by Joe Gerardi
I reiterate: What IS it with women?
Call me crazy, call me weird, but if I live to be one hundred, I'll never understand them. (Little chance of me living that long, though, I'm sure a woman will cause my death long before then.)
Two weeks ago today, my girlfriend dumped me. She told me that she'll never have deep enough feelings for me to ever commit permanently, and that we shouldn't see each other any more. OK, so I go through all those feelings of rejection, dejection, hurt, and pain, and slowly resolve myself to being without her.
I had two instances of seeing her after that. The first was when I dropped her at the airport for her to head back north to see her son. I offered to do it before we broke up and I felt I would be less of a gentleman if I didn't. So I did. The morning she's leaving, she calls me at 7:30 and asks if I'd like to have breakfast with her. Sure, what the hell, I can eat, so I say OK. I get to her place and she's all dressed. She says let's go. Go where? Why OUT to breakfast, of course. Never mind that there are eggs in the fridge, and any restaurant is (naturally) going to be WAY out of the way from the airport. Why not just eat here? That's what guys would do. Dammit, no! I'm putting my foot down. We're just going to stay here and eat.
When we got to the restaurant, we had to wait about ten minutes for a table. We eat breakfast, and I end up with the check. Why is that, ladies? She asked me, fer Chrissake! Any guy knows that whomever asks, pays. It's an unwritten law. We ALL (us guys) know that. WHY AM I STUCK WITH THE CHECK WHEN SHE ASKED ME TO GO? I'M NOT PAYING IT, DAMMIT!
After I paid the check, we headed for the airport. I was cordial, but distant, because it hurts, and because we're no longer seeing each other, right? Just before she boards, she asks me for a hug and a kiss goodbye?
We're not dating/seeing/going steady. (Whatever it is that two 43 year olds would call it.)
So she flies north, and is gone for six days. Why then does she call me three times in those 6 days if we not seeing each other anymore? Now I'm starting to be confused.
She gets back last night, and I pick her up. As she walks off the jetway I take her bags, and she asks me to give her a hug and a kiss.
Now I'm about as confused as a baby in a topless bar. I drive her home, carry her bags up to her townhouse (17 steps. Why is it that a guy can pack for a 3-week vacation using 1 Kroger plastic shopping sack, but for 6 days, a woman's luggage is weighed by the metric tonnage?) and turn to leave. She tells me to stay for a while
I'm thinking all these intelligent things like "Yeah, butů" and "Butů" and "What aboutů" and various other monosyllabic sentences, all along the same lines and making abut as much sense.
OK, I get out of there. I go home. I figure it's just because I took her to the airport and back. Right?
This morning, at 7:45 AM, she calls to see how I slept. I answered "On my right side with my eyes closed." because that's how I sleep. Small talk. Pregnant pauses. More small talk. MORE pregnant pauses. I'm late for work.
Now, one of the problems she had with me was that I called her every day to see how she was. See, I'm kind of hopeless romantic, and I like to hear the sound of her voice. She found it an irritant. WHY THEN DID SHE CALL ME 3 TIMES TODAY?????? And here's the kicker, get this: The last time was to invite me over for dinner tonight. See, I have this friend that's a master chef, and he makes the most killer hot sauce from Passion Fruit called Sweet Passion Fire. I have this wonderful recipe for grilled chicken salads, using the sauce, and topping it with baked French Fries. Trust me on this, it's absolutely fabulous. The only thing is, the best salad dressing for it is T. Marzetti's Honey French, and you can't find it here in Savannah. She came back with 7 jars of the friggin' stuff. (And I carried it all up those 17 damn steps because she stuffed them in her luggage.) So she invites me to dinner, and then asked me to pick some of the ingredients up at Kroger. SO NOW I'M PAYING FOR THE DINNER THAT I WAS INVITED TO! But wait! It gets even better than that. Then she asks me to cook tonight.
Every guy knows that if you invite someone to dinner, the inviter not the invitee does the cooking and the buying (or at least calls for the pizza.)
So here I am, on my way to have dinner with my ex(?) girlfriend that I have to cook after I buy the ingredients. Her response will, of course, be (and guys, you all know what this is going to be..) "Yeah, but I got the salad dressing when I was up north."
Help me out here. PLEASE! Am I seeing her or not? Are we on again or not? Are any monasteries accepting applications or not? Maybe the Foreign Legion?
You know, I think a quiet weekend is just the ticket for a nice recovery for me. Someplace peaceful like with the Spanish Inquisition, or S.E.A.L. training would probably help a great deal.
What IS it with women?