Blasts from the Past

Recently, I think may have accidentally run over someone's beloved pet, or perhaps I wasn't paying attention and let a door slam on an old lady. I can't really recall doing any such thing, but since karma has kicked me in the nuts twice in the last 14 days - I figure it's got to be something. You see, in the past two weeks, I've been contacted by two women, out of the blue, each of whom I had dated more than eight months ago.

Now, I know what you're thinking, I should be stoked - a little "recycling" never hurt anyone, right? I mean, in a world where "creepers" abound, it's easy to see why a nice guy like me would get a call back every now and then. But no, you'd be wrong, both of these calls opened with the bald assertion that the caller had no interest whatsoever in getting back together with me. What's worse, both of these women broke up with me.

Here's where you know I'm telling the truth, because that assertion is baldly emasculating enough that there's no way anyone would offer it up as a fabrication.

Can someone please tell me what the hell is up with this? Because I can see the motivation behind getting back in touch with someone who broke up with you (albeit a tremendously selfish one) to let them know that you're successful and happy - despite their rejections. And I can see the motivation in getting back in touch with someone you broke up with to see if you can give things another try; second thoughts, etc. Which left me to wonder just what sort of explanation would follow a declaration of my continued, abject undesirability.

The first young lady wanted to apologize, which was almost... almost ok. But then she followed it up with wanting to "see how I was doing" and if I "needed anything". Well, let's see, in the intervening eight months since we last said a single word to each another at the rightful end to the worst weekend trip to Las Vegas ever, I spent two of those months just crying all day, 45 days contemplating a suicide attempt within walking distance of her house, another month and half building a candle-lit shrine to her in my living room (which is turns out is a seriously bad place to put a life-sized wax replica of the love of one's life) and the rest of the time just waiting by the phone for her call. I mean, that must have been the answer she was expecting, right? Honestly. how far up your own ass do you have to be to believe that if a man is deprived of your attention for any appreciable period of time, that he needs to be periodically checked up on for health and well being?

I told her I was fine, and that I really wasn't interested in being friends with someone who let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I really wasn't good enough for her. In her defense, after hearing her dating resume, I probably should have known. A group that included: a couple of celebrities, a few professional professional athletes, and at least two gentlemen whose net worth placed them in the I'll-just-pay-cash-for-this-Lamborghini club was not ready to welcome me as a member. And that's not really the point here. Rather it is that there seems no need to call and apologize for being a horrible person, 8 months later - because no matter what I say, I am not really going to forgive you, and, more importantly I stopped thinking about you seven and a half months ago! What kind of person calls to remind you of something terrible, unexpected and callous they did to you? Let's just say that I hope she wasn't trying to improve her karma score - because her call has the distinction of being the single most self-serving thing I've experienced in Los Angeles (and if you've dated in LA, you'll know that's really saying something).

The second young lady called to let me know she was moving back into town from Utah, into the house of a new boyfriend. So you know, she was no stranger to a little phone-based drama, as she had broken things off with me via text message. But, we hadn't spoken in months - the last time, she called to let me know she was leaving town (for good... ha!), and after I agreed to meet with her before she left because she seemed genuinely upset, I never heard from her again. Classy, right?

Since then, I had taken great lengths to avoid the drama that trailed around behind this girl like a comet's tail - including not going back to the bar we used to hang out at - and had nearly forgotten about the entire sordid affair. But here she was, calling me to "catch up". Really? Catch up? So I pressed her... why did she really call? And then I got it, her mother had asked about me. Ah, and there it was. Because, it is not hard to believe that someone's small town Utah mother would ask their daughter about the lone professional that had punctuated her daughter's dating landscape of neck tattoos and ill-conceived facial hair experiments.

Which is all understandable, but again why are you calling me??? Unfortunately, this poor girl had no idea she was the second of two, and had to bear the brunt of my frustration boiling over. No longer able to pretend to be indifferent, I unloaded, and told her that I was not really interested in telling her how I was doing, or catching her up on the many endeavors I was involved in, any more than I was interested in hearing about what new boyfriend's favorite beer was, or whether or not he had scored some "excellent weed". I also let her know that she had earned a spot on that list of people I'm looking forward to sending a free copy of my book to, just to let them know that they bailed on me a little early. Her actual response was: "I can't wait to read it!" Wow. Sometimes the jokes just tell themselves, folks.

I've asked some female friends about this behavior and they're as dumbstruck as I was - or at least they're saying that. I suspect this may be one of those things that all women have agreed to keep secret because it adds to the mystery, allure and utter inexplicabiilty of the feminine psyche - like going to the restroom in groups, waiting periods for calling, and the acceptability of spending more than $1000 on a handbag. The fact that the two women involved were about as different as they could possibly be (age, education, employment, etc.) keeps me from thinking that this is the sort of behavior I can write off to just a crazy idiosyncrasy. Perhaps one of my dear readers can respond with some sort of explanation.

In the past few months, I have enjoyed some very unexpected reunions (via Facebook and other social networking sites) with some long-lost and dear friends from my past - including elementary, middle and high school, college and even law school. I suppose it should come as no surprise that some unwelcome reunions might occur alongside. But the moral of the story is that: in case you're wondering whether you ought to get back in touch with someone who you've previously dated (and broken things off with), just to say hi and that you're happily involved with someone else - don't... the ass you make may be your own.