen?”
“I don’t think I’m going to answer that.” She seemed distracted again.
“Very well, continue, but don’t blame me for bad advice later if you won’t give me important details now.”
“So I didn’t think much about it at the time, but later I started thinking how awkward it would be if he took his daughter to Applebee’s while I’m on this blind date.” This lady was unstoppable
“You think he would feel awkward at Applebee’s with his daughter? I can’t pretend to know why since you are obviously withholding information about her.”
“No, you idiot, how awkward it would be for him to see me out with another guy!”
“He doesn’t know you date men either? How odd, where would he have heard that?”
“No, no, no, of course he knows I date men. I mean the fact that we have dated and I didn’t tell him I was going out tonight, you know!”
“I’m not sure I understand the problem.”
Wouldn’t you think it was awkward to walk into a restaurant and see someone you dated having a date with someone else?
“That’s completely different.”
“How is that different?” She asked, obviously devoid of common sense.
“Because… “ I started…
“Because he MARRIED everyone he dated!” Came the cry over the cubicle wall.
I just smiled and nodded my head.
“You don’t see that it would be awkward for ME, and these two men?” She continued despite my lack of interest.
“Well that depends on how much you have lied to them.”
“I haven’t lied to them about anything!” She seemed hurt.
“Really? You’re dating a couple of men and you haven’t lied to them at all? What kind of clueless idiot do you think I am?”
“I know, I know !” called Abby like an anxious school girl. We ignored her, at least I did.
“I have not lied to either of them!” she insisted.
“ How could you possibly get two guys to ever take you out on a date on truth alone. Such a notion is completely unthinkable, impossible!”
“Well I never told them I was dating other guys.” She looked suddenly sheepish.
I decided to let her off easily. “Well, now that you finally admit that I was, in fact completely correct by calling you a liar, I think we can go forward. I have a conclusion and a couple of words of advice. I’ll go ahead and share them with you In the interest of time, since we’ve wasted quite enough already.”
Abby joined us. “I’ve got to hear this.”
“Vicky, assuming that the scant information you have given is correct, complete, and honest, I can not see any reason whatsoever for you to be concerned. In fact I really can’t believe you have created a colossal crisis here out of such a contrived pile of tedious trivialities composed of nothing more than balled up gooey wads of emotional insecurity. “
“So you don’t think that it’s a problem?” She asked.
“Didn’t I just say that? You’re a female; you are expert at creating drama for any and all reasons, especially where none actually exists. You can’t help it, just recognize it. There is no problem here, assuming you were not lying anymore than you have already indicated, and I apologize for continuing to come back to that point, but it is vital. If you have made no promises, or assertions about fidelity to either man then you are not at fault for any irrational expectations or assumptions that they might make.”
“I told you that’s what a guy would say” Abby piled on.
“Wow, I’m really glad to hear that, thanks.” ( I kid you not, she actually thanked me.)
“However…” I started.
“There’s more?” Abby looked anxious.
“However, what?” Asked Vicky.
“I should warn you that should this unlikely event actually occur, that the dynamics of both relationships will irrevocably change.” I offered.
“How will they change?”
“If they are both normal men, or, considering your options, near normal, and neither is already too badly damaged, then both men will start to become even more and more interested in you.”
She looked utterly shocked. “Why that’s just what Abby said!”
I glanced over at Abby, her face was proud, arms folded, nodding.
“She’s a dog owner, of course she understands.” I winked at Abby.
“What’s that got to do with anything? Vicky asked.
“I’ll speak more slowly so you can understand. If you ever watch a group of dogs, just laying about minding their own business, then one of them gets up and picks up one of the many chew toys lying around, what happens?”
“I have no idea.”
“Abby, you tell her.”
Abby perked up. “They all suddenly want THAT chew toy.”
“That’s correct, Abby, absolutely correct.”
“Why?” queried Vicky.
“I’m not a botanist, I have no idea, but its in their DNA, it’s in OUR DNA. We want what someone else has; we covet to the point of sheer madness. As soon as a guy sees you with another guy he becomes more interested in you.” I felt silly explaining this basic primal concept.
“That makes no sense.” Vicky replied.
“It doesn’t have to make sense, it’s just how animals behave”
“Especially men!” Abby interjected. I scolded her with a furrowed brow.
“If you go out somewhere by yourself you will appear damaged, desperate and undesirable. That certainly appeals to some men, but probably not the kind of man you are looking for. If you are out WITH a man, it’s like being pre-approved for a loan; you are desirable to the men who want someone who is less a risk of being just another crazy loser”
“That’s pathetic!”
“I don’t make the rules princess; I’m just here to explain them to you. It probably wouldn’t be necessary had you had better parenting, But that’s not entirely your fault.”
“Did you just insult her parents?” Abby asked, gleefully. I shushed her again and let the short silence hammer home the resounding wisdom.
“Wow, that explains quite a bit.” Vicki deflated.
“One more thing, if I may, ma’am.”
“He called you ma’am again! He never calls me ma’am, I guess I’m not old enough to be a ma’am yet.” Abby giddily interrupted.
Vicky pretended to ignore Abby:” What else?”
“If you remember or heed nothing else from this conversation, please promise me at least one thing.” Vicky’s eyes perked up, begging me to continue. “Never, ever, ever take relationship advice from a man, ever.”
“Especially a man like Dennis.” Abby added without permission, trying to be funny, but failing miserably.
“Hey that’s right, you’ve been married like seven times, what makes you an expert on any of this anyhow?”
“I’ve been here and there sunshine, and actually tried to improve my understanding of the wiles and ways of people rather than just flopping around in the same festering cesspool of ignorance year after year, relationship after pathetic relationship. I’d love to explain it all to you but I just don’t have the time right now, perhaps we can discuss it after hours someday.” I consoled, still desperately searching for an exit.
Abby jumped up. “Oh my god! I think he just asked you out on a date!”
This story is pretty much true, the actual dialog has been 'enhanced' for entertainment (my own) purposes. If any part of this tale seems upsetting, untrue, or insulting, please feel free to assume that is the part I made up. You'll probably be wrong, but I'm all about making people feel better. db
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