There are Tales to Tell...

Tiny white Christmas lights glistened behind the stage as my friend's husband belted out the blues and let his fingers find notes on the guitar mine can only wish to someday play. I wrapped my hands and my heart tight around a pound of meat known as the best cheeseburger in town and allowed bits of mustard and relish to fall onto my Levis and then to the floor.

This was my kind of night...my kind of dive bar in my kind of city.

It would have been the perfect scene if it weren't for the fact that six of my closest friends were wiping tears from their eyes as they literally screamed with fits of laughter. What was so funny?

I had just casually mentioned that I am no longer dating...anyone. Nope, I am done with the male persuasion for quite some time. Uproarious laughter ensued.

"How long, exactly, have you been on the 'no boyfriend' wagon?" screeched Jack.

"3 weeks," I grumbled.

More fits of laughter. I kept my eyes on my burger and crammed a few more fries into my overstuffed mouth.

"I give her a week, TOPS!" hollered Jen.

"You know, this IS the longest I've seen her be single," said Tanya, with her thick southern twang.

"It's been FOUR MONTHS!" cried Steve.

"Five," I mumbled. More fries. More meat. More laughing.

I'd already decided that I was done trying to convince anyone that I had indeed turned over a new leaf...it's always better to 'do' than 'say' anyway. Besides, this was at least the third evening I had spent in the past week listening to my friends rip apart my dating history.

My sweet friend Alicia interjected, "You know, after the year you just had...I don't blame you one bit! Good for you!"

"YEAR?! Try the past 20 years!!" said Jack incredulously.  And well, he would know. Jack is one of my oldest friends, chronologically that is. We met when I was a teenager and have been best friends ever since. He was the one that flew half-way across the country to help me load a truck and leave my gay husband. He's a real friend, a great friend...the kind of friend that knows you won't dump him no matter how bad he teases you.

And so it began, yet another evening spent listening to: "Remember that one guy you dated KJ? He was REALLY bad...but not as bad as that other one you dated...holy shit- he was the worst! But then there was..."

So on...and so on...and so on...

As the stories were told I sat there wide-eyed. My God, is my man-picker really that shattered?

Shit....It so...totally...is.

24 hours later...after allowing that final bite of burger to dissolve in my mouth like sugar in warm milk, I'm staring at this blog with only one thought in my head...there are at least 1,579 reasons why I am done, DONE, with dating. And as a gift to myself I've decided it's time to start writing about the past. It's time to drudge up the stories of a thousand bad dates gone even more wrong...and at least a dozen relationships that ended up in the crapper.

I believe that by revisiting the liars, the cheaters, the abandoners, and even the one that got me arrested and strip searched in Mexico, I might find a way to stay on my new found path toward singlehood. If nothing else, there are some great tales to be told...and that's always entertaining....

(To be continued...)