Hiding In The Soup Aisle Isn't Easy, But Someone Has To Do It

When you have had as many dates as I have, you start to see them over and over. 

And not in the good way.  

These are the men you ran away from. The ones where you made an excuse to end the date early. Or worse. They did it to me. 

So, needless to say, it's ... unpleasant ... for both of us to run into each other again. It's like being forced to see a really bad movie all over again. "I paid $10 for this?!," I ask no one, only to buy a ticket for the sequel. 

In New York City, it is surprisingly true that if you do not want to run into someone, you will and you do so on multiple occasions. It is an actual fact. Why? I have no idea. There are only 8 million people here. You think we would have other places to go. But, instead, we all have our patterns and daily routes we go. So, you could end up seeing the same people on the subway or a coffee shop with some frequency. 

I seem to only see people I don't want to at times when I am doing the most NON-ROUTINE things. I have seen an old coworker that I loathed once while buying paint in Home Depot of all places. Or once while running to catch an Amtrak home to Massachusetts. Both times when this happened, I pretended that person did not exist and that they were not really in my peripheral vision, even though they were. 

I always find it to be the best ... revenge isn't really the word for it ... but maybe it is. I just find it to be the easiest, yet best way to handle those moments. It's safer and healthier. 

You don't like me. 

I don't like you. 

Let's pretend we each don't exist. 

However, on both occasions, these loathsome people were looking directly at me. Just my luck! 

Why can't people have the good common sense to ignore someone they despise? Maybe it is a bit WASP-y of me to behave that way, and if so, then hand me a dry martini, a summer home in Connecticut, and a Ralph Lauren cable knit sweater. 

To be honest, I am not normally the type of person to stuff all my feelings into a drawer and keep it there. I am nothing if not ... expressive. However, there comes a time in life and relationships when you realize, it is just best if we never discuss anything ever again and we should never look at each other ever again. And then we can all be happy. 

Now with dating, it is so much worse. For all the reasons you can think of. These are people  who on some level actually know you. 

I am going to share a little story about James. And James (for the sake of the blog) is his actual name. (HA!) 

James and I dated for a little while. He was amazing. On our first date, he passed by a flower stand and wanted to buy me a bunch of flowers, and I said, "No ... no. You don't need to." And then he ... didn't.

I only mention it because it's funny in a sense. When someone says no to PRESENTS, they mean yes.  That is the bleepin' rule when it comes to a "no." All the other times anyone says no, they mean it. But with presents? WE MEAN YES! (This is possibly Rule #405 or actually Rule #2 of dating. Look it up!)

Anyways, James was great. He brought me 3 roses for 3 perfect dates on our 3rd date. Can we say Heaven? We did. He said he couldn't believe we were together and he wanted to be with me for as long as I would have him. He worshipped our time together. He seemed to want instant relationship. That's right! We became lesbians. And it was great. I had never been happier to be a lesbian. Who knew!?

We were even planning for him to meet my family for Christmas. FREAKIN' CHRISTMAS, people! My mom was asking what kind of gift to buy him. And we were even planning a possible birthday trip together to Paris for me next Spring. The world and the calendar were ours for the taking. We were the envy of no one, except for my friends who wanted to see Paris before I did. 

A fun little detail to our relationship was that he would text me every morning. Suddenly, one morning there was no text. And I knew. Later, I received a text at 10 a.m. It was the classic "let's be friends" dumping. It went from Christmas talk to let's never talk again. 

No? 

You think he wanted to be friends? 

Well, do your friends return your text? 

So, yea ... he never did. 

And so, I assumed later that day, he must have been poisoned by his afternoon latte, or he fell into a well and Lassie didn't get there in time. Either way, he was never to be heard from again. Until he was heard from again. Or, should I say, seen again. 

Until ... he got a freelance job at my company. 

YES! He did! He took a job at my company and the building space we occupy is only 4 floors. Did he not think I would bump into him? Well, I did. 

In retrospect, I could have reacted better. And would have, had he let me know he was working there. In my classic (and classy!) response upon seeing him near the elevator as I left a meeting space, I said, "You have to f-in' be kiddin' me!" Just so you know, in the moment I did use the f word. I am just being polite here. 

James quickly dashed into the elevator and moved to the side of the wall so no one, including me, could see him further. I wish I could lie and say that part didn't happen, but then again, I also wish I didn't use the f bomb by the elevators either. Oh well. 

James left the company soon afterward, I think. 

You would think that would be the only other time I would see him then, right? In a city like New York, the BIG Apple? Well, you're wrong. 

The second and only other time I have seen him post-text dumping was while shopping in a Target for hurricane supplies. YES! A FREAKIN' HURRICANE! While I was buying bottled water, bread, peanut butter, and cans of soup, I saw my ex. 

And. He. Looked. Awful. #bestrevengeyet

He appeared to have gained some weight in his midsection. He was no longer tanned. He was in sweats. He was in the frozen foods section, buying (I kid you not) microwave pizza. If the hurricane knocks out your electricity, good luck with that! It was the epitome of sad, if you ask me. 

Best of all, he looked like a Walmart shopper, which was especially sad because - don't forget - we were in a Target! 

Now, you may wonder, so I will just say it. I know how to dress for Target. OF COURSE, I looked adorable. 

Hurricane Sandy, we were told, was no joke. So, on Friday night, I got a good haircut. And on Saturday, while doing errands, I had on a striped nautical tee, some cute slim navy chinos, and my Cole Haan blue and brown saddle oxfords. I. Was. Adorable. 

So, like the ever-good WASP. I walked right past him, although this time I did kind of a sideways glance. I said nothing and did not react, but I wanted him to know that I had seen him. After all, he looked horrible. If this hurricane was coming for me, I wanted to at least have a slight YAY feeling before it came. 

For once, upon seeing an ex, or an old coworker, or someone I loathed, I finally had a YAY moment. It quickly left me when I realized this was a guy who had hurt me, and all those feelings came back. So I did what any good New Yorker would do in this situation. I hid in the soup aisle and called my friend. Thank you, Campbell's! 

But, I reacted in the best way possible. I feel like I did, at least. I didn't ignore and yet I didn't curse to the high moon in an office. I let it all happen, but I let him know I wasn't ok with him being anywhere near me. And I looked good. All in a day's work, I'd say. 

Love,

Greg