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Deal? Or No Deal?

We all are, or at one point have been, entrenched in the world of dating. There are the games, the prancing around certain issues about ourselves, our lives, our past, our future. For those who are more passive/aggressive there are a LOT of games and a lot of prancing around. And at some point after a certain number of “only for fun” type dating relationships, most people decide that there are some individuals that are not worth the time, effort or emotional energy to date, even “just for fun.” We call these proverbial last straws “deal-breakers.”

Up until recently, I had three rock-solid deal-breakers; and, if violated, I would turn on my stilettoed heel, start running (yes, I can run in heels) and never look back. I have dated a number of gentlemen and despite our relationship(s) not going the distance, we parted on friendly terms and I honestly have no feelings of animosity towards them. Allegedly, this is kind of rare in the dating world; but, the way I see it, it just didn’t work out. No harm, no foul, time to move on. There were a couple of relationships that were FULL of harms and fouls and I see no reason to give those x-boyfriends (or x-husbands) the same deal. Which is where my list came in: You break one of these rules and we can no longer be friends. And, for the record, every guy I’ve dated knows these rules fairly early on, stated in exactly the same verbiage I am going to give you now. I do not require them to have a certificate from some crazy ESP/mind reading course; it’s called listening. Maybe they could try it sometime.

DEAL BREAKERS
1: Do NOT steal my shoes.
2: Do NOT burn my books.
3: Do NOT lie to me. Ever. For any reason.

Coincidentally, I have only deployed one of these sacrosanct rules, but it’s probably the most important. No one I’ve ever dated has been so bold as to attempt stealing my shoes or burning my books. However, there have been a couple of moronic individuals who have attempted dishonesty, and all have failed. Generally, I know when I am being lied to; and generally, I won’t even ask questions. I will simply cock my head to the side, look the offending person/bastard dead in the eye and then walk away. I decided a long time ago that anyone who will justify lying to someone they care about is not someone I want caring about me.

At any rate, where am I going with this? Have I been lied to? No, not recently. Has anyone set my library aflame or pilfered my heels? No. (OhMyLaws! Can you even imagine? Shudder!) That being said, in the last few days I have formulated my fourth deal-breaker. And it’s a doozy.

4: Do NOT hurt me on purpose, and then somehow try and convince me that it was my fault.

This is called manipulation. This is how psychopaths and mass murderers or serial killers brainwash their victims. This is the first step towards emotional or physical abuse and frankly, I will NOT tolerate it. Ever. Under any circumstances. Not even if you are/were really cute. If you cannot be man enough to admit wrong-doing -whether intentional or accidental- and then sincerely apologize, I want NOTHING to do with you. (Or woman enough, it goes both ways. Although I don’t date women.) Do NOT tell me you care about me and then, when I am having my worst moment of my worst day in a long string of worst days, when I am at my most vulnerable and in desperate need of support, stand right in front of me and pretend like I do not exist. Or worse; ask if I’m ok, conveniently ignore the “Not so much. Can I talk to you?” and then walk the other way. Do NOT call a few weeks later and pretend like nothing happened. And, when I try and explain why I am no longer interested in talking to you, do NOT give me the “I’m doing everything I can and I’m sorry if it’s not good enough for you” lecture/pout. And by all means, do NOT ever ever ever try and tell me that you didn’t act like a jackass and you were actually doing everything you could to show me you cared. A: That is lying (see rule #3). B: That is blatant emotional manipulation that would make any psychologist cringe (see rule #4).

On that note, I am happy to announce that my shit-list of x-boyfriends has grown by 50 percent. Now there are three; I want nothing to do with them. (How’s my math? Did I compute this correctly? Does 2 + 50% of 2 = 3? Someone please confirm.)

And on an exponentially happier note, I had an absolutely fantastic date this weekend; which I am choosing to keep under wraps for now, but let me assure you, he is amazing.

To the three or four gentlemen who read this blog; a little advice:
Don’t steal a girl’s shoes.
Buy your own stilettos if you need them.
Don’t burn a girl’s books.
Try your demonic, arsonistic tendencies on your own stuff.
Don’t lie to girls.
Lie to your buddies about the size of your fish if you feel the urge.
Don’t blame your own budding psychotic tendencies on the girl you are dating.
Stop calling your equally unbalanced friend/sibling/parent and go to a shrink.

I don’t imagine we should ever have to have this conversation again.

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