Monday Mimisms: Who is Susan?

My friend ( we'll call her "Susie") and I are afternoon power-walking partners. An hour a day. Everyday. (here we are ) The time flies because the subject is usually men. We laugh, we cry, we rant, we shake our heads, we analyze, give advice, receive advice and generally straight up tell each other what we think about our relationships past and present, latest dates and intrigues. The more ridiculous and/or lovely the encounter was for either one of us, the faster we walk. And talk. If we're mad at an ex or need to vent, the faster we walk. And talk. If we are missing an ex and need to talk about it, we just smack each other and keep walking. So to speak.
Did you know that dating burns calories?

Anyway, over the course of the last month, Susie has had an infatuation with one very handsome man she met on a dance floor. I remember her giggling into work the next morning wearing a walking-on-air-disgustingly-appalling-flit-about-attitude when she first met him. "He called!" she exclaimed, after a dozen dances and hot kisses in the parking lot. She was thrilled. I was thrilled. All God's children were thrilled.
That afternoon during our walk, we planned what to wear to the next dance and she gave me the stats: Tall, handsome (That is subjective. We are generally not attracted to the same physical types, she likes blonde, I like dark-haired men usually...but I digress). He owns 3 companies, semi-retired. Grown children. No pets. OOdles of time for a relationship. Intelligent but not a "reader" (deduct one point there). House at the coast. Charming. Charismatic. Confidence. Cultured.
Oh. I forgot. He's a millionaire.

And he's into her like you wouldn't believe.

What is not to like?

The money, while nice, does not faze me. Seriously. (unless he has a brother...just kidding! Maybe.)

So back to the hot kisses. That's really what I want to know about. Don't you?
"And how was that?"..... I asked, wearing my best pencil skirt detective face.As soon as I heard the old "made my knees go weak" that's all I needed to hear. All systems GO GO GO.

Week 2: A dinner date. Great time. The past relationship conversation was broached. She filled me in. I am listening with my skeptical and somewhat jaded ears. Sounds reasonable...sounds plausible....sounds logical....Interject Mimi RED FLAG CAUTION #1.
How much, dear friend, did he discuss his past relationship (a woman he'd lived with for 10 years and just broke up with a year ago).
"Well," she said, "they still attend the same social functions at the country club."
"Uh huh...what else?"
"They're in the same Sunday School class."
"Uh huh...."
"She's still in touch with his daughter...."
"Uh huh."

Date #3: Dinner and then they go back to his house. Errr......his mansion. Which, according to her, was a five-thousand-square-foot museum of his lifetime accomplishments. There were color-coded rooms just for certain decades of his life with professionally framed collages on the wall. Immaculate. Not a speck of dust. Not even in the air.
She was frightened.

"Why?" I asked, "and did you see a picture of his brother?" (you know I had to ask)

"Have you ever been out with someone who wants to only talk about themselves and never asks how your day went or is interested in your life at all?"

"Briefly. VERY briefly," I said.

"But what about the kissing?!! Please tell me the kissing went well....."
Weak-knees is still weak-kneed (Good, I thought....this could still work, I thought, in my Pollyanna way) but I was worried about that no-dust thing.

"And then," she added, "we discussed how his ex-girlfriend re-decorated every inch of his mausoleum house."
"And how did that come up?"
"It was hard to miss. There was a picture of the two of them on a cruise ship in one of the ego rooms."
"Uh huh."
"Are you suuure it was her?"
"Uh huh."
"Did he TELL you it was her?"
"Uh huh."

Oh well, I thought, there's nothing so unusual about that. I dated a man once with a picture of his ex-wife and kids on the wall and I didn't feel insecure in the relationship at all .....whatever. He ended up marrying her again I am such a fool but that's beside the point.
Next day:
He called to tell her that his distant uncle had passed away.
Now that's a wrench one doesn't need at this point.

"Should I send flowers?" she asked.
Hmmm.....3 dates. Hot kisses. Pseudo albeit iffy potential....Ex-girlfriend in a frame....."Maybe just a plant to his house will do. If you're really into this guy and you think it would mean a lot to him," I offered.
So she did.
It was not a wise move. Leave it to me - The Queen Of All That Is Wise Concerning Men (stop laughing) - to mess things up for her.

He called to thank her. Nice, I thought...until the conversation turned into a pity party that his ex-girlfriend had not "come over to comfort me in my hour of need since she knew my uncle so well." I kid you not.
At this point I just want her to call the florist back and retract the floral robbery upon her charge card for NOTHING. This relationship is going nowhere. Except back to the ex-girfriend.

Fast forward next week's power walk. The bounce is beginning to de-bounce from her blonde ponytail.
"Have you heard from Mr. Handsome-Rich-And-Dangerous?"
"Yes, Mimi."
"He called last night."
"Great!" I chimed.
Her walking was sloooowwinnngg down. Not a good sign.
"And this morning."
"Oh?"

Knowing that she is half-asleep all mornings until at least eleven and just pretends to work and be awake until then, I said...."And you were half-asleep and couldn't talk and don't remember a word he said, right?"
"Oh, I remember."
"So what did he say?"
"Which time?" "Huh?"
"He called eleven times."
"Ten messages last night alone......"

"And you ANSWERED??!"
"Only the 11th ring."
"Why did you answer? He's apparently unbalanced and needy and who needs that?"
"You told me to send the plant!!!"
"I was just trying to help....what did the other 10 messages say?"

"That he HAD to get in touch with me and why didn't I have my cellphone on and how was he going to possibly plan for this day and week without being able to reach me because he had to be able to make reservations at the drop of a hat and plan for social functions and could we meet for dinner after work and since his uncle died he's in a funk and it's "beyond him" that I could function without my cellphone on and how the plant was perfect on the dining room table and then he said sternly into my machine, "Goodnite, Susan."

"Who's Susan?" I asked.

"It's me. He insists that my name is not Susie, but Susan. He will not call me Susie."

At this point I am laughing hysterically - we both are on the floor laughing hysterically.
"You spent $82.00 for THIS??"
"I am so relieved this relationship is over," she said.
"Me, too. But whhhhhhyyyy?" I asked.
"Now I don't have to mop my kitchen floor."

Walking has stopped. Laughing has started again. We are literally bent over laughing holding our sides and can't breathe from the funny fumes. "You could have at least dated him one more time so that I could get another blog post," I said. "And there was the kissing ya know....."

"Shut UP," she said.

"I suggest you enroll in the Witness Protection Program immediately and go underground."

"Shut UP!"

"And this is why you never ever ever sleep with someone on the first, second, third or forty-fifth date......because if you had you would have had to send a floral arrangement and attend a funeral AND sit with his ex-girlfriend at the service before you disappeared from the face of the earth. See, you should always listen to Mimi. Aren't you glad you listened to me now?"

"S.H.U.T. U.P. And if you call me Susan I will never speak to you again."

OK. Susan.

Copyright © 2008 Mimi Lenox. All Rights Reserved.