The Cheesy Perv

My therapist (yes, my therapist) once told me, “Karen, you won’t be a member of any club who would accept you as a member.”  (I swear that man was high during most of my sessions)  But I did eventually understand what he was saying.  He meant that I chase after those who don’t appear to want me, and the minute they express an interest, I’m wondering what is wrong with them for wanting to be with me. 

I know, I know - I exhaust myself.

In an effort to "fix" this, he suggested that the next time someone expressed an interest in me, I needed to “push on through” and see what happens.

Questionable advice from my possibly high therapist; I foresee no issues with this what-so-ever.

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Shortly thereafter I received a phone call from one of my best friends, Erica, who hates that I am single:

Erica -  “What are you doing this weekend?”

Karen - “Cleaning my house.”

I wasn’t making excuses.  I really was cleaning my house; a chore I’ve come to realize has taken the place of human touch or intimacy for me.  (my house is really, really clean)

Erica  – “Well, get your stuff done before 6 because we’re going on a double date!”  His name is Steven and he's really cute!  We'll meet at the restaurant at 7.”

I was actually pretty excited about this setup since my dating activity had hit a major drought.  Plus, this friend is smokin’ hot and pretty people hang out with other pretty people, right? 

When I arrived at the restaurant, everyone else was already there as I was running a little late.  I peered around the corner at the table and tried to get a good look at cute Steven before I walked up.  To my delight, he was, as Erica promised, really cute!

After dinner, we went to a nearby club for some live music and dancing.  Our conversation was  eclectic in nature, touching on subjects such as our kids (he had two daughters),"Big 80's Hair", 80's sitcoms and sports.  Most disturbing to me was that Steven wasn't a football fan and had never seen a Superbowl.  (cringe)

The following morning I logged onto my computer and discovered an email from Steven.  When I opened it up, I found a gorgeous picture of a red rose sprinkled in dew drops and a lovely message attached: 

A wonderful night with a beautiful woman.

You're smart, sexy and confident - and you "got" my 80's sitcom references.  

I look forward to seeing you again very soon.

With love,

Steven

Let me tell you what happens to me when a guy does something like this for me - I close up shop and you're forever classified in my irreversible (and un-dateable) "cheesy" category.   I know it's a nice gesture and there's nothing inherently wrong with it, but a picture of a rose with dew drops?  Dude, come on!

Just then, Erica called to see what I thought about Steven:

Erica - "Hey, did you like him?  He really liked you!"

Karen - "I did like him.  Is it weird that I'm so bothered by the fact that he's never seen a Superbowl?  And he just sent me a cheesy email."

Erica - "So, you don't want to see him again?"  Because we're going out to the lake today and he asked if you could come along?"

Karen - "I can't, I have my son today - you know I don't let guys I date meet my son."

Erica - "So what?  We're taking the girls - just let Steven know this won't be treated as a date since your son will be there."  

Suddenly, an apparition appeared above me.  It was my therapist's head in an celestial haze (bong smoke, I assume), saying:  "He likes you, Karen.  Stop finding all the reasons why it won't work.  Push on through...see what happens."

Karen – “You know what?  I’d love to!”

When my son, Ryan, and I got to the lake, Erica's family and Steven were loading up the coolers, towels and bags.  I did my best to pretend Steven didn't have two really big strikes against him. (push on through)  I even found the strength to thank him for the "thoughtful" email. (albeit through gritted teeth)  I also reiterated to Steven that we were just hanging out as friends that day since my son was there and he told me he absolutely understood. 

So you can imagine my surprise when, as I was helping Ryan with his life jacket, I felt a cup full of ice being poured down my bathing suit bottoms.  I'm sorry - what the hell just happened here?  First of all, I hardly know you.  Second, you pulled my bathing suit bottoms out and exposed my nether region to not only you, but to everyone on the boat behind me.  Lastly, I'm 100% certain giving me vaginal frostbite is never the answer.

push on through

I looked at Erica and she was mildly mortified.  She came over and offered the suggestion that perhaps he was trying too hard to be fun for Ryan.  Okay, okay...I guess that's possible.  And I continued to push on through.
 
After removing the ice from my various crevices, it was time for lunch.  I fixed my son a sandwich and some Cheetos.  As is customary when you're under 10 and eating Cheetos, your fingers become an orange, sticky, cheesy mess!  As I looked around for a paper towel or something equally suitable to clean my son's fingers, Steven chimed in:

Steven - "Hey Ryan, why don't you take your cheesy fingers and write your name on your mom's sexy stomach."

ew...Ew.....EW!!!  inappropriate, Inappropriate, IN - A - PPRO - PRI - ATE!!! 

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Push on through...I wanted to push him right off that effin' boat! (maybe that's what my therapist meant)

Damn!